Rafael′s Convenient Proposal
Rafael's Convenient Proposal
Rebecca Winters
“Marriage was my daughter’s suggestion to this untenable situation,” Rafael said. His expression looked like thunder.
Mallory felt the point of that fiery dart penetrate her soul. But it meant Apolonia had found a way around her father’s objections and that salient truth flooded Mallory with happiness.
“You’ll have to pretend to be my wife in public and live in my suite so the staff don’t talk,” Rafael ground out.
“Unlike a wife, I plan to live my own life taking care of your daughter. I intend to let you live yours.”
Rafael tossed his head back. The man had been caught in a snare of his daughter’s making and he didn’t like it one bit.
“So when do you want our wedding to take place?”
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This month enjoy Rafael’s Convenient Proposal by Rebecca Winters.
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Rafael’s Convenient Proposal
Rebecca Winters
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE
“FOR those of you just joining the Jack Hendley Friday Night Live show broadcasting from New York, we have the gorgeous Ms. Mallory Ellis in studio with us this evening.”
The band played a little theme music and the audience clapped.
“If you have eyes in your head, you could be forgiven for thinking she’s a world-class supermodel or top box office movie star, but you’d be dead wrong. At twenty-nine years of age, Ms. Ellis has the distinction of being one of the youngest female executives ever featured in Financial Wizards of Wall Street.
“A top honors graduate in corporate law from Yale University, Ms. Ellis was snapped up by Windemere Cosmetics, a struggling Los Angeles based firm. In three short years under her guidance, the company not only has a new name, ‘Lady Windemere Cosmetics,’ it has also gone global. So far the profits keep rising which is good news for the employees who now own stock in the company.
“According to the magazine article, her undisputed genius lies in profit and loss savvy, but tonight we’re hoping she’ll reveal some of the secrets of her phenomenal success story.”
From far away, the audience couldn’t tell the TV host’s eyes glittered as he studied her. “According to a source close to you, you’re a woman who knows what women want, and you put women with the right credentials in charge. Did you always plan to be a big female tycoon?”
There was an edge to his question rather than a teasing tone. She’d seen him in action before. Jack Hendley was a male chauvinist who had fixed ideas about a woman’s place in life. That was all right with Mallory. A lot of insecure men had the same problem.
Coming on this show was the last thing she’d wanted to do. But when Liz Graffman, the seventy-year-old widow who owned Lady Windemere Cosmetics, received a call from the television network asking that its vice president fly to New York and be on the Jack Hendley show, Mallory couldn’t say no to Liz’s plea.
Lady Windemere Cosmetics would get the kind of exposure on his show you couldn’t buy at any price.
Over the last thirty-six months, Mallory’s relationship with Liz had become like that of a favorite great-aunt and niece. Surely Mallory could stand a half hour of being patronized by one of television’s longstanding night talk show hosts.
“A tycoon by definition implies someone who owns a company or many companies. I only work for one,” she corrected him with a friendly smile. He didn’t smile back which was no surprise since he could sense she was refusing to play ball with him.
“However to answer your question, when I was old enough to think about the world, there was only one thing that drove me; my insatiable love for surfing.”
His eyes flared because he hadn’t been expecting that response. “Where did you grow up?”
“Huntington Beach, California.”
“That explains it. Were you a good surfer?”
“I won a few western regional championships at Redondo Beach and Malibu.”
Several wolf whistles resounded along with the clapping from the listening audience.
“At this juncture I’m sure every eligible male watching would like to know if there’s a future Lord Windemere waiting in the wings somewhere.”
The man was so predictable she had to stifle a moan before she said, “No.”
“Does that mean—”
“It just means no,” she broke in on him with a purposely engaging smile that lit up her brilliant blue eyes. Mallory had done her share of dating. She loved men as much as the next woman, but she didn’t confuse her personal and professional life by getting too close to any one man. In fact she couldn’t see it happening in the foreseeable future. Maybe one day.
“So what happened to turn you from a surfer into a corporate attorney?”
She’d made him uncomfortable with her brief, unrevealing answers. Good. It was about time he’d asked her a question relevant to her being on the show in the first place.
“If I wasn’t surfing, I was reading beneath a beach umbrella. At an early age I became addicted to comic books. My father has a huge collection dating from the forties to the present which he treasures to this day. I must have read every one of them and particularly liked the stories about the Amazon women from Paradise Island with their secret powers.”
He turned to the audience. “Put her in one of those sexy little outfits, and she’d look just like them.” His remark provoked more whistles and cheers.
Mallory ignored the remark. When the din died down she said, “During the WWII years, the man who created that series once said that if women were given a little more time and the added strength they’d develop out of the war, they’d begin to control things in a serious way. When women ruled, there wouldn’t be any more war because the girls wouldn’t want to waste time killing men.”
Another loud burst of applause broke out.
“Needless to say, those comments found a resonant chord in me. From that moment on I decided I would be one of those women who would begin to control things in a serious way.”
By now most of the women were on their feet clapping while the band played some more theme music. When it finally subsided and they sat down again the host said, “So it’s true that since you’ve taken over the reins, Lady Windemere has become an all women-run company?”
Mallory nodded, then cocked her head. The unconscious gesture caused her long, glistening hair, the color of dark mink, to slide over one shoulder.
“That’s right. Women want to be beautiful for men, but they dress and put on makeup to pass a woman’s inspection. You’re married, Mr. Hendley. When your wife asks you if you like her in pink or red lipstick, what do you say?”
“That I like her no matter what she wears.”
“Exactly. You sound like a good husband who knows how to stay out of hot water. But you’re no help because you don’t want to offend her by giving her a wrong answer.
“The female managers and employees at Lady Windemere don’t have to be careful in the same way. They’ll tell a customer the truth and create a pallet of colors just for her to make her feel her most beautiful and confident. In the end she’ll buy more products and stay loyal to the brand for life.”
“In other words, I won’t be able to find a man to wait on me if I walk into one of your stores.”
Her remarks had gotten under his skin. She sat back in the chair resting her hands on the armrests.
“No.”
“Some might argue that you’re sexist.”
Mallory had been waiting for that salvo. She re-crossed her long elegant legs. “After taking a good look at Windemere, I saw what I thought needed doing in order to turn it into a promising business concern.
“If I were in the hierarchy of a company that didn’t cater exclusively to women, naturally the question of whether to employ males or females wouldn’t be a relevant issue.”
His brows lifted. “You mean you wouldn’t fire all the men and put a bunch of women in charge, say—if you headed a national auto parts chain that was going under?”
The man refused to let the subject go. Maybe that was why his ratings were slipping. Mallory was beginning to understand why the network was planning to install a woman co-host. They needed a feminine element to offset his sexist outlook on life.
“If it were in my power to hire and fire, I’d see who was productive and who wasn’t. Whether male or female, they’d be gone if they didn’t have the company’s best interest at heart.”
He sat back in his chair, eyeing her speculatively. “We only have a minute left before we have to go. I see a lot of hands in the audience.” He turned to them. “What’s your question?”
“How about a date after the show?” a half a dozen guys shouted.
Mallory had known better than to expect any questions about Lady Windemere cosmetics, not after the way the host had handled the program.
“Thank you, but my busy schedule won’t permit it,” she answered with another smile. “You’ve been such a great audience, I want you to have some samples of Lady Windemere products I brought with me. They’ll be outside the doors when you leave.”
While the audience cheered and clapped, she pulled a gift-wrapped package from her purse.
“This is for your wife, Mr. Hendley. Compliments of Lady Windemere.” Actually it was from Liz who’d placed a personal note inside.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy your products. Thank you.” He put it to one side. “Before we sign off, can you tell the audience what your plans are after you leave New York?”
“Yes. I’m on my way to Europe to visit our newest store in Lisbon.”
“So it’s business as usual. Did you pick up a degree in Portuguese while you were at Yale too?”
His condescension bored her.
“Don’t I wish. Fortunately for me the new manager communicates in excellent English and Spanish as well as her native tongue.”
He turned to the band and started speaking Spanish to one of the Hispanic members, supposedly to impress his audience, but Mallory’s thoughts were on the new manager she was going to visit, Lianor D’Afonso.
The Portuguese woman exemplified the company’s top female executives abroad who were intelligent, sophisticated, lovely, feminine and possessed great business sense.
During the three week training session in Los Angeles where six European managers had come together, Mallory had felt a particular fondness for the single, twenty-nine-year-old Lianor.
When they weren’t working, Mallory had taken her to many of the tourist sites. They’d discovered that they had a lot in common and agreed on many things.
Mallory had grown up an only child, but if she could have had a sister, she would have wanted someone as delightful as Lianor.
It had been almost four months since the training session had ended. Mallory had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Lianor who’d be meeting her plane tomorrow evening.
“We’re out of time folks,” Jack Hendley said, switching back to English to regain Mallory’s attention. “It’s been a real treat to have you on the show, Ms. Ellis.”
Naturally he didn’t ask her to come back again. She hadn’t been any fun.
“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Hendley.” She shook hands with him and stood up.
As she left the stage to a round of applause and more wolf whistles, she could hear his mind saying, “Why don’t you go on home and find yourself a man. It’ll make a real woman out of you, honey.”
Mallory had heard it all many times before.
Relieved the show was over and she could get back to normal, she left the studio. A cab came along to take her to her hotel. She’d been working nonstop for a long time and was looking forward to a change of pace the short trip to Portugal would provide.
Rafael D’Afonso grimaced when he realized the new Lady Windemere cosmetics boutique on the rua Da Plata appeared to be thriving.
It was June. By now he’d hoped the American-based company where his sister had been installed as manager would have been forced to close its doors. She would have had no option but to look for another job. Maybe then he could have talked her into giving up her Lisbon apartment and coming back home.
Unfortunately his hopes on that score were dashed last week by an offhand comment she’d made about the first quarter’s earnings being even higher than the home company had projected.
She loved her new job and wasn’t about to give it up.
Since their parents’ death twelve years ago, he’d been watching out for his strong-willed sister who’d already turned down several marriage proposals. If she immersed herself in business much longer, she would miss out on the most important role of her life—becoming a wife.
Lianor was already twenty-nine, six years younger than he was. Time was running out for her. One day soon she would mourn the fact that she had no husband, no children. He refused to let the scars from her past ruin the rest of her life.
Though Rafael was weighted down by bad news that hadn’t fully sunk in yet, he decided now was the perfect time to use it as leverage to force her to come home and embrace the life she was meant to live. All he wanted was her happiness.
As he entered the boutique located in Lisbon’s Chiado district, their gazes met. She was still helping a customer. Her other two employees were both busy as well. Taking a deep breath to curb his impatience, he headed for her private office. He would wait for her no matter how long it took.
To his relief she joined him within a couple of minutes. He put his cell phone away and hugged her. After she’d sat down behind her desk she smiled, looking supremely pleased with herself.
“Take a chair, brother dear. You’re prowling like a hungry wolf. What’s put that grave look on your face?”
He remained standing. “There’s no easy way to say this. As you know, Maria has experienced unbearable stomach pain lately. She finally went to the doctor and was diagnosed with cancer. She’s in the very last stages. He said she won’t be leaving the hospital.”
“Oh no—” Lianor cried. In the next instant she’d leaped from the chair and had thrown her arms around him again, dissolved in tears. “The poor thing. What about Apolonia? Does she know yet?”
“No.” He’d left his ten-year-old daughter playing with a friend. His housekeeper, Ines, was watching them. “It’s going to come as a tremendous shock.”
“I can’t believe it. Maria’s too young. I thought she’d be with you until Apolonia was all grown up.”
“So did I,” he muttered.
“This is awful,” she lamented.
It was. Since his wife, Isabell, had died of pneumonia within weeks of giving birth, sixty-two-year-old Maria who’d been a maid in Isabell’s parents’ home, had taken on the role of surrogate grandmother to Apolonia.
Lately his daughter had grown quiet and seemed moody which was not her normal nature. No doubt her worry over Maria, who hadn’t been able to hide her discomfort from the family for several months now, was at the root of her uncharacteristic behavior.
He feared that when Apolonia heard that the only mother-type figure she’d ever known was on the verge of death, his daughter wouldn’t be able to handle it without Lianor being there to take her place.
“That’s why I came here instead of phoning you. I want you to come home with me and we’ll tell her together tonight.”
She pulled out of his arms, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, Rafael, but I’m afraid I can’t.”
He blinked in shock. “Why? What’s more important?”
“The vice president of the company is flying in from New York. I have to pick her up at the airport in two hours.”
“You mean the notorious Lady Windemere?”
His sister looked wounded. “I’m sorry that her being a brilliant woman lauded by Wall Street makes you see her in such an unfavorable light, Rafael.”
