‘Uh—yes,’ she said, as if there was any doubt about the matter. ‘She says the old man can’t wait for Cleo to arrive.’
Dominic shook his head. Serena was bound and determined to make this as difficult for the girl as it was possible to be.
‘Lily also said she thinks she should make some other arrangement if this is going to be a long-term commitment.’ She gave Dominic a sly look. ‘She’s even talking of moving in with you.’ She paused. ‘Now, wouldn’t that be a happy development?’
Dominic scowled, and, although Cleo didn’t even know the woman yet, it seemed painfully obvious that Dominic’s mother had already taken a dislike to her.
‘Um—perhaps I could stay at a hotel,’ she ventured, just as the pilot’s voice came over the intercom, advising them to buckle up as they’d be landing shortly.
Dominic gave her an impatient look as he seated himself in his own chair and fastened his seat belt. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘You’ll be staying at Magnolia Hill.’ His lips twisted. ‘Believe me, your grandfather won’t have it any other way.’
Lily Montoya was standing on the veranda when Dominic, Serena and Cleo arrived at the house.
Cleo guessed she’d been waiting for them, evidently as curious to see her late husband’s illegitimate daughter as she was to greet her son.
Cleo was conscious of the older woman’s eyes assessing her as she stepped out of the back of the open-topped Rolls-Royce that had been sent to meet them. But then Lily flung herself into Dominic’s arms, hugging him and chiding him and accusing him of being away for far too long.
Dominic treated his mother’s exuberance with as much patience as affection, his eyes meeting Cleo’s over the woman’s shoulder filled with a rueful resignation.
Nevertheless, it was obvious his mother had missed him terribly. And, despite his efforts to introduce her to Cleo, she persisted in distracting him with news about some woman he had apparently been seeing.
What did she think? Cleo wondered. That her son might be as unreliable towards his responsibilities as her husband had been? Or that Cleo was some kind of femme fatale, sent to take revenge on her mother’s behalf?
Shaking her head, she looked about her, unwillingly aware that Magnolia Hill was even more beautiful than she had imagined. A huge antebellum-style mansion, its whitewashed facade was faced by a row of Doric columns that blended with the ornate pediment at the roofline.
Tall windows, some with iron-railed balconies on the upper floor, framed a porticoed doorway. Shallow steps stretched along the front of the building, leading up to a marble-paved veranda.
And, within the shadows of the veranda, a handful of cushioned iron chairs and a pair of bistro tables offered a relaxing place to escape the late-afternoon sun.
It was all quite overwhelming. The breathtaking views she’d seen on the short journey from the small airport had hardly prepared her for so much beauty and elegance. Magnolia Hill was quite simply the most beautiful house she’d ever seen.
The house’s name was appropriate, too, she decided. It stood on a rise overlooking the land that surrounded it. A cluster of outbuildings, including cabins and barns and an enormous garage were set back among trees, while across palm-strewn dunes she could see the pink-white sands of an exquisite coral beach.
But the shadows were drifting over the island as the sun sank lower in the west and Cleo hoped it wasn’t an omen. Despite her admiration for her surroundings, she hadn’t forgotten how she came to be here.
She steeled herself with the thought that, in a matter of days, it would all be over and she’d be going home…
‘Put the boy down, Lily.’
The gruff command enabled Dominic to free himself from his mother’s clinging embrace and stride up the shallow steps to greet the elderly man who had appeared in the porticoed doorway of the house.
‘Hey, Grandpa,’ he said, shaking the man’s hand and allowing him to place a frail, but possessive, arm about his shoulders. ‘How are you?’
‘Better now that you’re here,’ Jacob Montoya assured him roughly, affection thick in his voice. He looked beyond his grandson to where the three women stood together. His eyes flicked swiftly over his daughter and daughter-in-law before settling finally on Cleo. ‘You brought her, then?’
‘Did you think I wouldn’t?’ Dominic’s tone was wry. ‘I know an order when I hear one.’
‘It wasn’t an order,’ his grandfather protested fiercely. But then he let go of the younger man to move along the veranda. ‘Cleopatra?’ he said, his voice quavering a little. ‘You’re the image of your mother, do you know that?’
‘It’s Cleo,’ she murmured uncomfortably, aware that he’d said nothing to his daughter yet. ‘How—how do you do?’
Jacob shook his head. He still had a shock of grey hair and despite the fact that there was no blood connection, he looked not unlike his grandson. They possessed the same air of power and determination.
They were both big men, too. In his youth, Jacob must have been as tall as Dominic. But now age, and his illness, had rounded his shoulders and attenuated the muscled strength that his grandson had in spades.
Still, his eyes glittered with a sharp intelligence that no physical weakness could impair. And, although his stature was a little uncertain, the hand he held out to Cleo was as steady as a rock.
‘Come here…Cleo,’ he said, ignoring Serena when she hurried up the steps to take his arm.
‘Where’s your stick?’ she hissed, but Jacob only gave her an impatient look.
‘I’m not an invalid, Rena,’ he muttered. ‘Leave me be.’
Cleo went up the steps rather timidly, which annoyed her a little, but she couldn’t deny it. She couldn’t help being in timidated by this man who was, incredibly, her grandfather.
She was also aware that both Serena and Lily Montoya were watching her. Probably hoping she’d fall flat on her face, she thought bitterly. It was becoming more and more obvious that neither of them really wanted her here.
Jacob was still holding out his hand and, with a feeling of trepidation, Cleo put her hand into it and felt the dry brown fingers close about her moist skin.
‘My granddaughter,’ Jacob said, and she was almost sure there was a lump in his throat as he spoke the words. ‘My God, girl, you’re beautiful!’
Cleo didn’t know what to say. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Dominic propped against one of the pillars. He’d taken off his jacket and folded his arms, watching their exchange with narrowed green eyes.
What was he thinking? she wondered. And why, at this most significant moment in her life, did she feel as if he was the only friend she had?
Which was ridiculous really. She hardly knew him, for heaven’s sake. Oh, sure, there’d been that moment in the cocktail lounge of the hotel back in England when she’d sensed he was attracted to her. But that had just been a brief
