The Argentinian's Solace Page 6

  Like a lover? ‘Like a bike?’ she suggested.

  ‘Like the most responsive of bikes,’ Diego amended coolly.

  Blowing out one last steadying breath, she released the brake and hit the throttle.

  ‘You’re doing ninety,’ Diego yelled above the wind. ‘Slow down or I’m taking over!’

  She laughed as exhilaration took her over, and only slowed at the next bend. She took the corner well and didn’t speed up again. She’d had her moment. She wasn’t trying to provoke Diego. She just wanted to push the boundaries for once in her life.

  That was Maxie Parrish, Maxie concluded wryly as the countryside turned from a dun-coloured blur into a crystal-clear image of scrubland punctuated by the occasional tree, she always knew when to pull back.

  ‘You ride well,’ Diego commented now he could be heard over the engine.

  She could only blame the island for freeing something crazy inside sensible Maxie. ‘Thanks for letting me ride!’ she yelled back.

  As Diego eased back in the saddle, she felt the loss of him instantly.

  ‘Do you ride a bike every day?’ he said.

  ‘Every day to work—and sometimes when I’m at home.’

  ‘Home?’ Diego queried, frightening her with the speed of his pick-up. ‘Do you live alone?’

  ‘I do now,’ she said lightly. ‘No boyfriend.’

  ‘No …’ She drew the word out as if she had no time for one, which was true.

  ‘You don’t live with your parents, then?’

  ‘No.’ She took a moment. ‘My mother’s dead.’

  ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ Diego said, leaning forward to speak in her ear. ‘My parents too—both of them.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘It’s been quite some time now.’

  ‘But it never gets any easier, does it? I think about my mother every day. I still miss her. I always will. I suppose you just learn coping strategies.’

  ‘I suppose you do,’ Diego agreed, and then after a moment he added, ‘What about your father, Maxie?’

  Every part of her was instantly on red alert. ‘He’s retired,’ she said, reverting to the one-liner that always got her through. ‘He lives quietly now.’ She waited tensely, and was relieved when Diego let the subject drop.

  ‘Take a left here,’ he instructed. They were almost back at the palacio, and were entering a fenced lane beyond which lay endless paddocks where countless horses were grazing.

  She stopped the bike and Diego got off. With the immense power of his upper body he barely used his legs as he vaulted lightly over a gate. A sleek bay pony, instantly recognising its master, came trotting over. Nuzzling Diego’s pockets imperiously, it consented to consume a packet of mints.

  ‘Are you going to ride him?’ Maxie asked almost simultaneously with Diego springing lightly onto the horse’s back. His injury counted for nothing now. Nudging the horse into a relaxed canter, he was at one with it immediately—but she guessed that when it came to playing polo at a professional level the stiffness in Diego’s leg would hold him back. Climbing the fence to watch, she rested her chin on her arm.

  ‘I come here every day to train,’ he explained as he cantered past.

  She could understand why. The steady rattle of hooves was so soothing.

  At least it was until another horse, wanting to join in the fun, bucked its way across Diego’s path, causing his horse to shy and then to rear. Diego only just managed to stay on, and the effort wrenched his leg. Dismounting, he bent double in pain. Maxie felt sick and wished she hadn’t been there to see it.

  The one thing she knew she mustn’t do was turn away and have him think she was disappointed in him. ‘Can I help?’ she called out when he didn’t move.

  He didn’t look up as he waved her away, but she saw the grimace of pain on his face. She couldn’t imagine what it must be like to have been at the top of his game only to stare failure in the face now, day after relentless day.

  The first thing he did when the pain had passed was to check his horse, and then with a kind word he slapped its rump to urge him back into the field. When he limped towards her she said nothing. There was no need for words. Their eyes met briefly and that was it. In some ways it was the closest they’d come.

  The hot red sun was sinking slowly behind the mountains as Diego rode the bike home. They had been out for hours and she’d hardly noticed time passing. The black peaks were framed in a shimmering gold, and even the sea had calmed into a smooth lilac disc. It was an incredible sight, but the day had gone flat. Diego took the bike at a modest speed, as if he didn’t want to invite any more disasters. When they reached the house and she dismounted, he rode away without another word.

