by the whole thing, by Joanna’s death of course, but Tom’s especially. And I can’t claim to have been too controlled about it myself.’ She grimaced.
‘But why should you be?’ Alejandro frowned. ‘Tom was your older brother, Joanna your sister-in-law. It was—is—a tragedy.’
Brynne gave him a quizzically searching glance. ‘But without that tragedy you might never have known Michael was your son—’
‘What sort of man do you take me for, Brynne?’ he cut in frowningly. ‘Do you think I would wish Joanna dead just so that I could claim Miguel?’
Well, she had pretty much put an end to that truce, Brynne guessed with a regretful wince for her inappropriate choice of words.
‘Of course I didn’t mean that,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘I was just pointing out—’
‘Brynne, I am very happy to know of Miguel’s existence, and I hope that if Joanna had lived I would still have learnt of it one day when he had grown up and possibly asked about his real father.’ He was consumed with anger. ‘But I certainly do not feel any pleasure in the fact that his mother is dead!’
Brynne gasped breathlessly. ‘You’re deliberately misunderstanding me—’
‘I do not think so!’ Alejandro stood up abruptly, his face etched into hard, aristocratic lines. ‘No matter what you may have claimed only days ago, Brynne, I am not the inhuman monster you believe me to be,’ he bit out between clenched teeth before turning sharply on his heel and striding away.
He had thought Brynne had got to know him better than that in the last few days, felt deeply the knowledge that she still thought of him in that way.
Walking away seemed to be something Alejandro did a lot around her, Brynne acknowledged achingly as she watched him stride off towards the beach, bitterly dismayed at this fresh misunderstanding between them.
She turned sharply back to the villa as she heard the sound of glass breaking, knowing by the look of horror on Michael’s white, shocked face as he stood a short distance away on the tiled patio, the broken glass of orange juice at his feet, that he had to have heard at least the tail-end of her exchange with Alejandro, if not all of it!
Brynne got noisily to her feet. ‘Michael—’ she didn’t get any farther as the little boy turned on his heel—much as his father had done seconds ago!—and ran back inside the villa.
She hurried after him, all the time cursing herself for not remembering that as a teacher she was well aware of the fact that children had a way of appearing when you least expected them to—that, in Michael’s case, his return hadn’t been unexpected.
She should have realized, should have been more circumspect—
It was no good making the excuse that she had been so bemused by Alejandro’s almost gentleness as he had spoken of Joanna that she hadn’t given Michael’s return a second thought—she should have thought!
Michael was her priority. And in this case she and Alejandro were responsible for causing him pain.
‘Michael …!’ She groaned as she found him in his room face down on the bed, quickly crossing the room to sit on the side of the bed and gather him up into her arms.
Michael clung to her, crying so hard his whole body was racked by the shuddering sobs. ‘Mummy and Daddy are never coming back, are they?’ he choked as he clung to her. ‘I’m never going to see them again, am I?’ he cried as he was besieged by fresh sobs.
Brynne was crying too by this time, the salty tears wetting her lips as she held Michael tightly against her.
‘Are you going to die too, Aunty Bry?’ Michael sobbed. ‘And my new daddy?’
‘No, Michael,’ she gasped at his total desolation. ‘Of course we aren’t going to die.’
‘Don’t leave me, Aunty Bry!’ Michael clung to her even harder. ‘Please don’t leave me!’
‘Everyone dies one day, my love,’ she added huskily, knowing that truth was very important to children; lose their trust once and it was very hard to regain it. And there were no guarantees when it came to life and death …’But none of us is going to die yet, Michael. You’ll be a man yourself, possibly with children of your own, by the time your new daddy or I die.’ Surely fate couldn’t deal this bereft little boy two such devastating blows …?
‘That will be a long time then,’ Michael breathed thankfully.
‘Yes, a long time, darling,’ Brynne confirmed huskily.
‘Brynne …?’
She turned to look at Alejandro as he spoke softly to her from the doorway.
They made a desolate picture, Alejandro acknowledged even as he crossed the room to where they sat, both so emotionally wounded by this almost incomprehensible death of Joanna and Tom. ‘I heard the breaking of glass and your shout of “Michael”,’ he explained huskily even as he sat down on the bed beside Brynne. ‘I—’
‘Daddy!’ Michael had turned from his aunt’s arms to launch himself into Alejandro’s.
Alejandro felt emotion grip his own throat as he held Michael tightly to him, the little boy’s arms clinging so pathetically about his neck.
‘It is okay, Michael,’ he soothed as he stroked that silky dark hair so like his own. ‘Aunty Brynne and I will not leave you. You are not alone, Michael,’ he assured him firmly. ‘I promise you will never be alone.’
He was a man who chose to keep himself separate from emotion, having decided long ago that it was better that way. But Michael’s pain was such that it was impossible to remain unaffected. This was his son. His son! And Michael needed him in a way that no one else ever had.
He was filled with such a tidal wave of love that he found it almost impossible to speak, talking softly in Spanish when he finally found his voice again, reassuring his son of his love for him even as he stroked and held him close.
Not able to speak fluent Spanish, Brynne had no idea what Alejandro was murmuring to Michael, but it only needed one look at the softened arrogance of his face, and to hear the husky emotion in his voice, to know that it was something very personal, something totally private between father and son.
Feeling like an intruder on that emotion, she got quietly to her feet to walk over to the window. Michael had been so brave these last two months, so self-contained, that the release, when it had come, had been heart-shattering.
And when it had come, it had been Alejandro he had turned to for comfort …
She was glad.
For Michael’s sake.
But mainly for Alejandro’s.
He was a man who held himself so aloof from emotion, even knowing of Michael’s existence, bringing him here, not seeming to have shaken Alejandro’s well-ordered life too much. But she had seen love in Alejandro’s eyes a few minutes ago, and knew that Michael’s despair had finally broken through the barrier Alejandro seemed to have placed around his own heart.
Seeing
