Legacy of the Highlands Page 7

  “I’m glad that he found you. He called here first and I told him Miguel had taken you shopping,” she said as she poured a glass of milk to accompany Alex’s second cookie. “He’s a dear man and he cares for you.”

  “I know he has a good heart, but the situation with us is a bit complicated.”

  The older woman noticed the lightning fast change in Alex’s expression. Something Diego had done clearly upset her. “I respect your privacy, Señora, but if you ever want to talk…I’ve known Diego since he was a boy and I remember your husband from his many visits here during school vacations. If you think I can help, I would be honored if you let me.”

  “Thank you, Luisa. Diego and I have some things to work out. I’m sure it’ll be all right.”

  “I understand,” Luisa replied and gave Alex a gentle hug as she left the room.

  As days and then weeks passed, Alex gradually grew stronger. She slept soundly, ate well, swam mindless laps, read, watched movies in the villa’s theater and took long walks on the beach. Her freckled skin finally tanned and the sun added glints of gold and copper to her auburn hair. When she looked in the mirror, instead of hollow-eyed pallor, she saw the glow of health. She never wanted to leave this enchanted Shangri-la. She was afraid that when she went home to Boston, she’d fall apart.

  She still grieved…a lot. Will’s murder was very real to her and there was no pretending that he was alive. But as time passed she became aware that the shape of her grief had changed. There was a gnawing emptiness at her core and she accepted that this void was now a permanent part of her. She missed Will the way she imagined an amputee must miss an arm or a leg. Most of all, she mourned the future they’d never have, the memories they’d never make. She’d have to learn to be content with those she already had.

  Chapter 10

  Alex was swimming laps in the pool when she heard loud voices and a commotion coming from the normally tranquil house. Adrenalin surged through her body like an electric current, triggering her heart rate to soar well beyond the soothing, exercise-induced thump-thump of a moment earlier. Fight or flight. Her senses sent up a red alert and for a split second she wondered how long she’d be able to hold her breath if Will’s murderer crashed through the door and she had to play dead at the bottom of the pool in order to survive.

  Then she saw the reason for the ruckus — Diego.

  He emerged from the house and stood at the side of the pool, arms crossed, grinning at her. A moment later he impulsively tore off his shirt, kicked off his shoes, unzipped his pants and dove into the water as cleanly as a sleek seal. He’d stripped quickly, but not before Alex eyed his magnificent body and the tiny black briefs that left nothing to the imagination.

  He surfaced beside her and she began to weep as he murmured soft, soothing words in unintelligible Spanish. Would this man’s lifelong connection to Will always remind her of what she’d lost and overwhelm her with sadness?

  She’d made a decision while he’d been gone. He would have to tell her why he and Will had stopped speaking. She knew their affection for each other wouldn’t have allowed the rift to be permanent and was determined not to waste another minute being angry. It had been Will’s fight, not hers. She took a couple of shaky breaths and tried to smile as he made a futile attempt to dry her tears with his wet hands. He towed her to the shallow end of the pool and sat next to her on the steps.

  “What am I going to do without him Diego?”

  “You’re a survivor and you’ll be fine in time,” he said softly and then his face hardened. “No! You’ll do more than survive, Alex. Way more. Will would be miserable if you never found happiness again...and you will, in time, Preciosa, in time. I promise.”

  She almost believed him. His black eyes blazed and he gripped her hands so tightly that she winced. He saw her reaction and quickly raised her fingers to his lips. “I’m sorry,” he said as he kissed one hand then the other. “Strong emotions sometimes make me forget my own strength. Forgive me.”

  She nodded and lowered her head to gaze at the hands that his lips had just touched. Her delicate diamond and emerald wedding band glinted in the sunlight. Diego tipped her chin up with one finger and kept it there so that she couldn’t turn away.

  “Listen to me, Alex. The passion you and Will shared...well, it was something rare. We both know that kind of love doesn’t die. It will always be with you, even when you fall in love again. My friend Will, the man we both loved, lives on in our hearts and in our heads. He’ll always be with us, amiga mía.”

