The Forbidden Cabrera Brother
Autor
Cathy Williams
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CHAPTER ONE
SOMETHING, DANTE THOUGHT as he nursed his whisky and stared out at the floodlit manicured gardens that comprised the grounds of his Spanish estate, wasn’t making sense.
Behind him he could hear the muffled sound of voices and laughter—all those people, from dignitaries to old family friends, who had gathered to welcome Alejandro, his older brother by four years, and his fiancée.
It was a star-studded event, even though it had been arranged at fairly short notice. Such was the long arm of the Cabrera family’s influence that an invitation from them—especially, Dante recognised, one that would be hosted at his own sprawling mansion—pretty much guaranteed attendance.
Intricate lanterns twinkled up the long winding private avenue that led to his house. Behind him, on a warm summer night, the bank of French doors at the back of his house had been flung open wide to a vision of exactly what extreme wealth could get. The serving staff on high alert for empty glasses, the blaze of yet more lanterns adorning the strategically placed trees and illuminating the still splendour of his infinity pool, the massive ice sculpture of a couple, which his mother had insisted on having. And, of course, the very elegant, barely noticeable and extremely expensive trio of violinists providing subtle background music. Here, in this setting, the women in their high-designer elegance and the men, formally dressed, were birds of paradise at home in a setting with which they were largely familiar.
His parents, naturally, were bristling with excitement at meeting a woman who, as far as they were concerned, was roughly five years overdue. Tradition was tradition and, as the eldest in the family and now in his mid-thirties, Alejandro should have been duly wed and well on the way to producing an heir or two to the throne.
The vast fortunes tied up with the Cabrera name needed to be kept in the family and Roberto and Isabella Cabrera had been making noises about grandchildren for some time now. How else could the family lineage remain intact if both their sons decided that playing the field was a far better option than settling down to the rigours of domestic life?
Dante was as keen as his parents were for Alejandro to get married and have kids because if he didn’t, then it wouldn’t be long before their parents began looking to Dante to do his duty in that area and he most certainly wasn’t up for that.
So when Alejandro had phoned three weeks ago with the happy tidings that he was engaged, it had been champagne all round, a suitably lavish engagement party hastily arranged and expectations running high.
One small snag, though, was the fiancée.
Where the hell was she?
Shouldn’t the loving couple have arrived together? Holding hands and staring into each other’s eyes with undisguised adoration? It wasn’t as though they had been dating for years and had had time to settle into the comfortable routine of taking one another for granted. Oh, no, the fiancée had been produced like a white rabbit from a magician’s hat, so young love should still be fresh enough for the woman to have accompanied Alejandro to the opulent engagement party happening inside.
Except, she hadn’t and—Dante glanced at his watch before swallowing the remainder of the whisky—it was a mere two hours before the elaborate buffet was set out and the speeches began. Half an acre of lawn had been meticulously roped off so that tables could be laid out with no small detail spared, from the linen cloths to the magnificent arrangements of red roses, as befitting a couple in love. The seating was casual because it was a party, and yet it still managed to feel incredibly formal in its opulence.
He wondered whether the mysterious bride-to-be would deign to make an appearance in time or whether his brother would have to mumble his apologies while the guests tucked into finest prepared rib of roast suckling pig in the absence of his fiancée. Certainly, Alejandro was strangely phlegmatic about the woman’s appalling lack of manners. Maybe he had become a little too accustomed to the behaviour of a high-maintenance woman who felt that drama was some kind of selling point. Dante wryly thought that he had encountered a few of those himself.
He was about to turn away and head back into the sitting room, where champagne and canapés would be in full flow, when something caught his eye. In the twilight gloom, he glimpsed movement up the winding tree-lined private avenue that led to the courtyard in front of the house.
Standing still, he squinted and there it was again, a movement barely glimpsed between the trees.
He dumped his glass on the broad concrete ledge, straightened up and headed down the sweeping arc of stone steps that descended gracefully towards the open courtyard and then out towards the drive.
