Alejandro's Revenge Read Free

red curls to shame. ‘Welcome to Florida,’ she added, her high heels tapping across the polished floor as she came to meet her guest. Air kisses whispered at either side of Abby’s head as she continued, ‘I hope you had a good journey, cara .’
    â€˜I—yes. Thank you.’ Abby felt a little bemused as she returned the greeting. Lauren’s mother was behaving as if she was here for a holiday instead of flying out to be at her brother’s bedside. ‘It’s very—kind of you to ask.’
    â€˜Not so, querida .’ Was Abby mistaken or did Dolores’s mouth tighten a little. ‘We are very happy to have you here.’
    â€˜Yes, but—’
    Ignoring her now, Lauren’s mother switched her attentionto the maid, who was hovering in the background, directing her to take their guest’s suitcase upstairs. At least that was what Abby thought she was doing. Her imperious signal towards the curving staircase seemed to indicate it was.
    â€˜Oh, but—’ Abby began, eager to explain that she had no intention of presuming on the Esquivals’ hospitality, but Lauren’s mother turned to her again.
    â€˜This way,’ she said, apparently deaf to Abby’s protests. ‘I am sure you are eager to see your brother,’ she added, heading into the salon. ‘Everyone is through here.’
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    Afterwards, when she was unwillingly installed in the first-floor suite she had occupied on her first visit to Florida, Abby marvelled that she had had no suspicion that Alejandro might be there.
    Yet how could she have? she asked herself defensively. She’d believed that he was just a distant relative, invited to the wedding because family politics dictated as much. She’d had no idea that he was such a close friend of the Esquivals, nor that Lauren seemed to regard him with a distinctly possessive affection.
    Still, when she’d followed Dolores into the enormous salon that seemed to stretch right across the back of the house, she’d had eyes only for her brother. Besides, she’d still been slightly dazzled by the change from sun to shadow. With spots of brilliance dancing before her pupils, she’d been in no condition to instantly register all the people in the room.
    Edward was there, she’d seen with some relief, apparently confined to the cushioned divan where he was reclining. With one leg encased in plaster from hip to knee, he had apparently been incapable of coming to greet her. She had hesitated only a moment before hurrying to his side.
    â€˜Oh, Eddie,’ she exclaimed huskily, suddenly inexplicably near to tears. ‘What on earth have you been doing to yourself?’
    She bent to kiss his cheek and Edward captured one of her hands and held onto it. ‘Hey, Abbs,’ he greeted her urgently. Then, in an undertone, ‘Thank God you’ve come!’
    Abby’s eyes widened at his unexpected words. But before she could say or do anything rash, another hand touched her sleeve.
    â€˜Abigail,’ declared a vaguely familiar voice. ‘How—good it is to see you again.’
    Abby turned, straightening, to find Luis Esquival standing right behind her. Lauren’s father was only slightly taller than his wife, with a broad dark-skinned face and luxuriant moustaches. He extended his hand towards her. ‘Did you have a pleasant journey?’
    Abby was confused, as much by her brother’s words as by the fairly obvious conclusion that there was nothing seriously wrong with him. He had let her believe that he’d be in hospital for some time, whereas now it appeared that apart from a probable fracture he was okay. Heavens, she thought ruefully, Ross was going to love this.
    But Lauren’s father was waiting for an answer and, summoning her composure, she managed a polite smile. ‘It was—tiring,’ she admitted. Plane journeys were not her thing, and she’d had the