EDUARDO woke, astounded to find daylight pouring into the room. Realising that he had more or less slept through the whole night, apart from once drowsily opening his eyes to make sure that Marianne was still sleeping beside him, he could hardly believe what had occurred. Moving a little to test his limbs, he realised that there was very little discomfort or pain to be found anywhere. The knowledge amazed him. Instead of hurting, his body felt rested and replenished.
Contemplating the reason for this miracle, Eduardo turned on his side, propping himself up on his elbow to study the slumbering and enticing slender form next to him. His heart seemed to miss a beat. Even with the full glare of the morning sun exposing every feature and hiding nothing she was simply ravishing. How could she not be, with skin as smooth and unblemished as the most perfect peach, and her honey-coloured hair softly framing her face to fall gently over her shoulders in a silken tangle? Such a sight to start the day would surely make any red-blooded male rejoice. Once again Eduardo mentally framed the picture she made, knowing without conceit that if he were to shoot it, it would be much coveted by all who saw it.
But of course if he were to take Marianne’s picture he would never consider selling the result or giving it away. He would keep it for his own private delectation. An almost irresistible urge gripped him to go and find his camera—a top-of-the-line professional Nikon, the one he had hidden away in the trunks that contained his belongings from Brazil. No matter how much he tried to tell himself that it was part of his old life, not the present—that it was probably best to just leave it alone, as he had vowed—as he rested his glance on Marianne Eduardo was not quite convinced that he should keep that vow after all. Smiling as he recalled how willingly and passionately she had surrendered the astonishing gift of her virginity to him last night, he sensed his blood heat, and slumbering desire stirred to commanding, aching life as he continued to appraise her.
‘What’s the time?’ As if sensing his observation, Marianne opened her eyes. A cornucopia of dazzling green and gold dazzled him.
‘Who knows? Does it matter?’ Shrugging, Eduardo stroked his fingers gently down her flushed cheek.
‘Of course it matters! I have to go back to my room and get ready for the day.’ Pushing herself upright, Marianne swept back her hair with her hand, her anxious glance seeking out her scattered night wear. ‘It must be at least eight or eight-thirty, and I have to make break fast and light the fires or the house will be stone-cold. Oh, Eduardo! Why didn’t you wake me?’
‘I did not want to disturb you because you looked so peaceful and beautiful lying there, my angel…like Sleeping Beauty herself. Can I be blamed for simply wanting to gaze at you?’
‘But I’m not Sleeping Beauty, am I? In case you’ve for got ten, I’m your house keeper—and I’ve got work to do.’
Her grumpy response to his compliment merely amused Eduardo. He would forgive her just about anything today after the pleasure they had shared last night. Spying her night gown at the end of the bed, Marianne reached forward to grab it, yanking it unceremoniously down over her head—but not before Eduardo had a very edifying glimpse of her perfect blush-pink tip-tilted breasts and hour glass waist. He sat up, his arms possessively circling that lovely waist. Kissing the back of her head, he let the amber scent of her shampoo fill his nostrils even as her silken flowing hair tickled his nose.
‘You do not have to work today. I am giving you the day off,’ he told her.
Marianne jerked her head round in astonishment. ‘That’s all well and good, but—’
‘What?’
‘You can’t just give me the day off like that when there’s work that needs to be done! You need a housekeeper, Eduardo, and may I remind you that’s why you hired me?’
‘Housekeeper or no, what I need right now is you, here in my bed.’
Eduardo was sure desire thickened his voice and blazed from his eyes, and he made no attempt to disguise it—because as well as feeling aroused beyond measure, a great need had arisen inside him to be totally frank with this lovely woman.
‘I’ve just realised something.’ A dawning look stole over her face.
‘What?’
As she twisted round in the bed so that she was facing him properly, Marianne’s glance was one of joy and wonder. ‘You slept right through! You didn’t wake once…or at least if you did I didn’t hear you. Did you wake? Did the pain in your leg disturb you?’
Grinning, Eduardo tenderly framed Marianne’s face with his hands. ‘It is perfectly true. I did sleep through the night. I woke just once—not because I was in pain, but just to make sure you were still there beside me, namorada.’
‘I promised you that I’d stay,’ she answered shyly, her gaze momentarily lowering. ‘And I’m so glad you weren’t in any pain. You’ve endured so much, coming through nine operations. You surely deserve some relief.’
‘It has not been an easy time, for sure.’
‘It must have been the most dreadful accident.’