Caitlin could barely see. Up ahead, the lawns and a mansion of unseemly proportions were illuminated by the sort of floodlit extravaganza that could be seen from space. Here, as she half ran up the tree-lined avenue leading to the house, the path dipped in and out of the shadows. Any minute now and her already nightmarish trip would be compounded by an even more nightmarish ending, which would involve her tripping over something, breaking her ankle and having to be carried ignominiously into the house on a makeshift stretcher.
Everything had gone wrong, starting with her mother sobbing down the end of the phone just as she was supposed to be leaving for the airport, and ending with the taxi, booked by Alejandro to fetch her from the airport and deliver her to her own engagement party, for heaven’s sake, getting a flat tyre just when she didn’t need it.
Now, three hours late, she’d decided that creeping into the house and at least having the option of getting ready somewhere private was far the more sensible choice, rather than the screech of a taxi alerting everyone to her lateness.
She shuddered at the thought of all those assembled guests piling out of the front door to witness her dishevelled appearance. In his understated way, Alejandro had warned her that it was going to be something of a bash—which, in Alejandro-speak, meant that there would be ten thousand people there, all waiting for her arrival.
As luck would have it, Alejandro was, as always, nowhere near his mobile phone and her quiet entry through a side door somewhere was disappearing with each reluctant step forward. She’d tried calling him a dozen times and every single time it had gone to voicemail and she was fed up of leaving increasingly despairing messages.
They were supposed to be in love! In the real world, he would be hanging on the end of the line, worried sick about where she was!
Caitlin thought of him and couldn’t help but smile because that was just Alejandro. He would have dumped his phone on a random table somewhere and would have to be reminded that she still hadn’t arrived, which was something of a big deal because the engagement party his parents had arranged had been for both of them.
Not for the first time, she felt a twinge of intense discomfort at this story they had concocted. Back in London, it had seemed almost inevitable because it had satisfied so many disparate concerns, but here...
She stopped in her tracks to catch her breath and gazed at the mansion towering ahead of her, ablaze with lights. The courtyard was massive, as big as a football field, and it was crammed with high-end cars of every description. They were parked at haphazard angles but, when she squinted, she could make out two men in uniform and she guessed that they would be in charge of parking so that any of the luxury cars could be moved at the snap of a finger. She shivered with apprehension.
This was reality now. They weren’t in London any longer. They weren’t sharing their sob stories over a bottle of wine. A plan had been made and she had temporarily turned a blind eye to the fact that plans made in one country appeared completely different when viewed in another.
Posing as Alejandro’s fiancée had been the answer to both their problems and, in London, that solution had seemed a logical conclusion.
But here...
With the sounds of summer insects around her and the grandeur of a sprawling house reminding her that this was where a simple game was always going to lead...
Her heart raced and she half looked over her shoulder with an instinctive urge to run away.
About to speed-dial Alejandro for the umpteenth time, she was only aware of a man stepping out of the shadows when he was practically on top of her and she didn’t stop to think before taking action. It had been drummed into her by her parents the minute she decided to leave Ireland for the streets of London that it didn’t pay to trust anyone. London, they had intoned worriedly, was a dangerous place. Accordingly, Caitlin had learned the basics of self-defence and now those ten lessons at the local town hall once a week coalesced into a blood-curdling shriek as she swung her holdall at the looming figure, striking a direct hit against his shoulder.
She had been aiming for his head, but the man was tall, way taller than her five foot three. She snapped her hands into action and eyed him narrowly for a few seconds as she debated which manoeuvre to take.
If only she were taller! Leaner! Stronger! Instead, she was short, round and it was dawning on her at speed that she probably wasn’t going to land any significant punches because this stranger was built like a house.
She grasped her holdall tightly and took the next most sensible option, which was flight.
She didn’t get far. One minute, she was half running and panting with her eyes pinned to the mansion in the distance. The next minute, a vice-like grip was holding her back, at which point she spun round and kicked.
‘What the...?’ Dante demanded, holding her at arm’s length as she struggled and tried to sling punches at him.
