A Scandalous Midnight In Madrid. Susan Stephens

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A Scandalous Midnight In Madrid - Susan Stephens Mills & Boon Modern

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could she do about it, when two of the nicest people she knew had decided to range their forces against her?

      ‘The mountain air will do you good,’ Chef Sorollo declared. ‘It will be so refreshing, and, apart from advising on the kitchen, you can source some new recipes for El Gato Feroz. Perfect!’ he enthused. ‘The cuisine in the mountain villages is said to be second to none. Good. I’m glad that’s settled,’ he added before Sadie had chance to say a word.

      ‘So, you’ll do it?’ Annalisa asked, barely able to contain her excitement as she leaned across the table.

      The alternative was to refuse to do something for Chef Sorollo, who had done so much for Sadie. ‘Yes,’ Sadie confirmed, biting down on everything else she’d like to say, but couldn’t when it involved her mentor. She might have felt marginally more upbeat about the forthcoming trip if she hadn’t seen the glint of amusement in the great chef’s eyes.

      * * *

      The sun was blazing down in the village square when Sadie finally arrived in the mountains after a long and tiring journey. She was somewhere close to Alejandro’s mountain retreat, but wasn’t sure of the precise details, as Annalisa had promised someone would meet her. Well, that someone hadn’t turned up. She’d been waiting for the promised lift for about an hour while village life bustled on around her. At least the surroundings were magnificent. Shading her eyes, she stared up at the majestic snow-capped peaks of the Sierra Nevada, noticing that the paths leading up were steep and rocky, and utterly uninviting in the heat of the sun.

      Seeing an elderly lady looking at Sadie as if she would like to help, Sadie asked, ‘El Castillo Fuego?’

       ‘Es menos de tres millas—’

      ‘I’m sorry?’

      The elderly woman pointed out a tree-lined track.

      ‘It’s less than three miles to the castle,’ she explained in heavily accented English. ‘Once you get past the smooth lower slopes the trail is a bit tricky, but you should arrive before it gets too hot for walking if you leave now,’ she added helpfully.

      ‘So, there’s no transport going up there?’ Sadie asked, hope dwindling as she stared apprehensively at the long and winding path.

      ‘There is only walking, or the helicopter used by El Duque.’ This was said with a glow of admiration in the old lady’s voice.

      ‘Excellent,’ Sadie said, trying not to sound too dejected.

      ‘There are some mule trains...’

      Sadie brightened.

      ‘But not today.’

      ‘Well, thank you very much for the information.’ She held back on her thoughts of El Duque soaring effortlessly up the mountain to his secluded retreat, leaving her to slog up to his remote castle on foot.

      ‘You can’t miss El Castillo Fuego,’ the old lady promised as Sadie adjusted a backpack that seemed to have doubled in weight at the prospect of the climb ahead. ‘It dominates the landscape for miles around.’

      ‘I can’t wait to see it.’ Determined she wouldn’t be beaten, she added brightly, ‘And thank you again for the help.’

      Well, at least she had a plan now. Arrive. Feed the invalid. Assess the kitchen. Leave.

      Sadie remained upbeat for approximately five hundred yards, after which it became clear that working in a kitchen had done nothing to prepare her for the outdoor life. If this was ‘smooth’ walking, she dreaded to think what the top part of the track would be like.

      * * *

      This was what he needed, Alejandro concluded as his stallion picked a safe route down the path. Freedom, fresh air, with just the wind in his face and the sound of the nearby waterfall cascading down the cliff, punctuated by the intermittent cry of an eagle.

       And a cry for help?

      In English?

      In a voice that sounded uncannily like Chef Sadie’s?

      Instantly, he saw his sister’s hand in this. Not satisfied with mollycoddling him after the accident, Annalisa had sent what she perceived to be an angel of mercy to cook for him. And now the angel needed assistance.

      Urging his horse around a rocky outcrop faster than safety allowed, he found himself confronted by the most astonishing scene.

      His stallion snorted its disapproval as he brought it skidding to a halt. Assessing the situation at a glance, he saw that Sadie was in no real danger, but she was lucky he’d ridden by. Poorly prepared for the mountains, she’d been let down by her footwear on the rocky trail. She’d slipped on the shale, and the straps of her backpack had become entangled in a tree. At the angle she was caught, she had no chance of freeing herself, but her feet were on the ground, so she was in no danger of falling any further down the slope.

      ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he demanded.

      ‘Hanging around?’

      He wasn’t amused. ‘For how long?’

      ‘Ten minutes or so. Does it matter?’

      ‘It would if I hadn’t ridden by.’

      Her scowl made him laugh.

      ‘You think this is funny?’ she flashed with a frown.

      What might have maddened him in the city—Sadie’s naivety; the risk she’d taken to walk up a track she didn’t know—irritated him, but relief that he had found her overcame everything...not that he wouldn’t make her suffer for a while.

      ‘Are you just going to sit there?’ she demanded.

      ‘Don’t tempt me.’

      Her answer was a snort of disgust.

      The slope of the land meant they were at eye level, and if the straps on her backpack gave way, the worst that could happen was that she would roll a couple of yards down the hill. ‘I’m not sure I’ve got time for this,’ he said as he wheeled his horse around. ‘Thor is hungry and impatient to get home. If he should bolt—’

      ‘Bolt?’ she scoffed. ‘Weren’t you born in the saddle?’

      ‘In a caravan, actually.’

      She shrugged. ‘If you’ve finished staring, I’d appreciate a hand getting down.’

      ‘You haven’t told me why you’re here,’ he said, and with considerable restraint, in his opinion.

      ‘I’m supposed to be checking out your kitchens, as requested by Chef Sorollo, so I can advise on a refurbishment,’ she informed him tetchily, ‘but I can hardly do that while I’m swinging from a tree.’

      ‘Clearly.’ His lips pressed down as he frowned. ‘I did ask Chef Sorollo for advice.’

      ‘And he decided to send me. Now can you please get me down?’

      He

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