“How else can a man view a woman who’s hard as nails, as the Americans say.”
“You’re wrong about her, you know. She’s not the owner, and she’s not Lady Windemere. For your information it’s the name she gave the company to revitalize and romanticize it. The rising profits are the proof of her business acumen.
“Her name is Mallory Ellis. And I’m asking you not to speak about her in such a derogatory way again.”
He couldn’t help it.
Mallory. Even her name sounded too masculine to his ear. There was nothing soft about Lianor’s new idol. The idea of his sister spending any more time with some hard-boiled female powerhouse who eschewed marriage and family was anathema to him.
“How long is she going to be here?” his voice grated.
“Tonight through tomorrow night. She’ll fly home the following day.”
Rafael swore under his breath.
She put a placating hand on his arm. “Look—don’t say anything to Apolonia for a couple of more days. I promise I’ll come home as soon as Mallory has flown back to the States.”
He fought to tamp down his frustration. “It doesn’t look like I have any choice. Where’s this American paragon going to stay while she’s here?”
“At my apartment.”
“No, Lianor, you can’t do that.”
“She has become a friend, Rafael. While I was in California she went out of her way to show me one of the most wonderful times of my life. We stayed overnight at her parents’ house and they were nothing but gracious to me.”
Rafael had no idea all that had gone on while she’d been out of the country.
“I’m certainly not going to let her go to some sterile hotel room. Besides, you always wine and dine your friends and business associates at home.”
“I happen to live at our family’s pousada which makes it convenient to entertain guests.”
His sister eyed him frankly. “Taking her home would have been my first choice, but knowing how you feel about my job, I thought it best to stay away.”
“It’s your home too,” he averred forcefully. After a pause, “Bring her there tonight.” He decided he wanted to meet this dangerous stranger who’d become friendly with his sister so quickly. “I’ll arrange for a room.”
“This is very important to me, Rafael. Will you give her the Alfama suite?”
The Alfama? His first inclination was to remind her that he reserved the best suite in the palacio for heads of state and royalty. But he caught himself in time.
“I’m prepared to do that favor for you…provided you do one for me later.”
“Of course.”
He eyed his sister through veiled eyes. She had no idea what she’d just agreed to. “I’ll inform Vaz she’ll be staying there for two nights.”
“Thank you,” she whispered before kissing his cheek. “I love you. I know you’re worried sick about Apolonia’s reaction. Over the next few days I’ll try and think of someone who could take Maria’s place.”
“I already have the perfect person in mind,” he murmured, “but we’ll talk about it when I can have your undivided attention.”
After giving her another hug, he left her office in a better mood than when he’d arrived. Apolonia and Lianor adored each other. His sister wouldn’t be able to turn him down when he asked her to take over Maria’s role.
It would bring Lianor back into their world of mutual friends and men. To make certain she said yes, he would visit Maria in the hospital here in Lisbon right now and tell her Lianor had agreed to be there full-time for Apolonia. That would calm Maria’s fears.
As for Lianor, when she went to see Maria, the older woman would thank her for doing her duty as Apolonia’s loving aunt, that is if she could still communicate. Lianor wouldn’t have the heart to argue with a dying woman.
His sister didn’t know it yet, but she needed his daughter as much as Apolonia needed her.
Driving into the city from the airport, Mallory thought she’d never seen anything as romantic as Lisbon against a twilight sky. Draped over seven hills with the Tagus river flowing through, the sight enchanted her. She said as much to Lianor who’d picked her up outside the terminal in a silver Jaguar.
The other woman nodded. “If you think this is beautiful, wait till you see my family’s home overlooking the Atlantic. That’s where you’ll be staying while you’re here. It’s just a half hour from Lisbon on the Estoril coast with its own private beach.”
“It sounds heavenly.”
“Do you want to stop for something to eat first?”
“Thank you for offering, but they served a meal on the plane before we landed. I’m still full.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Positive. Right now I just want to absorb everything.”
“That’s how I felt when I flew to Los Angeles for the training session. After it was over and you took me to the airport, I couldn’t resist spending a few days in San Francisco. The plane landed at about this same time of night. For a moment I thought I’d returned to Lisbon because the two cities reminded me of each other.”
“Me too,” Mallory murmured, “but Lisbon is ancient. That’s what makes it so fascinating. Judging by the success of your first quarter earnings, putting the shop in the medieval part of the city was the right decision.”
“I know it was. We’re always busy, and getting busier.”
“That’ll be music to Liz’s ears. She and I discussed the store’s location with the marketing and sales departments at length. I’m glad the company decided to take the risk, and I’m particularly glad they hired you.”
“I’m the one who’s thrilled.”
Mallory found herself warming more and more to Lianor. In fact the whole Windemere staff had taken to her. Several of them had even commented that from a distance, she and Mallory looked like they could be sisters with their tall, curvaceous figures and long dark hair.
But upon closer inspection, Lianor’s olive skin and dramatic brown eyes were in direct contrast to Mallory who’d inherited a peaches-and-cream complexion from her mother. Still, the observation had pleased both of them.
“Loving your work is a blessing, Lianor. Not everyone does. Without the right manager that store wouldn’t be doing as well, and certainly not this soon. Liz has arranged for you to receive a bonus in your next paycheck for all your hard work.”
Lianor beamed before whispering her thanks. “When my brother first heard I’d been hired to manage a cosmetic shop on the rua Da Plata, he warned me I’d be out of a job in a few months because it would fold in the old district. Instead the locals and tourists flock to it.”
Mallory’s eyes danced. “From what you’ve told me, your brother is one of the most successful businessmen in the country. But because he’s a man, he doesn’t understand that a woman will stop whatever she’s doing long enough to try out new cosmetics.”
Her friend nodded. “Rafael’s wife, Isabell, the one I told you about who died ten years ago, was a natural beauty. She rarely used makeup or lipstick around him because he didn’t like it. He says all men prefer women au naturel, so he discounts its importance.”
“But he can’t discount the earnings of your shop now, can he.”
Again her friend grinned. “No, and it’s killing him to admit it.”
“In that case, it might be interesting for him to see the results of our marketing department’s studies done among men throughout Europe. I brought a chart with me. The Portuguese statistics, particularly, would be very illuminating if he ever took the time to look at them.”
“Tell me!” Lianor cried like a co-conspirator.
Mallory brushed the hair away from her cheek, getting caught up in the excitement with her. “Only twenty-one percent of Portuguese men prefer their women without lipstick.”
“I knew it!” her companion blurted.
“The other seventy-nine percent is divided; twenty-eight percent love their women in shocking pink lipstick, followed by seventeen percent who love lip gloss. Sixteen percent like pale pink and the softer shades. Ten percent prefer red, and seven percent like beige or brown.”
Laughter broke out on Lianor’s lips. “Rafael’s forte is marketing. As he says, ‘It’s all in the figures.”’
“He’s right. They don’t lie.”
“I can’t wait to show him that chart, but I’m afraid it will only upset him more.”
“Why? Surely he wants you to succeed!”
“It isn’t that. He’s been unhappy ever since I was hired.”
This was the first Mallory had heard of it. “I don’t understand. After college you worked in the marketing division of a large department store several years before joining the company.”
“That’s true, but I wasn’t the manager.”
“With your talents and background, you should have been,” Mallory stated emphatically. “What is it about your being in charge that bothers him so much?”
“That’s not the problem. Simply put, he wants me to get married, settle down and raise a family. You’d have to be a younger sister and Portuguese to understand. It’s a male thing here. He’s my older brother and protective and—”
“Say no more,” Mallory broke in. “I’ve met his type before. They’re alive and well in America too. You would know what I meant if you could have watched the television talk show I was on last night.” She proceeded to tell Lianor about her experience with Jack Hendley.
Lianor nodded. “Sounds like Rafael. He’s afraid I’ll never meet a man as long as I’m running a store, let alone one that sells women’s products. What he doesn’t realize is, I could go out every night of the week, and still not come across a man who truly interests me.”
“My sentiments exactly.” Mallory flashed her a compassionate glance. “In order to placate your brother, you might remind him that part of our new advertising campaign is geared to reaching the male population—that group looking for a special personal gift for his wife, girlfriend, or mother.
“Knowing what the Portuguese men want, the company is prepared to cater to their individual tastes. Assure him you’ll be meeting a lot of male customers as time goes by.”
“Unfortunately Rafael wants that miracle to happen now. Tonight!”
They both broke into laughter.
“It sounds like he loves you a lot,” Mallory observed.
“He does, and it’s mutual.”
Mallory already knew that. No matter the topic of conversation, since she’d first met Lianor, her brother’s name always managed to creep into the conversation.
Lianor flicked her another glance. “Your father was so nice and laid-back. Does he ever get upset because you’re not married yet?”
“Maybe,” Mallory murmured honestly, “but neither he nor mom has ever said anything. It’s probably because they didn’t marry until their early thirties. They don’t want to come off sounding like hypocrites.”
“My mother was just nineteen when she married my father. Rafael proposed to Isabell when she was only twenty.”
Rafael again. “What do you think’s the reason he hasn’t remarried?”
Her companion let out a deep sigh. “It isn’t for a lack of women! Most of the time I’m appalled at the lengths they go to in order to capture my brother’s attention. But the plain truth is, he loved Isabell so much, it almost killed him when she died. Since then he’s been devoted to Apolonia, and has buried himself in work.”
Apolonia. The niece with the beautiful name.
“Maybe you need to get busy and find him someone he could love. You know him better than anyone else. If he married again, he might not be quite as concerned about your single status.”
“Don’t count on it,” Lianor muttered. “However you’ve given me an idea to solve a problem that’s been plaguing me since he came to the store earlier today with bad news. It has shaken me for several reasons.”
The unexpected emotional throb in Lianor’s voice alerted Mallory that whatever was on her mind was serious. “Do you want to talk about it?” she ventured quietly.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up, but you’re too good a listener.”
“I feel the same way about you. Why do you think I came to Portugal?”
Lianor’s head jerked around for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“You’re running the store so well, I didn’t really need to come. But since I was already in New York, it seemed the perfect opportunity to take you up on your offer to visit.”
“I’m glad you did, Mallory.”
“So am I.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday and the shop will be closed. I’ll take you sight-seeing. Give yourself a couple of weeks here and we’ll be able to cover the whole city on foot if you want.”
“Oh I want,” she assured the other woman. “If only I could take two weeks off to do nothing but soak up the atmosphere. Nevertheless tomorrow I’m hoping to sleep in and then lie on the beach. I haven’t had a real holiday since I went to work for Liz.”
“That’s too long to go without,” Lianor chastised her, in the nicest possible way of course.
Mallory’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Now that we have that settled, tell me about your brother’s bad news.”
In a few minutes she’d put Mallory in the picture.
“Maria’s virtually irreplaceable,” Lianor confided further. “We all love her, and Rafael has depended on her so totally, I’m worried. Of course he has Ines, his housekeeper. He can rely on her to help him with my niece, but it’s only a temporary solution.
“I have to face the fact that word of Maria’s fatal illness changed his whole world today. As for Apolonia, the loss will be devastating when she finds out Maria isn’t coming back.”
Mallory could only agree.
“My closest girlfriend from childhood has recently come out of an ugly divorce from her Spanish husband. She’s back from Madrid and needs something to absorb her time right now. Rafael has always known Joana and liked her. So has Apolonia. I’m thinking if she came to help, it would be good for all three of them.”
“You could be right,” Mallory said. “Given time, they might even fall in love. How nice would that be. Your best friend becoming your sister-in-law.”
“Don’t think I didn’t used to fantasize about it. However that was a long time ago, before Rafael fell for Isabell and dashed both our dreams.”
“You mean yours and Joana’s.”
“Yes. She was crazy about my brother.”
Somehow that news didn’t surprise Mallory, not if he was as remarkable as Lianor—in all the ways that really counted.
At this point they’d reached the coast, a breathtaking sight this time of night. The smell of the ocean intoxicated her. Waves crashed against the sand, creating froth that stood out in the darkness. She could hear the pounding surf, that familiar sound she craved almost as much as she craved air to breathe. She didn’t know how much she’d missed it until now.
They rounded a curve on the winding highway. Suddenly she let out a cry. There was a baroque palace on a cliff in the distance, lit up as if it hung in the sky. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing is real,” she whispered. “What’s the name of it, Lianor?”
“Rafael and I call it home, but the tourists know it as the Palacio D’Afonso.”
Speechless, Mallory’s head turned, unable to do anything but stare at her friend.
“It was one of several small palaces built by King Pedro the Second of Portugal. Some historians claim he had it built and named it in honor of his brother King Afonso who was paralyzed and died at the age of eleven. Others say he built it out of guilt after deposing Afonso and exiling him to the Azores while Pedro was acting regent.”
