The Forbidden Cabrera Brother Read online

  Not when Dante was in the driving seat, which he was.

  ‘We’re here.’

  Caitlin surfaced and stared at the sprawling glass building facing her, abuzz with activity, its harsh, clinical contours softened by thoughtful planting of trees and shrubbery in strategic places.

  Like royalty, Dante dumped the car right outside the building and it was efficiently collected by someone she could only assume was his driver, who had been forewarned to meet them there.

  He strode into the white brightly lit corridors of the hospital and crowds parted. He glanced neither left nor right. He led the way with certainty and she tripped along in his wake, profoundly relieved that he knew just where he was going and what he was doing.

  She spoke absolutely no Spanish and she couldn’t think how difficult everything would have been had she come here on her own.

  He spoke in rapid Spanish to a consultant who had been summoned, and then finally turned to her.

  ‘I appreciate that you must find all of this very confusing.’

  ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ Caitlin admitted with a smile. ‘I have no idea how I would have coped. I would probably still be in a taxi trying to get the driver to understand where I needed to go.’

  Dante shot her a sideways glance. ‘I’m surprised you don’t know any Spanish at all, given the fact that you’re engaged to a Spaniard.’

  For once, there wasn’t that jagged edge of suspicion underlying his remark. He sounded genuinely curious as they began to walk along the corridor to the room previously indicated by the consultant.

  ‘Alejandro did try,’ she admitted. ‘It only took him five seconds to realise that he wasn’t going to get anywhere when it came to me picking up a second language.’

  ‘Not interested?’

  ‘Very interested but my brain just doesn’t seem equipped to handle it.’ She laughed.

  Dante’s dark eyes slid over to her. That laugh... As infectious as her smile. Unconsciously he glanced down at her sexy, round curves, the softness of her fair skin, the vibrant colours of her copper hair, which she had tied back into something resembling an untidy bun. She smelled faintly of flowers and sunshine. There was something intensely appealing about her lack of artifice and that appealing something dragged on his senses, made him hyperaware of her in ways he knew he shouldn’t be. He knew the dangers of different. He knew what shame and wounded pride tasted like and he knew that the road that led there started with irrational temptation. It had that one and only time. It was a road he was never going to walk down again. On so many levels, the woman standing here was wrong and yet...

  When he thought of the sort of woman he was destined for, a woman like Luisa, other thoughts pushed their way through, discomforting, uncontrollable thoughts that had no place in his life. Of course, he would never go there. He was supremely confident when it came to his ironclad willpower, but the mere fact that he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering rankled.

  ‘Somewhere along the line, I think my parents gave up on me being academic and so, in my head, I just ended up assuming that I couldn’t do anything that wasn’t creative. Hence my love of art and photography.’

  ‘You should learn.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It might come in useful,’ Dante interposed drily. ‘Considering the circumstances.’

  Caitlin laughed again. ‘Oh, Alejandro and I won’t be...’ She went scarlet and came to a grinding stop.

  ‘Won’t be what?’ Dante encouraged softly, his ears pricking up.

  ‘Nothing,’ Caitlin muttered. How could she have let all her defences drop with him? How had she managed to let that charm get under her skin and very nearly pull the rug from under her feet?

  He was staring at her. She could feel the insistence of his eyes boring into her skin and she purposefully kept her head averted and, thankfully, they had landed up outside Alejandro’s room so she had a very good excuse to ignore the guy towering next to her so that she could focus on her supposed fiancé, who was lying on the bed, for all the world looking as if he just happened to be in a deep sleep.

  As peaceful as a baby, she thought, leaving her to deal with the fallout on her own.

  ‘If it’s okay, I’ll go see him...on my own, if you don’t mind.’

  Dante didn’t mind. He was still trying to work out what she had just said. It had slipped out and she had immediately regretted the oversight. He knew that and it wasn’t just because she had gone a beetroot-red shade of intense discomfort, the intense discomfort of an adult who had very nearly broken the tidings to a gullible four-year-old that Santa wasn’t real. He had sensed it, had sensed her horror at something that had very nearly been said.

