CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER SEVEN

I T BECAME APPARENT as soon as they walked into the restaurant—impossibly sophisticated, with soft music playing, big open spaces and tables arranged around a central open-air pond where exotic fish swam lazily, all overlooked by a wall of green foliage—that Sadie was woefully underdressed.

It was in the raised brow of the impeccable ma?tre d’ and in the looks of the other diners as they were led to their table in a—thankfully—discreet corner. The clientele was sleek and beautiful, casual but elegant, the women in silk and linen, men in suits. By the time she was sitting down opposite Quin her face was burning with humiliation.

He glanced at her as he flicked out a linen napkin. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘What do you think?’ she hissed, wishing she could wrap her own napkin around her, to hide her tatty T-shirt. ‘I’m completely out of place here. I can’t believe they let me come in with you.’ She added, ‘If it was your intention to humiliate me then it’s worked beautifully.’

Quin put his napkin down and looked around, and then at Sadie, whose face was still burning. He had the grace to look guilty. He said, with genuine contrition, ‘That wasn’t my intention at all. I’m not so petty. It just didn’t occur to me... I should have given you time to change.’

Sadie looked at him. She believed him. Her anger fizzled out and she made a face. ‘I’m not sure I have anything smart to change into, except for that dress I wore the other night, and that’s not appropriate either.’ She seized the moment and pointed out, ‘Maybe it didn’t occur to you because you’re used to walking into places like this without a second thought.’

He looked at her sharply. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘The fact is that you were born into this world. You take it for granted.’ She shook her head. ‘Why didn’t you tell me about your family? About where you came from? You never even mentioned your brother.’ She hoped the lingering hurt wasn’t apparent in her voice.

He looked at her. ‘You really want to talk about this now?’

‘Why not?’

She’d laid herself bare last night, but Sadie held her breath, not sure if Quin would comply.

But eventually he said, ‘Because I was escaping them—and that world. Being with someone who didn’t know who I was with all its accompanying noise was...a novelty. I liked being anonymous.’

Sadie absorbed that. ‘Why did you need to escape?’

A muscle pulsed in his jaw. He didn’t look at her now. He said, ‘Because I’d found out that everything I’d grown up taking for granted was a lie.’

‘Do you mean about your father not being your biological father?’

He nodded. ‘I only found out when we had an argument because I didn’t want to go into the family empire, like my brother did. It explained why I’d always felt like an outsider in my own family. He’d tolerated me for the sake of the family reputation.’

‘The articles I read said you were disinherited.’

He looked at her. Proud. ‘I disinherited myself, and that’s when I went to Sao Sebastiao to work on my own tech stuff.’ His gaze narrowed on her. ‘And then I met you.’

Back to her. Obviously his omission wasn’t as big a sin as her actions.

Sadie suddenly had so many questions, and was determined not to let him change the subject, but at that moment she registered a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Someone appeared at her shoulder. She nearly jumped out of her skin, inadvertently knocking over an empty glass with her hand.

It was only the waiter. Heart pounding, she apologised and righted the glass. She realised her hands were trembling with the sudden rush of fright and adrenalin.

The waiter poured them water and left again.

Quin was frowning. ‘What was that about?’

Sadie looked at Quin, mortified. ‘I’m sorry, it’s just that I’m not used to sitting with my back to the people around me.’

Quin looked at Sadie. She was pale. Her hands were trembling slightly. She glanced over her shoulder again and he noticed how she let her hair fall so that her face was hidden. It was a move that had obviously become habitual.

He stood up. ‘I’ll switch with you.’

Sadie looked up at him, eyes wide. ‘Do you mind?’

Quin shook his head. She stood up and they moved around the table. She sat down in his seat. It was only when Quin sat down that he was suddenly aware that he felt a prickle of discomfort.

He suddenly recognised that very primitive instinct that must be within everyone—to feel a sense of danger at not knowing what was behind you. It did make him feel a little vulnerable...