“Ooh—that doesn’t sound good.”
Lianor chuckled. “By the time my great-grandfather inherited it, the cost of keeping it up forced the family to turn it into a hotel so it wouldn’t pass from the D’Afonso line. Historians still argue whether it began through one of Pedro’s illicit liaisons with a courtesan. We’ll never know for sure.
“After our parents died at sea, Rafael was the one who made it into the prosperous resort it is today. Because of his genius, our family now owns half a dozen small castles and palaces in various parts of the country which have been converted into tourist resorts we call pousadas.”
To the average onlooker, the D’Afonso family would seem to be living a fairy-tale existence. But like all human beings, they had their own share of private tragedies to deal with.
“Did you ever ask your brother if you could manage one of them?” Mallory couldn’t help asking.
“No. I’ve always wanted to do my own thing.”
“We’re kindred spirits, Lianor.”
“I know. That’s what’s got Rafael worried.”
“Now you’re making me nervous.”
“Please don’t be. I’ll have you know he has made arrangements for you to stay in the best suite. Just last week it was occupied by the President of Mexico and his wife.”
Mallory shook her head. “I don’t want or need special treatment.”
“Maybe not, but you’re going to get it. I know how hard you’ve worked since law school. It’s time for you to be pampered, so sit back and enjoy it.”
A chuckle escaped Mallory’s throat. “When you put it like that…”
“Thank you for not arguing with me. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
CHAPTER TWO
“INES?”
Rafael walked in the family’s private entrance at the north end of the palacio. He headed for the kitchen, grim-faced.
“I’m here. How is Maria tonight?” she called back to him as he pushed open the double doors.
“She’s deteriorating fast.”
Ines’ eyes watered. “Apolonia is missing her already.”
“Where is she?”
“She and Violente went into the other part of the palacio to look for some postcards while they waited for Violente’s father to pick her up in reception. I told Apolonia she had to be back in a half hour.”
He took a steadying breath. “Now that school is out, I don’t like the idea of adding to your burdens by asking you to take full-time care of her.” Ines was in her early seventies and slowing down. “Which one of the maids do you trust to watch her for a few hours each day to help you out?”
“Either Nina or Brianca.”
Rafael rubbed his jaw and felt the rasp. “Isn’t Brianca a little young?”
“She’s eighteen, but she’s very responsible and she likes Apolonia. It would be good for your daughter to have someone who will play with her.”
Ines was right about that.
“Will you talk to Brianca then?”
“First thing in the morning.”
“Good. Tell her I’ll make it worth her while financially until Lianor is prepared to take over.”
“She has agreed?” his housekeeper cried out with joy, putting her palms together beneath her chin.
“Not in so many words yet, but she will,” he vowed with such ferocity, Ines blinked. “Don’t say anything about Maria or Lianor yet. I don’t want her to know what’s happening until I’m forced to tell her Maria won’t be coming home again.”
“Claro,” the older woman said before turning away, sniffing.
He checked his watch. Lianor ought to be arriving with her guest anytime now. “I need to make some phone calls, then I’ll go find Apolonia. Thanks for all your help, Ines. Boa noite.”
“Boa noite, Rafael.”
The Palacio D’Afonso proved to be a masterpiece of baroque and Moorish architecture mixed together. Mallory heard Lianor call to her, but she was too busy drinking in everything to talk.
Checkered marble paved the floor and ornate staircase of the enormous entrance hall. She lifted her head to take in the beauty of its lofty dome exquisitely painted with flowers and birds. Between the rich decorative art and paintings on the walls, she stood there spellbound.
“Wander around to your heart’s content,” Lianor said. “Your suitcase has been taken upstairs. Give me a minute to make certain your room is ready. I’ll be right back.”
“This palace is so magnificent, I’m speechless,” Mallory murmured. “You don’t have to hurry on my account,” she added with a smile. “I might just stay here indefinitely.”
“Wait till you see where you’re going to sleep tonight.” Lianor left her with that provocative thought before she started up the staircase where several elegantly dressed hotel guests were just descending.
The couple disappeared through one of four sets of tall double doors to the left of them. Mallory caught a glimpse of a sumptuous-looking dining room and sucked in her breath.
What a fantastic place to be raised! And paradise to have the Atlantic at your feet too?
Still mesmerized by such splendor, she didn’t realize anyone else had entered the massive foyer until she heard a girl’s voice cry, “Tia Lianor!”
Mallory turned around to discover two dark-haired girls around ten or eleven who’d come through double doors on the opposite side of the great hall. Behind them she saw a room with a counter and several people working. For a front desk, it had been cleverly hidden.
The girl who was staring at Mallory with brown eyes identical to Lianor’s made a funny sound and put a hand to her mouth. The other girl holding something in her hand started to giggle.
“Are you Apolonia?”
The girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Do you speak English?” Mallory asked, drawing closer to them.
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard lovely things about you from your Tia Lianor.”
That brought a smile to the girl’s face.
“She’ll be down in a minute. My name is Mallory Ellis.” She extended her hand.
“How do you do,” Apolonia said in very proper English and shook it. Some flicker of recognition caused her features to become even more expressive. “You are her friend from California in America.”
Friend. That was nice to hear.
“Yes. I’ve come to visit her for a couple of days. When you saw me from the back, you thought I was your aunt, didn’t you?” Both Mallory and Lianor happened to be wearing black pantsuits.
She nodded.
“Other people have said the same thing. Who’s your friend?”
“Oh—” she cried, as if suddenly remembering her manners. “This is my best friend, Violente Camoes. We’re waiting for her father.”
Mallory grasped the other girl’s hand that wasn’t full of postcards. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Violente. I love your name.”
“She does not like it,” Apolonia confided. “Her brother says she was named after Queen Maria the First of Portugal. The servants called her Violente because she was insano.”
“Insane?”
“Yes.”
Trying to smother her laughter, Mallory said, “What’s your brother’s name, Violente?”
“Tomas.”
“Ah—that explains it!”
“What do you mean?” Apolonia asked while both girls stared at her wide-eyed.
“Her brother is just jealous because he wasn’t named after a king.”
Apolonia turned to her friend and translated in Portuguese. Her friend’s mouth broke into a wide smile. She whispered something back in Portuguese to Apolonia.
Mallory couldn’t help but marvel at her grasp of English. Not only had she benefited from the English-speaking tourists who stayed here, according to Lianor her niece went to the same private school she’d once attended. It was run by the nuns. No wonder their family was so well educated.
“Violente thinks you’re very nice. I do too.”
“Well thank you. I feel the same way about both of you.”
“My father said you are notarus.”
Mallory blinked. “Do you mean notorious?”
“Yes. I don’t know that word.”
She choked down more laughter. Wait till she told Lianor. “I think he got it mixed up with the word industrious. It means I like to work and use my brain.” She tapped the side of her head so the girls would understand.
“But he frowned like this when he said it,” she informed her before doing a great imitation of one.
“Violente?”
At the sound of a male voice, all three of them turned in time to see a well-dressed man around forty enter the foyer. He signaled for his daughter to come. She waved goodbye to them, then ran toward him.
No sooner had they left the foyer than Lianor appeared on the stairs. Apolonia rushed toward her aunt and started talking in rapid Portuguese.
“Why don’t you speak English in front of our guest. It will be good practice for you.”
“She already has. Very beautifully I might add,” Mallory said after catching up with them. “In fact I found out something quite interesting.”
Quickly she related her exchange with Apolonia. Lianor fought not to laugh in front of her niece. “Your father’s English is excellent, Apolonia, but sometimes even he makes mistakes.”
Mallory’s gaze rested on the girl. “I can’t imagine being able to speak fluent Portuguese when I was your age. You have superior intelligence just like your aunt.”
Her sweet face lit up. “Thank you.”
“Come with us,” Lianor urged. “We’ll show you to your room.”
Mallory followed them to the second floor. The staircase curved around, giving out on a corridor that ran the length of the palace. In between paintings and tapestries, she glimpsed double doors to the various rooms.
They passed another exquisitely shaped marble staircase before reaching a pair of double doors facing them at the south end. They looked massive and impregnable.
Behind them was another set of doors. Above those she saw an inscription set in the colorful azulejo tiles for which Portugal was famous.
“What does it say?”
“Our lips easily meet high across the narrow street. It’s a saying of the poet Frederico de Brito who wrote about the Alfama district of Lisbon where the streets between the houses are only four feet wide. The people on opposite sides can reach out of their homes and touch each other.”
Lianor rolled her eyes. “Someone in the D’Afonso family who had romantic notions put it there. Most likely it was a man who wanted to remind his wife of her marital duty,” she muttered sotto voce.
“No doubt,” Mallory concurred with a grin. She looked down at Apolonia who couldn’t quite follow their whole conversation. Wanting to include her she said, “Why are there two sets of double doors?”
“This is where the king stayed. He kept soldiers by both doors.”
“If we’re talking about Pedro II, I can see why,” Mallory murmured. “The man must have had some serious enemies.”
Lianor’s eyes met hers and they both chuckled. But Mallory’s laughter ceased the moment she stepped inside the suite and got her first look at the royal apartment which was really a small palace within a palace.
The melange of Muslim, Arabic, Visigoth and Moorish accoutrements filling the huge rooms defied description.
Both D’Afonsos took her on the grand tour which included a living room with a priceless Moorish tile floor put down in bands of blue and white that undulated like the rolling waves across an ocean. Dark crisscrossed beams defined the painted ceiling of flowers and angels.
There was a library worth a king’s ransom, a delightful airy music room with an antique piano, a sitting room, another bedroom, a kitchen and dining room which faced west and opened on to a private balcony that overlooked the ocean.
Lianor had to drag Mallory away from the view in order to show her the superb bedroom with its giant canopied bed and private balcony. It gave out on an unparalleled vista of the beach and ocean to the southwest. The constant crash of waves upon the sand far below set the rhythm of her heart. She felt enchanted.
Throwing back her head, she stood there breathing in the sea air while her long hair swished around her in the night breeze.
“Do you like it?” Apolonia asked.
Almost too enthralled to speak, she finally answered the girl’s question.
“I love it so much, I think I shall sleep out here tonight in that lounger next to the table and dream.”
“What will you dream about?
“Portuguese navigators who bravely set sail across the ocean to explore new worlds.”
Apolonia looked delighted with that answer. “I love the ocean too.”
“Living here, how could you not?”
“Do you like to swim?”
“It’s my favorite sport.”
“Mine too. My father taught me.”
“Speaking of your father,” Lianor broke in, “I bet he’s looking for you.”
She shook her head. “He went to see Maria in the hospital. I hope he says she can come home tomorrow.”
A signal of distress passed from Lianor to Mallory.
“I’m sure he’s back by now so you can ask him. It’s getting late and I think everyone’s tired, especially Mallory. She’s flown all the way from New York.”
She put her arm around her niece’s shoulders. “Let’s go to bed, shall we?”
The three of them walked to the first set of doors. Lianor turned to Mallory. “What time do you want breakfast served in here?”
Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to tell her not to go to the trouble she said, “How about ten o’clock after my morning swim? But only if you and Apolonia join me.”
“We’ll be here.”
Apolonia looked up at her. “Do you like salsicha?”
“It’s Portuguese sausage,” Lianor supplied.
“Is that your favorite?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll definitely try it. Good night, Apolonia.” They hugged again. What a wonderful girl she was. If Mallory had a daughter, she’d want her to be exactly like Lianor’s niece.
“Good night.”
“See you tomorrow,” Lianor whispered.
Mallory nodded. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
She closed the doors after them. When she turned around, she felt like she’d been magically transported back in time. Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Moors had occupied this land. It was from these shores Vasco de Gama had set out on his voyage. Shivers of excitement raced through her body.
After she’d prepared for bed and left a voice message on her parents’ phone to let them know she’d arrived safely, she walked out on the balcony with a pillow and blanket.
Mallory hadn’t intended to sleep out there all night. But when she heard the sound of gulls and opened her eyes, light filled the sky and was burning off the morning mist. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.
She went inside and made hot chocolate, then took the colorful ceramic mug and walked back to the balcony where she watched the ocean for at least an hour. Every now and again she saw a ship in the far distance.
From her vantage point, the swells looked mild this morning. There were two curls of waves that broke some distance from the shore.
A few guests were already swimming, but they stayed close in. Several palace employees were arranging loungers, towels and umbrellas. The sandy beach was starting to show signs of life as more guests appeared. Mallory could hardly wait to get out there herself. She had time. Breakfast wouldn’t be for another forty-five minutes.
Before leaving her condo in Los Angeles, she’d packed her ancient one-piece yellow and orange suit she always wore for surfing. She’d also brought a pair of sandals she wore on the beach. Once she was ready, she hurried out of the room and used the closest staircase to reach the ground floor.
