The Abducted Heart (Sweetly Contemporary Collection) by Jennifer Blake Read Free Book Online Page B

Castillo. Where are my clothes?”
    “They have been cleaned and pressed, and I, Carmelita, hung them away in the wardrobe with my own hands. But, señorita, you will make yourself ill again if you get up too soon. Please to have breakfast slowly in bed, then I will run your bath and lay out your clothes. That is the way. Besides, Don Ramón has not left his room to go down to the patio for breakfast, and he sees no one before then. For my life I would not disturb him, not me!”
    Daunted by such a heartfelt declaration, Anne paused. After a moment, she asked, “What about after breakfast?”
    “That would be much better. While you are making yourself ready I will speak to Pedro, Don Ramón’s secretary, and see what may be arranged.”
    Irritation with such formality touched Anne, then receded. “Thank you,” she replied.
    The light of the sun was blinding after the dim interior of the house. Anne stood for a moment in the doorway to let her eyes adjust. The patio, including the dim recess under the arched and columned loggia that encompassed it on four sides, was large. It was paved with gray stone except for a circle of yellow and blue geometric tiles that made a base for a sparkling fountain. Orange trees lifted their glossy branches to shade one corner. Under the loggia hung baskets of enormous ferns and flowering begonias. Fine green moss grew between the cracks of the floor. Hardy ferns lined the edge of the loggia, and placed at intervals were large terra-cotta pots filled with cascades of white petunias growing around the bases of red geraniums. Through an arched opening in the wall closed by an iron grill could be seen an expanse of the garden and the wall that bounded the property. Roses and sweet peas clambered over the wall, a pink and magenta and rose mass of fragrance with bees drunkenly picking and choosing among them.
    Glancing up from his paper, señor Castillo caught sight of her hovering there under the arcade. He rose to his feet at once, tossing aside the paper, and held out a chair for her at the glass-topped wrought-iron table where he had been sitting.
    “Coffee?” he asked as he resumed his place. A coffee service of heavy, polished silver sat before him on a tray though all evidence of his breakfast had been removed. Since it would give her something to do with her hands, Anne agreed. He poured it out and, without consulting her, added sugar before passing the cup to her.
    “You are rested?” he asked, his narrowed gaze on the pale fragility of her face as he sat back with his own cup.
    “Yes, perfectly,” she answered, “though I must apologize for the trouble I have caused.”
    “It was nothing.”
    “I’m sure it was awkward for you. I — I would like to thank you for taking care of me.” It was difficult to go on in the face of his apparent indifference, but she had to have his cooperation. It might be days before she could untangle the mess she was in and return home without his help. “I cannot quite remember, but it seems I must have told you that I have friends, my employers and my roommate, who will be worried about me. Do you know — is there some way I could get in touch with them and let them know I am all right?”
    “Certainly. The telephone is available whenever you would like to use it. However, you need be in no hurry to contact your employers. I have spoken to them already. They know where you are and the circumstances, and will not expect to hear from you any time soon. It is more than likely that your roommate will learn of your whereabouts from them when you don’t turn up, don’t you think?”
    “You — you called Metcalf’s about me?” As Anne set her coffee cup on the table it clattered a little in the saucer.
    “From the plane,” he admitted with the faintest flicker of a smile. “You would not tell me your name, if you remember, and I had to know it, along with a number of other particulars, in order to persuade the authorities to let you into