The time bleeds away as we try to come to terms with our fresh grief, mired by the sorrow.
22
ANTONIO
Delilah’s a ball-buster, although she has the kind of face that allows her to squeeze hard before most men realize their balls are no longer intact. But I’m not most men, and she’s not my type. I’ve about run out of patience waiting for Daniela to appear, and Delilah’s frosty attitude isn’t helping.
“I’m going up to see what’s taking so long,” I tell Gray, as I turn toward the Wilder plane. The words aren’t out of my mouth before a small hand tightens around my forearm. I don’t shrug her off—it would be easy enough to do, but she brought us the girl safely. Plus, Gray has been looking at her like she shits ice cream, so instead, I scowl at the place where her hand rests, and then at her face.
“I told Daniela she could take as long as they need. Unless you know something different, this is a secure location.”
“We need to get back. There are things that require my attention. Important things. They can catch up on the way back.”
She glares at me before removing her hand. “They’re not catching up,” she chides, with some disdain. “But before they come out, there’s something I want to make clear.Crystal clear.” Her lazy drawl is seductive, and I’m sure it’s cost more than one man his dignity. “If you harm a hair on either of their heads, if you cause themanygrief, you’ll answer to me. I don’t care how much money you have, or what kind of power you wield, I’ll come for you.”
I chuckle. Mostly out of surprise, but also because it’s exactly the gauntlet I would lay down.
Gray’s smirking like the smug bastard he is. “I’d take that threat to heart if I were you. Doesn’t seem like she’s playin’.”
I ignore the sarcasm. He might not realize it yet, but he has his hands full. I make a note to ask his brother about her the next time he calls begging for Port, then I turn my full attention to the mouthy blonde. “You don’t need to worry about either of them.”
“That best be the case.”
“Here they come,” Gray mutters.
I glance over my shoulder. Daniela and a young girl are holding hands as they descend the stairs. From afar, they could pass for sisters, with their long, dark hair and slight builds. Daniela’s taller, but not by much.
I take several steps toward the airstairs, remembering Daniela at that age. Mostly I recall her eyes. The way they twinkled with mischief and confidence.I wonder if Valentina has that same sparkle.
I’ve seen pictures of the girl—or rather, pictures of Daniela with the girl somewhere in the background. Because we never realized who she was, no one ever bothered to capture her on film—to really capture her.We didn’t bother with her at all.In truth, I didn’t care if she lived or died. My only concerns revolved around Daniela.
As the space between us disappears, I finally get a good look at the girl’s face.
Jesus Christ.
She looks a lot like Daniela. The shape of her face, her nose, and mouth are her mother’s. But her eyes are not the color of an aged Tawny, like Daniela’s. They’re a brilliant violet-blue, framed by thick black lashes. It’s an unusual color, outside of fiction. I’ve only ever known one other person with that eye color.Vera Huntsman. My mother’s sister. Tomas’s mother. Although as an adult, Vera’s eyes weren’t as vibrant as Valentina’s. They were more of a muddy blue, almost washed out.Probably from all the tears she shed at the hand of my bastard uncle.But in some of the photos taken of her as a child—the similarity is startling.
“Valentina, this is Antonio Huntsman. I’ve been staying atSenhorHuntsman’s house in Porto.”
She didn’t tell Valentina we’re married. I’m not surprised. But from the girl’s tear-stained face, she told her about Isabel.
“It’s nice to meet you, Valentina. I’m so sorry to hear about Isabel’s passing.” I don’t refer to Isabel asyour mother, because while I’ll keep Daniela’s secret, I won’t perpetuate the lie. It serves no one now—especially not Daniela. “I met her several years ago in Porto. She loved Daniela, and I’m sure she loved you too.”
Daniela visibly relaxes when I behave like a decent human being.Noted.
“It’s nice to meet you,SenhorHuntsman,” Valentina says shyly, in perfect Portuguese.
Those eyes.There’s no way we’re going to be able to keep her parentage from anyone who knew Vera as a child. Fortunately, at this point in time, those people are few and far between. I’m not concerned about Tomas, because that sonofabitch’s days are numbered. He won’t see the harvest. With any luck, he’ll be in hell before the first grape turns purple.But what about Rafael? And my mother?The very second my mother lays eyes on the child, there’s no going back.
Gray and Delilah slowly make their way to where we’re huddled. “We need to get back to Charleston.”
“Thank you for bringing me here,” Valentina says, with all the politeness and poise I would expect from Daniela’s daughter. “And for teaching me about the South.”
“You’ll come to Charleston in December for our wedding, right?” Delilah asks the girl.
She gazes at her mother, who gazes back, the connection between them rock-steady and pure.
Despite how hard you tried to tear them apart—to sever that connection between mother and child.My chest tightens at the lengths I went to make that happen.