“Bom Dia.” A male palace employee opened the doors for her so she could go outside.
“Bom Dia,” she answered. “Thank you.”
The ocean was calling to her. After negotiating more steps down to the pristine beach, she stopped by the nearest lounger, deposited her sandals and ran into the water.
It was warmer than the ocean at Huntington Beach this time of day. Lianor had referred to this area as the Sun Coast where you could swim year-round.
This was heaven!
Mallory used the momentum from the fairly strong rip current to reach the curls quickly. In the late afternoon she would ask for a surfboard and come out again when the waves were bigger. Right now they were perfect for body surfing.
Once she got way out, she had so much fun she lost track of time. It wasn’t until she was waiting for one final wave before going back to the palacio that she heard people shouting. The sounds of terrified voices made her suddenly aware of her surroundings.
There were at least twenty people gathered near the water. Amid all the noise she heard someone crying out Apolonia’s name over and over again hysterically.
Oh no…
Mallory started swimming parallel to the shore, cleaving the water as fast as she could in the direction they were pointing. Several swimmers were making an attempt to get beyond the first curl, but they weren’t strong enough.
A little further now she could see Apolonia who’d somehow made it past both curls, but she must have grown tired.
Her head was back, mouth open. Those little arms were extended, making downward motions in the water. She was drowning!
Please God. Don’t let it happen.
In a few more strokes Mallory executed a deep dive under Apolonia, then came up behind her and put her hand under her chin.
“I’m here, darling. Lie still and let me do the work. Your father wouldn’t want to go on living without you. I’ll get you back to him,” she promised.
Using the rescue side stroke, Mallory headed for shore with her precious cargo, praying all the way.
The crowd gathered round as she pulled the girl’s limp body onto the beach and turned her on her side to get any water out of her lungs.
Though she felt a pulse, waves of fear washed over Mallory to realize Apolonia wasn’t breathing. In an instant she put the girl on her back and immediately began mouth to mouth resuscitation.
Keep calm, Mallory. Pace yourself. Fifteen compressions, two ventilations. Fifteen compressions, two ventilations.
Time had no meaning as she settled down to perform this procedure for as long as it took. She’d only rescued one other person when she’d been out surfing. It was an adult who’d gotten in trouble, but after she’d reached the beach with him, he’d started breathing right away.
This was much different. Apolonia had been struggling too long. She had to live. There’d been enough tragedy in their household. She was exceptional. Her family needed her.
Let her live.
When Mallory had all but lost hope, she heard sputtering and quickly rolled Apolonia on her side to get rid of more water.
“Papa,” the girl half moaned her father’s name.
Mallory’s heart rejoiced.
“I’m right here, querida,” came a deep masculine voice so full of love and emotion, Mallory’s eyes flooded with tears.
“We’ll take over now,” another voice sounded.
With exquisite relief, Mallory sat back on her heels to let the paramedics deal with Apolonia. Over the shoulders of one of them, her eyes met another pair of eyes. Intensely black and moist. They stared at her incredulously before the man got to his feet.
It had only been a fleeting moment of contact, yet she felt a trembling in her soul even after he’d followed the stretcher into the ambulance and it had driven off.
Lianor knelt down and wrapped her arms around Mallory, sobbing quietly as she poured out her gratitude. They stayed in that position until Mallory stopped trembling.
When they both finally got to their feet, an older woman standing nearby made the sign of the cross and kept murmuring something Mallory didn’t understand. Lianor introduced them.
“This is our housekeeper, Ines. She’s saying ‘Bless you.”’
Mallory swallowed hard. “Tell Ines that God helped me.”
After hearing the translation, the older woman’s eyes filled with tears. They spilled down her pale cheeks.
The dozen or so sober-faced staff hovering next to the housekeeper said the same words, ‘Bless you,’ before they dispersed and got back to their duties. Ines followed them inside the palace.
Before resuming their various pleasures, the guests who’d been out on the beach congregated around Mallory and praised her in several languages for her heroic rescue.
That left one young woman in a bikini who looked to be in her late teens. She stood there with her face in her hands, weeping. Lianor went over and put her arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
“This is Brianca, Mallory. Just this morning Ines asked her to keep an eye on Apolonia until we had breakfast. They came down to swim. When my niece saw you body surfing, she wanted to do it too and slipped away before Brianca could stop her.
“The lifeguard doesn’t come on duty until eleven o’clock, and Apolonia knows better than to go swimming without Rafael. As you can see, Brianca is devastated. I’ve tried to tell her it’s not her fault.”
No. The fault is mine.
Inhaling deeply, Mallory said, “Will you translate for me again, Lianor?”
“Of course.”
“Tell Brianca I’m the one to blame. Last night Apolonia found out I love to swim. I’m positive she thought I’d seen her, and that’s why she dared to venture past the curls. Ask Brianca if she was the one who called out Apolonia’s name to me.”
Lianor conveyed her wishes. Once Brianca understood what Mallory had been saying, she lifted her head and nodded.
“Remind her that she was the one who saved Apolonia’s life. I was so busy having a marvelous time out there, I would never have known what was happening if I hadn’t heard her screaming your niece’s name in a clear voice.”
More conversation ensued.
The teenager’s face brightened a little.
“Tell her we need to be thankful that everyone did their part. The ambulance came just in time and everything worked out. I know Apolonia’s going to be fine.”
Again Lianor translated, but the teen still didn’t seem totally convinced.
On impulse, Mallory hugged Brianca who hugged her back. They both shed a few more tears, then parted with smiles.
“Thank you,” Brianca said in English before darting back to the palace.
As she ran off, Lianor squeezed Mallory’s arm. “After receiving blame from everyone, especially from Ines who told my brother Brianca could be trusted, she needed your kindness. You’re a truly wonderful person, Mallory.”
“Please don’t give me any credit. The only thing of importance is that Apolonia’s alive. Where did the ambulance take her?”
“To the local hospital in Atalaia where Violente lives. It’s five kilometers from here.”
“I want to see her.”
“We’ll go after you’ve had breakfast and relaxed for a little while. I know you’re strong, but that was an emotional as well as physical ordeal you’ve just been through. I don’t want you passing out on me.”
They walked up the beach. Mallory picked up her sandals but didn’t bother to put them on. “There’s no chance of that happening; however I must admit I could use some tea.”
“Come on. Let’s go up to your room and take care of you.”
Side by side they hurried into the palace where Mallory took a shower and washed her hair. Since they were going to the hospital, she opted to wear a cotton blouse and matching wraparound skirt in a khaki tone.
When she entered the dining room and saw the amazing breakfast waiting for her, her appetite returned. Lianor was hungry too. They ate a little bit of everything including the sausage which had been cooked with green pepper, onion and a cheese sauce.
“Oh that’s good. No wonder it’s Apolonia’s favorite.”
Lianor’s eyes filmed over. “Thanks to you, she’ll be eating more of it, although she shouldn’t,” she added in a tremulous voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Apolonia has been putting on weight and looks like I did at her age, but Maria has never worried about things like that. Neither did my mother who fed us constantly. By the time I was seventeen, I was huge.”
“I was overweight in my early teens too, but then I shot up and that changed everything.”
“It didn’t happen that way for me.” As if she were embarrassed by the admission, she got up from the table. “How long do you think Apolonia will have to stay in the hospital?”
Lianor had changed the subject so fast, Mallory realised she’d just had a glimpse of the pain she hid from the world. Maybe one day she’d trust Mallory enough to tell her the rest.
“I have no idea. Every case is different. Maybe she’ll be home by tonight.”
“I hope so.”
Mallory eyed her with concern. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.” In truth she was anxious to see Apolonia for herself. There could be complications, but she hadn’t wanted to upset her friend further by discussing them.
“I’ll pack a bag for Apolonia and meet you at the car.”
Within fifteen minutes they’d reached the hospital in the peaceful little town surrounded by beaches. Though not big, the hospital was as modern and up to date as any in Los Angeles.
After learning that Apolonia had been transferred from the ER to a private room, they walked to the nursing station on the main floor where Lianor found out which room down the hall was her niece’s.
Mallory touched her arm. “You go in first. You and your brother need some time alone with her. I’ll wait in the lounge we passed.”
“Thanks. I won’t be long.”
Once she was on her own, Mallory walked the short distance to the waiting room where she saw a mother nursing her baby in one corner, an old couple sitting in another holding hands. Mallory smiled at everyone and sat down.
Tension kept her body from relaxing. Until she knew how Apolonia was faring, she wouldn’t have any peace. Not able to sit still, she got up and decided to take a walk outside. On the way to the exit she told the nurse at the desk she’d be right back.
The beautiful sunny day mocked the turmoil going on inside of her. Though she looked out on a calm ocean, all she saw was a pair of fathomless black eyes staring at her with a mixture of agony to think it might have claimed his daughter…and shock to think the woman he’d disliked without ever having met her, had plucked his Apolonia from its watery grasp in time to save her.
“Ms. Ellis?”
Mallory had heard that low, gravelly male voice earlier today. With heart pounding, she turned around.
She’d only noticed his eyes before.
Now she saw the whole man dressed in black swimming trunks and a blue T-shirt. He must have been planning to join his daughter in the surf when he’d heard she was in trouble.
Physically she saw nothing that nature could improve upon. His Mediterranean heritage gave him his olive skin. The arrangement of striking male features beneath vibrant black hair and brows created someone fascinating as well as unbelievingly appealing.
He had height and breadth in perfect proportion to his long powerful legs. Such an unforgettable face and strong, cut body could well inspire any artist to immortalize him on canvas.
To say he was an incredible-looking man would be an understatement.
“How’s your daughter?” she asked tremulously.
She heard the ragged breath he took. “Right now they’re giving Apolonia warmed fluids intravenously. So far she’s holding her own. The doctor says if she doesn’t develop additional symptoms in the next five hours, she’ll be able to go home.”
“That’s wonderful news!” she cried. Mallory couldn’t have been more thrilled if Apolonia were her own flesh and blood.
Those black eyes, eloquent with emotion, bore into hers. “You saved my daughter from drowning,” his voice shook. “How does one person thank another for the gift of life?”
Mallory could hardly breathe. “You just did,” she said in a quiet tone. “Would it help if I told you a lifeguard once saved my life when I was about Apolonia’s age and thought the ocean was my friend?”
His eyelids closed tightly for a moment. Perhaps he was thinking Mallory’s thoughts. That if she’d died, she wouldn’t have been here to save his daughter.
But Mallory knew that if she hadn’t come to Portugal, Apolonia wouldn’t have gotten into trouble in the first place.
“A big part of our thanks needs to go to Brianca. She screamed your daughter’s name loud enough for me to hear, and she kept screaming until she got my attention. That enabled me to return the favor the lifeguard did for me and my family by reaching Apolonia in time.”
His features hardened. “Another few seconds in that water and she would have drowned,” he whispered, still reliving the agony.
“But she didn’t,” Mallory said gently. “Seeing you like this, I now know what terror my parents must have experienced when the CPR didn’t seem to be working on me. I was their only child too.”
“Por Deus.” His dark head reared back in more anguish. “I told her I would swim with her this morning. But she left my room before I did because I received a call from one of my hotel managers in Cabo Espichel I had to take.
“I was still talking to him in my bedroom upstairs when one of the maids burst in and told me to come quick. By the time I reached the beach, you were already giving her CPR.” He paused. “I’ve only known pain like that once before…”
Mallory knew he was talking about his wife. If she could steer his mind away from the worst—
After a slight pause, “I met your daughter last night. She’s very precious.”
A visible tremor passed through his body. He cleared his throat. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you. When Lianor walked in the hospital room alone a few minutes ago, Apolonia begged me to come and find you.”
Mallory bowed her head. “Will the doctor allow her to have visitors yet?”
“Only if it’s the woman who restored my daughter to me. He feels it will aid in her recovery. So do I,” he said in a husky tone.
CHAPTER THREE
MALLORY felt Rafael’s hand on her waist, urging her forward. The touch was purely impersonal, but its warmth seeped through her body.
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Rebecca Winters
“Marriage was my daughter’s suggestion to this untenable situation,” Rafael said. His expression looked like thunder.
Mallory felt the point of that fiery dart penetrate her soul. But it meant Apolonia had found a way around her father’s objections and that salient truth flooded Mallory with happiness.
“You’ll have to pretend to be my wife in public and live in my suite so the staff don’t talk,” Rafael ground out.
“Unlike a wife, I plan to live my own life taking care of your daughter. I intend to let you live yours.”
Rafael tossed his head back. The man had been caught in a snare of his daughter’s making and he didn’t like it one bit.
“So when do you want our wedding to take place?”
