In the Brazilian's Debt(76)
Trust had been an issue for both of them, he reflected as he watched Lizzie run the sale with precision and calm assurance, but he had to hope that lack of trust was behind her now, as it was behind him. There were some prizes worth fighting for, and he could be as determined as Lizzie when it came to achieving his goal.
* * *
Lizzie drew a deep breath. ‘And now the final lot.’ She paused for effect and, more than that, to calm herself. She couldn’t afford to let her voice shake now. ‘Rottingdean House, ladies and gentlemen. This beautiful home you’re standing in now—’
There was an uncomfortable silence, and then one of the representatives from the bank came to the foot of the rostrum to whisper something.
Lizzie felt cheated. She felt as if the auction would have given her time to mourn the loss of her childhood home, and now there was no time.
‘My apologies, ladies and gentlemen—I have just learned that a sale has been agreed prior to this auction, so, for today, this auction is over.’
That was it? Lizzie thought, feeling unsteady as she climbed down from the rostrum. How quickly the sale had gone. A lifetime sold off in a matter of minutes—several lifetimes, she reflected, thinking of the ancestors who had lived at Rottingdean before her. How she got down those few rickety wooden steps, she would never know. She was reminded of the first time she’d been put on a pony and had looked for railings to hang onto, only to find there were none. As in life, she reflected wryly. She was on her own now, and had to plan accordingly.
‘Excuse me, Miss Lizzie.’
‘Yes?’ She smiled at the representative from the bank. She bore him no grudges. What was the point when he was only doing his job?
‘Should I call you Lady Elizabeth?’ he said, blushing bright red.
‘Definitely not,’ she reassured him. ‘Lizzie’s fine.’ She didn’t want anyone calling her Lady Elizabeth Fane when she hadn’t earned the title. It was just an accident of birth. And there was something else, Lizzie thought as her mouth quirked with amusement. Maybe she was delirious with sadness, and weary with disappointment, but all she could think about was being in bed with Chico—so she might be wearing high-heeled shoes, but she could state categorically that she was no lady.
‘Can I help you with anything?’ she said pleasantly, seeing the man from the bank was still hovering.
‘The new owner would like to see you,’ he explained.
‘The new owner?’ She looked around. It couldn’t be Chico, Lizzie reasoned, because Chico would have made himself known. She hadn’t heard from him for three days now. When she spoke to his PA she presumed Chico was back in Brazil. It was the student graduation in a few days, and he would never miss that.
‘He’s in your grandmother’s study.’
‘Oh, is he?’ Lizzie felt her temper rising, and knew that had more to do with Chico than any slight inflicted by this new owner. ‘He couldn’t wait to get his feet under the table, I suppose.’ She left the man from the bank staring after her anxiously.
She knew the moment she reached the door what she would find behind it.
‘Chico,’ she said as she walked in. She tried to maintain a calm demeanour, but after being in a room full of sun-starved individuals, dressed in muted heather tones, seeing Chico in all his piratical splendour was quite a shock. He was dressed all in black: black shirt, black jacket, black trousers, with his wild black hair barely tamed for the occasion. He looked as if he had just stepped from the centrefold of a polo magazine. He was quite simply the most bronzed, bold, and beautiful man she had ever seen. Right now, his only flaw, as far as she could tell, was the expression on his face, which was knowing and even faintly amused. He looked every bit the conquering hero. He towered over her, all-powerful, and completely in command, but she refused to be intimidated. At least he’d had the good grace not to sit behind her grandmother’s desk, but had chosen to stand by the window overlooking the lake, from where he was regarding her now.