A Price Worth Paying - By Trish Morey Page 0,17

away she’d seen there was more than resentment in his eyes. There was sadness too, and hurt. Simone turned to their guest and shook her head. He shrugged, as if he’d been expecting such a lack of welcome all along.

‘How go the grapes, Felipe?’ he asked. ‘People are saying it will be the best harvest for years.’

Another grunt from the window.

Alesander gave up. ‘I should be going.’

‘You won’t stay for dinner?’ She wasn’t sure she wanted him to—the little exchange in the car had left her feeling unsettled—but maybe he’d been expecting to be asked after driving her home. And it would make a change to have younger company for a little while.

He shook his head. ‘I won’t impose on any more of your time. Felipe, it was good to see you again. It’s been too long.’

The old man gave a flick of his gnarled hand without bothering to look around.

‘But if there is one favour I might ask you before I go?’

The old man’s head turned by only the barest of fractions towards their guest. ‘It is Markel de la Silva’s sixtieth birthday party on Saturday evening. I was wondering if you might let your granddaughter accompany me.’

The neck that seemed comprised entirely of cords twisted around until his flat glassy eyes met hers. ‘Is that what you want?’ he asked her pointedly.

‘I would love to go,’ she said, liking the fact Alesander had asked Felipe for his permission. Their families might have been rivals for years but there was a note of respect in his request that had sounded sincere. Although she wondered what he would do if Felipe said no. ‘If it’s all right with you, of course.’

Felipe merely grunted. ‘You can do what you like, while you are here.’

‘In that case, yes,’ she said, already panicking about what she would wear. Party dresses hadn’t been a high priority on her packing list when she’d come, expecting to stay just a couple of weeks, not that she’d had many to choose from anyway. She’d just have to head into San Sebastian again and find something that would fit into her limited student budget.

Alesander must have been wondering the same thing, a telltale frown bringing his two dark brows closer together as if he could tell from what she was wearing that she would own nothing suitable for a posh Spanish party. ‘Did you bring a gown with you?’

A gown? ‘No,’ she confessed. Although he might just as well have asked if she even possessed a gown. ‘But I’m sure I’ll find something.’

‘I’ll take you shopping,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow. There is work I have to do in the morning first, but shall we say three o’clock?’

‘Watch that one,’ Felipe said between spooning up his paella. His appetite had been waning lately, and it was the one dish she could guarantee he would do more than pick at. ‘Be careful with him.’

‘You mean Alesander?’ I thought he seemed—’ she searched for words that didn’t include arrogant and bastard ‘—very pleasant.’

‘You think he is interested in you? Bah! He only came to see how close to death I am.’

‘No, Abuelo, why would you say such a thing? Why would he do that?’

‘Why else? He is after the vines. He already has three-quarters of them and now he wants the rest, you mark my words.’

She put her fork down, unable to swallow another mouthful, the ball in her stomach like lead and not only weighted with guilt. For, after the agreement she had made with him, Alesander as good as owned the vines. What would her grandfather say if he knew what she had done?

What she had done with good reason, she reminded herself, certain that once the marriage was announced, Felipe would be celebrating to know his precious vines were once again reunited, the fortunes of the Otxoa family restored.

Besides which, did it really matter who owned the vines after Felipe died? It might as well be someone who knew what to do with them.

‘I’m sure you’re wrong. I know you have had your differences with his father in the past, but I am sure Alesander is not as ruthless as you make out.’

‘He is an Esquivel. Of course he is ruthless!’

‘I could have met you in San Sebastian,’ she said when Alesander opened the car door for her the next afternoon. ‘You didn’t have to come all this way.’

‘I didn’t come for your benefit.’ He looked up at the window, where he caught the old man scowling at him