Every woman has dreams—deep desires, all-consuming passions, or maybe just little everyday wishes! In this brand-new miniseries from Harlequin Romance® we’re delighted to present a series of fresh, lively and compelling stories by some of our most popular authors—all exploring the truth about what women really want.
Step into each heroine’s shoes as we get up close and personal with her most cherished dreams…big and small!
Is she a high-flying executive…but all she wants is a baby?
Has she met her ideal man? If only he wasn’t her new boss…
Is she about to marry, but is secretly in love with someone else?
Or does she simply long to be slimmer, more glamorous, with a whole new wardrobe?
Whatever she wants, each heroine finds happiness on her own terms—and unexpected romance along the way. And she’s about to discover whether Mr. Right is the answer to her dreams—or if he has a few questions of his own!
This month enjoy Rafael’s Convenient Proposal by Rebecca Winters.
And look out for more from our bestselling authors coming soon!
Rafael’s Convenient Proposal
Rebecca Winters
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ONE
“FOR those of you just joining the Jack Hendley Friday Night Live show broadcasting from New York, we have the gorgeous Ms. Mallory Ellis in studio with us this evening.”
The band played a little theme music and the audience clapped.
“If you have eyes in your head, you could be forgiven for thinking she’s a world-class supermodel or top box office movie star, but you’d be dead wrong. At twenty-nine years of age, Ms. Ellis has the distinction of being one of the youngest female executives ever featured in Financial Wizards of Wall Street.
“A top honors graduate in corporate law from Yale University, Ms. Ellis was snapped up by Windemere Cosmetics, a struggling Los Angeles based firm. In three short years under her guidance, the company not only has a new name, ‘Lady Windemere Cosmetics,’ it has also gone global. So far the profits keep rising which is good news for the employees who now own stock in the company.
“According to the magazine article, her undisputed genius lies in profit and loss savvy, but tonight we’re hoping she’ll reveal some of the secrets of her phenomenal success story.”
From far away, the audience couldn’t tell the TV host’s eyes glittered as he studied her. “According to a source close to you, you’re a woman who knows what women want, and you put women with the right credentials in charge. Did you always plan to be a big female tycoon?”
There was an edge to his question rather than a teasing tone. She’d seen him in action before. Jack Hendley was a male chauvinist who had fixed ideas about a woman’s place in life. That was all right with Mallory. A lot of insecure men had the same problem.
Coming on this show was the last thing she’d wanted to do. But when Liz Graffman, the seventy-year-old widow who owned Lady Windemere Cosmetics, received a call from the television network asking that its vice president fly to New York and be on the Jack Hendley show, Mallory couldn’t say no to Liz’s plea.
Lady Windemere Cosmetics would get the kind of exposure on his show you couldn’t buy at any price.
Over the last thirty-six months, Mallory’s relationship with Liz had become like that of a favorite great-aunt and niece. Surely Mallory could stand a half hour of being patronized by one of television’s longstanding night talk show hosts.
“A tycoon by definition implies someone who owns a company or many companies. I only work for one,” she corrected him with a friendly smile. He didn’t smile back which was no surprise since he could sense she was refusing to play ball with him.
“However to answer your question, when I was old enough to think about the world, there was only one thing that drove me; my insatiable love for surfing.”
His eyes flared because he hadn’t been expecting that response. “Where did you grow up?”
“Huntington Beach, California.”
“That explains it. Were you a good surfer?”
“I won a few western regional championships at Redondo Beach and Malibu.”
Several wolf whistles resounded along with the clapping from the listening audience.
“At this juncture I’m sure every eligible male watching would like to know if there’s a future Lord Windemere waiting in the wings somewhere.”
The man was so predictable she had to stifle a moan before she said, “No.”
“Does that mean—”
“It just means no,” she broke in on him with a purposely engaging smile that lit up her brilliant blue eyes. Mallory had done her share of dating. She loved men as much as the next woman, but she didn’t confuse her personal and professional life by getting too close to any one man. In fact she couldn’t see it happening in the foreseeable future. Maybe one day.
“So what happened to turn you from a surfer into a corporate attorney?”
She’d made him uncomfortable with her brief, unrevealing answers. Good. It was about time he’d asked her a question relevant to her being on the show in the first place.
“If I wasn’t surfing, I was reading beneath a beach umbrella. At an early age I became addicted to comic books. My father has a huge collection dating from the forties to the present which he treasures to this day. I must have read every one of them and particularly liked the stories about the Amazon women from Paradise Island with their secret powers.”
He turned to the audience. “Put her in one of those sexy little outfits, and she’d look just like them.” His remark provoked more whistles and cheers.
Mallory ignored the remark. When the din died down she said, “During the WWII years, the man who created that series once said that if women were given a little more time and the added strength they’d develop out of the war, they’d begin to control things in a serious way. When women ruled, there wouldn’t be any more war because the girls wouldn’t want to waste time killing men.”
Another loud burst of applause broke out.
“Needless to say, those comments found a resonant chord in me. From that moment on I decided I would be one of those women who would begin to control things in a serious way.”
By now most of the women were on their feet clapping while the band played some more theme music. When it finally subsided and they sat down again the host said, “So it’s true that since you’ve taken over the reins, Lady Windemere has become an all women-run company?”
Mallory nodded, then cocked her head. The unconscious gesture caused her long, glistening hair, the color of dark mink, to slide over one shoulder.
“That’s right. Women want to be beautiful for men, but they dress and put on makeup to pass a woman’s inspection. You’re married, Mr. Hendley. When your wife asks you if you like her in pink or red lipstick, what do you say?”
“That I like her no matter what she wears.”
“Exactly. You sound like a good husband who knows how to stay out of hot water. But you’re no help because you don’t want to offend her by giving her a wrong answer.
“The female managers and employees at Lady Windemere don’t have to be careful in the same way. They’ll tell a customer the truth and create a pallet of colors just for her to make her feel her most beautiful and confident. In the end she’ll buy more products and stay loyal to the brand for life.”
“In other words, I won’t be able to find a man to wait on me if I walk into one of your stores.”
Her remarks had gotten under his skin. She sat back in the chair resting her hands on the armrests.
“No.”
“Some might argue that you’re sexist.”
Mallory had been waiting for that salvo. She re-crossed her long elegant legs. “After taking a good look at Windemere, I saw what I thought needed doing in order to turn it into a promising business concern.
“If I were in the hierarchy of a company that didn’t cater exclusively to women, naturally the question of whether to employ males or females wouldn’t be a relevant issue.”
His brows lifted. “You mean you wouldn’t fire all the men and put a bunch of women in charge, say—if you headed a national auto parts chain that was going under?”
The man refused to let the subject go. Maybe that was why his ratings were slipping. Mallory was beginning to understand why the network was planning to install a woman co-host. They needed a feminine element to offset his sexist outlook on life.
“If it were in my power to hire and fire, I’d see who was productive and who wasn’t. Whether male or female, they’d be gone if they didn’t have the company’s best interest at heart.”
He sat back in his chair, eyeing her speculatively. “We only have a minute left before we have to go. I see a lot of hands in the audience.” He turned to them. “What’s your question?”
“How about a date after the show?” a half a dozen guys shouted.
Mallory had known better than to expect any questions about Lady Windemere cosmetics, not after the way the host had handled the program.
“Thank you, but my busy schedule won’t permit it,” she answered with another smile. “You’ve been such a great audience, I want you to have some samples of Lady Windemere products I brought with me. They’ll be outside the doors when you leave.”
While the audience cheered and clapped, she pulled a gift-wrapped package from her purse.
“This is for your wife, Mr. Hendley. Compliments of Lady Windemere.” Actually it was from Liz who’d placed a personal note inside.
“I’m sure she’ll enjoy your products. Thank you.” He put it to one side. “Before we sign off, can you tell the audience what your plans are after you leave New York?”
“Yes. I’m on my way to Europe to visit our newest store in Lisbon.”
“So it’s business as usual. Did you pick up a degree in Portuguese while you were at Yale too?”
His condescension bored her.
“Don’t I wish. Fortunately for me the new manager communicates in excellent English and Spanish as well as her native tongue.”
He turned to the band and started speaking Spanish to one of the Hispanic members, supposedly to impress his audience, but Mallory’s thoughts were on the new manager she was going to visit, Lianor D’Afonso.
The Portuguese woman exemplified the company’s top female executives abroad who were intelligent, sophisticated, lovely, feminine and possessed great business sense.
During the three week training session in Los Angeles where six European managers had come together, Mallory had felt a particular fondness for the single, twenty-nine-year-old Lianor.
When they weren’t working, Mallory had taken her to many of the tourist sites. They’d discovered that they had a lot in common and agreed on many things.
Mallory had grown up an only child, but if she could have had a sister, she would have wanted someone as delightful as Lianor.
It had been almost four months since the training session had ended. Mallory had to admit she was looking forward to seeing Lianor who’d be meeting her plane tomorrow evening.
“We’re out of time folks,” Jack Hendley said, switching back to English to regain Mallory’s attention. “It’s been a real treat to have you on the show, Ms. Ellis.”
Naturally he didn’t ask her to come back again. She hadn’t been any fun.
“Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Hendley.” She shook hands with him and stood up.
As she left the stage to a round of applause and more wolf whistles, she could hear his mind saying, “Why don’t you go on home and find yourself a man. It’ll make a real woman out of you, honey.”
Mallory had heard it all many times before.
Relieved the show was over and she could get back to normal, she left the studio. A cab came along to take her to her hotel. She’d been working nonstop for a long time and was looking forward to a change of pace the short trip to Portugal would provide.
Rafael D’Afonso grimaced when he realized the new Lady Windemere cosmetics boutique on the rua Da Plata appeared to be thriving.
It was June. By now he’d hoped the American-based company where his sister had been installed as manager would have been forced to close its doors. She would have had no option but to look for another job. Maybe then he could have talked her into giving up her Lisbon apartment and coming back home.
Unfortunately his hopes on that score were dashed last week by an offhand comment she’d made about the first quarter’s earnings being even higher than the home company had projected.
She loved her new job and wasn’t about to give it up.
Since their parents’ death twelve years ago, he’d been watching out for his strong-willed sister who’d already turned down several marriage proposals. If she immersed herself in business much longer, she would miss out on the most important role of her life—becoming a wife.
Lianor was already twenty-nine, six years younger than he was. Time was running out for her. One day soon she would mourn the fact that she had no husband, no children. He refused to let the scars from her past ruin the rest of her life.
Though Rafael was weighted down by bad news that hadn’t fully sunk in yet, he decided now was the perfect time to use it as leverage to force her to come home and embrace the life she was meant to live. All he wanted was her happiness.
As he entered the boutique located in Lisbon’s Chiado district, their gazes met. She was still helping a customer. Her other two employees were both busy as well. Taking a deep breath to curb his impatience, he headed for her private office. He would wait for her no matter how long it took.
To his relief she joined him within a couple of minutes. He put his cell phone away and hugged her. After she’d sat down behind her desk she smiled, looking supremely pleased with herself.
“Take a chair, brother dear. You’re prowling like a hungry wolf. What’s put that grave look on your face?”
He remained standing. “There’s no easy way to say this. As you know, Maria has experienced unbearable stomach pain lately. She finally went to the doctor and was diagnosed with cancer. She’s in the very last stages. He said she won’t be leaving the hospital.”
“Oh no—” Lianor cried. In the next instant she’d leaped from the chair and had thrown her arms around him again, dissolved in tears. “The poor thing. What about Apolonia? Does she know yet?”
“No.” He’d left his ten-year-old daughter playing with a friend. His housekeeper, Ines, was watching them. “It’s going to come as a tremendous shock.”
“I can’t believe it. Maria’s too young. I thought she’d be with you until Apolonia was all grown up.”
“So did I,” he muttered.
“This is awful,” she lamented.
It was. Since his wife, Isabell, had died of pneumonia within weeks of giving birth, sixty-two-year-old Maria who’d been a maid in Isabell’s parents’ home, had taken on the role of surrogate grandmother to Apolonia.
Lately his daughter had grown quiet and seemed moody which was not her normal nature. No doubt her worry over Maria, who hadn’t been able to hide her discomfort from the family for several months now, was at the root of her uncharacteristic behavior.
He feared that when Apolonia heard that the only mother-type figure she’d ever known was on the verge of death, his daughter wouldn’t be able to handle it without Lianor being there to take her place.
“That’s why I came here instead of phoning you. I want you to come home with me and we’ll tell her together tonight.”
She pulled out of his arms, wiping her eyes. “I’m sorry, Rafael, but I’m afraid I can’t.”
He blinked in shock. “Why? What’s more important?”
“The vice president of the company is flying in from New York. I have to pick her up at the airport in two hours.”
“You mean the notorious Lady Windemere?”