‘I’m sorry,’ Sadie was saying. ‘You must think I’m being ridiculous, but I’ve just got used to always being aware of my surroundings. I had to.’

‘If what you say is true.’

The words came out before Quin had a chance to fully think them through. He registered the look of hurt on her face, but something inside him had hardened. He pushed down the urge to trust her—because if he believed her that would send his world even more off its axis.

He suspected rather uncomfortably that having to let go of the anger that had felt so righteous for so long would expose more uncomfortable things that he’d never really dealt with. Like the sheer hurt. Pain. Loss. Sense of betrayal. A betrayal made worse because his own mother had abandoned him too. It had been so much easier when Sadie had been the straightforward villain and not a potential victim.

Sadie sagged back in her chair, as if she might be feeling the weight of his thoughts. ‘Why would I make such a story up?’ she asked. ‘It would have been easier to say that I thought I couldn’t cope.’

‘But not as sympathetic.’

Sadie’s eyes flashed, but before she could say anything the waiter was back to take their order. Quin noted that some of the colour was back in Sadie’s cheeks, and something in him eased a little. He scowled at himself. They ordered, and the waiter left again.

Quin sat back. He was prepared to indulge her for now, at least. ‘So, tell me, then, how did you end up in Brazil?’

Sadie’s mouth compressed for a moment, and Quin had to restrain himself from reaching across the table and touching his finger to her soft lower lip. Before, they’d touched each other all the time, and that tactility had been a revelation for him after growing up with little in the way of open affection. It had been impossible not to respond to Sadie’s irrepressible nature, and the affection—physical and emotional—that she’d given so freely.

‘Why should I tell you anything more when you don’t believe me?’

‘I’ll suspend my disbelief.’

He saw how Sadie’s glance flicked past him to the restaurant behind him and then back. He hated to admit it, but such a reflex could only be borne out of an ingrained habit. When they’d been together before she’d used to dislike going out to bars or restaurants, preferring to stay in and cook for them.

‘I picked Brazil to come to because I couldn’t think of anywhere further. I figured I could get lost in a country like this.’

‘And your witness protection team just agreed?’

Sadie nodded. ‘I didn’t have any family or relationship ties. Once they’d furnished me with a new identity and new documents they were happy to get me out of their hair. They already had my video deposition, so if anything did happen to me it wouldn’t ruin their case. They liaised with the police here, but only so far as to let them know my background. After that I was on my own. I had to find a job and support myself.’

‘Why didn’t the police here or back in the UK try to track you down when they didn’t hear anything from you after losing your memory?’

‘I found out when I contacted them after my memory returned that they had been trying to track me down. But my mobile phone was gone, and a lack of resources and lack of personnel meant they were limited in what they could do to find me. I hadn’t been in Sao Sebastiao for long before we met, so I hadn’t yet checked in, telling them my latest location. The onus on keeping myself alive and safe was really on me. They didn’t have any obligation beyond being a place for me to call in case I needed help or to find out information—like how the case was going...’

Their starters arrived, and Quin forked some salad absently into his mouth as he said, ‘So what happened when your memory returned?’

Sadie swallowed her food. ‘I knew I had to check in with them. I had no idea what was going on. When you’d gone to the hotel for the night, after Sol’s birth, I got in touch. They’d received intel that my old boss had actively been looking for me in North America... They couldn’t be sure that he hadn’t extended that search further to South America. They’d started looking for me in lists of missing people when they couldn’t find me.’ When Quin stayed silent, Sadie continued. ‘The fact that he was actively looking for me... I knew I had no choice. I had to go.’

The waiter returned and removed their plates as Quin absorbed this. Eventually he asked, ‘Why didn’t you just tell me?’

‘I agonised over it. That whole night. It would have been the easiest thing in the world... But I kept looking at Sol, and all I could see was how small and vulnerable he was. It wasn’t just about me. It was about you and him. I couldn’t take the risk of telling you, just to make myself feel better, and risk your lives as well as mine. The witness protection team had been very clear that anyone I got close to would be a target too.’