Slowly Eduardo withdrew his hands from Marianne’s face. He had no desire to ruin what had started out as a beautiful morning by confronting the terrible event that still haunted him and had left him a near cripple—yet he had made a vow to himself to be totally frank with Marianne. After the gift she had given him last night, she at least deserved to know how he had sustained his injury.
‘It was. The worst day of my life.’ He winced.
‘Will you—can you tell me about it?’ she probed gently.
He nodded. ‘Yes—I will tell you.’ Reaching for Marianne’s hand, he examined it for a moment before continuing. ‘It was late at night, and we were returning home from a party.’
‘We…?’
Meeting her speculative glance, Eduardo steeled himself. Her sultry warm scent penetrated the air around him just then, and he almost suggested they forgot about the past and just enjoyed what they had right now. But to his credit he did not. With new resolve, he carried on relating the story.
‘My wife Eliana was with me. She was driving. I had bought her a new sports car for her birthday—she had a thing for fast cars, and she had insisted that we take it to the party. I drove on the way there, to help go through the controls with her and give her some tips on how best to handle it. It was a powerful model that she had desired for ages. I’d had my doubts about buying it for her, but somehow I ended up doing just that.’
Unable to suppress the flash of guilt that jolted through him whenever he recalled Eliana pleading with him to let her have the car, knowing that he should not have allowed her to drive it until she had had more experience with it, Eduardo winced. There was a momentary ache behind his eyes.
‘Anyway…when it was time for us to return home, she insisted I let her drive. Everything was fine until we were about ten minutes from our house.’ Swallowing hard over what felt like dozens of tiny hot prickles layering his throat, he grimaced. ‘There was a patch of oil on the road and the car spun out of control. I yelled at Eliana, to tell her what to do, and leaned across to help. But she was screaming in fright—her hands practically frozen on the steering wheel. It all happened so fast. We were on a mountain road and we hit a barrier at speed. She was killed outright. I lost consciousness. When I briefly woke up it was to find myself in the emergency room at the hospital, being prepared to be taken down to the operating theatre.’
‘And after the operation—that’s when they told you about your wife?’
‘Yes.’ Eduardo sighed.
With a distressed sound, Marianne laid her hand on his arm, gently stroking it over his skin, her eyes shimmering. ‘It must have been awful for you to lose someone you loved very much so suddenly like that—and in such a terrible way.’
‘Yes. There was a time when we were closer than close, but…’
‘But what?’
‘I—it doesn’t matter right now. What matters right now is you and I, namorada. I am tired of dwelling on the past. Today is a new day, and I have enjoyed the most satisfactory of nights…in more ways than one. That being the case, I want to enjoy the day equally as satisfactorily.’
The glance he gave Marianne was full of meaning. But at that exact moment there was the sound of a car coming up the drive, followed by the front door closing.
‘Ricardo,’ Eduardo identified, tunnelling his fingers through his already sleep-dishevelled hair. He looked over at her ruefully. ‘He must have returned from his trip. I will have to see him for a few moments.’
‘Well, then…I’d better get back to my room and take a shower before I see to break fast.’
‘I will talk to Ricardo down stairs in the sitting room. Give me a couple of minutes, then you can leave—yes?’
‘All right.’
Quickly dressing, Eduardo sensed Marianne’s avid gaze on him. Briefly, and perhaps vainly, he wished that his body was as it had been before the accident…when he had taken much pride and pleasure in the supreme level of fitness he had achieved through running on the beach, swimming, surfing and working out in his own private gymnasium. How did Marianne perceive him as he was now? he wondered. Did she see a still vital and fit man in his prime, or did she see a man who had too easily succumbed to uninterest and despair about his future because of the physical ravages and mental agony suffered after his accident? Then he remembered what she had said about age and looks or any of that not being important—it was the person that mattered, none of the rest.
Eduardo wished no more interruptions were possible—either from distressing memories of the past or someone needing his attention. Because what he wanted more than anything else in the world right then was to spend the day alone with Marianne—to keep her preoccupied and tangled in his silken sheets, to make wild passionate love to her until, sated and sleepy, once again she fell asleep in his arms…
Glad that she had the distraction of several house hold tasks to occupy her, Marianne still had to try hard not to keep glancing at the time on her watch as she worked. In her heart she longed to keep the flame of the in credible intimacy she had shared last night with Eduardo burning, and she literally ached for his presence and for him to hold her again. But he and his valet had been ensconced in the sitting room for quite some time now, and only once during all that time had her lover come to find her, to request she make them some coffee. When she had taken the carafe to where they sat, along with two mugs and a plate of home-made short bread, he had barely even glanced up to acknowledge her. She had slipped quietly out of the room again, oddly hurt that he seemed too preoccupied to give her so much as a smile.
