Reaching for her camera, she asked, ‘Could you stop here for a moment?’
Diego Acosta drove on.
He had said he was in a hurry, Maxie remembered as the viewpoint disappeared behind them, and she could always come back alone.
She couldn’t have been more surprised when he drew to a halt on the cliff edge and with a nod of the head indicated she should get out here. Not very gallant, but she’d take what she could get.
She had to concede he was right. This was a much better view, Maxie realised as she climbed down from the vehicle. The palatial old house sat on the top of a black lava cliff. At the foot of this a ruffled silver ocean stretched to the brightening horizon. The rain had stopped and the wind had dropped. She hoped the fresh air would clear her head, and made a play of fiddling with her lens to buy some time away from him.
‘If you angle your camera like this …’
She started at the sound of Diego’s voice. She hadn’t even heard him coming. Lightning bolts shot down her spine when he reached across to tilt her camera.
‘You can capture the house framed by the mountains on one side and the ocean on the other,’ he explained. ‘It’s a famous view.’
Thankfully, he backed off while she worked, swiftly and efficiently, remembering he’d said he had other things to do.
‘That was a great camera opportunity. Thanks for stopping,’ she said when she joined him in the Jeep.
The massive shoulders eased in a so what? shrug. ‘Research is what you’re here for, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right,’ she agreed, putting her camera away neatly in spite of the fact that Diego Acosta’s darkly glittering glamour was distracting to the point where her fingers were co-operating like sausages. She was used to men who came in uniformly drab design and were all the safer for it.
They drove into the Acosta holiday home compound through some impressive wrought-iron gates and turned into a cobbled courtyard framed by lushly planted flowerbeds. The planting was in stronger colours than Maxie was used to, but it worked here—the scale, the colour, everything was bold. In the centre of the courtyard there was a fountain, spurting plumes of water into the air, while shrubs and trees softened the edges of the old stone house. And the house, far from being the gloomy lair she had half expected Diego might inhabit, appeared to be a beautifully restored piece of history that had been loved and cherished over the years.
He parked at the foot of a wide sweep of stone steps at the top of which stood an older woman in front of some solid-looking double doors. The doors were open wide in welcome, and were flanked by twinkling windows that gave an impression as warm as the woman’s smile.
‘Welcome to Palacio Acosta,’ Diego said. ‘Or as some have dubbed it,’ he added with a cynical curve of his lips, ‘Palacio Too-antiquated-for-words.’
‘Well, I think it’s lovely!’ Maxie exclaimed, wondering who on earth could have said such a thing. The thought that it might have been one of Diego’s ex-girlfriends made the hair stand up on the back of her neck. Not that it was any of her business.
‘May I introduce our wonderful housekeeper, Maria?’ Diego said politely, standing back at the top of the steps so the two women could meet.
‘I’m very pleased to meet you—’ The words were barely out of Maxie’s mouth when Maria gathered her close for a bear hug. If Maria worked for a monster she was certainly resilient, Maxie reflected when the housekeeper finally released her.
‘I’m going to check the horses,’ Diego said, swinging away. ‘Maria will show you where everything is.’
‘Thank you. And thank you for collecting me at the dock.’ She hadn’t expected him to stick around, but it would have been nice. Nice? It would have been challenging, electrifying, and all the other words associated with extreme sport. ‘See you later.’
Business came first, and bearing in mind Diego’s warnings about the terrain she thought it wise to arrange an agenda with him so they could discuss safety issues further.
Turning, he gave her a look that made Maxie wonder if she had sounded desperate. ‘I imagine our paths will cross again as we’re living in the same house,’ he observed coolly.
‘Whenever suits you.’ She didn’t need to turn her back to hide her red cheeks. He’d already gone. Unaccountably she felt the loss of him already, Maxie realised as Diego limped away.
The moment he was out of earshot, he rang his brother. ‘What the hell are you trying to do to me, Ruiz?’ Diego demanded furiously, grimacing as he leaned back against a fence post to ease the pressure on his leg.
‘If I knew what you were talking about,’ Ruiz replied, ‘maybe I could help. Your temper certainly hasn’t improved,’ he observed. ‘My advice to you is to get back on the polo circuit as fast as you can.’