‘Get off me!’
‘Stop trying to kick me!’
‘Stop trying to attack me! You have no idea who you’re dealing with! I... I’m an expert in martial arts!’
Dante released her. He was temporarily stunned into silence. He couldn’t quite make her out because it was dark, but he could see enough to realise that the pint-sized spitfire rubbing her arm was about as expert in martial arts as he was in ballet dancing.
‘I don’t know who you are,’ Caitlin gritted, backing away just in case he decided to lunge at her, ‘but if you don’t clear off, I’m going to make sure that the police are contacted as soon as I get to...’ she nodded brusquely at the house, which should have been a lot closer considering how far she’d walked but still seemed a hundred miles away ‘...that house you can see up there.’
‘You’re going up there? Why?’
‘That’s none of your business.’ She spun round and began walking as fast as she could towards her destination. If the guy lurking in the grounds was up to no good, then he had obviously realised that she didn’t make a good candidate to be robbed. One glance at her dress code would have given the game away. Long flowered skirt, sensible shoes, her favourite flowing blouse over which, because it was cool even though it was summer, she was prudently wearing a cardigan...not a diamond in sight.
She clasped her holdall ever tighter, because you never knew... She didn’t want to look at him, even though her skin tingled because he had fallen into step alongside her. She had no intention of making eye contact.
‘It might be.’ Dante had always had the knack of making people stop dead in their tracks without raising his voice and, on cue, she stopped.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Engagement party? Alejandro? Name ring bells?’ He folded his arms and stood perfectly, watchfully still.
Caitlin turned to the stranger. They had progressed out of the shadowy overhang of trees, into more light, and she could make him out far more clearly and suddenly her mouth went dry and her nervous system seemed to temporarily forget what it was meant to do.
He had stepped back and she saw he was dressed for—yes, an engagement party. Black trousers, white shirt with the top couple of buttons undone as though he couldn’t be bothered with a formal dress code, no tie. He’d shoved his hands in his pockets, dragging down the trousers ever so slightly, and that seemed to emphasise the perfection of his muscular frame.
Her breathing went from fast to slow and back to fast in record time. She blinked, confused at a reaction that was so out of keeping with the person she knew herself to be.
When she met his eyes, she had to try to ignore the impact of a perfectly chiselled face. The man oozed sex appeal. He was also ever so slightly familiar, but she knew that she would remember him if she’d ever met him, or even laid eyes on him. He was not a man anyone could meet and forget.
‘You’re here for the engagement party, as well.’ She finally found her voice and then, because she was irritated with herself for being thrown by him, she belatedly added, ‘In which case why are you lurking in the grounds and jumping out at perfect strangers?’
She began walking, once more, in the direction of the house. Time was of the essence at this point and she couldn’t waste any more of it chatting to someone who made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
But this time her awareness of him, once again falling into step alongside her, was acute. She could feel the rasp of her breathing, and the shadow he cast as the winding tree-lined avenue became ever more brightly lit sent shivers racing up and down her spine.
Only when she was standing to the side, with the massive edifice of the house in front of her, did she stop to take stock, at which point she tried Alejandro’s number once again. She felt sick and out of her depth. She’d always known that Alejandro came from a wealthy background, but to be thrust into the very vortex of it, as she was now, made her stomach clench.
The cars that filled the vast courtyard gleamed with the patina of priceless machinery. Up close, the house, brightly lit, was beyond impressive and the distant thrum of noise was a sick reminder that the part she had undertaken to play was not going to be an easy one.
Predictably, Alejandro failed to respond.
‘Problems?’
‘Why are you still here?’ Her voice was laced with agitation.
‘I thought I’d personally escort you to the premises,’ Dante said.
‘Don’t you believe that I’m a legitimate guest?’
At that, Dante inspected her with leisurely thoroughness, his dark eyes roving from the tips of her toes, along her body and finally coming to rest on her scarlet face.
She had gone into attack mode from the second he had surprised her and she was still in it. If she was a guest, then she was a highly unlikely guest.
