'I went to the gym, then went for a walk.'
His huge frame loomed larger as he came towards her. 'The next time you decide to leave the house for a long stretch have the courtesy to inform the staff of your whereabouts. That way I won't have people combing the grounds for you.'
There was an odd inflection in his voice that made the hairs on her neck stand up.
'Has something happened?' She stepped towards him, her heart taking a dizzying dive when he didn't answer immediately. 'Marco?'
'Sí, something's happened,' he delivered in an odd, flat tone.
He stepped into the light and Sasha bit back a gasp at the gaunt, tormented look on his face.
'Rafael... It's Rafael.'
CHAPTER FIVE
FEAR PIERCED THROUGH her heart but she refused to believe the worst. 'Is he...?' She swallowed and rephrased. 'How bad is it?'
Marco shoved his phone into his pocket and stalked down the hall towards the large formal sitting room. Set between two curved cast-iron balconies that overlooked the living room from the first-floor hallway, a beautifully carved, centuries-old drinks cabinet stood. Marco picked up a crystal decanter and raised an eyebrow. When she shook her head, he poured a healthy splash of cognac into a glass and threw it back in one quick swallow.
A fire had been lit in the two giant fireplaces in the room. Marco stood before one and raked a hand through his hair, throwing the dark locks into disarray. 'He's suffered another brain haemorrhage. They had to perform a minor operation to release the pressure. The doctors...' He shook his head, tightly suppressed emotion making his movements jerky. 'They can't do any more.'
'But the operation worked, didn't it?' She didn't know where the instinct to keep talking came from. All she knew was that Marco had come looking for her.
He sucked in a deep, shuddering breath. 'The bleeding has stopped, yes. And he's been put into an induced coma until the swelling goes down.'
She moved closer, her heart aching at the pain he tried to hide. 'That's good. It'll give him time to heal.'
His eyes grew bleaker. He looked around, as if searching for a distraction. 'I should be there,' he bit out. 'But the doctors think I'm in their way.' He huffed. 'One even accused me of unreasonable behaviour, simply because I asked for a third opinion.'
The muttered imprecation that followed made Sasha bite her lip, feeling sorry for the unknown hapless doctor who'd dared clash with Marco.
She sucked in a breath as his gaze sharpened on her.
'Nothing to say?'
'He's your brother. You love him and want the best for him. That's why you've hired the best doctors to care for him. Maybe you need to leave them alone to do their jobs?' He looked set to bite her head off. 'And if he's in intensive care they probably need to keep his environment as sterile as possible. Surely you don't want anything to jeopardise his recovery?'
His scowl deepened and he looked away. 'I see you not only wear a psychologist's hat, you also dabble in diplomacy and being the voice of reason.'
Although Sasha did not enjoy his cynicism, she felt relieved that his voice was no longer racked with raw anguish. 'Yeah, that's me. Miss All-Things-To-All-People,' she joked.
Eyes that had moments ago held pain and anguish froze into solid, implacable ice. 'Sí. Unfortunately that aspect of your nature hasn't worked out well for my brother, has it? Rafael needed you to be one thing to him. And you failed. Miserably.'
'I tried to talk some sense into him...'
Rafael hadn't taken it well when she'd pointed out the absurdity of his out-of-the-blue proposal. He'd stormed out of her hotel in Budapest the night before the race, and she'd never got the chance to talk to him before his accident.
Marco turned from the mantel and faced her. 'Don't tell me... You were conveniently unsuccessful?' he mocked.
'Because he didn't mean it.'
He pounced. 'Why would any man propose to a woman if he didn't mean it?'
When she didn't answer immediately, his scowl deepened. In the end, she said, 'Because of...other things he'd said.'
'What other things?' came the harsh rejoinder.
'Private things.' She wasn't about to deliver a blow-by-blow account. It wasn't her style. 'I thought he was reacting to his last break-up.'
