She wasn’t trying to provoke Diego. She just wanted to push the boundaries for once in her life.
That was Maxie Parrish, Maxie concluded wryly as the countryside turned from a dun-coloured blur into a crystal-clear image of scrubland punctuated by the occasional tree, she always knew when to pull back.
‘You ride well,’ Diego commented now he could be heard over the engine.
She could only blame the island for freeing something crazy inside sensible Maxie. ‘Thanks for letting me ride!’ she yelled back.
As Diego eased back in the saddle, she felt the loss of him instantly.
‘Do you ride a bike every day?’ he said.
‘Every day to work—and sometimes when I’m at home.’
‘Home?’ Diego queried, frightening her with the speed of his pick-up. ‘Do you live alone?’
‘I do now,’ she said lightly.
‘No boyfriend.’
‘No…’ She drew the word out as if she had no time for one, which was true.
‘You don’t live with your parents, then?’
‘No.’ She took a moment. ‘My mother’s dead.’
‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Diego said, leaning forward to speak in her ear. ‘My parents too—both of them.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It’s been quite some time now.’
‘But it never gets any easier, does it? I think about my mother every day. I still miss her. I always will. I suppose you just learn coping strategies.’
‘I suppose you do,’ Diego agreed, and then after a moment he added, ‘What about your father, Maxie?’
Every part of her was instantly on red alert. ‘He’s retired,’ she said, reverting to the one-liner that always got her through. ‘He lives quietly now.’ She waited tensely, and was relieved when Diego let the subject drop.
‘Take a left here,’ he instructed. They were almost back at the palacio, and were entering a fenced lane beyond which lay endless paddocks where countless horses were grazing.
She stopped the bike and Diego got off. With the immense power of his upper body he barely used his legs as he vaulted lightly over a gate. A sleek bay pony, instantly recognising its master, came trotting over. Nuzzling Diego’s pockets imperiously, it consented to consume a packet of mints.
‘Are you going to ride him?’ Maxie asked almost simultaneously with Diego springing lightly onto the horse’s back. His injury counted for nothing now. Nudging the horse into a relaxed canter, he was at one with it immediately—but she guessed that when it came to playing polo at a professional level the stiffness in Diego’s leg would hold him back. Climbing the fence to watch, she rested her chin on her arm.
‘I come here every day to train,’ he explained as he cantered past.
She could understand why. The steady rattle of hooves was so soothing.
At least it was until another horse, wanting to join in the fun, bucked its way across Diego’s path, causing his horse to shy and then to rear. Diego only just managed to stay on, and the effort wrenched his leg. Dismounting, he bent double in pain. Maxie felt sick and wished she hadn’t been there to see it.
The one thing she knew she mustn’t do was turn away and have him think she was disappointed in him. ‘Can I help?’ she called out when he didn’t move.
He didn’t look up as he waved her away, but she saw the grimace of pain on his face. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have been at the top of his game only to stare failure in the face now, day after relentless day.
The first thing he did when the pain had passed was to check his horse, and then with a kind word he slapped its rump to urge him back into the field. When he limped towards her she said nothing. There was no need for words. Their eyes met briefly and that was it. In some ways it was the closest they’d come.
The hot red sun was sinking slowly behind the mountains as Diego rode the bike home. They had been out for hours and she’d hardly noticed time passing. The black peaks were framed in a shimmering gold, and even the sea had calmed into a smooth lilac disc. It was an incredible sight, but the day had gone flat. Diego took the bike at a modest speed, as if he didn’t want to invite any more disasters. When they reached the house and she dismounted, he rode away without another word.
This feeling, like a lump of lead in her stomach, was due to her getting too involved, Maxie concluded as she walked across the silent hallway. Did she really think she could ease Diego’s pain? What if she tried and it didn’t work?
What if, what if, what if…?
She was a doer, not a dreamer—wasn’t she? How could she make things right for Diego?
* * *
Back in his bedroom, Diego raked his hair impatiently and swore as if that could blank out what had happened. What had possessed him to ride a horse in front of Maxie? Why had he let her watch? Why had he questioned her about her father and simply let it go? Was he afraid to hear the truth? Was he afraid to face the truth about his leg—his future—his place in the Band of Brothers polo team? Was he afraid to face the truth about Maxie?
The chances of one Parrish being connected to another in a world of individuals with the surname Parrish was practically non-existent. And if he asked her and there was a connection he doubted she would answer him honestly anyway. She would just strengthen her defences, making the elusive Peter Parrish even harder to find. It would save a lot of grief if he just hired a private investigator and waited until he had some answers.
He gazed out of the window at the pool house. There was still a very good chance he could make a full recovery. He had to believe that one day full feeling would return to his leg. One thing was sure—the enemy of his progress was inactivity. He’d take a shower and have a swim. If he could do nothing more than religiously practise the exercises he’d been given in the hospital then that was what he’d do.
* * *
Back in her room, Maxie picked up the phone to call Holly with the good news about the caves. ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she confirmed when Holly spoke without breath or break about her concerns for Maxie. ‘This isn’t about me,’ Maxie reminded Holly good-humouredly when she could finally get a word in. ‘It’s your wedding—though the next time you might warn me what to expect on the unreconstructed man front!’
‘There won’t be a next time,’ Holly said, laughing down the phone. ‘And I doubt anyone could warn you about the Acosta brothers. They’re unique!’
‘They certainly are,’ Maxie agreed, laughing too. She went on to explain what she had seen and how she thought they could use the caves as part of the entertainment for the guests. They chatted some more and Holly thanked her for the photographs.
Maxie had crossed to the window by this time, only to see Diego crossing the garden. On his way to bed down the horses, she presumed. She pulled back just in time as he looked up,