‘Are you? Because you don’t seem to be dressed for the part.’
At that, Caitlin reddened even more. Her parents had always made a point of telling her that she was beautiful, inside and out, but parents were notoriously partisan and she had always been sensitive about her looks. She’d stopped longing to be five inches taller and fifteen pounds lighter, a leggy brunette free from the curse of freckles and hair the most skilled hairdresser would have found impossible to tame, but right now...
With this impossibly sexy and perfect guy lounging in front of her and staring with just the hint of a condescending smile on his face...
‘I have clothes in here,’ she said coldly, indicating her holdall with a curt nod. ‘And in case you’re in any doubt that I actually have been invited to this engagement party, I should tell you that I happen to be the...er... Alejandro’s fiancée.’ It wasn’t a declaration that rolled easily off the tongue. Downright lies seldom did.
Dante said nothing. He was too stunned to speak.
‘I’m running a bit late...ah...anyway...’
‘Alejandro’s fiancée?’ He found his voice. He was seldom thrown, but this time he was.
‘There’s no need to sound so incredulous.’ There was, actually, every need. Not even she, with her imagination going full pelt, found it easy to believe that she could possibly be Alejandro’s fiancée. They came from such different worlds. Whatever his back story and however close they had become over time, he was Spanish nobility and it was there in the way he held himself and his casual disregard for money. He could do as he pleased, even if he was funny and caring and considerate, which always left you with the illusion that he couldn’t buy the world, which he could. Somehow, you always expected the super rich to run roughshod over people and Alejandro completely disproved that theory. That, of course, was one of the reasons why she absolutely adored him.
They were also so different to look at. She was pale, with freckles and green eyes and copper-coloured hair. He was swarthy and dark-haired. They were both short, though, and plump and she felt wonderfully comfortable with him.
‘Miss Walsh?’
‘Caitlin. Look, I can’t hang around here chatting to you. I have to...’ She squinted at the imposing edifice of the house and tried to work out a possible side entrance through which she could sneak, although heaven only knew what she would do if and when she did enter the house if Alejandro was still missing in action. Fumble her way to the downstairs loo so that she could change into her finery? Hope that she didn’t trip over anyone in the process?
So poorly conceived all of this, a plan born on the spur of the moment without much thought being given to the technical detail. It was just as well that once this engagement party was over and done with, they would both return to London where life would carry on as normal.
She pulled her long, tumbling hair over her shoulder and fiddled with it while she tried to work out various house-entry options.
‘You were saying...’ Dante prompted.
Caitlin looked at Dante and shivered again. The guy had the strangest effect on her. Since when had she ever gone for the brooding Alpha-male type? She’d learned long ago to steer clear of those sorts.
Besides, men this good-looking were always far too fond of themselves for her liking. And as a postscript, she belatedly thought, she was engaged. Or at least, for all intents and purposes she was engaged. Which amounted to the same thing.
‘As you mentioned,’ she conceded, ‘I’m not exactly dressed the part and I can’t get hold of Alejandro. He’s terrible when it comes to his mobile phone. It never seems to be on him.’
‘I’m surprised he isn’t scouring the four corners in search of his errant bride-to-be,’ Dante murmured.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Shouldn’t he be out looking for you? If you haven’t been able to get hold of him to warn him of your late arrival?’
‘Oh, right. Yes. I see where you’re going with that,’ Caitlin mumbled. ‘He... We are quite relaxed with one another when it comes to stuff like that.’
‘What a novel approach to a serious relationship.’
‘I need to change into my glad rags.’ Something about the man’s tone of voice triggered a wave of unfocused apprehension in her. ‘And you never introduced yourself. You are...?’
She paused and stilled him with her hand. Her eyes met his questioningly.
For a couple of seconds, Dante’s cool, rational mind seemed to shut down, then he drew back and returned her wide-eyed gaze narrowly.
