that he had not experienced in a very long while steal over him. And the truth was he found it almost too seductive for words …
The impressive edifice loomed up before Dominique like some intimidating Moorish citadel from the ancient past, and her blue eyes widened in surprise. When she’d thought about what Cristiano’s home might be like she hadn’t really known what to expect, and hadn’t asked. But in her wildest dreams she would never have imagined something on the scale of grandeur and beauty she was seeing now!
Cristiano’s driver—who had introduced himself at the airport as Valentín—smoothly drove the luxuriously upholstered black sedan up the twisting walled road that led straight to the entrance, and, craning to see out of the window, Dominique saw three women standing outside in the courtyard, in front of a huge double-fronted doorway. It was coming on to late afternoon, but the sun was still a banner of fierce brightness in the sky and she shielded her gaze with her hand from the stunning glare.
Sensing movement beside her, she turned as Cristiano’s depthless sable eyes sought hers. ‘We are here. And, as you can see, your eager reception committee is waiting.’
He smiled and there was something else in his glance besides satisfaction in reaching their journey’s end that Dominique couldn’t readily identify. Something that made her feel as though she was falling, with no glimpse of where or how she would land …
Her stomach turned hollow.
‘Gaaa!’ Wriggling in her baby seat, a now wide-eyed Matilde reached out to Cristiano with a gummy grin.
Catching the tiny plump hand that waved wildly in the air, he raised it to his lips and kissed it. ‘The same to you, my little princess! Now, let us go and see who is waiting to meet you. May I?’ he asked Dominique, and when she nodded agreement he carefully lifted the baby into his arms once more.
To tell the truth, Dominique was glad he had offered to take her daughter, because now it came to it she realised just how acutely anxious she really was about this meeting. Out on the gravelled courtyard the sun was still beating down with surprising force for December—and Dominique moved towards the little group that was waiting to greet them with Cristiano and Matilde just ahead of her, her heart galloping and her stomach turning uneasy cartwheels.
She prayed that any impending awkwardness that might surface would soon be behind her, so that she could at least try and relax a little, but her mind was racing with fear and doubt. What if Ramón’s mother believed that Dominique had somehow driven her son away? What if she blamed her or felt resentful that she lived while he had died? She knew her wild speculation made no sense, but she couldn’t seem to help herself.
In the group that was gathered there were two older women and one perhaps a little bit older than Dominique herself, and she saw that one of the older women was wearing black. For Ramón? she speculated. This, then, must be his mother. All the women were strikingly attractive, with the same midnight-dark hair as Cristiano, but in the two older women it was threaded with pure silver.
The woman dressed in black moved towards Cristiano and the baby with tears streaming freely down her face. Most of what followed speech-wise Dominique could not understand, not being familiar yet with the language, but she did hear ‘Ramón’ and ‘la niña’ several times, and the emotion in the other woman’s voice acted as a catalyst for her own. She swallowed hard to try and contain it, her heart full to overflowing as she watched the woman who must be Ramón’s mother lift a curious-looking Matilde eagerly but lovingly into her arms. Then tears turned quickly to beaming smiles, and the baby was showered with kisses and more loving attention—not just from the woman who held her, but from the other two women as well.
Feeling somewhat redundant, yet strangely happy as she viewed the highly emotional scene, she glanced up in surprise as Cristiano stretched his hand out, indicating she should go to him.
‘Dominique …’ The pale, slender palm she slid into his was given a reassuring and firm squeeze that sent immediate goosebumps flying across the surface of her skin. ‘Come and meet my family. This is my mother, Luisa.’
Warm eyes with the gloss of silky dark chocolate beamed back at her. Then, without further ado, she found herself being kissed soundly on both cheeks and pulled urgently against the other woman’s ample bosom for a fierce, affectionate hug.
‘Dominique!’ she heard, in Luisa’s halting, deeply accented voice. ‘Words cannot describe what we are all feeling today. The baby—she is … she is so—so important to us, we cannot tell you! Cristiano … Please, my son, explain.’
‘In my family,’ he began, his dark gaze settling gravely on Dominique, ‘my mother and Consuela are the only ones left. They have lost nearly everyone … parents, uncles, aunts … their husbands, of course. I am not married, and neither is my sister Elena. Therefore there were no grandchildren until Matilde. What my mother would like me to convey to you is that she is our hope for the future … and so she is very, very precious to us all.’
Dominique stared—first at Cristiano, then at Luisa, then at Ramón’s mother, who was grinning from ear to ear as she jiggled a now laughing Matilde. So much loss … It was unbelievable. She was almost unbearably moved. For the first time since Cristiano had suggested it, she felt a sudden clear certainty that she had done absolutely the right thing in coming to Spain, and in that moment she knew she would stay. There was a lot of healing to be done here, and who knew? Perhaps her beloved child would help start the fragile process?
‘Well … I’m very pleased to be here with Matilde, Luisa. Even though the circumstances are so sad.’
‘You must call me Mamá,’ Luisa instructed immediately, grabbing Dominique’s hand and patting it. She glanced at her son, watching the proceedings with his usual quiet, dignified gravity. ‘She is very beautiful, is she not, Cristiano?’
His pensive glance touched Dominique’s for a long, disturbing second. ‘Sí. She is.’
‘I am Elena.’ The stunning younger brunette stepped away from Ramón’s mother’s side at that moment and gave her a quick, hard hug.
Her perfume was gorgeous, and no doubt expensive, but there was nothing stand-offish or superior in her manner, and for some reason, Dominique warmed to her right away.
‘The baby is so lovely! We are all just so excited to have you with us in time for Christmas, and hopefully after that you will decide to settle here permanently! I am afraid that Consuela’s English is not as good as my own, or my mother’s, but she so wants to speak with you and I will be happy to translate.’
Addressing the woman who held the still smiling Matilde so tenderly, Elena indicated she should come closer. Consuela stared deeply into Dominique’s anxious gaze and spoke in a passionate, clearly emotional flood of Spanish.
‘She says she is honoured to meet the mother of her son’s child. She wants me to tell you that although her heart is broken because she has lost her beautiful son, she feels that she has been blessed by the Holy Virgin herself because you had his baby—even though he did not take care of you as he should have. Ramón was not a bad person … only troubled.’
Wary of the lump forming inside her throat, Dominique smiled and nodded to show Consuela that she appreciated what she said. She took a moment before she asked Elena to convey to her that there was no blame in her own heart for what Ramón had done, only a great sadness that he had not lived to see the beautiful daughter he had fathered.
All the while she was speaking, Dominique had been keenly aware