Quin sat up straight. ‘But I could have done something... I could have taken us somewhere else—somewhere safe.’

Sadie looked at him. ‘First of all, I didn’t know that. I didn’t know you had access to any resources. But that wouldn’t have changed anything. These people have access to information that you can’t even believe. They have access that goes beyond the scope of any police force. If they’d tracked me down they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you too. And Sol.’

Sadie’s eyes were wide now, her face leached of colour again. It was as if she was reliving a nightmare, and Quin had to concede that, whether she was telling the truth or not, she believed her own story. Or else she should be on the stage, winning awards for her acting skills.

Hurt at this reminder that Quin hadn’t confided in her while they’d been together, no matter what he’d just revealed about liking his anonymity, made her say, ‘There’s no point talking about it any more—not until you’re prepared to accept it’s what actually happened.’

With perfect timing the waiter returned with their main courses. Sadie looked stupidly at her plate. She hadn’t even registered what she’d ordered, but apparently it had been fish, artfully arranged on the plate on a bed of herbs, with a seasonal salad and baby potatoes.

For the next few minutes she avoided looking at Quin and focused on her food. Even though her appetite had fled, to some extent, she’d learnt the hard way not to skip a hot meal if it was handed to her.

To Sadie’s surprise, the tension defused a little and they ate in silence. If not companionable, then at least not overtly antagonistic.

She glanced up and saw Quin’s muscled forearms, exposed where he’d rolled up his sleeves. Her insides twisted with awareness. He had big hands with long fingers. Blunt nails. Masculine.

Their plates were taken away and coffee and biscuits delivered. Sadie took a sip of the fragrant, rich drink and closed her eyes, appreciating the aroma. She could feel the constant inner tension and vigilance she’d carried around for years slowly starting to unwind within her. In spite of Quin’s anger and distrust.

When she opened her eyes again Quin was studying her. Her cheeks grew warm. She put her cup down. Quin didn’t look away. He’d always had that confidence. No shyness. Not like her. He’d used to look at her intently before, until she’d start laughing or try to break his focus.

Once, when they’d been in bed, she’d asked, ‘Why do you look at me like that?’

‘Like what?’

‘Like you want to see all the way inside me.’

‘Maybe because I do...maybe because I wonder who you really are.’

The memory made Sadie shiver a little.

‘Cold?’ Quin asked.

Sadie shook her head. ‘No, just a memory...’ Impulsively she said, ‘I’m glad Sol had you.’

‘He will always have me.’

There was a clear warning in Quin’s tone.

Sadie looked at him. ‘He also has me now. I’m not leaving again.’

The air quivered between them. But the tension was broken when Quin said, ‘Come on—we’ve a stop to make before we pick up Sol from school.’

Sadie’s heart jumped. She would get to see her son at school! She stood up and followed Quin out of the restaurant, noting how the manager practically bowed to him on the way out. A far cry from their very humble life together in the beach house in Sao Sebastiao.

Back in the luxurious confines of the car, Sadie noticed they weren’t going back towards the suburb. ‘Where are we going?’

‘You need some clothes.’

Sadie opened her mouth and was about to protest, but nothing came out. She did need clothes. She still felt self-conscious. The restaurant had highlighted her shabbiness. No doubt Quin was wondering how on earth he’d let lust overwhelm him the other night, now he’d seen her in the harsh light of day against a sophisticated backdrop and in comparison to other women.

‘I don’t have money to pay you back now, but I will as soon as I get a job.’

Quin made a sound that was somewhere between a sceptical noise and ‘whatever’ , which made Sadie even more determined to do what she could to get her life back on track as soon as possible. There was bound to be a hair salon looking for a stylist in the city somewhere.

Quin was slowing down now, and expertly parking in a space outside what appeared to be a very upmarket boutique, with mannequins in the window wearing long sheaths of glittering dresses.

