The Playboy of Argentina(23)

He ran for miles. Kept going well past the point where he normally  doubled back. The surfers were out in force, riding the pretty big waves  that spilled up and soaked him time and again as he pounded along the  beach. A couple of riders passed, their horses galloping in the foam,  and he made a mental note to take Frankie out riding in the surf before  she left. She'd love it.

His head was still pounding, and still full of conflicting thoughts, but  at least he'd cleared up one thing and he felt a hell of a lot better  for it.

He trudged up from the beach, thinking about a long drink and a cool  shower. Thinking about whether it should be alone or not. Thinking about  Frankie and the conversation he was definitely going to have with her.  Picking up from where they'd left off last night. God knew he had said  it often enough in the past-no commitment past a sexual relationship. No  expectations. And definitely no one getting any ideas about buying a  hat. He liked her. A lot. But it was best if they were both really clear  about what was going to happen next. He had to make sure she had no  stupid notions brewing after last night.                       
       
           



       

But first he was going to get that drink.

He rounded the corner of the garden onto the terrace-right into the middle of a cosy scene.

Dante and Frankie. They were huddled together, staring at something. And  the closeness of them, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh on the  swing seat, brought a bitter taste to his mouth. What was Dante playing  at? Happy families?

'Oh, my God, he's not going to like this.'

'Not going to like what?' he asked, aware of the growl in his voice-aware and not giving a damn.

They both looked up sharply. Dante couldn't hide the moment of surprise  on his face, but then, as ever, he slipped right back into easy charm.

'Hey, bro, that's some dynamo you're operating. Wall-to-wall private  partying and a ten-mile run before breakfast? I've been here for ages,  waiting for you. Good job Frankie was here to look after me.'

Don't let him wind you up, he told himself. But even though he knew Dante was deliberately baiting him, he still rose.

'You're here earlier than I thought,' he said, walking towards them,  still sitting there all cosy together. 'You should have messaged me. I'd  have made sure I was here.'

'Well, normally I wouldn't rush, as you know, but with Frankie here just now I can hardly stay away.'

Frankie laughed and punched the side of his arm playfully. 'You're hilarious. You only just got here!'

And then Dante slid his arm around her and squeezed her against his  side, blue eyes flashing and smile beaming. A look of complete joy on  his face.

'This is still early for me, sweet cheeks. Normally my first meal after  Turlington is dinner. Today I'm going for brunch. Impressed?'

Rocco was so, so unimpressed. Dante had gone right past flirting and  moved into some kind of buddy brother-in-law role. The last thing  Frankie needed was any more in the way of invitations to be part of Team  Hermida. Rocco needed to bring him up to speed on things-and fast.

'Frankie, can you leave us for a moment? Dante and I have a little business to discuss. In private.'

Which was true, but he could have handled it a lot less awkwardly than  that, he supposed. The look that flashed over her face told him he'd  hurt her, but she rose up with a serene little smile.

'I'll leave you to it. I'd better say goodbye, Dante-I'm not sure when I'll next see you. I have to get back to work soon.'

He stood, too, grabbed her shoulders and held her.

'Ah, parted so soon  …  I didn't realise. Sorry-I thought you were here  for a while. Okay  …  Well, I'm sure this will only be a temporary  goodbye-and it would be great to keep in touch anyway. Hermanos Hermida  is always on the lookout for new cheerleaders.'

Had he lost his mind? What the hell was he doing?

Rocco watched as Dante pulled her in for a squeeze that lasted far too  long, and had the fists in his hands curled into tight, angry balls. If  that punching bag was at hand it would get a blasting!

Finally he let her go, and she sauntered off with that sexy little walk, wearing yet another of his shirts. Beautifully.

He turned to Dante.

'Sweet-cheeks? Cheerleader? What the hell are you up to, Dante? Since  when do you lead any woman on to thinking they're going to be part of  this family?'

Dante walked towards him.

'Relax. You're like a caged beast. I had to smooth over your clumsy  move. What was all that about? Sending her away the way you did? Who  treats the woman they love like that?'

