Maid for Montero - By Kim Lawrence Page 0,51

so kind of her.’

‘I’m flying to Paris in the morning.’

By the time he turned back at the door Zoe had wiped her face clean of the ludicrous disappointment she had felt at his casual disclosure. ‘Oh, and Polly is not expecting you in work until Monday.’

As the door closed she picked up the phone. ‘Polly—no, that’s why I’m ringing. I’m fine—I’ll be in work tomorrow.’

Even if it killed her it was too late not to fall in love with Isandro, but she was damned if she was going to let him micro-manage every aspect of her life. She had to make her own decisions, stay independent. He wasn’t going to be around for ever.

CHAPTER TEN

INITIALLY IT HAD BEEN scary working in the gallery, but Zoe had soon gained more confidence and now she loved it. Especially since Polly had begun to give her responsibility, which she thrived on.

Today had been a good one. A buyer for an insurance firm had left having purchased several very expensive pastels by a new up-and-coming artist, and there was a spring in her step when Zoe finally locked up the gallery and fastened her jacket against the cold breeze blowing down the street. She was wondering if she’d make the early train when the loud honk of a car horn made her look up.

Pulled up beside the pavement, showing a selfish disregard for the parking restrictions, was a car she recognised. Her heart picked up tempo as she walked towards it, and as she reached it the window on the driver’s side rolled down.

‘What are you doing here?’

Isandro smiled. He hadn’t actually known where he was heading until he had arrived just as she was emerging from the gallery. The sight of her slim, trim figure had, if not lifted his spirits, definitely alleviated the gloom.

‘I’m heading home. Do you want a lift?’

The terse delivery made her look more closely at him, her brow furrowing as she studied his face. There was nothing specific, but she could tell that something was wrong.

‘That would be good—my feet are killing me,’ she admitted.

They had been driving along in total silence for ten minutes before she spoke. ‘So what’s wrong?’

He flashed her an impatient sideways glance. ‘Nothing is wrong…What makes you think anything is wrong?’

‘You haven’t said a word.’

‘Can’t a man enjoy a little silence? Do we have to indulge in an endless stream of boring, meaningless drivel?’

She let out a long silent whistle. ‘If you’re going to speak to me in that tone you can drop me off.’

By way of reply he pressed his foot on the accelerator. ‘Don’t be so bloody touchy.’

‘Me! So are you going to tell me what’s wrong?’ She gripped the door and closed her eyes as they approached a hairpin bend. ‘Or are you going to drive us off the road?’

‘I am perfectly in control of this car.’

Despite his reply she was relieved that he did perceptively slow his speed as the powerful car came out of the bend.

‘I heard from my father today.’ He compressed his sensual lips hard enough to rim them with white in a physical effort to stem the flow of information.

‘That’s nice.’ Clearly it wasn’t, and prodding gently was a dangerous strategy but she couldn’t think of any other way to get him to open up. It was obvious to her he needed to even if he was too pig-headed to admit it.

Was there some problem between him and his father…? He had mentioned his mother once in past tense, and as he’d never said anything about his father she had always assumed that both his parents were dead.

‘Nice!’ he snarled.

Zoe’s confusion and concern grew as her gaze travelled from his white-knuckled hands on the wheel to his taut profile.

‘Sorry, is it bad news?’ He couldn’t accuse her of prying when he had introduced the subject…not that he wouldn’t if it suited him, she thought with a wry smile.

‘He’s invited me to his wedding.’ He elaborated, but as the additional information was in his native Spanish she was none the wiser.

‘I suppose it’s hard to see your father moving on. Has your mother been dead long?’ Her blue eyes shone with sympathy as she looked at him through her lashes.

‘Moving on!’ His teeth came together with an audible grating sound. ‘You think this is my problem?’

‘It’s only natural, especially if you were close to your mother—’

‘My father moved on so fast the headstone was still being carved. My father—’ He broke off, a nerve in his