But Marianne had every intention of holding true to the vow she’d made. She wouldn’t regret a thing, she reminded herself. Even if she did become just another in a long line of women reaching back through the ages who had loved and lost the man they had given their heart to. She gasped softly as the idea crystallised in her mind. She didn’t love Eduardo…she couldn’t! She must be delirious or something. After her father had walked out and Donal had died she’d sworn to keep such a guard round her heart that no man would ever again penetrate it. In the matter of self-preservation she must and would adhere to that vow.
Just because she’d surrendered her virginity to Eduardo, it didn’t mean that she loved him. Events were merely making her get a little carried away, that was all.
Seeking to drown out her troubled thoughts, she switched on the radio. Letting the mellifluous voice of the female presenter announcing the afternoon’s programmes flow over her, she prayed that the upcoming offering of the play of the day—a gothic ghost story—would help distract her mind sufficiently to stop it from dwelling on one subject and one subject only as she worked…Eduardo.
Only seconds later, whilst examining the contents of the huge double-doored fridge to see what she could prepare for lunch, Marianne closed the door on her task, her thoughts ensnared by the remembered revelation that Eduardo had been married, and that his wife had been killed outright in the accident that had maimed him.
There had been something else he had almost shared with her about his wife, she recalled, frowning. There had been a time when they were closer than close, he had said…That suggested that they had been no longer close at the time of the accident. Why? Had the marriage hit difficulty? Had one of them perhaps had an affair? What if it had been Eduardo? A wave of painful protest swept through her. He was such a vital, good-looking man. If his marriage had been on the rocks there surely would have been no dearth of interested women to console him?
Marianne groaned out loud, as if the sound itself could push the distressing thought away. For she could no longer fool herself about the truth… She had fallen as hard as it was possible to fall for this man, and if he was bereft of the ability to stay faithful then she couldn’t possibly involve herself with him any further. In the past she had had a good friend whose husband had had an affair, and she had witnessed first-hand the destruction it had wreaked. Most of all the massive dent in self-esteem and personal worth that her friend had suffered, making her lose confidence in practically every area of her life and struggle to get through the day. Marianne had already experienced low self-worth and a lack of confidence, and she had no intention of revisiting either ever again…
‘So this is where you are!’
At the sound of the man whose image had possessed her to the exclusion of all else that morning, Marianne turned. Dressed in a fresh blue linen shirt and jeans that snugly fitted his long muscular legs, with Cuban-heeled black boots, he was the kind of arresting sight that would wring a sigh of longing from any girl of sixteen to a woman of sixty and every age in between.
Almost overcome by her great yearning to be close to him again Marianne leapt upon his inference that she must have been hiding—purely because she was feeling suddenly insecure.
‘I think you’ll find that I’ve been here the whole time you and Ricardo have been talking. Where else would I be, when there’s lunch to prepare and dinner tonight too? I’ve already got up much later than I should have!’
‘Do you think I want to make you a slave to the kitchen sink, namorada? Because, if you think I do, let me assure you that is certainly not my aim.’
Moving behind her as Marianne stood at the sink, where she’d been rinsing empty fruit cartons for the recycling bin, he slipped his arms round her waist and nuzzled her neck. The heat that shot through her made her feel like hot wax melting under a flame. It was all she could do to bite back the groan that threatened to leave her throat.
‘However, I make no apology for having a hot little fantasy about seeing you standing here wearing nothing but an apron, perhaps a pair of high heels, and not much else!’
‘Eduardo!’
‘Yes?’
Turning in his arms to face him, Marianne steeled herself for the impact of his in credible blue eyes. It wasn’t easy when she was already under siege from the intimate proximity of his body, as well as his admitted fantasy about her.
‘Do you and Ricardo want something to eat? You’ve only had coffee and biscuits. You must both be hungry.’
Eduardo sighed, but not with exasperation. Instead the most beguiling enigmatic smile alighted on his well-shaped mouth and he impelled her closer, so that the heat from his denim-clad thighs seared into hers and Marianne’s stomach was level with his lean hard hips. Feeling her defences frighteningly desert her, she stared up at him a little wild-eyed.
‘You are always taking care of every body else, little one,’ he murmured, before bending his head and touching his lips provocatively to hers. ‘What about allowing me to take care of you for a while, hmm?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘While he was away in London, Ricardo heard from his family in Rio. His mother is very ill and is in the hospital.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Naturally he wants to go home to see her. As the severity of her illness is still unknown, and she has to undergo various tests, he will be staying there in de finitely. That means that you and I will be here together…alone. These past few days I have been feeling so much better having you around, Marianne…better than I ever could have believed possible. I think it will be good for us both to have the opportunity to get to know each other even more. Don’t you?’