‘Do you know the layout of the house?’ He smoothly changed the conversation, while at the same time politely removing her hand and hustling her between the cars and past the uniformed valets standing to attention outside.
Was this his brother’s fiancée? Dante couldn’t quite believe it, but then how was he to know what sort of woman his brother liked? He had never met any of Alejandro’s girlfriends. Different countries, awkward schedules, fleeting meetings over snatched drinks in random bars. He and his brother had long mastered the art of saying absolutely nothing of any genuine importance to one another.
That said, Dante had always assumed that his brother would go for the same kind of women he did, refined thoroughbreds who moved in the same social circles as they did. When Dante thought about those women, he felt a certain amount of boredom, but the one thing he knew about them, and it was very important, was the fact that they were all independently wealthy. Largely they came from families who, if not in the same category as his, were in a similar ballpark. No gold-diggers and, from bitter experience, he knew that gold-diggers were a breed best avoided.
A memory pushed its way to the surface. He’d lost his heart once, at the tender age of nineteen, to a woman ten years older who had played him so well that he had ended up handing over wads of cash to her. A small fortune. He’d fallen for a tale of a broken marriage and a violent ex and a vulnerable toddler. She had been poor but still touchingly hopeful in the face of personal tragedies, desperate for a new start yet tentative about accepting anything from him, which had made him insist on giving her even more, and of course so breathtakingly beautiful that common sense had been quickly abandoned to a raging libido hooked on the thrill of the unknown. It had been wildly exciting after his tame diet of beautiful, predictable young socialites and privately educated heiresses. When he reflected on what might have been had he not caught her in bed with the father of her child, no less, he was filled with shame at his own stupidity, but every mistake taught a valuable lesson and he had never again strayed from what he knew. Rich, beautiful, well bred. Known territory. If they were self-absorbed and sometimes shallow, then that was a price he was willing to pay.
Caitlin Walsh was not known territory...and while he might have the nous to know how to handle any woman who wasn’t known territory, did his brother?
A broken heart, Dante figured, was no bad thing. It made you stronger. But his brother was engaged, and once rings had been exchanged a broken heart wouldn’t be the only thing to deal with. The family fortune had to be protected and Dante had no intention of letting that out of his sight.
If Alejandro was taken in by Caitlin Walsh, then Dante saw no reason why he couldn’t do a bit of probing of his own, for no other reason than to make sure Alejandro wasn’t about to make the biggest mistake of his life.
Wasn’t that what brotherly love was all about?
‘I’ve never been to the house before,’ Caitlin responded tartly, ‘so it would be impossible for me to know the layout. I had hoped that Alejandro...’
‘It’s his engagement party. He’s probably busy entertaining the troops. You’re in luck, though. I happen to know the place very well. You might say that I know it like the back of my hand.’
Caitlin stopped and stared at him with undisguised relief. ‘Would you mind...? I need to change and I would rather not...’ She made a vague gesture to encompass her state of dress. ‘I should have got here ages ago...but with one thing and another... If you know the house, I would really appreciate it if you could maybe...’
‘Sneak you in so that you can change into your finery?’ Dante stood back and looked at her from the towering height of his six feet two inches. The holdall was quite small for finery. ‘Why would I do that when I’ve been accused of attacking you?’
‘You surprised me. Naturally I reacted accordingly.’ Caitlin’s voice was stiff.
‘You could have caused me permanent damage,’ Dante inserted smoothly, ‘what with you being an expert in martial arts.’ Silence greeted this remark. He could see that she was itching to launch a few verbal missiles. His antennae were still on red alert, but the woman was in a league of her own, and what had promised to be something of a tedious social occasion was looking up. When you were someone who could always call the shots, a little bit of different went a long way. He was beginning to enjoy this little bit of different...
‘Fortunately,’ he carried on magnanimously, ‘I am not a man to bear a grudge and I would be delighted to secrete you away somewhere private where you can freshen up.’
‘I don’t know how to thank you,’ Caitlin said, in a voice that was far from oozing gratitude.
