A Price Worth Paying(26)
But if arriving at Markel’s home had been daunting, inside was terrifying. So many people, so many women, all of whom seemed to know Alesander. All of whom were apparently keen to discover who she was.
Right now she might just as well have been a butterfly stuck with a pin inside a display case.
‘Alesander, you came.’ A woman’s voice broke through the laughter. ‘I knew you would.’
He leaned down and they kissed, cheek to cheek. ‘Of course, Madre, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
The woman’s gaze didn’t linger on her son, moving at laser speed over his guest, appraisal, judgement and summary execution in one rapier-sharp movement. ‘Oh, I see you found another cleaner.’
Cleaner? She looked up at him, waiting for an explanation, but Alesander only laughed.
‘Allow me to introduce you to Simone Hamilton, granddaughter of Felipe. Simone, my mother, Isobel Esquivel.’
Simone’s greeting was cut off, her proffered hand left hanging.
‘Felipe?’
‘Felipe Otxoa—our neighbour in Getaria. Remember?’
‘Oh, that Felipe. I didn’t realise he had a granddaughter.’
‘I’m from Australia,’ Simone offered in her rusty Spanish. ‘I haven’t been here long.’
The older woman smiled for the first time. ‘Oh,’ she said, giving Simone’s hand the briefest of acknowledgements with hers, ‘I hope you enjoy your holiday,’ and took Alesander’s arm, effectively excluding her from the conversation as she turned away to look for someone in the crowd. ‘By the way, darling, have you seen Ezmerelda yet? She looks fabulous tonight.’
Simone hooked a glass of champagne from a passing tray and almost had it to her mouth before Alesander claimed her arm and drew her back into the group. Wine sloshed over the rim of her glass at the sudden change of direction. His mother noticed, sending her a look of oh-you-so-don’t-belong-here, and she thought how terrified she’d be if Isobel was to be her real mother-in-law. Fortunately she didn’t have to be terrified.
‘Alesander’s always grabbing me at inopportune times,’ she shared with a conspiratorial smile. ‘It’s quite embarrassing.’
As if to agree, he smiled and pulled her in close to his body. She didn’t mind the display of affection. Not really. Other than what it did to her internal thermostat. But she could imagine worse places to be than against the hard wall of his body. And it was for a good cause. ‘Simone is actually staying a while,’ he said. ‘As long as Felipe needs help.’
His mother looked anywhere but at the places they made contact. ‘What’s wrong with Felipe?’
‘He’s ill, I’m afraid. He’s not doing so well lately.’ For a moment she almost thought she saw something like sympathy reflected in the older woman’s eyes but just as swiftly it was gone as she caught sight of someone in the crowd. ‘Oh, there she is. Alesander, I’ll be right back.’
‘So who’s Ezmerelda?’ she asked, easing herself away from the disturbing proximity of his body heat when his mother was out of earshot. ‘Should I be afraid?’
‘Markel’s daughter, to answer your first question, and probably a resounding yes to the second.’
‘And why, exactly, should I be afraid of her?’
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, ‘Because you’re wearing her dress.’
Shock forced her jaw to fall open. She stared at him, disbelieving. ‘What? So you knew all the time who wanted this dress? What kind of person would do that?’
‘A person who thought the dress would be wasted on her and look better on you. And it would have been and it does. Much better.’
She barely had time to digest that justification—for she could hardly call it a compliment, surely—when his mother was back with two people in tow. ‘Here they are,’ she said. ‘I told you Ezmerelda looked fabulous.’
Simone caught her breath. Not just fabulous, but stunning as she smiled a greeting to another couple as she passed, her bearing regal if not haughty, looking every inch a Spanish society princess with her black hair pulled back and woven into an intricate up-do, and wide dark eyes and flawless skin. Simone felt pale and uninteresting in comparison.
Markel reached them first, bowing a ruddy-cheeked face lower to catch her name, his smile wide as she wished him a happy birthday before he drifted off into the crowd for more congratulations. She liked the man on sight.