Rafael's Convenient Proposal. Rebecca Winters

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      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

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