His Suitable Bride(87)

A call came through. He picked up the phone and barked into it.

‘Good morning to you too.’

‘What is it, Ricardo? I’m busy.’

His lawyer wasn’t stupid. He took the hint. ‘I thought you’d like to know that your wife’s solicitor has instructed us that the papers are good for her to sign. He’s just rung her at the house to inform her of this.’

Isandro sat down into his chair. An immediate heaviness had entered his chest. Which was ridiculous. He should be elated.

‘Fine. They’re still in my study at home. If you can meet me there tonight we’ll sign them.’

‘Of course.’

Isandro let the phone drop.

On the other end his lawyer smiled wryly. He wondered what would have been the reaction if he’d said no, that actually he had a date tonight? He shook his head. Men as powerful as Isandro were never given excuses. So he picked up his phone again and called off the date with his girlfriend.

With Isandro’s disturbing presence out of the house, Rowan felt herself relaxing somewhat for the first time in days. She knew María had been given strict instructions not to allow Rowan any more time with Zac than had been discussed, but the woman bent the rules a little. Rowan was so pathetically grateful, it was ridiculous. Without Isandro looking over her shoulder she could really get to know Zac. She knew well, though, that it was galling for him to know she was there. Every evening when he came back he looked in on Zac, and at her suspiciously, as if she might have done something to him.

Rowan had signed the preliminary divorce papers a couple of evenings ago, and since then a heaviness had weighed her down inside. But she told herself it was only natural to feel pain at the thought that she and Isandro wouldn’t be able to provide Zac with a stable family …

Dinner on Friday evening passed off without incident, and Rowan managed to escape without being detained. Up in her own room, she was too restless to sleep and took confidence in the fact that Isandro would no doubt be in his study, working. She went out into the patioed garden and tipped her head back to see the stars, drinking in the night.

Suddenly weary and feeling very vulnerable, she sank for a moment onto the bottom step and let her head fall back. The warm Andalucian air caressed her. She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Until a sound made her head jerk up. She stood hurriedly when she saw a dark shape peel itself from the wall. She knew well who it was. A stranger would have caused less panic.

‘Isandro.’ Thank goodness her voice was steady.

‘Did you think it might be a burglar?’ he asked lightly.

Rowan held onto the wall beside her as he walked down his steps with leonine grace.

She shook her head and smiled tightly, thinking of all the bodyguards. ‘With the security system here?’

He came and stood in front of her. She was still on the bottom step, so she stood slightly taller than him, and in the dark star-filled night she had a sudden urge to put her hands around his face, lower her mouth to his to kiss him and feel him put his arms around her waist.

She shook inwardly with the effort it took to clear her mind of the image.

‘Isandro, what do you want?’

She couldn’t read his face. But his eyes were hard. He opened his mouth to speak and she braced herself for censure but just then a noise sounded from inside Isandro’s room. Someone calling his name. And the panic in that voice was unmistakable. Immediately Rowan recognised it, and hairs rose on the back of her neck. Everything else was forgotten.

‘María …’ she breathed. Instinctively she followed Isandro’s swift return to his room, where María stood wringing her hands, her face as white as snow. Rowan could see that she was in shock and panic, almost about to faint.

Isandro went and took her shoulders, but the woman was incoherent. Rowan tried to get her to calm down.

‘María what is it? Just try to breathe and tell us.’

Rowan could sense Isandro’s swift sideways look of annoyance that she had followed him.

The other woman finally managed to say, ‘Zac—it’s Zac. He’s having some kind of fit—I don’t think he’s breathing.’

Shock slammed into Rowan even as she registered Isandro reacting like lightning and thrusting María aside. No … No! her mind screamed. Not now. Not after everything.

On numb legs she followed Isandro into Zac’s room. She could see that Isandro was dangerously close to panic as well. With an instinct she wasn’t even aware she possessed, she pushed him aside to have a look. María had followed them, clearly verging on full-blown hysteria. Rowan somehow forced herself to remain calm and look at Zac properly.