Natasha, who was clearly wondering what Isabella was looking so ‘dreamy’ about, she flushed a little guiltily. ‘I think that you should talk to Chris herself about that.’ She smiled and turned to fill her mug with the hot water that had boiled.
‘Trying to get some gossip out of you is like trying to get a politician to tell the truth! Bloody impossible! What amazes me is that you and your sister couldn’t be more different! Emilia wouldn’t hesitate to ditch any principles for a juicy story or a job promotion, yet you have enough for the whole of the UK!’
Stirring her tea and extracting the squeezed teabag, Isabella laid it carefully on a saucer and turned back to calmly regard her exasperated friend. It was ironic really. Her parents thought she had no principles for sleeping with some ‘opportunist stranger’ she’d met in Spain and getting pregnant by him and yet her friends thought she was too principled for words! She couldn’t win. ‘I’m honestly not trying to be holier than thou or anything; I just think it’s Chris’s business, that’s all. As for my sister—’ she frowned ‘—I want to be able to sleep tonight so I don’t think I’ll open that particular can of worms if you don’t mind!’
The relationship between the two women was even more strained than usual. Emilia had been frosty with Isabella ever since she’d returned from Spain last year and had not produced the demanded ‘interview’ with Leandro Reyes as she’d hoped—but Isabella had already decided that she was not going to divulge anything about her meeting with the renowned film director to anybody. Their time together had been so precious, so amazing, that she didn’t want to sully the memory of it with gossip. When she’d discovered that she was pregnant by Leandro, she’d strengthened that personal vow even more. Not even Isabella’s parents knew who her little son’s father was …And even though they clearly doted on their unexpected grandchild, they’d declared themselves to be ‘mortally disappointed’ in their eldest daughter for yet again letting down the side.
‘Well, if you’re not going to spill any beans, then I’m afraid I’m just going to have to love you and leave you.’ Her innate good nature overwhelming her disappointment at not learning any new gossip, Natasha stepped towards the dark-haired girl and gave her a genuinely fond hug. ‘Honestly, though, I’m happy to look after Raphael any time. He’s an absolute angel as well as being utterly gorgeous and you’ve made all your girlfriends green with envy …dedicated career women or not!’
‘Thanks, Natasha. It’s been a great help to me to be able to leave him at your nursery when I’m working at the library. I know for sure he’s in good hands.’
‘You’re welcome. And perhaps I’ll go see that film you saw tonight at the weekend? See if it’s as wonderful as you say it is.’
‘You won’t be disappointed, I promise you.’
Already the film had become monumentally important to Isabella because it was yet another precious link to the man she’d given her heart to all those months ago …the man who was unknowingly the father of her baby.
Walking her friend to the door and helping her on with her coat, Isabella turned eagerly towards the bedroom as the other woman finally left, unable to wait even one moment longer to see her sleeping child …
Tipping out the contents of his wallet to search for a telephone number he needed, Leandro came upon a small gold business card from his friend Benito’s hotel. He hadn’t been in touch with him since that night he’d taken Isabella there and now he dropped down into the faded leather chair behind his desk and frowned in deep concentration. All kinds of disturbing emotions seemed to flare in his blood as he continued to broodingly stare at the small embossed card. An avalanche of heat flooded his senses as Leandro recalled that amazing, sexually charged night he’d spent with Isabella. Isabella …
Such a longing arose inside him at the memory of the dark-haired English girl he had been so enamoured with that he’d seduced her on the very first night they’d met and for a moment the depth of that longing was a hollow, aching void in the centre of Leandro’s chest. He had thought about her often since bidding her goodbye outside her hotel in the Port of Vigo and there had been many a time that he had regretted his cautious decision not to give her his telephone number so that they could stay in touch.
But what was she doing now? He longed to know. Had walking the Santiago de Compostela brought her the clarity and sense of purpose that she had hoped it would? Knowing what he knew, Leandro could not doubt that it had. Perversely, in the months that had followed their parting, his personal sense of purpose had been in turmoil. He had won more acclaim for his work than he had ever dreamed of, with offers coming even from Hollywood to further his directorial career. Yet he had also lost his father just a month after meeting Isabella and the loss had been almost too hard to bear.
Suddenly work was not the exciting prospect that took precedence over everything. He was like a wounded soldier who had forgotten to keep his guard up in battle and had unexpectedly been cut down by a sword or a bayonet. His father’s death had been sudden, shocking, his life stolen in one dreadful moment by a drunken driver, and that had made his passing even worse.
Theirs had been a remarkable relationship. As well as being the most amiable and best of men to get along with, Vincente Reyes had been the most dedicated fan of Leandro’s film work. Yet Leandro had not been able to fulfil the one wish that his father had longed to see come true before he died. He had wanted to see his only son married and a father and would have liked nothing better than a grandson or daughter to dote on. But Leandro had not had a long-term girlfriend in nearly three years …how could he even think about a relationship when basically his life was more or less devoted to his work?
But now as he remembered the intensity of emotion he had experienced that night with Isabella, he seriously thought about getting in touch with her again. Thinking of his father and the brutal realisation that life could be so suddenly and frighteningly snatched away, it had made Leandro increasingly sense the importance of making a connection somewhere with another human being. A much more personal connection than he had made in a long, long time. If Isabella had a relationship or was married, then he would leave well alone. However, if she were not …then what would be the harm in arranging to see her again? Feeling his blood throb with purpose, Leandro reached towards the telephone on his desk, automatically punching out a number he used regularly to make travel reservations …
It had been a long day and her throbbing feet and aching back were testimony to just how long a day it had been. She’d practically been standing since she’d come in that morning at nine and now it was just after five in the afternoon. Isabella had never been a ‘clock watcher’ but when you became a parent, she’d discovered, time took on a whole new meaning. It became infinitely precious. Now she was almost resentful of every second that she spent away from her little boy. Stealing another glance at the clock on the wall behind the long curved counter where she stood, she made a neat stack of the letters that needed to go out tonight on her way home and considered the compelling luxury of a long hot bath to ease her tired, aching limbs after she’d put Raphael to bed.
‘Cup of coffee?’
Her fair-haired colleague leaned over the counter, taking Isabella by surprise.
‘Becky! You startled me.’
‘Daydreaming about that baby of yours again?’ Becky grinned. Only just eighteen, the engaging teenager was on a day-release scheme from a local college and quite frankly her unflagging enthusiasm and willingness to learn had been invaluable to the library team. Isabella had grown quite fond of the girl.
‘One day you’ll know what it’s like.’ She smiled back, her dark eyes twinkling.
‘Not