He froze. Dante had sat down again and picked up a newspaper, flicked it  open and started to scan through it. He lifted a cup of coffee to his  mouth and sipped. As if he had merely asked him about the weather  instead of firing a volley of emotionally charged bullets. And striking  his target-bull's eye.

'You can forget that.'

'What?' he asked, flicking on, sipping on. 'Are you going to try to  pretend you're not in love with her? It's as obvious as Carmel's fake  boobs. Talking of which-you might want to break the habit of a lifetime  and check out the latest media reports. If you say you're not in love,  you'd better put out a press release.'

And he tossed him his phone.

Pictures of him and Frankie. His eyes scanned them-leaving the villa,  entering the Turlington Club, and then the one that he himself had  staged, kissing passionately. His eyes widened at how hot they looked.  And then there were more-of them staring into each other's eyes,  thinking they were unobserved, smiling and hugging. Okay, it did look  like love caught on camera, but they were just lovers out together. It  was no big deal. He'd been with other dates before and there were  probably dozens of pictures just like these.                       
       
           



       

But as his fingers scrolled down he saw what Dante was pointing out.  There were pictures of him with other women, but he held them at a  distance and his face was rigid. And the headlines screamed, The  Hurricane Has Been Tamed!

La Gaya-the Magpie-that was what they were calling Frankie, thanks to  her striking dark hair and her pearl-pale skin-and to stealing from the  nest of the glorious Carmel. Brilliant. Just what he needed.

He tossed Dante his phone.

'It'll blow over. No big deal. There's more important stuff to deal with. Like what did you find out?'

Dante dropped the humour like a soaked blanket.

'It was the longest of long shots. Might still be something in it, but I  don't know. I got the feeling from our guy that they're doing as much  fishing as we are. Someone's claimed to have shared a cell with a guy  who knew Chris Martinez. Said he'd been inside and then released after  only serving a couple of months. The talk was that he'd done a deal and  been given a new identity. But that's all it was. Talk.'

'Sounds pretty likely, though.'

'Maybe. I'm not sure. But there was nothing else to get from the guy. He  didn't have any more intel on Martinez. And he started to ask too many  other questions. I reckon he was fishing for info about you.'

Rocco mulled that over. He'd been so careful about this. He didn't deal  directly with investigators himself. This was the first time Dante had  stepped in for him but otherwise he always used a proxy, kept his  distance, organised everything via a separate email account and phone  number. The last thing he wanted was to bring any shame on the Hermida  family. Not after all they'd done for him. So for all that he was  picking through the detritus of a nasty world, he'd done it  carefully-very carefully-up until now.

'Okay,' he said. 'Thanks.'

'What next?'

Rocco rubbed the back of his neck, stretched out his shoulders, flexed his hands. Shook his head.

'I don't know. I'll give it some thought.'

'Don't you think you should leave it for a while? It's not as if the  trail is red-hot. Spend some time with Frankie and fix that before she  goes. Don't leave loose ends, or you might  … '

He frowned at Dante.

'Might what?'

'Lose her.'

They stared at each other across the table, the newspaper spread out  between them like a matador's cloak. And Rocco was definitely the bull.

'I'm just saying-I know you. When you get information-any  information-about Martinez you go into these moods, lash out at people.  Like I just saw. And someone like Frankie isn't going to hang around to  take it.' He put his hands up in a mock surrender. 'Just sayin'  … '

'I've got it covered,' he said.

'I'm sure you have.' Dante reached for him, slapped his back, the way  they always did. 'I'm going to head off now. Are you travelling back to  BA today? Tomorrow?'

'Later today, if you want a lift. Frankie has a meeting set up with a  trader to check out some aloe samples before she flies back to Madrid.'

He nodded. 'I'll leave you two alone. Time must be precious.'

Dante lifted his phone, drained his coffee and pulled out his car keys.  One final slap on the back and then he walked away, tripping down the  steps as if he was dancing in a damn Hollywood musical. How did he make  every moment of his life look like a movie? He pulled him out of his  moods every time.