His sister looked wounded. “I’m sorry that her being a brilliant woman lauded by Wall Street makes you see her in such an unfavorable light, Rafael.”
“How else can a man view a woman who’s hard as nails, as the Americans say.”
“You’re wrong about her, you know. She’s not the owner, and she’s not Lady Windemere. For your information it’s the name she gave the company to revitalize and romanticize it. The rising profits are the proof of her business acumen.
“Her name is Mallory Ellis. And I’m asking you not to speak about her in such a derogatory way again.”
He couldn’t help it.
Mallory. Even her name sounded too masculine to his ear. There was nothing soft about Lianor’s new idol. The idea of his sister spending any more time with some hard-boiled female powerhouse who eschewed marriage and family was anathema to him.
“How long is she going to be here?” his voice grated.
“Tonight through tomorrow night. She’ll fly home the following day.”
Rafael swore under his breath.
She put a placating hand on his arm. “Look—don’t say anything to Apolonia for a couple of more days. I promise I’ll come home as soon as Mallory has flown back to the States.”
He fought to tamp down his frustration. “It doesn’t look like I have any choice. Where’s this American paragon going to stay while she’s here?”
“At my apartment.”
“No, Lianor, you can’t do that.”
“She has become a friend, Rafael. While I was in California she went out of her way to show me one of the most wonderful times of my life. We stayed overnight at her parents’ house and they were nothing but gracious to me.”
Rafael had no idea all that had gone on while she’d been out of the country.
“I’m certainly not going to let her go to some sterile hotel room. Besides, you always wine and dine your friends and business associates at home.”
“I happen to live at our family’s pousada which makes it convenient to entertain guests.”
His sister eyed him frankly. “Taking her home would have been my first choice, but knowing how you feel about my job, I thought it best to stay away.”
“It’s your home too,” he averred forcefully. After a pause, “Bring her there tonight.” He decided he wanted to meet this dangerous stranger who’d become friendly with his sister so quickly. “I’ll arrange for a room.”
“This is very important to me, Rafael. Will you give her the Alfama suite?”
The Alfama? His first inclination was to remind her that he reserved the best suite in the palacio for heads of state and royalty. But he caught himself in time.
“I’m prepared to do that favor for you…provided you do one for me later.”
“Of course.”
He eyed his sister through veiled eyes. She had no idea what she’d just agreed to. “I’ll inform Vaz she’ll be staying there for two nights.”
“Thank you,” she whispered before kissing his cheek. “I love you. I know you’re worried sick about Apolonia’s reaction. Over the next few days I’ll try and think of someone who could take Maria’s place.”
“I already have the perfect person in mind,” he murmured, “but we’ll talk about it when I can have your undivided attention.”
After giving her another hug, he left her office in a better mood than when he’d arrived. Apolonia and Lianor adored each other. His sister wouldn’t be able to turn him down when he asked her to take over Maria’s role.
It would bring Lianor back into their world of mutual friends and men. To make certain she said yes, he would visit Maria in the hospital here in Lisbon right now and tell her Lianor had agreed to be there full-time for Apolonia. That would calm Maria’s fears.
As for Lianor, when she went to see Maria, the older woman would thank her for doing her duty as Apolonia’s loving aunt, that is if she could still communicate. Lianor wouldn’t have the heart to argue with a dying woman.
His sister didn’t know it yet, but she needed his daughter as much as Apolonia needed her.
Driving into the city from the airport, Mallory thought she’d never seen anything as romantic as Lisbon against a twilight sky. Draped over seven hills with the Tagus river flowing through, the sight enchanted her. She said as much to Lianor who’d picked her up outside the terminal in a silver Jaguar.
The other woman nodded. “If you think this is beautiful, wait till you see my family’s home overlooking the Atlantic. That’s where you’ll be staying while you’re here. It’s just a half hour from Lisbon on the Estoril coast with its own private beach.”
“It sounds heavenly.”
“Do you want to stop for something to eat first?”
“Thank you for offering, but they served a meal on the plane before we landed. I’m still full.”
“If you’re sure.”
“Positive. Right now I just want to absorb everything.”
“That’s how I felt when I flew to Los Angeles for the training session. After it was over and you took me to the airport, I couldn’t resist spending a few days in San Francisco. The plane landed at about this same time of night. For a moment I thought I’d returned to Lisbon because the two cities reminded me of each other.”
“Me too,” Mallory murmured, “but Lisbon is ancient. That’s what makes it so fascinating. Judging by the success of your first quarter earnings, putting the shop in the medieval part of the city was the right decision.”
“I know it was. We’re always busy, and getting busier.”
“That’ll be music to Liz’s ears. She and I discussed the store’s location with the marketing and sales departments at length. I’m glad the company decided to take the risk, and I’m particularly glad they hired you.”
“I’m the one who’s thrilled.”
Mallory found herself warming more and more to Lianor. In fact the whole Windemere staff had taken to her. Several of them had even commented that from a distance, she and Mallory looked like they could be sisters with their tall, curvaceous figures and long dark hair.
But upon closer inspection, Lianor’s olive skin and dramatic brown eyes were in direct contrast to Mallory who’d inherited a peaches-and-cream complexion from her mother. Still, the observation had pleased both of them.
“Loving your work is a blessing, Lianor. Not everyone does. Without the right manager that store wouldn’t be doing as well, and certainly not this soon. Liz has arranged for you to receive a bonus in your next paycheck for all your hard work.”
Lianor beamed before whispering her thanks. “When my brother first heard I’d been hired to manage a cosmetic shop on the rua Da Plata, he warned me I’d be out of a job in a few months because it would fold in the old district. Instead the locals and tourists flock to it.”
Mallory’s eyes danced. “From what you’ve told me, your brother is one of the most successful businessmen in the country. But because he’s a man, he doesn’t understand that a woman will stop whatever she’s doing long enough to try out new cosmetics.”
Her friend nodded. “Rafael’s wife, Isabell, the one I told you about who died ten years ago, was a natural beauty. She rarely used makeup or lipstick around him because he didn’t like it. He says all men prefer women au naturel, so he discounts its importance.”
“But he can’t discount the earnings of your shop now, can he.”
Again her friend grinned. “No, and it’s killing him to admit it.”
“In that case, it might be interesting for him to see the results of our marketing department’s studies done among men throughout Europe. I brought a chart with me. The Portuguese statistics, particularly, would be very illuminating if he ever took the time to look at them.”
“Tell me!” Lianor cried like a co-conspirator.
Mallory brushed the hair away from her cheek, getting caught up in the excitement with her. “Only twenty-one percent of Portuguese men prefer their women without lipstick.”
“I knew it!” her companion blurted.
“The other seventy-nine percent is divided; twenty-eight percent love their women in shocking pink lipstick, followed by seventeen percent who love lip gloss. Sixteen percent like pale pink and the softer shades. Ten percent prefer red, and seven percent like beige or brown.”
Laughter broke out on Lianor’s lips. “Rafael’s forte is marketing. As he says, ‘It’s all in the figures.”’
“He’s right. They don’t lie.”
“I can’t wait to show him that chart, but I’m afraid it will only upset him more.”
“Why? Surely he wants you to succeed!”
“It isn’t that. He’s been unhappy ever since I was hired.”
This was the first Mallory had heard of it. “I don’t understand. After college you worked in the marketing division of a large department store several years before joining the company.”
“That’s true, but I wasn’t the manager.”
“With your talents and background, you should have been,” Mallory stated emphatically. “What is it about your being in charge that bothers him so much?”
“That’s not the problem. Simply put, he wants me to get married, settle down and raise a family. You’d have to be a younger sister and Portuguese to understand. It’s a male thing here. He’s my older brother and protective and—”
“Say no more,” Mallory broke in. “I’ve met his type before. They’re alive and well in America too. You would know what I meant if you could have watched the television talk show I was on last night.” She proceeded to tell Lianor about her experience with Jack Hendley.
Lianor nodded. “Sounds like Rafael. He’s afraid I’ll never meet a man as long as I’m running a store, let alone one that sells women’s products. What he doesn’t realize is, I could go out every night of the week, and still not come across a man who truly interests me.”
“My sentiments exactly.” Mallory flashed her a compassionate glance. “In order to placate your brother, you might remind him that part of our new advertising campaign is geared to reaching the male population—that group looking for a special personal gift for his wife, girlfriend, or mother.
“Knowing what the Portuguese men want, the company is prepared to cater to their individual tastes. Assure him you’ll be meeting a lot of male customers as time goes by.”
“Unfortunately Rafael wants that miracle to happen now. Tonight!”
They both broke into laughter.
“It sounds like he loves you a lot,” Mallory observed.
“He does, and it’s mutual.”
Mallory already knew that. No matter the topic of conversation, since she’d first met Lianor, her brother’s name always managed to creep into the conversation.
Lianor flicked her another glance. “Your father was so nice and laid-back. Does he ever get upset because you’re not married yet?”
“Maybe,” Mallory murmured honestly, “but neither he nor mom has ever said anything. It’s probably because they didn’t marry until their early thirties. They don’t want to come off sounding like hypocrites.”
“My mother was just nineteen when she married my father. Rafael proposed to Isabell when she was only twenty.”
Rafael again. “What do you think’s the reason he hasn’t remarried?”
Her companion let out a deep sigh. “It isn’t for a lack of women! Most of the time I’m appalled at the lengths they go to in order to capture my brother’s attention. But the plain truth is, he loved Isabell so much, it almost killed him when she died. Since then he’s been devoted to Apolonia, and has buried himself in work.”
Apolonia. The niece with the beautiful name.
“Maybe you need to get busy and find him someone he could love. You know him better than anyone else. If he married again, he might not be quite as concerned about your single status.”
“Don’t count on it,” Lianor muttered. “However you’ve given me an idea to solve a problem that’s been plaguing me since he came to the store earlier today with bad news. It has shaken me for several reasons.”
The unexpected emotional throb in Lianor’s voice alerted Mallory that whatever was on her mind was serious. “Do you want to talk about it?” she ventured quietly.
“I shouldn’t have brought it up, but you’re too good a listener.”
“I feel the same way about you. Why do you think I came to Portugal?”
Lianor’s head jerked around for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“You’re running the store so well, I didn’t really need to come. But since I was already in New York, it seemed the perfect opportunity to take you up on your offer to visit.”
“I’m glad you did, Mallory.”
“So am I.”
“Tomorrow’s Sunday and the shop will be closed. I’ll take you sight-seeing. Give yourself a couple of weeks here and we’ll be able to cover the whole city on foot if you want.”
“Oh I want,” she assured the other woman. “If only I could take two weeks off to do nothing but soak up the atmosphere. Nevertheless tomorrow I’m hoping to sleep in and then lie on the beach. I haven’t had a real holiday since I went to work for Liz.”
“That’s too long to go without,” Lianor chastised her, in the nicest possible way of course.
Mallory’s mouth turned up at the corners. “Now that we have that settled, tell me about your brother’s bad news.”
In a few minutes she’d put Mallory in the picture.
“Maria’s virtually irreplaceable,” Lianor confided further. “We all love her, and Rafael has depended on her so totally, I’m worried. Of course he has Ines, his housekeeper. He can rely on her to help him with my niece, but it’s only a temporary solution.
“I have to face the fact that word of Maria’s fatal illness changed his whole world today. As for Apolonia, the loss will be devastating when she finds out Maria isn’t coming back.”
Mallory could only agree.
“My closest girlfriend from childhood has recently come out of an ugly divorce from her Spanish husband. She’s back from Madrid and needs something to absorb her time right now. Rafael has always known Joana and liked her. So has Apolonia. I’m thinking if she came to help, it would be good for all three of them.”
“You could be right,” Mallory said. “Given time, they might even fall in love. How nice would that be. Your best friend becoming your sister-in-law.”
“Don’t think I didn’t used to fantasize about it. However that was a long time ago, before Rafael fell for Isabell and dashed both our dreams.”
“You mean yours and Joana’s.”
“Yes. She was crazy about my brother.”
Somehow that news didn’t surprise Mallory, not if he was as remarkable as Lianor—in all the ways that really counted.
At this point they’d reached the coast, a breathtaking sight this time of night. The smell of the ocean intoxicated her. Waves crashed against the sand, creating froth that stood out in the darkness. She could hear the pounding surf, that familiar sound she craved almost as much as she craved air to breathe. She didn’t know how much she’d missed it until now.
They rounded a curve on the winding highway. Suddenly she let out a cry. There was a baroque palace on a cliff in the distance, lit up as if it hung in the sky. “I can’t believe what I’m seeing is real,” she whispered. “What’s the name of it, Lianor?”
“Rafael and I call it home, but the tourists know it as the Palacio D’Afonso.”
Speechless, Mallory’s head turned, unable to do anything but stare at her friend.