  What was it, though?

  He was excellent when it came to reading people and reading, more importantly, what was between the lines. It was a talent he had ruthlessly exploited over the years, because it had always given him the upper hand when it came to the cut and thrust of dealmaking.

  You never made it far by believing anything anybody said to you. He certainly never trusted anyone unless they had gone the distance to earn it. Few ever had.

  Dante believed every word Caitlin had told him about her relationship with his brother, namely that they went back a way and had started out as great friends. He could see the friend bit clearly enough. It was what she omitted to say he found so intriguing, and that near slip-up she had narrowly escaped had compounded his suspicions.

  She’d hurried into the room, closing the door behind her, and he watched through the pane of glass in the door as she pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down, taking one of Alejandro’s hands in hers for a quick pat and then leaning forward to talk.

  There was no gentle caressing of the brow or tender kiss on the mouth, and after that perfunctory pat she had dropped his hand with shameless speed.

  He would have given his right arm to have been a fly on the wall because, whatever she was saying, it didn’t appear, reading her body language from behind, that she was soothing him with sweet nothings.

  Dante spun round and was helping himself to some drinking water from a plastic cup when she approached to briskly thank him for delivering her.

  ‘I can make my way to the shops from here,’ she said firmly. ‘We’re in the centre of things. I won’t need you to traipse behind me. If you want to visit with Alejandro, I can either meet you back here or else I’ll grab a taxi to the house.’

  ‘How did you find him?’

  ‘He seems comfortable enough.’ She sincerely hoped he’d heard every word she’d said when she’d told him in no uncertain terms that he’d been an idiot to have consumed his body weight in champagne and that she was really out of her depth having to cope with Dante, who watched her so closely that she felt uncomfortable every time she drew breath.

  ‘Honestly, Alejandro,’ she’d all but wailed, ‘what on earth possessed us?’ She wondered whether she had imagined the flicker of his eyes when she had said that. If he could hear her, then he was probably trying hard to blink in agreement.

  ‘Wait here. I will come to the shops with you. You’re about to tell me that there’s no need but I wouldn’t bother to waste my breath if I were you. You’re new to Madrid and it’s the very least I can do.’ Under any other circumstances, Dante would have spent fifteen minutes with his brother and then continued on to his high-rise office in the city centre to pick up where he had left off on the work front, but the green-eyed, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-her-mouth redhead, trying not to look appalled, suddenly made all things work-related fade into the background.

  ‘Fine.’ Caitlin shrugged and took a seat outside the room and waited. For the first time, something loomed even more stomach-churning than the prospect of Dante lurking like a hangman’s noose, and that was the thought of a shopping expedition she couldn’t afford.

  He wasn’t long. Ten minute
s at the most. Well, she thought, they barely had anything to say to one another when Alejandro was on top form, so lying unconscious on a hospital bed wasn’t exactly going to be conducive to a lengthy visit.

  ‘That was quick.’ She’d aimed for sarcasm. She ended up with compassion because it was sad. Dante looked at her, his handsome face darkly rejecting the soft empathy in her voice and yet...as he raked his fingers through his hair and continued to stare, the atmosphere suddenly shifted. He wasn’t retaliating, calling her to account, slamming the door in her face. He looked lost for words and, in that moment, intensely human and vulnerable.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said softly, reaching to rest her small hand on his arm.

  ‘I don’t do pity.’

  ‘I’m still sorry. I always longed for a sibling but it wasn’t to be. I’m sorry for both of you that, as brothers, you’ve drifted so far apart.’

  ‘These things happen.’

  ‘They do,’ Caitlin agreed. Their eyes were locked and she had unconsciously stepped a bit closer towards him. ‘But there’s usually a reason behind it. I’m sad for you both because you seem to have just drifted into silence. It’s crazy.’

  ‘Not crazy,’ Dante said roughly. ‘In a busy life, things can sometimes drift. My fault. My brother’s fault. Who knows? I agree...it’s...not ideal.’