Before Sadie could say anything, Quin was out of the car and opening her door, extending a hand to help her out. She was loath to touch him when he’d all but told her that making love to her had been a huge mistake, but there was no other way to get out of the low-slung car gracefully, so she put her hand in his and gritted her teeth against the all too predictable reaction in her blood.

She pulled away as soon as she was standing up straight, and studiously ignored Quin as he gestured for her to precede him into the boutique. Once inside, Sadie immediately wanted to turn and leave again—but she couldn’t, because Quin was right behind her, saying something over her head to the very elegant manager. His Portuguese was so fast, Sadie couldn’t keep up.

He pushed her gently towards the woman, who was now smiling and saying, ‘Come with me, please.’

Sadie had no choice but to let herself be led into a luxuriously carpeted inner room, where there were rails of clothes—everything from jeans to evening gowns.

The woman stood back and looked Sadie up and down assessingly. Then she said, ‘Okay, let me see what we have for you...’

‘Her story stacks up, Quin. She is who she says she is, and it’s a miracle she survived. This organised crime gang was one of the most sophisticated and deadly in the world. They signed their own death warrants, though, when Almady murdered someone in his own home. He was getting complacent...arrogant...and that led to his ultimate downfall.’

Quin was standing outside the boutique, where he had gone to take this call from his friend. A heavy weight lodged in his gut. Sadie’s story was true. He would trust Claude with his life.

But not the mother of your own child? prompted a voice.

Quin pushed it aside.

Quin had told his friend that Sadie was Sol’s mother. He asked, ‘Is there any danger now?’

His friend sighed. ‘No—and I’ve checked it out thoroughly, with contacts who would know. Anyone who wanted her gone is dead or disappeared now. She has no relevance any more, thankfully. But I should tell you that one of Almady’s associates was in Sao Paulo just over a year ago, sniffing around, showing people her picture, so they were intent on finding her. She did the right thing, leaving.’

Quin went cold. It had come that close? The danger? ‘Could I have protected her and Sol?’ he asked. ‘If she’d told me?’

Claude was deadly serious when he answered, ‘Three moving targets are easier to find than one.’

For the first time Quin had to wonder what he would have done in Sadie’s situation. The thought of harm coming to Sol—his skin went clammy. Of course he would have done whatever it took to ensure his son was safe.

Even if that meant walking away?

His friend’s voice cut off that uncomfortable question.

‘Quin, I can’t emphasise enough how real the threat was. And she’d witnessed a murder, so she had the trauma of that on top of the trauma of being on the run. If the gang hadn’t imploded the way they eventually did, who’s to know if she could have ever settled down again? The fact that she lost her memory and was blissfully unaware of the danger she was in, unwittingly putting you and her baby in, is frankly a little terrifying. It’s sheer luck they didn’t track her down in that year.’

‘I swear it could have been made just for you. I knew you’d look amazing in it.’

Sadie smiled weakly at the boutique owner—Monica. She’d already tried on an array of day wear, and the woman was so nice and friendly that Sadie hadn’t had the heart to refuse when she’d said she had an evening dress for Sadie to try on.

Sadie was almost afraid to look at her reflection in the mirror, very aware that the dress was made of some kind of gold lamé and clung to her body like a second skin.

But the other woman said, ‘Look at yourself, please...you are stunning.’

Sadie gave in, and for a second didn’t recognise her own reflection. She’d never worn an evening dress in her life—apart from when she’d gone to that party to try and see Quin. And calling that dress an ‘evening dress’ had been a stretch.

But this...this was Cinderella territory.

Sadie glowed with a golden light. Her skin looked almost translucent next to the gold. The dress was simple, with two thin straps and a low-cut vee that ran between her breasts, making them look more ample than they were. It was a feat of engineering that Sadie would never be able to figure out.

It hugged her neat waist and clung to the flare of her hips, making her look far more shapely than she really was, and then fell in what could only be described as a waterfall of gold to the floor in soft, shimmering folds.

Her back was bare to the top of her buttocks.

