Nights of Passion: Mendez's Mistress / Bedded for the Italian's Pleasure / The Pregnancy Affair. Anne MatherЧитать онлайн книгу.
staring down at the Chinese rug beneath his feet. But when he lifted his head and met Joe’s accusing gaze, his expression shifted. ‘What’s it to you? What has she been telling you about me? Was it my fault she was out with some guy the night I called?’
Joe’s jaw tightened. Was that true? Had Rachel been spending the evening—night?—with another man when Steve had tried to ring her? He felt a tightening in his gut that had nothing to do with Daisy and everything to do with her mother. Was that why she’d got only half the story? Was he jumping in with both feet when he’d only got half the story too?
‘I suggest we say no more about it,’ he declared flatly. ‘As you say, it’s really nothing to do with me. My only concern is that Daisy gets the best treatment possible.’
‘Hey, that’s my concern too!’ exclaimed Steve, his tone indicating some relief at Joe’s capitulation. ‘And we’d better be making a move. I want to visit Daisy before her mother can poison her mind against me again.’
Rachel’s room at the Park Plaza hotel was hardly a five-star accommodation. But it was clean and the bed was reasonably comfortable. So much so that, when Luther dropped her off, she was grateful just to flop down onto it and close her eyes.
She was so tired. Her body didn’t care what time the clock said; she’d flown the Atlantic and she felt utterly exhausted. Finding out that Daisy’s injuries were more serious than she’d been told hadn’t helped either. Without Joe’s support and guidance, she’d have been whistling in the wind.
She refused to consider what meeting Joe again had meant to her. She’d been so sure that if they did meet again she’d be able to handle it. But she was afraid she was beginning to rely on him more and more. And that was stupid. Joe Mendez was not a man a woman like her could depend on, and she was fooling herself if she thought he found her anything more than a minor distraction.
It had been dark outside when she’d closed her eyes, but when she opened them again the room was filled with sunlight. Scrambling up, she managed to bring her watch into focus, her breath catching when she saw the time. Not that she needed the watch to tell her it was morning. She’d slept for twelve hours straight, still dressed in the shirt and trousers she’d worn to travel in.
Her head throbbing now, she glanced round and saw her suitcase standing just inside the door where the porter had left it. Swinging it up onto the crumpled coverlet, she found the key in her bag and hastily unlocked it.
Seeing the clean clothes laid out inside reminded her that she hadn’t had a shower for two days. She felt hot and grubby, the air conditioner making only half-hearted inroads into the room’s humidity. Stripping off her clothes, she padded barefoot into the adjoining bathroom and turned on the shower.
Fifteen minutes later, she felt infinitely cleaner and brighter, and rummaging in her case, she brought out navy linen shorts and a pink tank top. There was no hairdryer, but it was so hot she knew her hair would dry naturally. Then, content she wouldn’t embarrass her daughter, she grabbed her bag and left the room.
Daisy had been on her mind ever since she’d opened her eyes. She hadn’t forgotten that she’d promised to go back the previous evening, and aside from Daisy’s distress she’d let Dr Gonzales down, too. She was also desperate for a drink. She’d had nothing since the bottle of water Joe had given her in the car, and she was sure her headache was partly due to dehydration.
Thankfully, there was a coffee shop and a small pharmacy attached to the hotel, and she was able to buy herself a coffee to go and some chocolates for Daisy. Normally she wouldn’t encourage her to eat rich confectionery, but these were exceptional circumstances. Then, sipping the coffee, she went outside to look for a taxi.
There was no taxi in sight, but she refused to consider what Luther had said about Joe lending her a car. And luckily, a taxi arrived soon afterwards. The driver offloaded two passengers and their luggage and she was able to grab it. ‘The Steinberg Clinic, please,’ she said, sinking into the back seat.
It was after nine o’clock when she got to the clinic, and she stowed the half-drunk styrofoam mug of coffee in a waste bin before going in. As luck would have it, a young man was manning the desk this morning, and after she’d identified herself he had no problem in directing her to the second floor.
She was aware of the security guard watching her as she took the lift, but she reached the second floor without incident. She had to identify herself again at the nurses’ station and then she was allowed to make her way to Daisy’s room. But when she opened the door, she discovered Daisy already had a visitor.
Joe Mendez was lounging on the wide windowsill beside her daughter’s bed, and Daisy was giggling at something he’d said. There was such an air of camaraderie between them that Rachel almost felt as if she was intruding. Yet she was glad Daisy wasn’t on her own, she told herself. Even if she’d never expected to see Joe again.
Joe got up from the sill as Rachel stepped into the room, and Daisy, sensing another presence, turned her head. ‘Mum!’ she exclaimed eagerly. And then, as if remembering Rachel had promised to come back the night before and hadn’t, her expression changed. ‘I thought you’d forgotten I was here.’
‘Oh, Daisy!’ Rachel rolled her lips inward, pressing the box of chocolates to her chest like a shield. ‘I fell asleep,’ she admitted honestly, uncomfortably aware that Joe was listening. Then, turning to him, ‘Um—thanks for visiting Daisy again, Mr Mendez. It’s very kind of you.’
Joe tucked his palms into the back pockets of his trousers and swayed back on his heels before replying. He was formally dressed this morning, his pin-striped grey shirt and charcoal-grey trousers indicating a business meeting. ‘I was passing,’ he said. Then, his eyes darkening, ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Too well,’ murmured Rachel, feeling the heat rising up her throat as he continued to look at her. Were her breasts puckering? she wondered. Was the film of perspiration she could feel breaking out all over her visible? She lifted her hand and made a futile attempt to fan herself. ‘It’s very hot.’
‘It’s Miami in August,’ remarked Joe drily, but Rachel noticed it didn’t seem to bother him. He looked so cool—and gorgeous, she thought, looking away before he noticed the effect he was having on her. Dear heaven, she was behaving like a schoolgirl. She had to stop reacting in this way.
‘Mr Mendez comes most days,’ put in Daisy, apparently deciding she’d been ignored long enough. She fumbled for something half-hidden beneath the coverlet. ‘Look what he’s brought me.’
She produced something that looked like the iPod Rachel had bought her at Christmas. But it was smaller and slimmer, and when Daisy touched a switch a small screen flickered to life. ‘It’s a video iPod,’ she said proudly. ‘Isn’t it great? I can download videos as well as music and watch them on the screen.’
‘Really?’ Rachel was impressed in spite of herself, but there was no way she could allow her daughter to accept such an expensive gift from him. She licked her lips and turned to Joe again. ‘It’s very nice,’ she said inadequately, ‘But Daisy can’t keep it.’
‘Mum!’
Daisy’s cry of protest was predictable, but Rachel couldn’t help that. ‘It’s too much,’ she said, avoiding Joe’s dark gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘But Mum …’
Daisy was getting tearful now, and Joe felt a surge of impatience as Rachel held her ground. He’d wanted to do this for Daisy; wanted to give her something to make her time in hospital more fun. And give him an excuse to visit her again, he admitted ruefully. Because, now that Rachel was here, he definitely wanted to see her again, whatever excuse he had to make.
‘Mum, you can’t stop me from having it,’ Daisy was saying sulkily. ‘It’s mine, not yours. Mr Mendez has already downloaded a load of teen movies, so I’m not bored while I’m lying here.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Rachel muttered, but now she couldn’t