His connection to the young woman beside him was for once allowing him entry to an experience that they perhaps took for granted. He valiantly steered his mind away from the distressing recollection that had assailed him yesterday and concentrated instead on this new memory that Dominique and her sweet child were helping to create.
‘Make yourself useful!’ she chided him suddenly, passing him a handful of crusts and gazing up at him with teasing mirth in her brilliant blue eyes. ‘I’ve literally got enough here to feed the five thousand!’
‘If you ask me’ Cristiano responded drolly, ‘those birds already look overfed. Any more food and they will not be able to take off!’
‘A sense of humour, Señor Cordova? I didn’t expect that!’
‘You think I am too serious?’ he asked, frowning, not quite knowing how to take her criticism.
‘Perhaps … I don’t really know. It’s just that you seemed like you were miles away, that’s all.’
‘I was merely observing the other people doing what you are doing and wondering how it is that a simple pastime such as throwing some bread to birds can bring so much pleasure.’
‘When you do it with your children it’s the best thing in the world!’ Dominique announced, leaning into Matilde’s pushchair to plant a sound kiss on her daughter’s plump pink cheek. ‘Isn’t it, Tilly?’
Cristiano remained silent in bittersweet agreement, but as his gaze locked with Dominique’s a palpable sensation of warmth seemed to flood his insides. His previous disquiet vanished and he knew he was staring. The icy wind that was blowing had stung her cheeks into two bright pink spots of colour, and some fine strands of honey-brown hair, freed from her plait, danced wildly across them.
She glanced quickly away, clearly discomfited by his intense regard. ‘When we’ve got rid of all the bread, do you think we could go and eat?’ she asked him, her gaze now firmly on the lake and the diving birds as they braved the near-frozen surface to reach the semi-submerged crusts.
Concerned that he had neglected his duties, Cristiano agreed straight away. ‘Of course! Do you like Indian food?’ he asked her. ‘There is an exceptionally good Indian restaurant nearby, where I have reserved a table for us. If you do not like that particular cuisine then we can go somewhere you’d like better.’
‘Indian is great … as long as you think I’m dressed okay? It’s not somewhere really posh, is it?’
‘No … it is not “posh”.’ His lips curved into an amused smile. ‘It has an authentic Indian ambience, and you can go dressed casually—as we are.’
‘What you’re wearing is casual?’ Now it was Dominique’s turn to be amused.
Glancing down at his smart chinos, handmade Italian shoes, black cashmere sweater and three-quarter-length black leather jacket, Cristiano was genuinely perplexed by the question. ‘My outfit is certainly not formal, if that is what you are suggesting!’
‘No … perhaps it isn’t formal, but it still looks expensive and classy. Whereas what I’m wearing definitely doesn’t! Perhaps we ought to just go for a burger somewhere? I don’t want to embarrass you.’
She was wearing denim jeans, boots, a bottle-green polo-necked sweater and the slightly oversized tweed coat she’d had on yesterday. Very little make-up adorned her features, and she looked fresh-faced, young and beautiful. Why she imagined he would be remotely embarrassed to be seen with her appearing as she was Cristiano could not begin to fathom. He did not like the sense that her parents’ emotional neglect of her—as well as his cousin’s abandonment—had made such a harsh dent in her self-esteem.
‘That is an entirely ridiculous notion, Dominique! You look perfectly acceptable to me. All I want you to do is enjoy the food and hopefully the company too.’ He smiled wryly. ‘Put your worries aside for a while.’
‘And they won’t mind at the restaurant if I feed the baby while I’m there?’
‘You are feeding her yourself?’ For a moment Cristiano sensed an intense tingling heat throb low in his stomach at the idea of Dominique breastfeeding, and he was furious with himself for feeling aroused when it was the most natural thing in the world for a mother to feed her baby that way. He noticed the colour in her cheeks bloomed even pinker at his question.
‘No. I tried to feed her myself but I had to give up in the end. I wasn’t very good at it.’
‘But she takes a bottle quite happily?’
Dominique nodded.
‘Then where is the problem? As long as she is able to take nourishment that is the main thing, is it not?’
Glancing towards the lake, Cristiano threw a handful of bread in the direction of a rather dejected-looking duck that was isolated from the rest, He shivered as a particularly icy breeze seared into his face just then. As pleasurable as this little outing with Dominique and the baby was, he was seriously missing the far friendlier climes of his own country. He was also concerned that it was too much for the child to be out in such hostile weather.
‘We should go now,’ he announced, swiping the remainder of the crumbs from his leather gloves. ‘It is really far too bitter for Matilde. We should get her inside into the warmth.’
‘You’re probably right. Say bye-bye to the birds, Tilly! We’ll come and visit them again another day.’
Rising to her feet, Dominique gave Cristiano a fleeting smile, and as she turned the pushchair round and started back up the path that had led them to the lake he automatically put his hand at her back, as if to guide and protect her …
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS going to be the last night Dominique spent in her bedsit for a while—at least until after Christmas, and maybe longer than that if she decided to take the monumental step of settling in Spain. She’d had a farewell drink with a couple of close friends, and Katie from across the landing, and now all she had to do was finish her packing. Thankfully Matilde was being an absolute angel and sleeping peacefully—tired out, Dominique was sure, from being cuddled and petted by the three girls who’d dropped in to say goodbye to them.
Tomorrow was the big day. She and Matilde were flying out to Madrid with Cristiano, and when they arrived his personal driver was going to meet them and transport them the seventy kilometres to the town where he lived. The thought was exciting, but somewhat overwhelming too. Cristiano kept telling her not to be daunted—that everything would work out perfectly—but Dominique could not help fearing it might not, and then where would she be? Back in this too-small bedsit with a growing infant and barely enough money coming in to make ends meet.
Pausing as she turned to the half-filled suitcase she’d hefted onto the foldaway bed that doubled up as a couch during the day, Dominique sighed heavily as she gazed critically round her. As optimistic as she’d tried to be when she’d first set eyes on the place, she’d be a liar if she didn’t admit the rundown décor and general living conditions weren’t depressing. If she hadn’t had a baby to look after and a job to go to five nights a week perhaps she might have got round to doing some redecoration to freshen it up a little …
No … she was glad to be leaving this bleak, dreary environment to go somewhere warmer and more welcoming. The only thing that was really making