  This feeling, like a lump of lead in her stomach, was due to her getting too involved, Maxie concluded as she walked across the silent hallway. Did she really think she could ease Diego’s pain? What if she tried and it didn’t work?

  What if, what if, what if …?

  She was a doer, not a dreamer—wasn’t she? How could she make things right for Diego?

  Back in his bedroom, Diego raked his hair impatiently and swore as if that could blank out what had happened. What had possessed him to ride a horse in front of Maxie? Why had he let her watch? Why had he questioned her about her father and simply let it go? Was he afraid to hear the truth? Was he afraid to face the truth about his leg—his future—his place in the Band of Brothers polo team? Was he afraid to face the truth about Maxie?

  The chances of one Parrish being connected to another in a world of individuals with the surname Parrish was practically non-existent. And if he asked her and there was a connection he doubted she would answer him honestly anyway. She would just strengthen her defences, making the elusive Peter Parrish even harder to find. It would save a lot of grief if he just hired a private investigator and waited until he had some answers.

  He gazed out of the window at the pool house. There was still a very good chance he could make a full recovery. He had to believe that one day full feeling would return to his leg. One thing was sure—the enemy of his progress was inactivity. He’d take a shower and have a swim. If he could do nothing more than religiously practise the exercises he’d been given in the hospital then that was what he’d do.

  Back in her room, Maxie picked up the phone to call Holly with the good news about the caves. ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ she confirmed when Holly spoke without breath or break about her concerns for Maxie. ‘This isn’t about me,’ Maxie reminded Holly good-humouredly when she could finally get a word in. ‘It’s your wedding—though the next time you might warn me what to expect on the unreconstructed man front!’

  ‘There won’t be a next time,’ Holly said, laughing down the phone. ‘And I doubt anyone could warn you about the Acosta brothers. They’re unique!’

  ‘They certainly are,’ Maxie agreed, laughing too. She went on to explain what she had seen and how she thought they could use the caves as part of the entertainment for the guests. They chatted some more and Holly thanked her for the photographs.

  Maxie had crossed to the window by this time, only to see Diego crossing the garden. On his way to bed down the horses, she presumed. She pulled back just in time as he looked up, making her heart thunder and her body yearn.

  This was madness, Maxie told herself firmly, finding she had to wait until even his shadow had disappeared before she could concentrate enough to finish what she’d been saying to Holly.

  ‘Are you still there?’ Holly demanded.

  ‘I’m still here,’ Maxie confirmed. ‘I was just distracted for a moment.’

  ‘By Diego?’

  ‘How did you know?’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Maxie, please. Relationships are my business, remember? Agony aunt?’ Holly prompted. ‘My whole job revolves around sniffing out sparks.’

  ‘There are no sparks.’

  ‘Right,’ Holly agreed without conviction. ‘So, what do you really think of him?’

 
‘I don’t know what you mean. I’m here to arrange your wedding. I hadn’t even noticed Diego, to be honest …’

  ‘Oh, he has made an impression on you,’ Holly interrupted with amusement. ‘Remember, I have seen him—so nothing you can say will ever persuade me that you haven’t noticed Diego. Did you even say that, by the way?’

  ‘Could we concentrate on business and your wedding plans, please?’

  ‘For now,’ Holly agreed. ‘So what do you think of the island so far?’

  ‘Fabulous. Perfect for your wedding,’ Maxie said honestly. She gave Holly some more back-up information to flesh out what she’d already told her. ‘So if you’re sure you’re happy to leave everything to me—’

  ‘That’s why I hired you.’

  ‘I’ll send some more notes through later today.’

  ‘Put some juicy bits in this time,’ Holly insisted with a laugh.

  ‘Not a chance,’ Maxie exclaimed, pressing her back against the cool of the wall in the hope that it might soothe her overheated body. ‘Sorry to disappoint, but this is strictly business, Holly.’