  Caitlin smiled. ‘Not how I would have described it...’

  Dante smiled back. ‘That’s because you’re emotional and I’m not.’

  The silence that fell was brief, thrumming with something he couldn’t put his finger on and broken when a woman said, from behind, ‘Sorry, but am I breaking something up here?’

  Dante spun round and Caitlin expelled a long breath and blinked at the leggy brunette staring at them with narrowed, assessing eyes.

  ‘Luisa.’ Dante pushed himself off the wall, his brain failing to instantly engage. It was sufficiently engaged, however, to bring home to him that Luisa was the last person he had any interest in seeing. She had been hard work at the aborted party the evening before, trying desperately to revive a relationship that was well and truly in the throes of rigor mortis. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Luisa pouted. ‘I’ve come to see your brother, Dante. What else?’ Her eyes were chips of diamond-hard ice as they briefly settled on Caitlin, who was fervently wishing that she could be anywhere but here. Deliberately eliminated from the conversation, she could only hover, acutely uncomfortable at being third wheel in whatever drama was unfolding between Dante and the other woman.

  ‘I popped in to have a chat with your parents...’ Luisa half turned, drawing Dante into a private huddle with her. ‘They’re so worried but I reassured them that Alejandro will be just fine.’ She smiled broadly and lightly rested her hand on Dante’s shoulder, making small stroking movements against the sleeve of his polo shirt. ‘Maybe...’ the smile was coquettish now and she had lowered her voice to a husky murmur ‘...you and I could go somewhere and grab a coffee? Maybe some lunch? That lovely little place we went to a few months ago would be perfect...’

  ‘Did my mother happen to mention that I would be here?’

  Luisa laughed nervously.

  ‘No coffee, Luisa,’ he said on an impatient sigh. ‘No lunch. I’m heading into town. Caitlin needs clothes because she will be staying on. I am taking her shopping.’ He glanced down at Caitlin and Caitlin saw a flash of venom cross Luisa’s perfect face, gone in a heartbeat, replaced with a gentle smile of understanding.

  ‘You’re such a gentleman, Dante.’ Luisa forced the smile in Caitlin’s direction and flicked some non-existent fluff from her figure-hugging dress before shaking her hair and throwing back her shoulders. ‘Of course, you must look out for your brother’s fiancée, seeing that she has no one here at the moment and must be grief-stricken at what’s happened. I’m sure I’ll see you when things settle down.’

  During this interchange, Caitlin hadn’t said a word and she didn’t as she and Dante both left the hospital and made their way into the bustling city.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THERE WAS NO WAY to be polite and beat about the bush so Caitlin took the bull by the horns and said, bluntly, ‘Is there some kind of market I could go to?’

  She was discovering that going anywhere on foot was unacceptable to Dante. He had driven his sports car directly to the hospital, where it had been collected by his driver. She guessed it had been returned to the house, because no sooner were they out of the hospital and standing outside in baking heat than another car showed up, this time a black four-wheel drive with darkly tinted windows.

  She was bundled into blissful cold and immediately turned to him to repeat her question.

  ‘Why would you want to go to a market?’ He frowned. ‘Special dietary requirements? Tell me and I’ll instruct a member of staff.’

  ‘Not a food market, Dante. A flea market where I can buy clothes.’

  ‘It’s false economy buying cheap tat,’ Dante returned smoothly. He spoke to his driver in rapid Spanish and she lapsed into fretful silence as they were driven to and deposited on a tree-lined avenue where elegant buildings with discreet pale awnings advertised a range of exclusive designer stores. Gucci rubbed shoulders with Louis Vuitton and Jimmy Choo, and some names she didn’t recognise looked even more upmarket.

  ‘Dante!’ She turned to him with desperation as she was hustled out of the car to find herself on the pavement. ‘I can’t afford to shop in a place like this!’

  ‘You’re engaged to my brother.’