“It was one of several small palaces built by King Pedro the Second of Portugal. Some historians claim he had it built and named it in honor of his brother King Afonso who was paralyzed and died at the age of eleven. Others say he built it out of guilt after deposing Afonso and exiling him to the Azores while Pedro was acting regent.”
“Ooh—that doesn’t sound good.”
Lianor chuckled. “By the time my great-grandfather inherited it, the cost of keeping it up forced the family to turn it into a hotel so it wouldn’t pass from the D’Afonso line. Historians still argue whether it began through one of Pedro’s illicit liaisons with a courtesan. We’ll never know for sure.
“After our parents died at sea, Rafael was the one who made it into the prosperous resort it is today. Because of his genius, our family now owns half a dozen small castles and palaces in various parts of the country which have been converted into tourist resorts we call pousadas.”
To the average onlooker, the D’Afonso family would seem to be living a fairy-tale existence. But like all human beings, they had their own share of private tragedies to deal with.
“Did you ever ask your brother if you could manage one of them?” Mallory couldn’t help asking.
“No. I’ve always wanted to do my own thing.”
“We’re kindred spirits, Lianor.”
“I know. That’s what’s got Rafael worried.”
“Now you’re making me nervous.”
“Please don’t be. I’ll have you know he has made arrangements for you to stay in the best suite. Just last week it was occupied by the President of Mexico and his wife.”
Mallory shook her head. “I don’t want or need special treatment.”
“Maybe not, but you’re going to get it. I know how hard you’ve worked since law school. It’s time for you to be pampered, so sit back and enjoy it.”
A chuckle escaped Mallory’s throat. “When you put it like that…”
“Thank you for not arguing with me. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
CHAPTER TWO
“INES?”
Rafael walked in the family’s private entrance at the north end of the palacio. He headed for the kitchen, grim-faced.
“I’m here. How is Maria tonight?” she called back to him as he pushed open the double doors.
“She’s deteriorating fast.”
Ines’ eyes watered. “Apolonia is missing her already.”
“Where is she?”
“She and Violente went into the other part of the palacio to look for some postcards while they waited for Violente’s father to pick her up in reception. I told Apolonia she had to be back in a half hour.”
He took a steadying breath. “Now that school is out, I don’t like the idea of adding to your burdens by asking you to take full-time care of her.” Ines was in her early seventies and slowing down. “Which one of the maids do you trust to watch her for a few hours each day to help you out?”
“Either Nina or Brianca.”
Rafael rubbed his jaw and felt the rasp. “Isn’t Brianca a little young?”
“She’s eighteen, but she’s very responsible and she likes Apolonia. It would be good for your daughter to have someone who will play with her.”
Ines was right about that.
“Will you talk to Brianca then?”
“First thing in the morning.”
“Good. Tell her I’ll make it worth her while financially until Lianor is prepared to take over.”
“She has agreed?” his housekeeper cried out with joy, putting her palms together beneath her chin.
“Not in so many words yet, but she will,” he vowed with such ferocity, Ines blinked. “Don’t say anything about Maria or Lianor yet. I don’t want her to know what’s happening until I’m forced to tell her Maria won’t be coming home again.”
“Claro,” the older woman said before turning away, sniffing.
He checked his watch. Lianor ought to be arriving with her guest anytime now. “I need to make some phone calls, then I’ll go find Apolonia. Thanks for all your help, Ines. Boa noite.”
“Boa noite, Rafael.”
The Palacio D’Afonso proved to be a masterpiece of baroque and Moorish architecture mixed together. Mallory heard Lianor call to her, but she was too busy drinking in everything to talk.
Checkered marble paved the floor and ornate staircase of the enormous entrance hall. She lifted her head to take in the beauty of its lofty dome exquisitely painted with flowers and birds. Between the rich decorative art and paintings on the walls, she stood there spellbound.
“Wander around to your heart’s content,” Lianor said. “Your suitcase has been taken upstairs. Give me a minute to make certain your room is ready. I’ll be right back.”
“This palace is so magnificent, I’m speechless,” Mallory murmured. “You don’t have to hurry on my account,” she added with a smile. “I might just stay here indefinitely.”
“Wait till you see where you’re going to sleep tonight.” Lianor left her with that provocative thought before she started up the staircase where several elegantly dressed hotel guests were just descending.
The couple disappeared through one of four sets of tall double doors to the left of them. Mallory caught a glimpse of a sumptuous-looking dining room and sucked in her breath.
What a fantastic place to be raised! And paradise to have the Atlantic at your feet too?
Still mesmerized by such splendor, she didn’t realize anyone else had entered the massive foyer until she heard a girl’s voice cry, “Tia Lianor!”
Mallory turned around to discover two dark-haired girls around ten or eleven who’d come through double doors on the opposite side of the great hall. Behind them she saw a room with a counter and several people working. For a front desk, it had been cleverly hidden.
The girl who was staring at Mallory with brown eyes identical to Lianor’s made a funny sound and put a hand to her mouth. The other girl holding something in her hand started to giggle.
“Are you Apolonia?”
The girl hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
“Do you speak English?” Mallory asked, drawing closer to them.
“Yes.”
“I’ve heard lovely things about you from your Tia Lianor.”
That brought a smile to the girl’s face.
“She’ll be down in a minute. My name is Mallory Ellis.” She extended her hand.
“How do you do,” Apolonia said in very proper English and shook it. Some flicker of recognition caused her features to become even more expressive. “You are her friend from California in America.”
Friend. That was nice to hear.
“Yes. I’ve come to visit her for a couple of days. When you saw me from the back, you thought I was your aunt, didn’t you?” Both Mallory and Lianor happened to be wearing black pantsuits.
She nodded.
“Other people have said the same thing. Who’s your friend?”
“Oh—” she cried, as if suddenly remembering her manners. “This is my best friend, Violente Camoes. We’re waiting for her father.”
Mallory grasped the other girl’s hand that wasn’t full of postcards. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Violente. I love your name.”
“She does not like it,” Apolonia confided. “Her brother says she was named after Queen Maria the First of Portugal. The servants called her Violente because she was insano.”
“Insane?”
“Yes.”
Trying to smother her laughter, Mallory said, “What’s your brother’s name, Violente?”
“Tomas.”
“Ah—that explains it!”
“What do you mean?” Apolonia asked while both girls stared at her wide-eyed.
“Her brother is just jealous because he wasn’t named after a king.”
Apolonia turned to her friend and translated in Portuguese. Her friend’s mouth broke into a wide smile. She whispered something back in Portuguese to Apolonia.
Mallory couldn’t help but marvel at her grasp of English. Not only had she benefited from the English-speaking tourists who stayed here, according to Lianor her niece went to the same private school she’d once attended. It was run by the nuns. No wonder their family was so well educated.
“Violente thinks you’re very nice. I do too.”
“Well thank you. I feel the same way about both of you.”
“My father said you are notarus.”
Mallory blinked. “Do you mean notorious?”
“Yes. I don’t know that word.”
She choked down more laughter. Wait till she told Lianor. “I think he got it mixed up with the word industrious. It means I like to work and use my brain.” She tapped the side of her head so the girls would understand.
“But he frowned like this when he said it,” she informed her before doing a great imitation of one.
“Violente?”
At the sound of a male voice, all three of them turned in time to see a well-dressed man around forty enter the foyer. He signaled for his daughter to come. She waved goodbye to them, then ran toward him.
No sooner had they left the foyer than Lianor appeared on the stairs. Apolonia rushed toward her aunt and started talking in rapid Portuguese.
“Why don’t you speak English in front of our guest. It will be good practice for you.”
“She already has. Very beautifully I might add,” Mallory said after catching up with them. “In fact I found out something quite interesting.”
Quickly she related her exchange with Apolonia. Lianor fought not to laugh in front of her niece. “Your father’s English is excellent, Apolonia, but sometimes even he makes mistakes.”
Mallory’s gaze rested on the girl. “I can’t imagine being able to speak fluent Portuguese when I was your age. You have superior intelligence just like your aunt.”
Her sweet face lit up. “Thank you.”
“Come with us,” Lianor urged. “We’ll show you to your room.”
Mallory followed them to the second floor. The staircase curved around, giving out on a corridor that ran the length of the palace. In between paintings and tapestries, she glimpsed double doors to the various rooms.
They passed another exquisitely shaped marble staircase before reaching a pair of double doors facing them at the south end. They looked massive and impregnable.
Behind them was another set of doors. Above those she saw an inscription set in the colorful azulejo tiles for which Portugal was famous.
“What does it say?”
“Our lips easily meet high across the narrow street. It’s a saying of the poet Frederico de Brito who wrote about the Alfama district of Lisbon where the streets between the houses are only four feet wide. The people on opposite sides can reach out of their homes and touch each other.”
Lianor rolled her eyes. “Someone in the D’Afonso family who had romantic notions put it there. Most likely it was a man who wanted to remind his wife of her marital duty,” she muttered sotto voce.
“No doubt,” Mallory concurred with a grin. She looked down at Apolonia who couldn’t quite follow their whole conversation. Wanting to include her she said, “Why are there two sets of double doors?”
“This is where the king stayed. He kept soldiers by both doors.”
“If we’re talking about Pedro II, I can see why,” Mallory murmured. “The man must have had some serious enemies.”
Lianor’s eyes met hers and they both chuckled. But Mallory’s laughter ceased the moment she stepped inside the suite and got her first look at the royal apartment which was really a small palace within a palace.
The melange of Muslim, Arabic, Visigoth and Moorish accoutrements filling the huge rooms defied description.
Both D’Afonsos took her on the grand tour which included a living room with a priceless Moorish tile floor put down in bands of blue and white that undulated like the rolling waves across an ocean. Dark crisscrossed beams defined the painted ceiling of flowers and angels.
There was a library worth a king’s ransom, a delightful airy music room with an antique piano, a sitting room, another bedroom, a kitchen and dining room which faced west and opened on to a private balcony that overlooked the ocean.
Lianor had to drag Mallory away from the view in order to show her the superb bedroom with its giant canopied bed and private balcony. It gave out on an unparalleled vista of the beach and ocean to the southwest. The constant crash of waves upon the sand far below set the rhythm of her heart. She felt enchanted.
Throwing back her head, she stood there breathing in the sea air while her long hair swished around her in the night breeze.
“Do you like it?” Apolonia asked.
Almost too enthralled to speak, she finally answered the girl’s question.
“I love it so much, I think I shall sleep out here tonight in that lounger next to the table and dream.”
“What will you dream about?
“Portuguese navigators who bravely set sail across the ocean to explore new worlds.”
Apolonia looked delighted with that answer. “I love the ocean too.”
“Living here, how could you not?”
“Do you like to swim?”
“It’s my favorite sport.”
“Mine too. My father taught me.”
“Speaking of your father,” Lianor broke in, “I bet he’s looking for you.”
She shook her head. “He went to see Maria in the hospital. I hope he says she can come home tomorrow.”
A signal of distress passed from Lianor to Mallory.
“I’m sure he’s back by now so you can ask him. It’s getting late and I think everyone’s tired, especially Mallory. She’s flown all the way from New York.”
She put her arm around her niece’s shoulders. “Let’s go to bed, shall we?”
The three of them walked to the first set of doors. Lianor turned to Mallory. “What time do you want breakfast served in here?”
Knowing it wouldn’t do any good to tell her not to go to the trouble she said, “How about ten o’clock after my morning swim? But only if you and Apolonia join me.”
“We’ll be here.”
Apolonia looked up at her. “Do you like salsicha?”
“It’s Portuguese sausage,” Lianor supplied.
“Is that your favorite?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll definitely try it. Good night, Apolonia.” They hugged again. What a wonderful girl she was. If Mallory had a daughter, she’d want her to be exactly like Lianor’s niece.
“Good night.”
“See you tomorrow,” Lianor whispered.
Mallory nodded. “Thank you for everything.”
“You’re welcome.”
She closed the doors after them. When she turned around, she felt like she’d been magically transported back in time. Phoenicians, Greeks, Romans, Moors had occupied this land. It was from these shores Vasco de Gama had set out on his voyage. Shivers of excitement raced through her body.
After she’d prepared for bed and left a voice message on her parents’ phone to let them know she’d arrived safely, she walked out on the balcony with a pillow and blanket.
Mallory hadn’t intended to sleep out there all night. But when she heard the sound of gulls and opened her eyes, light filled the sky and was burning off the morning mist. It looked like it was going to be a beautiful day.
She went inside and made hot chocolate, then took the colorful ceramic mug and walked back to the balcony where she watched the ocean for at least an hour. Every now and again she saw a ship in the far distance.
From her vantage point, the swells looked mild this morning. There were two curls of waves that broke some distance from the shore.