The days following Ricardo’s departure for Rio would be etched on Marianne’s memory for ever. She was no longer simply Eduardo’s house keeper but his lover, and to her utmost joy she had become his good friend too. The snow started to melt but the cold still bit hard—so they shared many conversations round the fire, talking about books, films, art, the state of the world—everything. It was a revelation to them both that they shared so many similar opinions. And when Marianne did differ from Eduardo she was not afraid to tell him so. She even gently mocked him some times for being old-fashioned, when it transpired that he wasn’t the biggest fan of a lot of modern technology, believing it to be distracting and the benefits spurious, not to mention with the ability to suffocate imagination.
The close ness and companion ship that had evolved between them—as well as the un for get table nights they shared together in bed—helped her self-confidence soar—and, if Marianne was honest, her hopes for the future soared too.
One afternoon she was in the kitchen, preparing a special evening meal for them, with a good bottle of wine from Eduardo’s selective cellar and candlelight, when she heard him enter the room behind her.
‘Hi.’ She smiled warmly, glancing up from the chopping board and wiping her eyes. ‘Don’t worry—I’m not crying. I’ve been peeling onions.’
Reaching her, Eduardo took the small vegetable knife out of her hand and laid it down on the worktop. ‘Can we talk?’ His thoughtful gaze made its usual intense reconnaissance of her features.
‘Sure…what’s up?’
‘I have decided that I have had enough of the British winter and I greatly desire to go back to Brazil for a while. I plan to shut up the house and go in the next couple of days. To tell you the truth I have become quite homesick, Marianne.’
‘So what are you saying?’ Consumed suddenly by disappointment, and hurt at hearing this news, Marianne stared up at him in shock. ‘That you want me to leave and find a job some where else?’
‘Are you crazy? Just the opposite, in fact. I want you to return to Rio with me.’
‘As what? A companion and house keeper?’
It was not possible for Marianne to sort out the confusing profusion of feelings that seized her just then, but she knew that fear was predominant amongst them. Fear that the wonderful close ness developing between them would quickly take second place once he returned to his homeland, and to friends and family she didn’t know but who had obviously known his wife.
Perturbed by her question, Eduardo frowned. ‘As my lover and the woman I am having a relationship with,’ he said firmly, drawing her into his arms. ‘Is it not obvious that we have long gone past the employer/employee scenario?’
‘And how am I to keep myself if I no longer have a job?’
‘Do you really need to ask me that? I will look after you, Marianne. You will not have to worry about anything.’
Because Marianne suddenly felt cornered, she tried to break out of his embrace. But Eduardo held her fast, apparently determined to get to the bottom of her disquiet.
‘Would you not welcome the chance of some hot sun and a little pampering for a change, instead of all the difficulty and sadness you have endured?’
Feeling her eyes burn with the effort not to cry, Marianne sniffed. So used to managing on her own—at least until those six gentle months with her dying husband—she could some times be unraveled when someone expressed kindness or thoughtfulness towards her, as Eduardo was doing now. What would he say if he guessed that she wanted to be so much more than just an intimate companion to him?
Because her senses were suddenly raw, she went for attack instead of defence. ‘Maybe it was wrong that we slept together. I came here because I needed a job and a home…not a holiday or someone to take care of me! Don’t get me wrong—I’m totally happy for you to go back to Brazil and be where you belong again, Eduardo…amongst friends and perhaps other members of your family…but I really don’t know if I can go with you.’
‘No? What is it that is really holding you back Marianne? It is not as though you have any ties here to prevent you leaving, is it? You said yourself that you have not seen your father for years and do not even know where he is. And, although you insist that you still need a job and a home, we are in a relationship now. I have already told you that I want to take care of you, and you will not want for anything if you come back to Brazil with me!’
‘For how long?’ Her voice sounded as though it was about to break as she gazed back into those almost ethereal blue eyes.
The broad shoulders in the pristine blue shirt lifted in a shrug. ‘How do any of us know how long our relationships will last, namorada? We enter into them in good faith at the beginning, but some times life takes too great a toll. Look at what happened to me, and then look at what happened to you. All we can do is take one day at a time…is that not so?’
Lifting her chin, Marianne saw Eduardo’s glance was both wise and tender, and she found herself wondering how she could possibly spend even one more day with this in credible man without pledging her love to him for ever?