The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child by Anne Mather

in frustration. It was a week since his father had made his first call on this subject. Now, although he had hoped to bring his son better news, it seemed the situation had got progressively worse.
    ‘But can’t Anita handle it?’ Alejandro exhorted impatiently. ‘For God’s sake, Miranda is only nineteen!’
    ‘Anita says she is at her wit’s end. Your going away at this time has only exacerbated the problem. Miranda will not listen to either Anita or her counsellor.’ His father paused. ‘As I understand it, your final meeting was today,yes? I know you had planned to continue on to Paris, but I really think you should come home, Alejandro. If you care about the girl at all, you owe it to her to try and make her see reason.’
    ‘I am not a professional, Papa.’ Alejandro pushed agitated fingers through his hair.
    ‘But you do seem to be the only person Miranda will listen to,’ declared Roberto Cabral heavily. ‘Please, Alejandro. Do not make me have to beg.’
    Alejandro was closing the phone when he became aware of Isobel standing in the doorway. She had pulled on her shirt again, but it barely reached her thighs, and her feet were bare.
    ‘What’s going on?’ she asked, her eyes puzzled, and he wished he had the right to tell her.
    ‘It was my father,’ he said, slipping the phone into the pocket of his trousers. He pulled a face. ‘Regrettably, I have to return to Rio as soon as I can get a flight.’
    Isobel’s stomach hollowed. ‘To Rio?’ she said, feeling an awful sense of abandonment.
    ‘I am afraid so.’ Alejandro sounded as if he meant it, but what did she know?
    ‘Is something wrong?’ she ventured cautiously. ‘Is your mother ill?’ She couldn’t think of anything else that might warrant such urgency.
    ‘Nao.’ Alejandro forced himself to brush past her without taking her in his arms again as he badly wanted to. ‘It is a business matter,’ he lied, going into the bedroom and rescuing the rest of his clothes. And, when she followed him to stand watching his hasty dressing, he added, ‘Although my father retired some time ago, he still takes an active interest in the company’s affairs.’
    Isobel bit her lip. ‘I see.’
    Alejandro was sure she didn’t see, but there was no waywithout betraying a confidence that he could reassure her. Instead, he said, ‘Do not look like that, querida . I want to see you again. It is just—’
    ‘Business,’ Isobel inserted flatly. ‘I know.’ Her lips twisted. ‘You’d better hurry. I wouldn’t want you to miss your plane.’
    Alejandro finished buttoning his shirt and regarded her wearily. ‘Do not speak so bitterly, Isobella. If there was any way I could get out of this commitment I would.’
    ‘Yeah, right.’ Patently she didn’t believe him, and Alejandro desperately didn’t want it to end this way.
    ‘Cara,’ he said persuasively, ‘I will come back. To London, I mean. This is not the end for us, I promise.’
    Isobel pressed her lips together and shook her head. She wanted to believe him. She really did. But for him to say he was leaving the country just as they’d become intimate seemed fated somehow.
    ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said, but Alejandro couldn’t leave it like that.
    ‘It does matter,’ he said, pushing his feet into his shoes. ‘I would not want you to think I do not care about you.’
    ‘And do you?’ asked Isobel between clenched teeth, knowing in her heart of hearts that he could say anything right now to appease her.
    ‘Of course I do.’ He regarded her intently for a few heated moments, because he knew if he touched her again he wouldn’t be able to let her go. He added, ‘Do not imagine I am unaware of my—responsibilities, cara .’ A faint colour invaded his cheeks. ‘You are right to doubt me. I have been—how do you say?—reckless, nao ? I should have taken precautions, but—’
    Isobel’s cry of anguish arrested his words. ‘Don’t,’ she commanded unsteadily.