  ‘Now you’ve upset me,’ Holly protested, forcing a sob into her voice. ‘I was planning on us being sisters-in-law one day, so I’ll always have someone around to organise my life.’

  ‘Well, as that’s never going to happen—’

  ‘All right—so concentrate on my wedding for now. Just think of it as a rehearsal for your own.’

  ‘Holly,’ Maxie warned in a mock-stern tone. ‘Seriously. Stop this.’ And that was as far as she got before Holly laughed again and cut the line.

  Did Holly even know Diego? Did she think for one moment he would look at someone like Maxie? Diego had been right about Holly—she did look at the world through rose-tinted spectacles. Getting to know Diego any better than Maxie already had would be the most insanely dangerous thing she could do.

  And what if she wanted to?

  She just had to get a hold of herself, Maxie told her inner voice impatiently, wishing she didn’t feel quite so mixed up. After all the excitement on the bike what she needed was to cool down, Maxie concluded, searching for her swimming costume. She couldn’t do any more work on Holly’s wedding plans today so she might as well take some time to chill out—if that was possible while she and Diego lived under the same roof.

  Grabbing her things, she was just about to leave the room when she decided to make a quick call first. ‘Dad?’

  ‘Maxie? Is that you?’

  The fact that her father seemed to be totally switched on now, despite his earlier confusion, was incredible. ‘How do you feel?’ she asked eagerly, thrilling at the sound of his voice.

  ‘Wonderful,’ he assured her.

  ‘That’s the best news I’ve heard all day. And don’t you worry. I’ll be back before you know it to take you out, and we’ll have a great time—’

  ‘Take me out? Take me out where? Who is this?’ her father quavered in a voice that chilled her. ‘Why do you want to take me out?’ he demanded suspiciously. ‘What have I done? You can’t blame me,’ he exclaimed on a rising note.

  And then he started yelling and swearing just like the old days, only almost worse, Maxie realised, because now he didn’t know what he was saying. She knew she should be relieved when a nurse took over the phone, but instead she just felt beaten. It took a good few steadying breaths this time before she could accept that it was her father’s illness that had beaten them both.

  ‘Everything’s fine this end,’ the nurse assured her. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Maxie confirmed. Fine. Fine. Fine. She was fine.

  Emotion filled the room, leaving no air to breathe. Ending the call, she gave herself a moment, waiting for the tide of emotion to pull back, as it did every time, only to regain its strength for the next onslaught. Drawing in a shaking breath, she checked she had everything she would need at the pool house. The thought of a brief spell of solitude and mindless exercise had never seemed more appealing.

  Swimming was one thing Diego could still do really well. After years of training he had plenty of muscle power in his upper body, and if one leg worked less smoothly than the other the water supported it and he could still maintain a credible speed. And swimming was one of the very best exercises for his injury, the physios had told him. The cool of the water after the heated bike ride was certainly welcome. His regular stroke allowed him to focus his mind and plan his next move. With Maxie around the name Parrish was constantly in front of him, so it made sense to him to get to the bottom of the Peter Parrish mystery once and for all.

  All he wanted was the chance to confront the man with what he’d done—what they’d both done. He hoped then he could start looking forward—maybe one day he might even forgive himself. Performing a powerful tumble turn using just one leg, he cruised to the side just as Maxie walked through the door. He huffed a humourless laugh, guessing she’d take one look at his scars and probably faint. Even his brothers had flinched when they had first seen them. Like the painkillers he refused to take, nothing could change the past, but to have her see him stumbling and scarred felt like some sort of penance. His guilt for what had happened all those years ago required constant feeding.

  ‘Hello, Diego,’ she said, seeming surprised to see him. ‘You don’t mind if I take a swim, do you?’

  ‘Do you want to wait until I get out?’

  ‘I can, if that’s what you’d prefer?’

  ‘No problem for me—help yourself.’ He swung out of the pool on his arms and then, predictably, after his ease of movement in the water where he was weightless, he stumbled. It took him a moment to regain his balance and straighten up. As the pool water streamed from him he waited for the inevitable gasp.

