A Convenient Marriage

‘Don’t you know you can’t ask someone from my country such a question without the same answers?’

‘And that is?’

‘Argentina. I’m from the capital city—Buenos Aires—and my passions are football, politics and—until very recently—living life in the fast lane.’ One corner of his beautiful mouth hitched slightly upwards as if the confession pained him. Even with the wine heating her blood, Sabrina couldn’t fail to pick up on the sudden sadness in his voice. Immediately she felt guilty. They’d spent most of the evening so far talking about her. She wasn’t usually such selfish company—at least she prayed not.

‘So.’ She fixed him with such a direct gaze that Javier suddenly experienced a very disorienting feeling of light-headedness. ‘Something must have happened to change that? Life in the fast lane, I mean.’

Brought back to earth with a bump, Javier felt his stomach muscles knot painfully as he remembered Michael in hospital, Angelina crying herself to sleep and his own life thrown into the worst kind of personal turmoil yet again in the space of eight short years.

‘You are right, something happened,’ he said heavily, loosening his tie. ‘But it is not something I care to talk about right now.’

‘I understand.’ Her voice was softly concerned. ‘I just want you to know that if you felt the need to share what was troubling you, I would be a good listener.’

‘Of that I have no doubt.’ Raising his glass, Javier gave her a small toast. ‘I am wondering why you are alone, Sabrina, or am I being too presumptuous? Is there a man in your life?’

‘Apart from my horrible bank manager, my colleague Robbie and my lovely brother-in-law, Phil?’ Her laugh was uninhibitedly melodic and very, very sexy. The kind of laugh a man didn’t easily forget.

‘No, Javier. I am footloose and fancy-free…whatever that means. Most of my time is taken up by the business. When I’m there, work just takes over, and when I’m not there I spend most of my free time worrying about it. Boring, aren’t I? I don’t think many men would put up with that.’

‘Men who do not welcome a challenge, perhaps.’

What was he saying? Sabrina thought in fright. Would he welcome such a challenge? Her heart did a crazy little dance.

‘And what about the future?’ he wanted to know, dark eyes speculative. ‘Do you see yourself perhaps getting married and having a family?’

It would be too crude to make some flip comment about her biological clock ticking, Sabrina thought, suddenly depressed. Suffice just to tell him no—such a future probably wasn’t on the cards for her personally.

‘Not really. The business is my baby. Oh, it’s not that I don’t love kids, I do. It’s just that—well, I’m not twenty-something any more and, anyway, I’m probably far too set in my ways for any man to want to take on. How about yourself; do you have a lady in your life? Perhaps at home in Argentina?’

Javier thought about Christina, the ‘twenty-something’ beautiful Brazilian model he’d been dating up until a couple of months ago—when he’d come home unexpectedly early one afternoon and found her in bed with his twice-married, chain-smoking neighbour, Carlo. He shrugged. ‘The lady in my life is eleven years old.’ Inevitably a smile found its way to his lips when he spoke about Angelina. He wondered if there was any news from the hospital. He prayed she would get to sleep without tears wetting her pillow tonight.

‘You have a daughter?’ Blue eyes widening with surprise, Sabrina leant towards him across the table, unknowingly treating him to a very tantalising view of her creamy breasts down the scooped neck of her blouse. Heat raced into Javier’s groin and for a moment he was stunned. It had been such a long time since the sight of a beautiful woman could do that to him spontaneously.

He blinked. ‘A niece. My sister’s child, Angelina.’

‘What a pretty name.’

‘Yes.’

The waiter interrupted them with their meal. As he bustled about, laying plates on the white rich linen cloth and replenishing their wine, Sabrina sensed there was an air of sorrow about her companion that tugged at her heartstrings and made her want to know what distressed him so. Right now those impressively broad shoulders of his looked weighed down with the worries of the world and she longed to be able to offer even the smallest crumb of comfort.

‘Everything looks wonderful.’ Picking up her fork, she tried to lighten the mood a little.

Javier smiled that destroyingly slow, thoughtful smile of his that made something in her innermost core clench and tighten with shivery anticipation, and simply said, ‘Eat. Enjoy. Then we will talk some more.’

He accompanied her in a taxi home but didn’t come in when Sabrina offered him coffee, a nightcap or both. Instead he told her how much he’d enjoyed her company, advised her not to worry about the business because he felt sure something good would turn up, and politely kissed her hand. What threw Sabrina completely was that the charmingly old-fashioned gesture was so unbelievably erotic that her legs were shaking when she finally let herself into her flat and closed the door. Dropping down onto her softly patterned couch with its fading beige and green flowers, she briefly closed her eyes and sighed heavily. He hadn’t suggested they see each other again and no doubt she’d blown it by wittering on about the business. A cool, sophisticated, urbane man like Javier D’Alessandro probably thought she was totally boring and one-dimensional, and who could blame him?

When she opened her eyes again she was dismayed to feel tears running down her cheeks. She’d tried so hard to be a success. So hard. And all her parents and Ellie were concerned about was when was she going to settle down with a man and have a brood of kids. The fact that she’d successfully run a business for fifteen years meant nothing to them. Suddenly her life seemed all those things she’d accused herself of being and more and she was very, very sorry for it indeed.

