blamed his own rush of passion for what had happened. She hadn’t known what she was doing. But it was hard to forget her natural instinctive reaction—the hot, charismatic longing that had vibrated between them. As he showered, Ricardo tried to clear his mind and think reasonably. It was just physical, nothing more, he reminded himself as he dressed for dinner.
Gabriella dressed carefully, choosing a pale blue designer shift that fitted perfectly, all chiffon and lace, bought on her last trip to Milan, and thin, high-heeled satin sandals to match. Instead of leaving her hair loose she brushed it back in a strict ponytail that left her elegant rather than sexy. Diamonds sparkled in her ears. Taking a deep breath, she took a last look in the mirror then headed downstairs to face what would inevitably be an embarrassing encounter.
Ricardo rose as she entered the living room. She glanced at him sideways, unsure of his reaction. But to her surprise he acted as if the afternoon’s interlude had never taken place. Gabriella experienced a rush of gratitude. She let out a tiny sigh of relief and sat next to her father, taking his hand in hers and giving him a hug. It felt secure to be next to him, to know he would always protect her, whatever happened in her life.
‘So, my love,’ Gonzalo said fondly, patting her cheek, ‘did you two have a nice afternoon?’
‘Very pleasant, thank you,’ she answered demurely.
Ricardo watched her, resisting the desire to smile. She was a piece of work, he realised, amused despite his anger at her foolish behaviour. She was very young, and perhaps she had over-estimated herself—had no idea of just how patently sexy she was. He found himself feeling indulgent towards her as she cuddled next to her father, looking much younger despite her sophisticated outfit and the ponytail.
Dinner was announced and they rose. Then suddenly Gonzalo stopped, lifted his hand to his chest.
‘Daddy?’ Gabriella held him, sending Ricardo a panicked look. ‘What’s wrong, Daddy?’ she cried.
Ricardo rushed to the other man’s side, saw his face turn white. ‘We must lie him down on the couch immediately,’ he said, taking Gonzalo’s weight and laying him among the cushions.
‘Daddy, what’s wrong?’ Gabriella cried, grabbing her father’s hand.
Gonazalo’s eyes closed and his breath came fast. Then his lips opened. ‘Promise me,’ he whispered in a weak voice. ‘Give me your hand,’ he said to Ricardo.
Ricardo frowned and took the old man’s hand, felt him place it over Gabriella’s. ‘I am leaving you, little one,’ he whispered. ‘I want you both to promise that you will marry within a month.’
Gabriella’s eyes flew in panic from her father to Ricardo.
‘But you can’t go—you can’t leave me, Papa,’ she cried, panic-stricken, tears pouring down her cheeks.
It was a split-second decision. But as Ricardo looked from father to daughter, saw the anguish in the dying man’s eyes, the lost distress in the girl’s, he knew there was no choice.
‘I promise,’ he said, loud and clear.
‘My Gabinha,’ the old man whispered, his voice weaker by the moment. ‘Answer me.’
‘I—Daddy, don’t leave me,’ Gabriella wept.
‘Promise me, my darling.’
‘I…I promise,’ she whispered, her head falling.
Ricardo watched as Gonzalo let out his last breath and Gabriella, her hair splayed over his chest, wept uncontrollably. A few minutes elapsed before slowly he lifted her and held her silently in his arms, aware that he had just made the biggest commitment—and perhaps the biggest mistake—of his life.
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