Chapter 8
Iwanted to cry, but instead I was dry-eyed with frustration and anger. None of this was making any sense—Bella had visited me off and on during my time of exile and never once had she ever suggested that my banishment might be over. Of course, I’d kept insisting it didn’t matter, that I never wanted to see Mariposa or Granda again, but she had to have known it was deep hurt causing me to say such things. She hadn’t even so much as hinted there was a softening in Granda’s attitude, or the possibility that I could have returned to Spain as myself.
I’d learned long ago that with Bella you had to take the good with the bad, and there was no question that she wasn’t powerfully self-motivated. She made up for that with her charm and generosity, just as she had after the debacle in the caves, and you either accepted her or lost her. And I didn’t know what to do with this sense of betrayal running so deep.
She’d been frightened when she came to me, there’d been no denying that, and I would have done anything to help her. She could have simply told me the truth and I would have come to Mariposa as her if she truly needed me to.
But Bella had always had an elastic arrangement with the truth, one of those things you simply had to accept about her. I’d always known it, and it did me no good to get angry, but her recent prevarications were taking some getting used to.
The very last thing I wanted to do was spend more time with Ian and Marcus, but the Queen’s Room was getting stuffy in the midday heat. Glancing at my discarded sandals, I groaned at the thought of putting them on again. The silk slacks were now hopelessly crumpled, there was a splash of spilled coffee on the top that I couldn’t remember getting, and everything in my closet was too fancy, too precious. I needed to find something comfortable, just for quiet times, and something to walk in. If I had to be Bella twenty-four/seven I would go insane.
The brilliant idea was there a moment later—I would take one of the cars and drive down into the village. Santa Maria de Fe was not a cosmopolitan place, but it had street vendors and tourist shops. I would be able to find a pair of flat shoes and some plain sundresses to hide out in, to remind me that Kitty Whitehead still existed. Not Bella, not Podge, but Kitty. It was the only way I could survive.
I found Maldonado in the kitchen, sharing a cup of coffee with the cook, but he rose abruptly, all starched butler behavior. “Would you like Selene to make you something for lunch, Miss Bella? Mr. Ian usually eats in the field and Mr. Marcus and the cousins have gone out.”
Normally the thought of Marcus going off with Mary Alice would have left me feeling abandoned, but all I could feel now was relief and a quiet amusement at the thought of Marcus stuck with Mary Alice. “I’m fine. In fact, I thought I might go out myself. You mentioned there were several cars available.”
“Yes, miss. Your Alfa Romeo was recently tuned.”
Shit, I’d forgotten about Bella’s Alfa. “I’m not sure if I’m in the mood for a sports car,” I said. I was a relatively timid driver with a strong dislike of heavy traffic and aggressive drivers, and an Alfa was probably a very aggressive car. Even more important, I’d never learned to drive a stick, and Bella’s car hadn’t been an automatic. I didn’t even know if they made automatic Alfas.
“I’m afraid that’s all that’s available, miss. Mr. Marcus took the Bentley and the Mercedes is having an oil change.”
A Mercedes and a Bentley probably wouldn’t provide an easier driving experience, and I was about to change my mind when Ian strode into the room. He looked tired, a little dusty, and not particularly happy to see me. The feeling was mutual.
“Have you seen my brother, Maldonado?”
The old butler shook his head. “He’s taken the cousins out for the day—Mrs. Ingram said she had errands to run. So does Miss Bella.”
Ian finally looked at me. “So what’s keeping you?”
“Nothing. I just wasn’t in the mood for a sports car. Though it’s probably tame enough...”
Ian snorted with laughter. “Not after all the money you put into it, souping it up. Don’t tell me you’ve turned chicken shit in your old age.”
“I’m only twenty-eight!” I shot back.
“Twenty-nine,” he corrected me, and I cursed inwardly. “And I’ve got to go to town myself. I’ll drive you. That is, if you’ll let me.”
The idea was tempting, yet I couldn’t like the idea of racing around the countryside with him at the wheel. “Can you handle an Alfa?”
“Bella-Beast, I can handle anything, including you,” he said. “Give me half an hour and we’ll go.”
“I don’t think...”
“Did you want to go to town or not?” Ian was his usual, impatient self.
I wanted to stick my tongue out at him. “I’ll be ready.”