  ‘What does that have to do with anything?’ She literally had a vision of fifty-pound notes blowing away from her savings account.

  ‘This is a ridiculous conversation. I can’t believe my brother would not spend money on you.’

  ‘I prefer to spend my own money buying my own clothes,’ she retorted angrily. ‘What sort of world do you live in, Dante? No, forget I said that! You enjoy throwing money at the women you go out with because it’s easier than the other option!’

  ‘You’re crossing lines.’ His jaw hardened. ‘Be careful.’

  ‘Or else what?’ Caitlin rolled her eyes and placed her hand belligerently on her hips. ‘Dante, it’s easier to spend money than it is to spend quality time, isn’t it?’

  Dante flushed with outrage. ‘More tête-à-têtes with my brother about me?’

  ‘No! I’m just observant. I can see that Luisa is besotted with you but it’s not returned—and, yes, Alejandro did say that you weren’t keen on the notion of settling down.’

  ‘Nor, presumably, is he, or he would have done it sooner.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t like accepting stuff from guys. It doesn’t feel right. And I can’t afford to buy anything in any of the shops on this fancy street.’

  This was a first for Dante. The idea that a woman might resent having presents lavished on her puzzled him. What she viewed as some kind of insult to her feminism, he saw as an expression of appreciation.

  ‘Caitlin, you’re going to be here for at least a week. Who knows? Maybe longer. If you can’t afford to spend money on yourself, then allow me. I do so on behalf of my brother. He can pay me back in due course, if it makes you feel easier. I hear what you’re saying about not wanting to accept anything from anyone, but I feel that Alejandro would not want to think of you traipsing down to the local flea market. You’re going to be entering a whole new dynamic when you marry my brother. Why not start adapting now? Besides, the flea market only opens on a Sunday.’

  ‘Because people get engaged doesn’t automatically mean they’re going to get married,’ Caitlin said vaguely. She realised that the deeper she dug her heels in, the odder it would seem to a guy like Dante, who lived in a completely different world from her. Alejandro shared that world. He would lavish gifts on whatever partner he ended up with.

  She wasn’t going to win this o
ne.

  ‘I suppose Alejandro—’

  ‘Good.’ He spun round on his heels and swept her along to a shopping experience she hadn’t banked on.

  This was how the other half lived. She’d seen it on a grand scale in his mansion. The priceless artwork, the acres of polished marble, the invisibility of his staff paid to make his life as fuss-free as possible.

  For the next three hours, she experienced it first-hand when it was exclusively directed at her.

  He had chairs brought for him so that he could sit, his veiled expression revealing very little as clothes were fetched and carried. When money was no object, the attentiveness of the various boutique owners was ingratiating. They fawned and scurried and couldn’t do enough.

  And something deep inside Caitlin responded with a feminine enjoyment that was shameful because it just wasn’t her.

  Even before everything with her parents had fallen apart, plunging her into a financial nightmare, spending money on expensive clothes had never been her thing. Maybe it was her shape. In her head, expensive clothes were designed for a certain type of figure, one she didn’t possess. Maybe it was the way she had been brought up. Her parents had always been sensible with money because they’d never had a great deal of it and it was an attitude that had been passed down to her.

  Shopping with Dante Cabrera was not a sensible experience. The opposite. He snapped his fingers and people hastened to please. She was the beneficiary of his largesse and it was thrilling. She didn’t want it to be, but it was.

  Silk and soft cottons were laid for her inspection. The finest leather was brought out on show. She had had to resist the temptation to lovingly stroke some of the items of clothing.

  ‘If you want an objective opinion,’ Dante had drawled, standing next to her in that very first exclusive boutique, when the glamorous woman in charge had hurried off to find the right size for a dress Caitlin had guiltily admitted to really liking, ‘then feel free.’

  ‘No, thank you,’ she had responded politely. But she had still felt his presence as he’d accompanied her on the shopping trip, had found her mind wandering back time and again to those dark, hooded eyes, his lean beauty, to the insane appeal of his lazy self-assurance.