Dante said nothing but, just for a second, something weird and strong raced through him, heating his blood and tightening his groin. He spun round on his heels and began heading towards the side of the house, away from the brightly lit entrance.
‘You’ll have to be quick,’ he said, slowing briefly so that she could catch up with him. ‘The party’s in full swing. The longer you take, the more dramatic the reception is going to be.’ He glanced at her. The braid was not quite enough to keep her fiery hair in order and wisps floated around her cheeks. She was flushed and breathing fast. His eyes dropped to breasts that were more than a handful. Small-statured and large-breasted.
Infuriated by the sudden lapse of self-control, he stiffened. If the woman was up to no good then he intended to find out before the situation became financially messy, but she was engaged to his brother and he wasn’t going to forget that. Forbidden thoughts would be culled before they could start interfering with what had to be done, and in very little time because if she had angled for a profitable engagement then she wasn’t going to hang around waiting for the wedding ring to seal the deal.
He took her to one of the many spare bedrooms. Each and every one was permanently prepared to a high state of readiness although it was rare for guests to stay overnight. Dante loathed that sort of thing and, indeed, the only time the vast mansion saw an influx of people was when he happened to be away and it was lent out to friends or family members. He valued his privacy far too much.
‘Make yourself at home,’ he drawled as she stood still and looked all around her. ‘I’ll wait outside for you. You won’t know how to find your way down to where the action is.’
As she was busy appreciating a level of luxury she had never seen in her life before, it was a few seconds before Caitlin responded, then she eyed her holdall.
‘I’m sure I’ll manage,’ she said dubiously.
‘I’ll wait.’
‘Why?’
Dante felt a twinge of guilt. He needed to get a feel for her, work out if his suspicions were well founded, and time wasn’t going to be on his side. His intentions could not exactly be called noble and something fleeting in her eyes, an expression of helpless, vulnerable apprehension, made him flush darkly.
‘Call it good manners,’ he said brusquely.
‘Okay.’ She hesitated, then smiled tentatively. ‘I might need a bit of moral support. I’m not accustomed to...events like this... When Alejandro and I...’ She reddened.
‘When you and Alejandro...?’
‘I knew there was going to be a party,’ she said hurriedly, ‘but I had no idea that it would be on this scale.’
‘Alejandro comes from an extremely high-ranking family,’ Dante murmured, his keen eyes taking in everything, missing nothing. ‘With more notice, it would have been even bigger. As it stands, two hundred is reasonably well contained.’
‘I... The cars parked outside...’ She sighed. ‘I’m not sure I’ve brought the right clothes...’
Dante thought of the women milling around downstairs, dressed to kill and dripping in diamonds. He noted her anxious expression and reminded himself that the most efficient gold-digger would always be the one the least obvious. His lips thinned because he knew that better than most.
‘I’m sure you’ll...fit in just fine...’
‘You haven’t seen my outfit.’ Caitlin grinned and met his veiled gaze with a roll of her eyes. ‘Once you have, feel free to change your mind. I just didn’t think...’
‘You just didn’t think...?’
‘That it would be quite like this, like I said,’ she told him honestly. ‘I never thought that the place would be so...lavish.’
‘Yet you knew that your fiancé came from a wealthy family...’
‘Yes, of course, but... It doesn’t matter. I’m here now so there’s not much I can do about... What you can’t change you might as well accept, and I definitely can’t change the outfit I brought over with me. Anyway... I’m going to get ready so if you don’t mind? I won’t be long.’
He gave it forty minutes at the very least. Longer if something had to be done about her hair. She was so unexpected and novel an entity that he literally couldn’t imagine what the transformation would be like and it annoyed him that he couldn’t resist letting his imagination break its leash and run away. He responded to that by lounging against the wall, flipping open his phone and scrolling through work emails.
He was settling in for the long haul when the bedroom door was pulled open and out she breezed, all of a fluster.
He pushed himself from the wall and slowly moved to stand directly in front of her.
‘That was quick.’