  “I know that, but it’s not the same,” she whispered. It seemed natural to find herself in his arms and she rested her head on his chest for a moment. Her bare skin felt like satin and Diego’s lips itched to explore her neck, so he reluctantly loosened his hold. Friendly affection was one thing. That would be quite another. “Let’s dry off, ” he said as he effortlessly pulled himself out of the pool before his body’s response to her became too difficult to control.

  “I’m going to ask Serge to make a couple of mojitos for us. Is that all right?”

  “Sure,” she replied. “And stop looking at me that way,” she added when she noticed Diego checking her out despite the modest competition Speedo she had on. Even so, his gaze made her feel naked.

  “I can’t help it. You look wonderful and I didn’t know what condition I’d find you in. I was afraid…well…I was afraid, that’s all.”

  “I’m a little better than when you left. It’s going to be a long road, but at least I’ve begun the journey. Didn’t someone say the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step?” she said as she toweled off her dripping hair.

  “I think it was Lao Tzu if I remember my Chinese philosophy correctly,” he said, fascinated by the way the muscles in her arms flexed as she tried to make her hair’s wet spikes behave. “Your hair is different. Shorter, yes?”

  “Yeah. I had it cut the day after you left. It’s too hot here for long hair. Do you like it?”

  “It looks good on you, but I like long hair. If you were my woman and cut your hair I’d be tempted to put you over my knee,” he blurted out and had the grace to blush.

  Alex stifled a giggle. She knew Diego would never lay a hand on her or any other woman and she was enjoying his obvious discomfort.

  “So, Navarro, you’d spank me? And no doubt enjoy it! You idiot,” she teased.

  “That was really bad, wasn’t it? Come,” he said, taking her hand. He was happy to see her smile even if the joke was on him. “Serge will bring our drinks to the courtyard.”

  Alex hadn’t seen the mysterious Serge since the night she’d arrived at the villa and she wondered what, precisely, his job was. She doubted that the muscular gentleman’s duties were confined to welcoming guests and serving drinks.

  “Will there be anything else, sir?” Serge asked deferentially after he delivered a tray of canapés along with their drinks.

  “No, but I need to see you in my office later — perhaps in about an hour.”

  “Very well, sir. “

  Alex wouldn’t have been surprised to see Serge click his heels before departing.

  When he’d gone, she turned to Diego. “What’s Serge’s real job? He’s definitely not a butler.”

  “Your instincts are good.” Diego hesitated before continuing. “Actually, Serge is my bodyguard. My parents insist on it, the same way they equip all their homes with elaborate alarm systems. It may appear excessive, but it makes them feel safe. I’m a grown man, but they still worry that some desperate group will kidnap me for ransom, so Serge travels with me. Since our company has its own security team in Abu Dhabi, Serge stayed here for some well-deserved down time. And if he was doing his job right you weren’t aware of it, but I wanted him here to protect you,” he added, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Protect me? Why? I can’t believe you think I need a bodyguard.”

  “Until we know why Will was murdered and the bastard who did it is caught and punished, I don’t know wha
t to think. But while you’re here, you’re under my protection and that includes Serge.”

  “It’s a little extreme, but I guess I understand. It makes sense that your parents don’t want anything to happen to you,” she said as she sipped her drink. The Navarros’ world was very different from the one she inhabited. Diego’s father grew up poor, but had built a vast real estate fortune. And Latin America had a history of being more volatile than Boston. “If the Camerons had been a little more paranoid about Will’s safety he might still be alive,” she added softly.

  Diego nodded and drained his drink. “Maybe, but if someone’s determined to get you, they usually will.”

  “I guess,” she answered as she gazed into her glass lost in thought. “Where’s Serge from?”