He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. 'Rafael and Nadia broke up two months ago. Are you suggesting this was a rebound?' Marco asked derisively. 'My brother's bounce-back rate is normally two weeks.'
Sasha frowned. 'Rafael's changed, Marco. To you he may have seemed like his normal wild, irreverent self. But-'
'Are you saying I don't know my own brother?' he demanded.
Slowly, Sasha shook her head. 'I'm just saying he may not have told you everything that was going on with him.'
Her breath caught at the derisive gleam that entered Marco's eyes.
'His text told me everything I needed to know. By refusing him, you gave him no choice but to come after you.'
'Of course I didn't!'
'Liar!'
'That's the second time you've called me a liar, Marco. For your own sake I hope there isn't a third. Or I'll take great pleasure in slapping your face. Contract or no bloody contract. Whatever Rafael led you to believe, I didn't set out to ensnare him, or encourage him to fall for me-which I don't think he did, by the way. And I certainly didn't get him riled up enough to cause his accident. Whatever demons Rafael's been battling, they finally caught up with him. I'm tired of defending myself. I was just being his friend. Nothing else.'
Heart hammering, she took a seat on one of the extremely delicate-looking twin cream and gold striped sofas and pulled in a deep breath to steady the turbulent emotions coursing through her. Emotions she'd thought buckled down tight, but which Marco had seemed to spark to life so very easily.
'I find it hard to believe your actions have taken you down the same path twice in your life.'
'An unfortunate coincidence, but that's all it is. I have to live with it. However, I refuse to let you or anyone else label me some sort of femme fatale. All I want is to do my job.'
He sat down opposite her. When his gaze drifted down her body, she struggled to fight the pinpricks of awareness he ignited along the way.
'You're a fighter. I admire that in you. There's also something about you...'
His pure Latin shrug held a wealth of expression that made her silently shake her head in awe.
'An unknown quality I find difficult to pinpoint. You're hardly a femme fatale, as you say. The uncaring way you dress, your brashness, all point to a lack of femininity-'
Pure feminine affront sparked a flame inside her. 'Thanks very much.'
'And normally I wouldn't even class you as Rafael's type. Yet on the night before his accident he was fiercely adamant that you were the one. Don't get me wrong, he's said that a few times in the past, but this time I knew something wasn't quite right.'
Despite his accusation, sympathy welled inside her. 'Did you two fight? Was that why you didn't come to Friday's practice?'
His nod held regret. 'I lost it when he asked for the ring.'
'You had it?'
He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. 'Yes. It belonged to our mother. She didn't leave it specifically to either of us; she just wanted the first one of us to get married to give it to his bride.' He shook his head once. 'I always knew it would go to Rafael since I never intend-' He stopped and drew in a breath. 'Rafael has claimed to be in love with many girls, but this was the first time he'd asked for the ring.'
'And you were angry because it was me?'
His jaw clenched. 'You could have waited until the race was over,' he accused, his voice rough with emotion.
'Marco-'
'He'd have had the August hiatus to get over you; he would've mended his broken heart in the usual way-ensconced on a yacht in St Tropez or chasing after some Hollywood starlet in LA. Either way, he would've arrived back on the circuit, smiled at you, and called you pequeña because he'd forgotten your name. Instead he's in a hospital bed, fighting for his life!'
'But I couldn't lie,' she shot back. 'He didn't want me-not really. And I'm not on the market for a relationship. Certainly not after-' She pulled herself up short, but it was too late.
He stood and pulled her up, caught her shoulders in a firm grip. 'After what?'
'Not after my poor track record.'
'You mean what happened with your previous lover?'
She nodded reluctantly. 'Derek proposed just before I broke up with him. I'd known for some time that it wasn't working, but I convinced myself things would work out. When I declined his proposal a week later he accused me of leading him on. He said I was only refusing him because I wanted to sell myself to the highest bidder.'
Derek had repeated that assertion to every newspaper and team boss who would listen, and Sasha's career had almost ended because of it. She pushed the painful memories away.