She looked...amazing. Gone was the fashion-disaster outfit she had been wearing. In its place was a figure-hugging jade-green dress that lovingly emphasised each and every delectable curve of her small but insanely feminine body.
The sight of it made Dante stiffen as he acknowledged, once again, just how inappropriate his reaction was.
‘I forgot the diamonds at home.’ There was a nervous edge to her voice and she fiddled with the thin gold chain around her neck, a sixteenth birthday present from her parents.
‘I doubt anyone will notice the oversight,’ Dante murmured. She was playing with a thin necklace round her neck and his dark eyes zeroed in on her slender fingers and then on the shadowy cleft between her breasts. He gritted his teeth and quickly looked away.
‘It’s kind of you to say so.’ She fell into step with him, taking it slowly because the heels were stupidly high and falling was a distinct possibility.
‘I doubt anyone has ever called me kind. How did you and Alejandro meet?’ Dante realised that he had asked very few basic questions about the relationship that had materialised out of thin air. ‘We were all...a little surprised by the speed of the relationship...’
Dante barely noticed the endless miles of corridor along which they were walking, although he was keenly aware of her wide-eyed awe. Telling but hardly surprising if there was an agenda to the fifteen-second relationship, he thought wryly. To one side, ornate wrought-iron railings offered a view of acres of marble on the ground floor and white walls on which were hung huge statement pieces of abstract art. An enormous crystal chandelier, as delicate as a waterfall, dominated the vaulted ceiling, dropping five metres down to the central hallway, which was manned by several uniformed men and which they had successfully avoided.
‘We go back a way,’ Caitlin said vaguely.
‘He’s never mentioned having a serious girlfriend in the past.’
‘We were...er...friends...before...’ Slanted green eyes collided with dark, coolly thoughtful ones. ‘You still haven’t told me who you are. I guess you must know Alejandro and his brother really well considering you’re so familiar with this house. It’s pretty amazing, isn’t it?’
‘Admittedly,’ Dante murmured, completely ignoring her question, ‘he hasn’t let on much about anyone there in London.’
The noise was increasing in volume and then they exited into the massive hall manned by the uniformed guards, who half bowed but were clearly trained to remain in the background. The paintings here were more traditional, less abstract and more impressionistic.
Caitlin was drawn like a magnet towards one of them and inspected it minutely, lost for a few moments in the exquisite mix of colours and recognising the somewhat obscure artist behind it. It was the artwork of a connoisseur.
‘It’s a lovely piece.’ She turned to Dante, her eyes gleaming with appreciation.
‘You know about art?’ Dante raised both eyebrows questioningly.
‘Why shouldn’t I?’ Caitlin stood back. ‘I’m a photographer but I studied art at college. I probably know a lot more than Alejandro’s brother, even though he owns this house. I’ll bet he hasn’t got a clue who this artist is.’
‘Why would you say that?’ Dante asked silkily.
‘He’s a businessman,’ she said with a shrug. ‘I gather making money is his number one priority. I’d say that if that’s the case, then he’s probably commissioned someone to bulk-buy a fortune’s worth of valuable artwork that will do its job and appreciate over the years and make him yet more money.’
‘That’s quite a statement,’ Dante murmured. ‘You must have gleaned that impression from somewhere... Is that what his brother has told you?’
‘Of course not!’ She cleared her throat. ‘Alejandro never has a judgemental word to say about anyone. Not that I’m being judgemental...just expressing an opinion...’
‘But surely you would be partisan, considering you’re his besotted better half?’ Dante was outraged that a woman who had catapulted herself into the centre of their family, for reasons that were open to a lot of question, should dare insult him in his own house. Actually, should dare insult him, full stop.
‘Sorry?’ Caitlin blinked then blushed. ‘Yes. No. I mean, yes, of course that’s what I am, but no, I’m not at all partisan. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. I still don’t even know who you are!’
‘Oh, haven’t I introduced myself?’ He gave a mocking half-bow and then fixed her with his amazing eyes. ‘My oversight. I am Dante Cabrera, Alejandro’s brother.’