  “He’s an interesting character. His full name is Sergei Sidovsky. He says he spent his childhood in Russia, then his family emigrated to Israel when he was eleven or twelve. I guess that much is true, but in his world truth has many meanings. He was an agent in Israel’s Mossad. My father always insists on the best and there is no better intelligence and security operation anywhere in the world. Now he works for us,” he concluded as if it was the most natural thing in the world to have a former elite spy on the family payroll.

  “Oh! And I thought he looked so Aryan with his blond hair and blue eyes. I was really wrong. Why the butler charade?”

  “I assume it’s the cover that my father and he agreed upon. When one’s family employs so much staff, it would be hard to know everything about everyone. That sounds horrible, doesn’t it? Will always said I was spoiled rotten. He was probably right.”

  He lowered his head and sighed deeply. When he looked up again, the cloud had passed from his face. He leaned back and his muscles rippled as he stretched. The towel he’d wrapped around his hips had shifted and barely covered his thighs…or anything else. Alex knew she was in mourning, but she wasn’t blind, and didn’t think there was anything wrong with admiring the work of art sitting across the table from her. Diego was extraordinarily handsome, but, unlike Will, he knew it and was very aware of the effect his smoldering eyes, chiseled jaw and full lips had on women. And the body, oh, the body. The man effortlessly exuded charm, sex and a hint of danger, a lethal mix.

  Diego was both flattered and disturbed when he felt her eyes on him. He abruptly got to his feet. “I have business to discuss with Serge. You’ll have to excuse me.”

  “Wait! You can’t just dismiss me. We need to talk, too. You and I are pretending that everything’s fine, but I can’t forget that Will was furious with you and then you disappeared from our lives for a year. I never believed his explanation for the fight so I want to hear your version.”

  The reminder that all wasn’t well between them felt like a knife in his belly and Diego turned away so she couldn’t see his pain. “I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, but not now. Let me take you to dinner tonight. Luisa will want to feed me, but it’s time you experienced a little Miami nightlife. I’ll reserve a table for us at Norman’s. Shall we say eight o’clock?”

  “I’ll hold you to that promise, but dinner out sounds good. That gives me enough time to soak in the tub and take a nap. Later.”

  Diego pulled on a T-shirt as he strode to his father’s study in a remote corner of the villa. The office was sparsely furnished with only a large mahogany desk, a couple of leather chairs, two phones and a custom-made computer. The place obviously existed for business and nothing else. Serge was already waiting for him so he closed the heavy door that rendered the room soundproof.

  Diego sat at the desk while Serge stood. Before he’d left the country, he’d told the bodyguard to learn everything he could about Will’s murder. He was accustomed to giving orders and expected them to be carried out. Serge never disappointed him. “What have you got?”

  “I put my U.K. contacts on this because of the dagger that was left at the murder scene. The name Cameron is associated with a clandestine independence movement in Scotland called the Group of One Hundred. There’s remarkably little current information about this organization or its membership, but I’m working on it. So far your murdered friend has no connection to this group, but my contact heard some chatter about a John Cameron. Of course that’s a common name in Scotland, so we need to go deeper to find out if this John Cameron is actually Will’s father.”

  “That son of a bitch. I wouldn’t be surprised if he is involved,” said Diego with disgust. He pushed his chair back so hard that it crashed to the floor and then he stalked from one end of the room to the other as he clenched and unclenched his fists. “I never liked Will’s parents. They’re made of ice.” He paused to refocus. Serge was used to Diego’s volatile temper and calmly awaited instructions.

  “Do what you need to do. Pay whomever you need to pay. Beat the shit out of Cameron if it’ll help get the information we need. If that hijo de putana father of his had anything to do with Will’s death he’ll be very sorry. The murdering bastards who did this will pay.” Diego seethed with anger as he paced the room. “Not only will I know who did this, but I will also know why. I’ll expect daily reports. That’s all,” he concluded.

  “Yes, sir,” acknowledged Serge as he pulled the door closed. Lifetime membership in the shadowy netherworld of international espionage gave him advantages that no police force, even Interpol, MI-5 or the CIA, could match. Those connections, combined with Diego’s deep pockets, made him sure that the identity of Will’s killer wouldn’t stay secret for long. What would happen once they found the twisted son of a bitch would be up to Diego.