Michael rallied after his latest treatment but the doctors told Javier and Michael’s mother, Angela, that they mustn’t be too hopeful. Too hopeful? The fury Javier experienced in his gut burned him like fire tearing through dry tinder, his Latin temperament rising up in rage against the expected conformity that was supposed to be the acceptable Western reaction to such news. Angela Calder simply squeezed her son’s pale, listless hand with her own beringed elegant one and smiled in calm acquiescence. Too ill to notice, even though he’d been much better all day, Michael too seemed to have resigned himself to what he thought of as the inevitable. When Angela briefly quitted the room to go in search of a cup of tea, Michael gestured Javier to his side and told him he had something important to discuss.

‘Angelina.’ The sick man leant back against the plumped-up white pillows on his hospital bed and forced a smile. Javier immediately felt his throat tighten. It was hard to look at his brother-in-law with all the tubes and medical equipment attached to him without wanting to rip them out and take him home.

‘What about Angelina, Michael?’

‘I want you to adopt her. You’re her closest link to her mother and me. I’d ask Ma but she’s not equipped to take care of a child of eleven. She’s not strong…a worrier. She let my father do everything until he died. And Angelina doesn’t know her that well—she’s not exactly been a constant in her life. Not like she knows you, Javier. Will you do that for me, my friend? Will you be a father to my little girl until she grows up?’

There was a burning sensation in his throat and on his lap Javier’s knuckles squeezed white. ‘It would be an honour, Michael. But you are not going to die…you will get well, sí? The hospital, they are doing everything they can to make you well again. Please, do not give up so easily.’

‘I’m not giving up. I just know what I know, Javier. Please take care of Angelina and don’t take her away from her friends, from all she knows. There must be a way you can stay here. I know it’s a lot to ask…your home is in Argentina, but you have a home here too. You’ve always had a home with us. You know that.’ Michael coughed and went deathly pale. Jumping up beside him, Javier gently squeezed his shoulder.

‘Michael! Shall I call someone?’ He was already turning away, hurrying to the door, pulling it wide and glancing up and down the thickly carpeted corridor for a nurse.

‘Javier.’

He returned to Michael’s bedside, his heart pounding.

‘What is it? I am here.’

‘Promise me. Promise me you’ll adopt Angelina? I’ve got to know if you will do this for me.’

Taking the other man’s hand in his own, Javier squeezed it as hard as he dared. His chest feeling as if it was in a vice, he managed to dredge up a smile, thinking, This is too hard, too cruel for anyone to bear; first Dorothea, now Michael.

‘I promise, Michael. I give you my word.’

As the nurse bustled into the room, pushing the drugs trolley ahead of her with a cheery smile that made Javier want to curse, he excused himself, telling his brother-in-law that he needed to get out and get some air—to walk and think and come up with some kind of a plan.

He’d hardly known where his feet were leading him until he found himself outside East-West Travel. There were two other customers in the shop today, one seated opposite the young blonde woman he’d seen on his first visit, and the other engaged in conversation with a man who appeared to be in his late thirties. His brown hair was thinning on top and he wore pale steel-framed glasses that made his colourless face seem even paler. There was no sign of Sabrina. Perhaps she had gone to lunch? Glancing down at his watch, Javier saw that it was just past eleven in the morning. Coffee break, then? He’d never know until he went in and asked.

Jill glanced up in surprise as she recognised the incredibly good-looking male who walked through the door.

‘Hello there,’ she said cheerily. ‘Looking for Sabrina?’

‘Sí. I mean yes. Is she around?’

‘She’s in the back.’ She pointed vaguely in the direction of the little room at the end. ‘Busy doing paperwork.’

‘Then I won’t disturb her.’ Frustrated, Javier went to walk away.

Jill waved him to a stop. ‘Don’t be silly! There’s nothing Sabrina likes better than to be distracted from her paperwork. Go on through. She might even have the kettle on.’

His first glimpse of Sabrina was her back. She was wearing a formal blue skirt and jacket, her delightful hair caught up in some intricate tortoiseshell comb, her stockinged feet bare. At the moment one small, slender foot was easing its way up and down the back of her calf as if to soothe the strain that was there. He heard her proffer up a very unladylike curse beneath her breath as she studied some papers on top of an antiquated steel filing cabinet, and couldn’t help but smile.

‘Hello there. Your colleague said it was all right if I came through.’

Her heart knocking wildly against her ribs, Sabrina spun round, took one look at Javier D’Alessandro and found her greeting jammed in her throat. Wearing a stylish black coat over black jeans and a navy-blue cashmere sweater, the man looked like a million dollars. The citrus, woody tang of his aftershave wafted round the room, tightening her insides, instinctively making her want to retreat behind her professional mask for protection.

‘It’s nice to see you again.’ Smoothing down her skirt, she smiled. She was the first good thing that had happened to him all day, Javier acknowledged. Perhaps it would make it easier to broach the subject he had come to talk to her about? He hoped so.