with my love.’
‘May I open it now?’
‘Please.’
Teresa carefully undid the decorative bow, removed the ribbon, opened the jeweller’s box, and her eyes shone with pleasure. ‘Oh, my dear. It’s exquisite. I shall treasure it. Thank you.’ She lifted a hand and cradled Gianna’s cheek.
‘Soon you must ready yourself to leave. And I must rest. Travel carefully, my dear, and God speed. Above all, thank you for spending time with me.’
Any second now she was going to cry. ‘I adore you.’ They were the only words she could summon, and Teresa smiled gently.
‘And I you.’
Gianna made it to the staircase, then her eyes blurred as the tears welled.
In an hour Miguel would drive her to the airport, where the Velez-Saldaña helicopter would transport her to Madrid, and then she’d board the Lear jet en route to the Gold Coast.
She was doing the right thing—tying up loose ends, ensuring everything she’d worked for over the past three years was settled to her personal satisfaction.
One week…what was one week in comparison to a lifetime?
Gianna sent Raúl a text message just prior to climbing into the helicopter. Another in Madrid, during the taxi ride to Barajas Airport.
It was as the driver entered the carriageway leading to the international terminal that doubt settled like a shroud and an inner voice cautioned, What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you insane?
She was almost there, for heaven’s sake. Any minute soon the taxi would pull into the departures terminal, the driver would remove her bag, she’d pay him and head inside.
Except suddenly it seemed all wrong.
The taxi slid into its allotted bay, and the driver killed the engine.
OK, it was now or never. ‘I’m sorry, I’ve changed my mind. Please take me back to the city.’
English, she could almost hear him think. Never know what they’re doing.
‘You are sure, señora?’
She was never more sure of anything in her life.
‘Yes.’ She gave him the address of the Velez-Saldaña conglomerate’s headquarters, then sank back in her seat.
CHAPTER TWELVE
WHAT if she was wrong?
What if Raúl wasn’t working late at his city office? Oh, God, don’t think.
This is what you want, she reiterated silently as the taxi slid to a halt outside the entrance foyer of the tall office building.
‘Wait…please,’ Gianna instructed as she slid from the taxi’s rear passenger seat and crossed to the security intercom system.
Simply press the security buzzer, wait for video recognition to gain entry, then walk to the bank of elevators—one step after the other. How difficult could it be?
Are you kidding?
Except the memory of his touch, the way he kissed her…She momentarily closed her eyes at the vivid recall of their lovemaking. It was more than sexual coupling…so much more.
Dammit, she uttered beneath her breath. What are you waiting for?
Do it.
For a long moment nothing happened, and despair swept through her body. She was about to turn back to the taxi when the security guard’s voice issued with polite warmth.
‘Señora, Señor Velez-Sandaña is currently at his apartment. You wish me to telephone ahead and relay you are on your way to see him?’
‘No.’ She nervously lifted a hand and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind one ear. ‘No,’ she reiterated. ‘I’d prefer to surprise him.’
‘Very well. Buenos noches.’
Traffic at this time of the evening flowed fairly freely, and Gianna was aware of increasing tension with every passing kilometre that closed the distance to Raúl’s apartment complex.
You can do this. The silent affirmation strengthened her resolve, and when the taxi drew to a halt in the sweeping forecourt she paid the driver, added a generous tip, collected her bag, then crossed to the building’s entrance.
The doorman greeted her, ushered her in to the foyer, where she summoned an elevator and keyed in the appropriate floor when she entered it. She took a deep, calming breath as the electronic doors slid closed.
Passage to the high floor was swift, and she crossed with measured steps to the solid double doors guarding entry to his luxury apartment.
Don’t hesitate, a silent voice bade her. Simply press the door chimes… And wait.
For an anxious moment she wondered if he was in…maybe he’d chosen to dine out.
Then he was there, and he stood in the wide aperture, his dark hair rumpled as if he’d raked fingers through its length.
Wearing black trousers and a loose-fitting white cotton shirt unbuttoned almost to his waist, he bore a faintly piratical air…solemn, almost brooding, as his eyes seared her own.
‘I didn’t take the flight.’ Nothing quite like stating the obvious, she decided with