I cursed myself for the next thirty minutes. I ought to keep as far away from Ian’s sharp gaze as I could. Marcus was a different matter—he’d accepted me as Bella without a second thought, but I wasn’t so sure about Ian. He’d caught me on too many little slips, and every now and then I would catch him looking at me with the intensity that had always made me edgy.
Though there was no real reason he would suspect, no obvious reason for Podge to be there in Bella’s place, particularly since apparently I’d been invited on my own, something Bella had forgotten to tell me. In the end it wasn’t surprising. Bella always said and did exactly as she wanted, and the rest of us, with the exception of Ian, had gone along with it all, dazzled by her.
In fact, Ian’s suspicious attitude probably had nothing to do with his long-lost cousin Kitty and more to do with his life-long irritation with Bella. He just wanted to shake the unshakeable cousin.
Their antipathy had been so strong that I’d always wondered whether he secretly liked her. If he had, those feelings were long gone.
What Would Bella Do? Not let Ian the Wretch demoralize her, that’s for sure. If I could deal with Ian, I could deal with anyone, and a ride down to town would give me the chance to hone my skills, wipe away any possible doubts. I was ready to be Bella in all her glory, at least for the afternoon.
The bright red Alfa was waiting for me at the kitchen door, just where Ian had dropped me off the day before, and I took in its beautiful lines with just a trace of trepidation. Bella liked speed—she’d cursed my aging Subaru as we’d driven down to Boston for my makeover, and I knew this thing could probably make a showing at the Grand Prix.
Ian strolled out of the stables across the way, greeting me with mock amazement. “Bella-Beast on time? Will wonders never cease? I assumed I’d be waiting for you for at least an hour.”
Don’t let him get to you, I reminded myself. “I can always go alone if you’re busy with something.”
“My afternoon is yours, my queen,” he said extravagantly, and memory came flooding back. He used to call her Queen Isabella in that mocking voice, something that had annoyed Bella no end.
“I think I prefer Bella-Beast,” I said as I climbed into the passenger’s seat, wrapping a Hermès scarf around my hair.
“I think I don’t give a rat’s ass what you prefer,” he replied, still standing by the driver’s side door. “You’re really going to let me drive ‘my precious’?”
I managed a luxuriant stretch. “I feel like having a chauffeur.”
A moment later we were off.
He drove very, very fast. The main road down from Mariposa was wide and winding, and he took it at breathtaking speeds, the wind whipping past our heads and thankfully making conversation impossible. I did my best to keep my expression sanguine, all the while I was digging my nails into the leather cushion beneath me and surreptitiously pressing on my nonexistent brake pedals. I had no idea whether he was deliberately trying to terrorize me or loved speed as much as Bella did, but by the time we arrived in the small town, I was ready to throw up in his lap.
“I didn’t make you nervous, did I?” he asked in a dulcet voice.
“Me? Don’t be absurd!” I replied, a little weaker than I could have hoped. “Where shall I meet you?”
“Nowhere, Bella-Beast. I’m coming with you.”
“You said you had business in town.”
“I did. Business getting reacquainted with my long-lost cousin.”
That didn’t help my nerves. “Five years isn’t that long a time, Ian,” I managed.
“No, it isn’t. And yet sometimes it can seem like you’re an entirely different person.”
I really wanted to puke. Instead, I forced a smile. “I’m looking for flat sandals and a couple of loose sundresses. Then I have to stop at the Pharmacia and buy tampons and condoms. Are you going to help with that?”
He didn’t even blink. “I can lend you the condoms.”
I didn’t blink either. “But I doubt you have tampons.”
“Someone might have left some behind.”
“I only use a certain brand.”
“Oh, really? Are you built strangely down there?”
God, I wanted to slap him. “I’ll meet you at the Pelican in an hour,” I said, naming our favorite meeting place in an effort to shut him up.
“The Pelican’s been closed for ten years now and you know it. The hotel bar will do.” And he strode off without a backward glance.
There was no doubt—Ian was winning the battle of wills. I was going to need to keep away from him if I wanted any kind of peace of mind. I still didn’t believe he suspected—he was just trying to rattle his detested cousin. Unfortunately, he was doing too good a job.