A few guests were already swimming, but they stayed close in. Several palace employees were arranging loungers, towels and umbrellas. The sandy beach was starting to show signs of life as more guests appeared. Mallory could hardly wait to get out there herself. She had time. Breakfast wouldn’t be for another forty-five minutes.
Before leaving her condo in Los Angeles, she’d packed her ancient one-piece yellow and orange suit she always wore for surfing. She’d also brought a pair of sandals she wore on the beach. Once she was ready, she hurried out of the room and used the closest staircase to reach the ground floor.
“Bom Dia.” A male palace employee opened the doors for her so she could go outside.
“Bom Dia,” she answered. “Thank you.”
The ocean was calling to her. After negotiating more steps down to the pristine beach, she stopped by the nearest lounger, deposited her sandals and ran into the water.
It was warmer than the ocean at Huntington Beach this time of day. Lianor had referred to this area as the Sun Coast where you could swim year-round.
This was heaven!
Mallory used the momentum from the fairly strong rip current to reach the curls quickly. In the late afternoon she would ask for a surfboard and come out again when the waves were bigger. Right now they were perfect for body surfing.
Once she got way out, she had so much fun she lost track of time. It wasn’t until she was waiting for one final wave before going back to the palacio that she heard people shouting. The sounds of terrified voices made her suddenly aware of her surroundings.
There were at least twenty people gathered near the water. Amid all the noise she heard someone crying out Apolonia’s name over and over again hysterically.
Oh no…
Mallory started swimming parallel to the shore, cleaving the water as fast as she could in the direction they were pointing. Several swimmers were making an attempt to get beyond the first curl, but they weren’t strong enough.
A little further now she could see Apolonia who’d somehow made it past both curls, but she must have grown tired.
Her head was back, mouth open. Those little arms were extended, making downward motions in the water. She was drowning!
Please God. Don’t let it happen.
In a few more strokes Mallory executed a deep dive under Apolonia, then came up behind her and put her hand under her chin.
“I’m here, darling. Lie still and let me do the work. Your father wouldn’t want to go on living without you. I’ll get you back to him,” she promised.
Using the rescue side stroke, Mallory headed for shore with her precious cargo, praying all the way.
The crowd gathered round as she pulled the girl’s limp body onto the beach and turned her on her side to get any water out of her lungs.
Though she felt a pulse, waves of fear washed over Mallory to realize Apolonia wasn’t breathing. In an instant she put the girl on her back and immediately began mouth to mouth resuscitation.
Keep calm, Mallory. Pace yourself. Fifteen compressions, two ventilations. Fifteen compressions, two ventilations.
Time had no meaning as she settled down to perform this procedure for as long as it took. She’d only rescued one other person when she’d been out surfing. It was an adult who’d gotten in trouble, but after she’d reached the beach with him, he’d started breathing right away.
This was much different. Apolonia had been struggling too long. She had to live. There’d been enough tragedy in their household. She was exceptional. Her family needed her.
Let her live.
When Mallory had all but lost hope, she heard sputtering and quickly rolled Apolonia on her side to get rid of more water.
“Papa,” the girl half moaned her father’s name.
Mallory’s heart rejoiced.
“I’m right here, querida,” came a deep masculine voice so full of love and emotion, Mallory’s eyes flooded with tears.
“We’ll take over now,” another voice sounded.
With exquisite relief, Mallory sat back on her heels to let the paramedics deal with Apolonia. Over the shoulders of one of them, her eyes met another pair of eyes. Intensely black and moist. They stared at her incredulously before the man got to his feet.
It had only been a fleeting moment of contact, yet she felt a trembling in her soul even after he’d followed the stretcher into the ambulance and it had driven off.
Lianor knelt down and wrapped her arms around Mallory, sobbing quietly as she poured out her gratitude. They stayed in that position until Mallory stopped trembling.
When they both finally got to their feet, an older woman standing nearby made the sign of the cross and kept murmuring something Mallory didn’t understand. Lianor introduced them.
“This is our housekeeper, Ines. She’s saying ‘Bless you.”’
Mallory swallowed hard. “Tell Ines that God helped me.”
After hearing the translation, the older woman’s eyes filled with tears. They spilled down her pale cheeks.
The dozen or so sober-faced staff hovering next to the housekeeper said the same words, ‘Bless you,’ before they dispersed and got back to their duties. Ines followed them inside the palace.
Before resuming their various pleasures, the guests who’d been out on the beach congregated around Mallory and praised her in several languages for her heroic rescue.
That left one young woman in a bikini who looked to be in her late teens. She stood there with her face in her hands, weeping. Lianor went over and put her arm around her shoulders to comfort her.
“This is Brianca, Mallory. Just this morning Ines asked her to keep an eye on Apolonia until we had breakfast. They came down to swim. When my niece saw you body surfing, she wanted to do it too and slipped away before Brianca could stop her.
“The lifeguard doesn’t come on duty until eleven o’clock, and Apolonia knows better than to go swimming without Rafael. As you can see, Brianca is devastated. I’ve tried to tell her it’s not her fault.”
No. The fault is mine.
Inhaling deeply, Mallory said, “Will you translate for me again, Lianor?”
“Of course.”
“Tell Brianca I’m the one to blame. Last night Apolonia found out I love to swim. I’m positive she thought I’d seen her, and that’s why she dared to venture past the curls. Ask Brianca if she was the one who called out Apolonia’s name to me.”
Lianor conveyed her wishes. Once Brianca understood what Mallory had been saying, she lifted her head and nodded.
“Remind her that she was the one who saved Apolonia’s life. I was so busy having a marvelous time out there, I would never have known what was happening if I hadn’t heard her screaming your niece’s name in a clear voice.”
More conversation ensued.
The teenager’s face brightened a little.
“Tell her we need to be thankful that everyone did their part. The ambulance came just in time and everything worked out. I know Apolonia’s going to be fine.”
Again Lianor translated, but the teen still didn’t seem totally convinced.
On impulse, Mallory hugged Brianca who hugged her back. They both shed a few more tears, then parted with smiles.
“Thank you,” Brianca said in English before darting back to the palace.
As she ran off, Lianor squeezed Mallory’s arm. “After receiving blame from everyone, especially from Ines who told my brother Brianca could be trusted, she needed your kindness. You’re a truly wonderful person, Mallory.”
“Please don’t give me any credit. The only thing of importance is that Apolonia’s alive. Where did the ambulance take her?”
“To the local hospital in Atalaia where Violente lives. It’s five kilometers from here.”
“I want to see her.”
“We’ll go after you’ve had breakfast and relaxed for a little while. I know you’re strong, but that was an emotional as well as physical ordeal you’ve just been through. I don’t want you passing out on me.”
They walked up the beach. Mallory picked up her sandals but didn’t bother to put them on. “There’s no chance of that happening; however I must admit I could use some tea.”
“Come on. Let’s go up to your room and take care of you.”
Side by side they hurried into the palace where Mallory took a shower and washed her hair. Since they were going to the hospital, she opted to wear a cotton blouse and matching wraparound skirt in a khaki tone.
When she entered the dining room and saw the amazing breakfast waiting for her, her appetite returned. Lianor was hungry too. They ate a little bit of everything including the sausage which had been cooked with green pepper, onion and a cheese sauce.
“Oh that’s good. No wonder it’s Apolonia’s favorite.”
Lianor’s eyes filmed over. “Thanks to you, she’ll be eating more of it, although she shouldn’t,” she added in a tremulous voice.
“What do you mean?”
“Apolonia has been putting on weight and looks like I did at her age, but Maria has never worried about things like that. Neither did my mother who fed us constantly. By the time I was seventeen, I was huge.”
“I was overweight in my early teens too, but then I shot up and that changed everything.”
“It didn’t happen that way for me.” As if she were embarrassed by the admission, she got up from the table. “How long do you think Apolonia will have to stay in the hospital?”
Lianor had changed the subject so fast, Mallory realised she’d just had a glimpse of the pain she hid from the world. Maybe one day she’d trust Mallory enough to tell her the rest.
“I have no idea. Every case is different. Maybe she’ll be home by tonight.”
“I hope so.”
Mallory eyed her with concern. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.” In truth she was anxious to see Apolonia for herself. There could be complications, but she hadn’t wanted to upset her friend further by discussing them.
“I’ll pack a bag for Apolonia and meet you at the car.”
Within fifteen minutes they’d reached the hospital in the peaceful little town surrounded by beaches. Though not big, the hospital was as modern and up to date as any in Los Angeles.
After learning that Apolonia had been transferred from the ER to a private room, they walked to the nursing station on the main floor where Lianor found out which room down the hall was her niece’s.
Mallory touched her arm. “You go in first. You and your brother need some time alone with her. I’ll wait in the lounge we passed.”
“Thanks. I won’t be long.”
Once she was on her own, Mallory walked the short distance to the waiting room where she saw a mother nursing her baby in one corner, an old couple sitting in another holding hands. Mallory smiled at everyone and sat down.
Tension kept her body from relaxing. Until she knew how Apolonia was faring, she wouldn’t have any peace. Not able to sit still, she got up and decided to take a walk outside. On the way to the exit she told the nurse at the desk she’d be right back.
The beautiful sunny day mocked the turmoil going on inside of her. Though she looked out on a calm ocean, all she saw was a pair of fathomless black eyes staring at her with a mixture of agony to think it might have claimed his daughter…and shock to think the woman he’d disliked without ever having met her, had plucked his Apolonia from its watery grasp in time to save her.
“Ms. Ellis?”
Mallory had heard that low, gravelly male voice earlier today. With heart pounding, she turned around.
She’d only noticed his eyes before.
Now she saw the whole man dressed in black swimming trunks and a blue T-shirt. He must have been planning to join his daughter in the surf when he’d heard she was in trouble.
Physically she saw nothing that nature could improve upon. His Mediterranean heritage gave him his olive skin. The arrangement of striking male features beneath vibrant black hair and brows created someone fascinating as well as unbelievingly appealing.
He had height and breadth in perfect proportion to his long powerful legs. Such an unforgettable face and strong, cut body could well inspire any artist to immortalize him on canvas.
To say he was an incredible-looking man would be an understatement.
“How’s your daughter?” she asked tremulously.
She heard the ragged breath he took. “Right now they’re giving Apolonia warmed fluids intravenously. So far she’s holding her own. The doctor says if she doesn’t develop additional symptoms in the next five hours, she’ll be able to go home.”
“That’s wonderful news!” she cried. Mallory couldn’t have been more thrilled if Apolonia were her own flesh and blood.
Those black eyes, eloquent with emotion, bore into hers. “You saved my daughter from drowning,” his voice shook. “How does one person thank another for the gift of life?”
Mallory could hardly breathe. “You just did,” she said in a quiet tone. “Would it help if I told you a lifeguard once saved my life when I was about Apolonia’s age and thought the ocean was my friend?”
His eyelids closed tightly for a moment. Perhaps he was thinking Mallory’s thoughts. That if she’d died, she wouldn’t have been here to save his daughter.
But Mallory knew that if she hadn’t come to Portugal, Apolonia wouldn’t have gotten into trouble in the first place.
“A big part of our thanks needs to go to Brianca. She screamed your daughter’s name loud enough for me to hear, and she kept screaming until she got my attention. That enabled me to return the favor the lifeguard did for me and my family by reaching Apolonia in time.”
His features hardened. “Another few seconds in that water and she would have drowned,” he whispered, still reliving the agony.
“But she didn’t,” Mallory said gently. “Seeing you like this, I now know what terror my parents must have experienced when the CPR didn’t seem to be working on me. I was their only child too.”
“Por Deus.” His dark head reared back in more anguish. “I told her I would swim with her this morning. But she left my room before I did because I received a call from one of my hotel managers in Cabo Espichel I had to take.
“I was still talking to him in my bedroom upstairs when one of the maids burst in and told me to come quick. By the time I reached the beach, you were already giving her CPR.” He paused. “I’ve only known pain like that once before…”
Mallory knew he was talking about his wife. If she could steer his mind away from the worst—
After a slight pause, “I met your daughter last night. She’s very precious.”
A visible tremor passed through his body. He cleared his throat. “She hasn’t stopped talking about you. When Lianor walked in the hospital room alone a few minutes ago, Apolonia begged me to come and find you.”
Mallory bowed her head. “Will the doctor allow her to have visitors yet?”
“Only if it’s the woman who restored my daughter to me. He feels it will aid in her recovery. So do I,” he said in a husky tone.
CHAPTER THREE
MALLORY felt Rafael’s hand on her waist, urging her forward. The touch was purely impersonal, but its warmth seeped through her body.
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Rebecca Winters
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Rafael′s Convenient Proposal, электронная книга автора Rebecca Winters на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы