Page 2 of The Forbidden Cabrera Brother
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.
‘Getoffme!’
‘Stop trying to kick me!’
‘Stop trying to attackme! 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.
