bringing me to Spain and letting me be a part of all this …’ Gesturing at the busy, colourful market around her, Dominique smiled, shy and tentative.
‘You are most welcome.’ He bowed his head towards her in a formal manner almost from a bygone age, and was silently delighted when her eyes widened to the size of dinner plates in response.
From time to time—inevitably, perhaps—Cristiano spied a face that he knew in the crowd, and immediately engaged in conversation. Inevitably too a curious gaze would go to Dominique, and he would have to introduce her.
Seeing how it made her uncomfortable to receive their condolences about Ramón, he made the decision to cut short their visit and leave for the hilltop restaurant where they were lunching instead. But as they prepared to leave the bustling market behind he spied the most exquisite sapphire-blue shawl on a stall displaying many beautiful silks and scarves—it was almost the same vivid hue as Dominique’s eyes.
Steering the surprised young woman beside him towards it, he nodded at the plump grey-haired holder whose stall it was, and whose own generous shoulders were covered in a bright scarlet version. Gesturing towards the blue silk, Cristiano asked her how much it was and then bartered her down to a lesser, more reasonable figure, as was the custom. When the item had been wrapped and paid for, he drew Dominique to one side and gave it to her.
‘It matches your eyes,’ he told her, his voice lowering. ‘And it will be perfect to wear later on, when the sun goes down and the evening gets cooler.’
As she accepted the gift he placed into her hands, he was touched to see her lips tremble ever so slightly as she received it.
‘It’s—it’s too kind of you, and it’s absolutely beautiful! Thank you, Cristiano.’
The way she said his name, in her reserved English accent, made his insides flood with warmth. He liked it. The trouble was he thought perhaps he liked it a little too much, and that immediately alerted him to the fact that he was not keeping his guard up against her charms as strictly as he should be.
Grimly, Cristiano made himself remember what had happened to Martina and their baby, and as ice flowed into his blood instead of heat he found his ardour for the pretty young woman beside him thankfully ebb …
CHAPTER EIGHT
AT THE restaurant they sat outside, like many other diners, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the stunning views of the mountains in the distance. Viewed from a stranger’s perspective, Dominique was sure she blended in perfectly with everybody else … a tourist, perhaps, having a relaxing lunch with a handsome friend, husband … or lover … She flinched at that last too disturbing possibility. Yes, outside she might appear to be calm and at ease, but inside … inside she was in utter turmoil.
The gift of the stunning sapphire shawl from Cristiano had all but undone her. So had the comment he had made about her eyes. Coupled with his deeply stirring kiss last night, she barely knew what to do with the wildly impossible thoughts she was having.
‘You are not eating.’
Glancing up, she tumbled headlong into the compelling velvet darkness of Cristiano’s searching gaze. ‘I’m just trying to take it all in … the beautiful day … that breathtaking view of the mountains … the fact that I’m here in Spain and Matilde has been reunited with a grandmother who loves her. I might have to pinch myself to check that I’m not dreaming!’
‘So … you are happy?’ A corner of his beautiful mouth quirked upwards into his smooth-shaven cheek. ‘Happier at least than when you were in England on your own?’
‘I won’t pretend it wasn’t tough. Being a single mother is hard enough, but to be honest I think there’s a conspiracy of silence about raising children amongst those who have them! Because it’s viewed as such an everyday event it’s assumed it should be somehow easy, when actually it’s probably one of the hardest things a human being could ever do!’
‘But you do not regret having Matilde?’
‘Never! How could I? She’s the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me! I’d die if anything happened to her!’
‘Well …’ Raising his wine glass to his lips, Cristiano’s tanned brow creased thoughtfully. ‘One day you will meet a good man, get married, and she will have the father she deserves.’
Why did his comment not cheer her in the way he obviously meant it to? Dominique reflected dolefully.
Of course she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life raising her daughter on her own, but after Ramón’s desertion thinking about meeting someone else was the furthest thing from her mind. Yet when she was with Cristiano she sensed herself becoming more and more entranced by him. And seeing the way he was with his family—so caring and protective—and how he was so natural with a small infant like Matilde, didn’t help her vow to keep her distance for fear of future hurt—but something told her it was already too late for that anyway …
‘That will not be for a long time yet, I’m sure.’ Laying her fork down beside her plate, she touched her napkin to her lips, inexplicably feeling her heart race.
‘You are not the kind of woman who should be alone, Dominique.’
‘What makes you say that? I’ve been managing all these years on my own, more or less!’
‘But that does not mean you have to continue managing on your own.’
‘Let’s change the subject, shall we?’ It was hard not to react defensively when Cristiano was touching upon the one issue that never made her feel very good. ‘Relationships are unfortunately my Achilles’ Heel, and that’s just the way it is! No matter how hard I try, I’m just no good at them!’
‘Be careful that doesn’t become a self-fulfilling prophecy,’ Cristiano warned darkly, his expression without humour.
Why did Dominique get the curious feeling he was not just talking about her? What was his story? she mused silently. Why wasn’t an amazing man like him married, with at least half a dozen kids to dote on? He was clearly devoted to family, and appeared to genuinely love children. Yet there was something behind those fascinating eyes of his that Dominique had glimpsed once or twice that bothered her … something that suggested he had been badly wounded by someone too …
‘This is really very good,’ she said, digging her fork into the fragrant rice dish in front of her, knowing she was deliberately trying to deflect further discussion about a topic that caused her more grief than any other. ‘Though it’s hard to concentrate on food with the fantastic view.’
‘Yes,’ Cristiano agreed, his steady gaze lingering long on Dominique’s face. ‘The view is … rather compelling …’
Later that evening Dominique found herself in the library. She had mentioned to Luisa that she had forgotten to bring a book to read, and the older woman had kindly brought her to this magnificent repository of books of all kinds—many, as she had proudly told Dominique, in English. Her husband had been a great reader, and so was Cristiano, and he often brought books back with him from his travels. After Luisa had left her to go and help prepare the evening meal, and while Matilde was under the protective wing of her grandmother in the sitting room, it was really pleasant for Dominique to have some time in which to relax on her own for a little while.