Not that he’d detested me, but he would once he found out what I had done. We’d always had a wary truce, thrown together by Marcus and Bella’s mutual infatuation, and beneath his sharp tongue had been, if not kindness, at least no enmity.
The return of Bella Whitehead was greeted with joy and affection by the merchants, and it had been a simple matter to find a pair of plain, flat leather sandals and a couple of loose cotton dresses. At the last minute, I splurged on a pair of running shoes, cursing myself for not demanding them earlier. Even a style icon could use sneakers, though Bella’s probably cost hundreds of dollars.
Which made me ten minutes early to the darkened confines of the old hotel bar, where Ian sat drinking a cup of coffee.
He eyed the small bags I carried, but made no comment, when I’d braced herself for snark. “You want something to drink or shall we head back?”
“Marcus is probably back by now, don’t you think?” I don’t know why I said it, but the sudden tightening of Ian’s jaw almost made me regret it.
“Since I don’t know where he’s gone, I could hardly guess when he’d return. Are you hoping to rekindle your grand passion?”
“Why not?” I said recklessly. “Maybe we were meant to be together after all.” I wasn’t quite sure why I said it, I only know I wanted to annoy him, and it worked better than I would have expected.
“He’s not your type,” he growled.
“Tall, blond, and gorgeous?” I said. “Maybe you think I’d be better off with someone dark and dangerous, like you?”
He’d risen from his barstool, and he stood there for a moment. “At least you recognize I’m dangerous,” he said in a dulcet tone that did just what it was supposed to do. Send a shiver down my spine.
The fact that it sent a betraying heat as well only made it worse. “Is that a threat?” I demanded.
He took the packages from my hands. “Now why would I be a threat to you, Bella-Beast?” he said reasonably enough. “Looks like you forgot something?”
“What?” I demanded as we stepped back out in the blinding sunlight.
“Your condoms. If you find yourself overcome with need, you know where to find me.”
“I expect Marcus has his own.”
He drove even faster on the way back. “This isn’t the way back to Mariposa,” I pointed out with gritted teeth as we roared up a narrow road.
“I’m taking you the scenic way. You always preferred it.”
No, I did not. The road ran along the cliffs overlooking the sea, approaching the house from behind, and it curved and swooped like a roller coaster ride. All three of my cousins had liked nothing better than to drive like hell, and all I could do was hold on and plaster a grim smile to my face. Things hadn’t changed.
We’d reached the peak of the hill behind Mariposa, where I half expected Ian to do his patented bat-turn with the help of the emergency brake, but nothing happened. We kept going, higher and higher, and sooner or later we were going to run out of road and I was going to scream.
With a screech of tires, he managed to pull a one-eighty, and I glared at him. My hair was whipping into my eyes, despite the expensive scarf, and enough was enough.
“Could you slow the fuck down,” I said tightly as he careened up the narrow road, away from the cliffs.
“No,” he said, an odd note in his voice, and I realized his hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel. “The accelerator is stuck and the brakes aren’t working.”
I didn’t scream, I just stared at the deep trees on either side of the narrow road and knew I was going to die. I ought to tell Ian who I was, I thought in an almost dazed state of mind. It would be very awkward for Bella to come home to find herself dead and buried.
I clutched the seat tighter and shut my eyes. Maybe if I couldn’t see it, it wouldn’t happen.
“We’re not going to die.” Ian’s rough voice was ruthless, “so don’t start looking all tragic.”
“Don’t look at me!” I screeched. “Watch the road!”
“That’s the last place we’re going!” he snapped back. “Put your head down between your knees.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re going to crash, you idiot, and I’m trying to save your life.” He put one hand on my neck and shoved me down, then yanked the steering wheel with tremendous force.
I’d never liked thrill rides, and roller coasters terrified me. The only thing that made them bearable was watching, and with my head crammed down beneath the dashboard, I couldn’t see a damn thing as we seemed to take flight. I did the only thing I could think of—I prayed, as I felt Ian’s hand at the back of my neck, holding me down.
We slammed into something, my head bashed against the dashboard, but we still hadn’t stopped moving, though we’d slowed down. I tried to look up, but Ian kept me down as we plowed through what I could only guess was forest, the whip of the branches against the car, the jerkiness beneath the tires as we finally, finally ground to a thunderous stop.