  Chapter 11

  Alex felt like Cinderella getting ready for the ball. She told herself it was nothing more than a casual dinner with a friend, but she hadn’t been to a restaurant since Will’s death and she couldn’t pretend she wasn’t excited. She styled and re-styled her hair and told herself to stop fidgeting as she applied makeup. Although her wardrobe was limited, she tried on and discarded several outfits before finally settling on a narrow white skirt and fitted black tank top. She added silver stiletto sandals that set off her tanned legs and dabbed perfume behind her ears. Will had been dead for less than two months, yet she still had an innate need to look good. What was it that made women seek admiration from men, even those they didn’t care about? The instinct probably went back to caveman days, she concluded, and ordered herself to chill and simply enjoy the company of an old friend. When she came downstairs, Diego’s reaction to her appearance told her that the effort had been worthwhile.

  “You look beautiful,” was all he said as he took her hand and waved good-bye to Luisa who’d been watching them like a smug fairy godmother.

  “Wow,” Alex murmured when she spotted their transportation. Diego’s low-slung, silver Maserati Spyder was a radical and welcome change from the staid, chauffeur-driven Mercedes she rode in anytime she’d left the villa.

  “I’m glad you like it. I love this car,” Diego said as he held the door for her. An instant later the motor roared to life. The noise of its powerful V-8 engine and the sense that she dare not distract Diego from his deft maneuvers all but eliminated conversation. The car’s contoured leather seats hugged his body and his eyes never wavered from the road. His driving reflected his personality: skilled, confident and aggressive. “Nice going, Navarro. Maybe you’ll let me drive her sometime,” she commented as he pulled up in front of the restaurant in Coral Gables. He surprised her when he quirked a brow and grinned. “Maybe.”

  “Señor Navarro, how nice to see you again. It’s been too long,” said the maître d’ as he personally escorted them to a table. “Gianni will take care of you this evening,” he said, motioning to a waiter who instantly appeared by his side. “If you need anything, please let me know.” The restaurant was a favorite of Diego’s and based on the reception he’d received, and the discreet nods and smiles from various waiters, he was also a favorite of its staff.

  The mouth-watering aromas wafting through the crowded, noisy re
staurant from its open kitchen made Alex happy to have her appetite back. When Diego ordered steak, she decided to have the same. He added a variety of wines to complement each course. “They serve Argentine beef here. It’s the best,” he said with national pride after the waiter and sommelier departed. Then he turned his attention to the 18-year-old Macallan single malt he’d ordered — a taste he’d acquired from Will — as Alex toyed with the delicate stem of her vodka martini’s glass. As they waited for their first course to arrive they said nothing, nor did they let their eyes meet, suddenly awkward with each other. Alex crossed her legs first one way, then the other, but couldn’t get comfortable.

  She cracked first. “We have to talk. I need to know precisely what happened between you and Will,” she began after she’d drained her drink. Diego squirmed as her green eyes locked onto his and he signaled for another round. Whatever was coming next might be eased with alcohol. “You were such an important part of Will’s life and mine, and suddenly — poof! — you vanished last year. I want to know why.”

  “No small talk first?” he sighed in resignation. “I guess this isn’t going to be the amusing evening I’d hoped for.” He slowly buttered a slice of crusty bread and took a bite, stalling for time. “I’m surprised Will didn’t tell you why we fought.” he finally said.

  “Oh, he told me, but I want to hear it from you. He was always honest with me, but my intuition tells me he lied about this. I don’t know whether he was protecting me, or you, or himself and now you’re the only person who knows the truth.”

  “It’s a long story and I’m afraid it will upset you. I don’t want to do that.”

  “I’m not that fragile,” she snapped while she absentmindedly fingered her wedding ring, a tangible link with Will. He’d handpicked its emeralds because they reminded him of her eyes.