Sadie had never been a girly girl, but this dress was evoking a multitude of things inside her. Yearnings and memories. The only other dress she’d ever had was the simple white broderie anglaise sundress she’d worn on the beach, while pregnant with Sol, when she’d married Quin.

Or, as he’d reminded her, not married Quin.

A sound came from behind them—a discreet cough. Monica went to the curtain and pulled it back, saying, ‘Senhor Holt, please tell your girlfriend how stunning she looks.’

Girlfriend.

Sadie immediately froze. That couldn’t be further from the truth of what was happening here. She was already anticipating the censorious look on Quin’s face—he hadn’t brought her here to play dress-up in gold lamé dresses! Maybe he’d suspect that she’d introduced herself as his girlfriend.

At the last second she reached for her neck, where her engagement ring would be hanging from the chain she’d put it on. But she let out a breath of relief when she remembered she’d left it in a drawer by the bed in the guesthouse for fear she’d lose it while cleaning.

Quin appeared in the space where Monica was holding open the curtain, blocking out all the daylight behind him with his wide shoulders, and all Sadie could do was look helplessly at him through the reflection in the mirror.

At first he was frowning, stern, but then he looked at her and his expression was wiped blank. And then...it changed. The only way Sadie could describe it was... arrested —as if someone had just punched him in the back. His eyes were glued to hers. And then moving up and down, taking her whole body in from bare feet to the top of her head. The look on his face was so intense...and something else... hungry .

Sadie’s skin prickled. She had to be imagining it. He was angry, not hungry. And then his phone rang again, and he said something to Monica before turning away to take the call.

Monica came back, all business, helping Sadie out of the dress.

When Sadie went to look for the clothes she’d been wearing she couldn’t find them. Monica made a face and handed her some of the new clothes, saying, ‘I think these might be more comfortable for now. I’ll get the rest packed up.’

Sadie took the clothes, and when she was alone again saw that there was a new pair of jeans and a loose silk shirt. A very luxe version of the casual style she liked. There was a pair of soft slip-on brogues. And—her face coloured—underwear. It was as if Quin had surmised that her underwear would be as tatty and cheap as the rest of her very limited wardrobe.

In any case, she was pretty sure he wasn’t investing in new undergarments for his benefit. He’d made that clear.

When she’d changed—underwear and all—she caught her reflection in the mirror again and had to make a wry face. Even with unkempt hair and no make-up she could see that the quality of these clothes added an elegance that couldn’t be manufactured any other way except by money.

She sighed. She’d never be able to afford to pay Quin back for this—an entirely new wardrobe of clothes.

She went out of the changing area into the main salon. Quin was off the phone now. He had his back to her, arms folded, looking out of the window. Legs planted wide. She could tell he was brooding from his stance.

He turned around then, and said, ‘Ready?’

Monica reappeared, smiling—and no wonder. Quin had just dropped a small fortune. ‘I’ll have everything sent over today,’ she said.

‘Thank you. I appreciate it, Monica. Adeus. ’

‘ Obrigado. Goodbye, Sadie.’

Sadie forced a smile. ‘Thank you.’

At the last moment, Monica said, ‘Wait!’ and Sadie turned around at the door. The woman handed her a pair of sunglasses and said, ‘On the house.’

Sadie smiled for real. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and slipped them on, appreciating the protection from the afternoon sun outside. And, more importantly, the protection from Quin’s dark gaze that kept flicking to her as he manoeuvred the car out of its parking space and into the traffic.

There was silence between them. Tension was growing and becoming suffocating.

When they were stopped at some lights, Sadie blurted out, ‘I never said I was your girlfriend, and I didn’t ask to try that dress on. She insisted, and I didn’t have the heart to say no...’

Quin looked at her. ‘What?’ He frowned and then he seemed to absorb what she’d said and waved a hand. ‘I didn’t even hear her say that.’

Sadie felt a little deflated. ‘What is it, then?’ she asked. ‘You’re tense enough to crack.’

