Public Marriage, Private Secrets - By Helen Bianchin Page 0,38

any of her letters. But then Raúl’s mother possessed sufficient wisdom to accept her son was eminently capable of managing his personal life.

Did time heal? Was it possible to find a resolution?

Perhaps…

Oh, for heaven’s sake…what was she thinking?

She’d moved on. Made a new life for herself. Dammit, she enjoyed what she’d achieved. What was more, she hadn’t touched a cent of the money Raúl authorised each month into her bank account. Hadn’t she notified him via his bank to cease payment? Not that he’d taken any notice.

Yet…last night…

Don’t go there. It was just sex…albeit very good sex. That it had reawakened her emotions and attacked the very core of her soul was immaterial, for it didn’t change his infidelity.

Except for the tiny core of doubt seeding in her mind.

‘Shall we adjourn to the sala?’

A concerned glance was all it took to discern Teresa was beginning to tire. Gianna discreetly checked her watch. It was three-forty-five, and Miguel had instructions to collect them at four-thirty.

The car arrived promptly, and hugs were exchanged as Adriana accompanied them to the porte-cochère, where Miguel ensured Teresa became comfortably seated while Gianna crossed to the other side and slid into the adjoining seat.

It had been a pleasant afternoon, and Gianna said as much as the car traversed the driveway.

Teresa reached out and took Gianna’s hand in hers. ‘Lovely,’ she agreed. ‘Thank you for accompanying me.’

‘The pleasure was all mine,’ she responded quietly.

They shared a comfortable silence during the drive to Teresa’s villa, and once indoors Teresa acknowledged her nurse and the need to rest.

Gianna gave her an impulsive hug, then watched as Teresa ascended the stairs to the gallery and moved towards her own suite of rooms in the west wing.

The hours stretched ahead…hours in which she could access e-mails, check the online data Annaliese would have posted. Reading presented another option, but she felt a need to expend some restless energy, and the thought of stroking lengths in the pool held definite appeal.

It didn’t take long to change, don a bikini, collect a towel and make her way to the smoke-tinted glass-roofed pool.

Grateful for the solitude, she dived into the cool water and struck out, frequently changing style as she powered length after length before switching to a more leisurely pace.

‘Are you done?’

Gianna stilled at the sound of that familiar drawl, and turned to see Raúl standing with relaxed ease on the wide expanse of marble tiles surrounding the pool.

How long had he been there? She hadn’t heard a sound, nor had she noticed his presence.

‘What if I say no?’

‘I’ll take that as an invitation to join you.’

She cast his tall frame attired in black trousers and white shirt a sweeping glance. ‘You’re not suitably dressed.’ Undressed, she added silently, and glimpsed his faint smile.

‘I don’t recall it being a problem in the past.’

No, it hadn’t been. ‘This is Teresa’s home,’ she managed with a degree of reproval, and felt her eyes widen as he unbuttoned his shirt, discarded it, then he released the zip fastening on his trousers, slipped off his shoes, socks, and disposed of all three.

Black silk briefs separated him from total nudity, although the effect of his barely covered frame caused her pulse-rate to quicken to an alarming beat as he surfaced in the pool mere inches from where she trod water.

Dark and dangerous, was her initial reaction, and her lips involuntarily parted as he cupped her face and smoothed a thumb over one cheek.

‘How was lunch?’

‘Fine.’

One eyebrow lifted in silent query, and she held his gaze with equanimity.

‘Adriana is a wonderful hostess,’ she relayed with deliberate patience. ‘The guests proved to be delightful company. Superb food.’

‘Teresa?’

She sobered a little. ‘Teresa appeared to enjoy herself immensely,’ she opined quietly. ‘Although she tired as the afternoon progressed.’

‘Hence her decision to have a light meal on a tray in her suite.’

‘You think the afternoon may have been too much for her?’

He didn’t respond immediately. ‘I think she deserves to choose how and with whom she spends what time she has left.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Such simple words, meant to convey so much, and his eyes darkened as a slight shiver shook her slender frame. ‘Cold?’

It was more than that. A chill she couldn’t explain. For it was enmeshed in a host of emotions she felt unable to voice. Paramount was the need to seek solitude…for to remain here, close to him, was more than she could bear.

‘I need to go change,’ she managed lightly, grateful when he released her, and she swam to