  ‘Is your leg troubling you again?’ she asked, staring at it intently. ‘I expect the adrenalin from the bike ride has worn off.’ She laughed. ‘Or maybe you’ve overdone it in the pool,’ she said with more concern, glancing at the settling water.

  Brushing past her, he reached for a towel. He saw her wince when he staggered, and the next moment she had reached out to grab it for him. ‘I can pick up a towel without your help, thank you.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Diego!’ Picking the towel up, she threw it at him.

  Catching the towel knocked him off balance again, and he had to hop a couple of times before he could regain it. ‘Well?’ he demanded when she stood staring at him.

  She could see that Diego was trying to keep the pressure off his injured leg, but what else had rattled his cage? The scars, Maxie guessed. They were bad. And she could imagine he didn’t want anyone seeing them. Well, it was too late now. She could see a lot of scar tissue she was sure would loosen if treated with the proper emollients, which suggested to her that Diego had performed his exercises regularly to build back muscle power, but that he had neglected to treat the recovering skin.

  And she wasn’t here to offer a diagnosis, Maxie reminded herself firmly. She was here to swim. It was important to remain detached and businesslike, she thought to herself as she removed her sarong. So that was why her hands were trembling.

  Thankfully her swimming costume was respectable in the extreme. She went swimming to exercise, not to flaunt her body, though Diego’s lazy appraisal made her wonder why she’d bothered putting a costume on at all.

  ‘This is a fabulous pool,’ she said, giving herself an excuse to turn away. ‘Would the wedding guests be allowed to use it?’

  ‘Of course they would.’

  Hearing the same tension in his voice, she decided to have it out with him. ‘Have I done something to upset you? I apologise if I have. Or is it your scars?’ she asked bluntly, unable to ignore the elephant in the room any longer. ‘Do you think I can’t bear to look at them? Do you think I’m revolted by them? Is that how shallow you think I am?’

  ‘I have no thoughts on the subject at all.’

  ‘Really?’ she said in a challenging tone. ‘Then please stop staring at me like
that. If you don’t want me to use the pool, I’ll go.’

  A cynical smile tugged at Diego’s lips. ‘Brave talk, Maxie.’

  ‘Brave?’ she said. ‘You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, Diego?’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ He wasn’t smiling now.

  ‘You’re brave,’ she said bluntly, holding his cold gaze without blinking. ‘Everyone knows how brave you are. Don’t you prove it each day you exercise to get your strength back? When we all know how monotonous that must be for you, especially with so little to show for it, and just the hope that some time in the future you’ll be fully mobile again. Wasn’t it a brave decision to let your horse live when everyone said his leg was beyond repair and he should be shot? Holly tells me a lot of things about you,’ she said before he could get a word in. ‘So if you’re so brave you won’t mind me touching your scars. You won’t mind me massaging them—easing them—helping you …’

  When he threw his fierce dark head back and laughed in her face, she added, ‘Or are you just too damn proud to accept anyone’s help, Diego?’

  ‘You’ve got some nerve,’ he grated.

  ‘Yes, I have,’ she agreed in the same calm voice, ‘so you can stop with the menacing act. I’m here. I’m alone. And I’m not afraid of you. What are you afraid of, Diego? Failure? Are you afraid you’ll never play top-class polo again? If that’s the case you’ll let me try to help you. If that’s not the case, then you’re just the most unpleasant man I’ve ever met!’

  Diego was staring at her as if he couldn’t believe what she’d said. But someone had to say it. She knew how hideous it must be for him to have her see him in pain, but she was here and there was no avoiding it. Better to tell him what she was thinking, rather than hide behind awkward politeness for the rest of her stay.

  ‘I believe I can help you,’ she said with conviction. ‘I learned some massage techniques from a physio in the hospital and they helped my mother.’

  ‘And do you really think I’m going to let you try them out on me?’

  ‘Why not?’ She held the hostile stare unflinching. ‘What do you have to lose, Diego?’