‘Don’t you think I want to?’ Diego roared over the crackling line to Argentina, where Ruiz was currently playing the game they both loved, with Holly cheering him on from the sidelines. Shouldn’t Holly be here to deal with her pain-in-the-ass wedding planner? ‘Don’t you think I’m obsessed with getting back into the game?’ he flashed on the heels of this thought.
‘I’ve never heard you so angry before,’ Ruiz commented laconically.
‘We might be brothers, Ruiz, but there are limits to what I’m prepared to do for you. I came here to recover in private—not to play host to some confetti addict.’ He stopped at the sound of a muffled protest, and then sighed as his soon to be sister-in-law, the well-named Holly Valiant, seized the phone from his recently reformed playboy brother.
‘You won’t have to do a thing, Diego,’ Holly promised him breathlessly from the other side of the world. ‘Maxie is the most fantastic wedding planner. She will do everything. You have met her?’ Holly prompted when he said nothing. ‘She has arrived, hasn’t she?’ Holly asked with growing concern.
‘She’s here,’ he confirmed flatly.
‘Brilliant,’ Holly enthused, completely missing the warning note in his voice. ‘There’s nowhere else on earth I would rather be married than Isla del Fuego.’
‘You will have to excuse me, Holly,’ he broke in politely. ‘I have things to do. We can talk about your wedding some other time.’
‘Oh …’ All the air left her sails. ‘Of course,’ she said quickly. ‘I imagine you’re busy with the horses.’
Another long silence followed, and he could imagine Holly wondering if she’d said the wrong thing again. ‘Yes, I’m busy with the horses,’ he confirmed, to put her out of her misery. His attention switched to the ponies in the paddock, and to the one in particular that had fallen on top of him during the match. Months had passed since then, and the horse looked well and was moving easily—which was more than could be said for his owner, Diego reflected grimly.
‘Is there something wrong?’ Holly asked, forcing him to refocus on the call.
‘Not really … There is one thing. The name of your wedding planner.’
‘Maxie Parrish?’ Holly supplied with her usual enthusiasm. ‘She’s great, isn’t she?’
‘Could you put my brother on the phone?’ he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral.
‘Of course …’
He could hear the strand of anxiety in Holly’s
tone, and then she covered the handset and said something to his brother.
‘Diego?’ Ruiz drawled, in a voice that suggested there were plenty of things he would rather be doing than talking to his brother.
‘Parrish?’ Diego drove on. ‘Holly’s wedding planner is called Maxie Parrish.’
‘So?’ Ruiz queried.
‘Parrish,’ he repeated.
‘Dream Events is the name of the company, isn’t it?’
Ruiz remarked vaguely, clearly far more interested in his bride-to-be than anything else. ‘Her references checked out. Even I was impressed. There must be thousands of girls with the surname Parrish, Diego. And, anyway, you should be over that.’
Maybe he should be, but he wasn’t.
‘It can’t be the same family,’ Ruiz said confidently.
‘And you know this for a fact?’
But Holly had seized the phone again. ‘Have I done something wrong?’ she said. ‘Please tell me if I’ve done something wrong, Diego.’
‘You have done nothing wrong,’ he soothed.
Where could he begin? And why rake up the past and ruin Holly’s romantic moment? She wasn’t to blame for a tragedy Diego had set in motion all those years ago.
‘Would it be better if we rang you some other time?’ Holly was asking with growing concern.
‘No,’ he said, making a conscious effort to gentle his tone. ‘Tell me about the plans you’d like for your wedding, Holly.’
He felt bad when he realised all the fizz had left her voice, but she soon recovered, and as Holly started telling him her exciting news he drifted back to a black time in his life when he had taken one too many risks with tragic consequences. His time out now, with his injury from the polo field, could only be a relief for his opponents—for when Diego played he remembered what he’d done, and when he remembered he cared for nothing. Which made him a danger not only to himself but to everyone around him.
‘You should get back to the game,’ Holly told him softly, as if she could read some of these thoughts. ‘You’re needed, Diego. Your brothers need you. The team isn’t the same without you.’