In the Brazilian's Debt(67)

                ‘That would never happen. You’re more than good enough to pass the course without sleeping with the boss.’

                ‘And I don’t want you spreading your money around so I’m always in debt to you.’

                ‘You would never be indebted to me. I’ve already told you—’

                ‘How rich you are?’ Lizzie interrupted him. ‘Here in Rottingdean we help each other out regardless of how rich or poor we are, and, whether I’ve got money or not, I’ll find some way to help these people. I’m not going to let them down.’

                ‘You don’t want to let them down,’ he argued, ‘but without a large injection of cash you don’t stand a chance of saving the estate. And where else are you going to get the money, Lizzie?’

                ‘I’ll find a way,’ she said stubbornly.

                ‘I would love nothing more than to believe you, but for once you’ve taken on more than you can handle.’

                She braced her shoulders. ‘Didn’t you say you had a bed in the village?’

                ‘Yes. At the pub,’ he confirmed.

                She stared pointedly at him, telling him it was time to go.

                ‘I’ll bid you goodnight,’ he said formally.

                ‘Goodnight, Chico.’ Walking to the door, she held it open for him. ‘Thank you for being here when I needed you.’

                He smiled wryly. ‘Somehow I think you could have handled them on your own.’

                ‘Maybe,’ Lizzie agreed with a thin smile. ‘But I’m glad we got the truth out of them at last.’

                ‘Nothing we didn’t already know, or suspect,’ he said. ‘But, as you say, it was good to get it out in the open, though it must have been a shock for you when they turned up on your doorstep.’

                ‘It was quite a shock,’ Lizzie admitted, holding his stare as she rested back against the door, ‘but not nearly as much of a surprise as when you made your entrance.’

                ‘Glad I could be of assistance,’ he said dryly. ‘Goodnight, Lizzie.’

                She made a soft little sound when he caught her close on his way out of the door. He brushed her lips with his, and then, because he couldn’t resist, he deepened the kiss, and Lizzie tasted every bit as good as he remembered—possibly even better, now they were back together at Rottingdean, where memories pooled and swirled around them.

                ‘So you’re leaving me again?’ she said when he pulled away.

                ‘I’m not leaving you again,’ he argued gently. ‘I wouldn’t have left the first time, if Eduardo had allowed me to stay. But what could I offer you then, Lizzie? A dream we made up in the stable? I had to go when Eduardo left. I had no money to do as I pleased. But tonight you shouldn’t be alone, so I’m going to ask Annie to come back and stay with you.’

                He didn’t add that the next time he took Lizzie to bed would be at the right time and for all the right reasons, and that wasn’t now.





                                      CHAPTER THIRTEEN

                SHE WAS A SMALL, slight figure, muffled up against the sharp, icy wind in a black coat that looked several sizes too big for her and a scarf that could have served as a blanket for a medium-sized pony. Her hair was whipping around her face, and she looked pale and strained, but composed. The cemetery was full. So full, people were lining the railings outside, and the surrounding streets were cordoned off to cope with the crowds. The village of Rottingdean and the surrounding area had come to a standstill. All the small shops had closed for the day. There would have been no point opening when everyone was at the funeral. What a wonderful legacy for anyone to leave, he thought as he walked up to the grave.