croissant.’
She moved past him and entered the en suite. She picked up the hairbrush and attacked her hair, stroking the brush through its length until her scalp tingled, then she applied minimum make-up.
Her eyes widened as she caught sight of Miguel via mirrored reflection as he moved in to stand behind her, and her fingers faltered and tightened around the tube of lipstick.
She felt like a finely tuned string that was about to snap as he turned her round to face him, and she was powerless to move as his head descended.
‘This, this,’ Miguel breathed close to her mouth, ‘is important. Nothing else.’ And he kissed her, thoroughly, until her head spun. Then he released her, and walked from the room.
Hannah gripped hold of the marbled vanity unit and tried to regain her breath. Dear heaven, what was the matter with her?
She had no idea how long she stood there, only that it seemed an age before she gathered up her bag, slid her feet into heeled shoes, and made her way downstairs to the garage.
Ten minutes later she parked the Porsche, then crossed the road, bought a daily newspaper, entered a coffee bar and joined the patrons enjoying breakfast.
At nine she unlocked the boutique and spent the next half-hour on the phone chasing a courier who had been supposed to deliver late the previous afternoon, and hadn’t.
The morning dragged, and trying to continually pin a smile on her face began to take its toll. How could she pretend to be happy when inside she was breaking into a thousand pieces?
‘Are you ill?’ Elaine enquired with concern at midday.
‘No.’
An inquisitive smile curved her attractive mouth. ‘Pregnant?’
‘No.’
‘You sound hesitant,’ Elaine teased. ‘Could that be a maybe, but it’s too soon to tell?’
Hannah simply shook her head. ‘Go take your lunch break.’ She extracted her purse and took out a note. ‘Can you bring me back a chicken and salad sandwich and bottled water?’ Today she’d eat in the small back room instead of spending her usual half-hour break at a nearby café.
Elaine finished at four, and the afternoon seemed to drag as Hannah checked her stock list, then made a few phone calls. A fax came through alerting that a special order would be despatched by overnight courier, and she made a note to phone the client.
Miguel’s forceful image haunted her, as it had all morning, only now it was worse, for there was no one to talk to, no client entering the boutique to attract her attention, and the phone didn’t ring.
Thinking about last night made her stomach twist into a painful knot. Somehow Miguel’s controlled anger had been worse than if he’d let fly a string of pithy oaths, or thrown something, yelled at her. Instead he’d reduced her angry outburst to a childish tantrum, and that irked and angered her more than she wanted to admit.
The electronic buzzer sounded, alerting her to someone entering the boutique, and she summoned a warm smile as she moved out from behind the desk.
‘Hannah, darling.’
‘Mother.’ Renee always rang before calling in. Always. The fact she hadn’t this time caused Hannah’s forehead to crease into a slight frown.
‘I know, I should have phoned first. But I was close by…’ She trailed off, before launching into an explanation, ‘Lunch with an old friend, darling. And I thought I’d just pop in and say hello.’
‘It’s great to see you.’ She injected enthusiasm into her voice and crossed the floor to bestow the customary air-kiss to each cheek. ‘The scarves arrived this morning. I put a few aside that I thought you might like. Would you like to see them?’
Business. If she could keep everything on a business footing, maybe Renee wouldn’t notice the fine cracks in her daughter’s façade.
‘Oh, please, darling.’
Hannah retrieved the box, extracted three scarves and spread them across the counter. They were pure silk, exquisitely patterned, and an attractive fashion accessory.
Renee selected two, then crossed to the blouse rack, chose one, then moved to the desk. ‘I’ll take these, darling.’ She gave a soft exclamation, and followed it with a ladylike curse. ‘I don’t believe it. I’ve left my bag in the car.’
‘Locked, I hope,’ Hannah said at once, concern marring her features.
‘Of course, locked, darling. I have my keys.’ She held them up in plain sight. ‘I remember activating the alarm.’
‘Where are you parked?’
‘This side of the street, just a few cars down.’ She held out the keys. ‘Would you mind fetching it for me?’ She cast the empty boutique a cursory glance. ‘It’ll only take a minute.’
Maybe a breath of fresh air might lift her mood, Hannah determined as she accepted the keys and made for the door.
It was hot outside, the sun’s brightness intense after the air-conditioned coolness indoors. A few cars down meant she met the worst of the glare as she walked towards her mother’s car, and she lifted a hand to shade her eyes. Only to come to a dead halt at the sight of a familiar tall frame standing beside Renee’s Lexus.
Miguel. Looking totally relaxed and at ease, his expression shaded behind dark sunglasses. A deceptive pose, for she had no doubt beneath that calm exterior lay the coiled strength of a predator.
There was a part of her that wanted to turn back and return to the boutique, where her mother’s presence would ensure civility was maintained. Yet she refused to take the easy way out. Whatever they needed to say to each other had to be said.
Miguel saw the moment she mentally squared her shoulders, witnessed the slight lift of her chin, and accurately defined the expression in her clear blue eyes.
It was her nature to confront, resolve, and move forward. He was bargaining on her doing just that.
‘It’s four thirty,’ Hannah said evenly as she took the necessary steps to reach the Lexus. ‘What are you doing here?’
He pulled back the cuff of his jacket, checked his watch, then trapped her gaze. ‘A few minutes past that, if you want total accuracy.’
Miguel didn’t shift position, and she was forced to move in close as she deactivated the alarm, unlocked the passenger door, retrieved her mother’s bag, then reversed the security process.
‘Shall we return Renee’s bag?’ he queried mildly, and she threw him a measured look.
‘We?’
He caught hold of her elbow, firming his grasp as she made to wrench away. ‘We,’ he reiterated firmly.
‘Miguel—’
‘There’s the easy way where we walk back to the boutique. Or I can hoist you over one shoulder and carry you. Which would you prefer?’