A muscle pulsed in his jaw. The car moved forward again with a little jerk. Eventually Quin said, ‘Not here. We’re almost at the school. We’ll talk later.’

Soon they were pulling up outside a big modern building. Small children were coming out of the gates, being greeted by parents and carers. It was a happy throng, and for a moment all Sadie could do was blink to try and keep her emotion back.

Quin must have noticed, because he took her by surprise, touching her hand in a fleeting movement. ‘Okay?’

Sadie shook her head and nodded at the same time, and tried to swallow the lump in her throat. ‘It’s nothing. I just... I used to fantasise about this—about someday being able to collect Sol from school. A normal thing that most people take for granted with their kids.’

She didn’t look at Quin, afraid of what his expression might say, so she didn’t see the way he looked at her thoughtfully.

He got out of the car and came around to help her out. Sadie stood beside him and pushed the sunglasses onto her head, straining to see Sol’s distinctive reddish blond hair. And then there he was—a blur of energy, colliding with his father.

‘Papa! I missed you.’

And then he noticed Sadie, and took her completely by surprise.

‘You came too!’ he said, as he threw his arms around her waist.

Sadie’s legs nearly buckled at his easy and open gesture.

He pulled back, unaware of the emotional earthquake he was causing, and looked at Quin. ‘Papa, can I show Sadie my classroom?’

‘Sure, let’s go.’

Sol took Sadie’s hand and pulled her towards the school. A woman who must be a teacher was standing talking in the doorway and Sol said, ‘Miss Diaz, this is my friend Sadie. I’m showing her my classroom.’

‘Okay, Sol, that’s fine.’

The woman smiled at Sadie, and then seemed to do a double take when she saw her similarity with Sol. Sadie pretended she hadn’t noticed.

Quin stayed behind, talking to the teacher, and Sadie savoured every second with her son, chattering nineteen to the dozen as he showed her where he sat, where his locker was, and where he put his shoes and which artwork was his.

When they got back to the house Sol was despatched to change out of his school clothes and Sadie finally met Sara the housekeeper—a friendly, no-nonsense woman. Roberto had left snacks, and when Quin disappeared to his home office to make some calls Sadie sat with Sol and ate them, helping him with the little piece of homework he’d brought home.

She was so engrossed that at first she didn’t notice when Quin arrived back into the main living area. He’d changed into board shorts and a T-shirt. He looked like the man she’d first met, and her heart flipped over in her chest.

She realised then that he was looking at her with a strange expression—as if he’d never seen her before, or as if she was about to do something outrageous.

His gaze went to Sol. He said, ‘Enough books—let’s get outside and play some football.’

Sol was outside like a shot.

Quin looked at Sadie. ‘Are you coming?’

The way he said that, so easily, made something cave inside her. Some of the wall she’d erected to protect herself in the last few years. It had been the only way she could survive.

‘Okay,’ Sadie said quickly, and tried to hide how pathetically seismic it felt to be invited to play with her son.

She stood up.

‘I’ll just change into something a bit more casual.’

When she went down to the guesthouse she found Sara putting away the new clothes that must have just been delivered.

Mortified, she protested, ‘Please, don’t. I can put them away myself.’

The woman smiled. ‘It’s no problem...it’s almost done.’

Sadie sat on the bed when Sara was gone and looked into the dressing room, now full of brand-new clothes. And then she noticed something hanging at the back...a glimmer of...gold.

She got up and went into the room, reaching for the glimmer, sucking in a breath when she pulled out the stunning gold dress. It slid through her fingers like liquid. It must be a mistake. Sadie made a note to let Quin know. She had no doubt a dress like that must have cost a fortune. Even she recognised the designer’s name, and she’d been more or less living under a rock for the last half a decade.

There was a shout from outside and Sadie went through to the main living area to see a red-faced Sol, standing in the door with mud streaked across his legs.

‘What’s taking you so long?’

The dress was forgotten as a surge of emotion gripped Sadie, bright and pure. But she managed to get out a strangled-sounding, ‘Nothing...give me one minute.’