taxed her to the limit. Hyper-activity was the result of a mind over-stimulated by its thirst for knowledge, the child psychologist, whom she had consulted on the advice of her GP, had said. It would lessen as that need was appeased.
Their starting school in September would help, although she was going to miss the pair of them like crazy. Still, it would leave her free to take at least a part-time job—always providing she could find one, of course. One thing she had no intention of doing was relying on Rafael for total support.
By comparison with the other rooms she had seen, the comedor could almost be described as intimate. The table, Lauren reckoned, would seat no more than a dozen at full stretch. Packets of cereal were ranged alongside a selection of preserves and jugs of orange juice on a side-table. As she helped the boys make their choice, a door on the far side of the room opened to admit a youngish woman wearing a neat blue dress and carrying a basket of rolls along with an earthenware coffee-pot.
‘Buenos días, señora,’ she said pleasantly.
Lauren smiled and returned the greeting, deploring her accent. ‘I’m afraid I don’t speak your language,’ she apologised.
‘I speak English,’ said the other. ‘It is needed that we do so for the guests. My name is María. The coffee is freshly made, the rolls warm from the oven. Is there anything else I can fetch for you, señora?’
‘No, this is just fine,’ Lauren assured her. ‘Thank you, María.’
The woman smiled and withdrew. Seated at table, the twins polished off their cereal in short order and had two rolls apiece spread with apricot preserve. Neither of them was over-fond of coffee, but they made vast inroads into the orange juice. Freshly squeezed, Lauren had been quick to note. Everything here would be top-class, of course. The kind of guests who could afford to stay in such surroundings would expect nothing less than the best.
The view from the windows was the same one she had from her own room. With the sun now well up in the sky, the light was pure and sparkling, the distances needle-sharp. Gazing out, she knew an eagerness to be out there exploring the beckoning beauty of the Sierra.
Rafael himself was the only drawback. There was no relaxing in his presence; she felt tense again at the very thought of him. Accustomed to ruling the roost, there was no doubt, but he needn’t think he was going to do it with her. She would go along with his plans for the twins’ care and entertainment at the moment because they themselves seemed willing enough to be left, only no way was she going to abdicate from her position as parent in ultimate charge.
With breakfast over, and the boys already restless, she was at something of a loss as to where to go from here. Emerging once more into the hall, she thought at first that the beautiful dark-haired young woman, just emerging from the library with Rafael at her back, was one of the guests who had perhaps lost her way, an idea soon scotched when he introduced her as Elena Santos who would be taking care of the children.
‘I am very happy to have such a task,’ said the girl. ‘I will be very careful of their welfare, señora.’ She smiled at the two boys. ‘You would like to play a game with me?’
They answered in unison and in the affirmative, apparently quite happy themselves with the arrangement. Lauren stifled a pang as they went off without a backward glance. Such parting was something she was going to have to accept anyway when they started school, and the sooner she got used to it the better. They couldn’t spend their whole lives tied to her apron strings; she wouldn’t want them to.
‘Which leaves the two of us free to follow our own pursuits,’ declared Rafael. ‘You would like to see the rest of the castle?’
‘I don’t want to interrupt your routine in any way,’ Lauren answered, and saw that sudden disconcerting gleam in the dark eyes again.
‘What you really mean is that you’d prefer to be without my company, I think. Do you find me so undesirable a companion?’
‘No,’ she denied a little too hastily, ‘of course not! I just don’t want to put you to any trouble, that’s all.’
‘No trouble,’ he assured her. ‘Family comes before work.’
‘I’m not family,’ she said. ‘Not really.’
‘You bear the name of Quiros,’ he pointed out on a crisper note. ‘Blood is not the only measure. As the mother of my brother’s sons, you are and will remain family, whatever your feelings on the matter.’
‘I didn’t mean to imply any distaste,’ she said swiftly. ‘The name of Quiros is obviously well respected. What I don’t want is for you to feel in any way obligated towards me. I may not have the means to keep the twins in the style you have in mind, but I’m more than capable of looking after my own interests.’
‘Are you?’ His voice had lost the edge, the line of his mouth softening in a way that set her pulses beating suddenly faster. ‘I think perhaps you need to look long and hard at your prospects before making such a statement. Are jobs in England so easily gained that you could secure one at choice with no recent experience to offer?’
‘There are jobs which don’t necessarily require experience,’ she responded, trying to think of one.
‘With equally low financial return, perhaps so.’ He paused, studied her with enigmatic expression for a moment, then shrugged and dismissed the subject. ‘Come, we should make a start while the guests are still at breakfast.’
Pacing at his side as they traversed the corridor leading to the public part of the castle, Lauren was intensely aware of his closeness. He wasn’t touching her in any way, yet she could feel his body heat, catch the faint scent of aftershave or cologne, or whatever it was that Spanish men of his calibre might use; sense the latent power in that lean, lithe build. Rafael Javierre de Quiros was too much of a man for any woman to remain indifferent towards. Like his brother before him, he set her senses alight. Only it was not quite the same, because he also aroused hostility, and that was something else she was going to have to learn to deal with.
The castle was both extensive in area and superb in its upkeep. Lauren lost all sense of direction and all count of time during a tour which left out only the guest bedrooms. There was even a tiny chapel on the premises, utilising a room from which led the steps down to the dungeons.
Lauren made no attempt to conceal her emotions when shown the bare rock cells contained behind iron-barred doors, imagining the poor wretches incarcerated down here for months or even years at a time. Death would surely have been preferable to such a fate.
Death would certainly have been preferable to the agony inflicted by the instruments of torture still preserved in the chamber adjoining. She could almost hear the anguished screams echoing from the cold stained walls. To keep such gruesome relics at all was totally unnecessary in her estimation. Such cruel and barbaric times were best forgotten.
‘It represents a part of our history which should never be cast from mind,’ declared Rafael, guessing her exact thoughts with an accuracy she found even more disturbing. ‘Our guests appear to find the place fascinating.’
‘I find it repulsive,’ Lauren stated shortly. ‘I hope César and Nicolás are never brought down here.’
‘I doubt very much if they would understand the significance,’ came the seemingly indifferent reply, ‘but your objection is of course noted. I’m glad to find that you occasionally speak of them by individual name
