The black invader (3 page)

Then he won't dare do anything else!' Kirstie remarked pertly, and immediately pulled a face. ^I'm sorry, Abuelo, but just as long as I don't need to come into contact with Miguel Montanes I might be able to cope.' She kissed him again lightly and smiled. 'Goodbye!'

Don Jose watched from the window as she walked with a deceptively confident step along the familiar tree-lined ride through the orange grove, but he couldn't see the suspicious brightness in her eyes as she approached her old home, only the slim straightness of her back and the proud lift of her head. Ever since they had been forced to leave the Casa de Rodriguez she had promised herself that she would come back one day, but she had never imagined it would be as an employee of the new owners, and the resentment she felt still stuck like an immovable bone in her throat.

At the end of the ride a tall arched gateway with a wrought iron gate gave access to the gardens, and there was a heart-aching familiarity about it all that quickened Kirstie's pulse. When she pushed open the gate the walled patio gardens spilled colour and scent into the hot air, cooled only where a fringe of citrus trees grew against the surrounding walls. Roses, carnations and deep red oleanders crowded the wide beds, and urns filled with musky bright geraniums splashed their colour over the tiled entrance formed by an overhanging balcony running the width of the house and draped with vines of bougainvillea, morning glory and yellow roses.

It seemed that nothing at all had changed, and for a moment Kirstie stood amid the colourful profusion and tried to pretend that all was as it had been before. Her eyes were bright with emotion and a hard lump in her throat refused to be swallowed no matter how hard she tried. Then the big blackwood door opened and Miguel

THE BLACK INVADER '21

Montafies stood in the opening for a moment watching her, before he spoke.

'Sefiorita Rodriguez—will you come in?'

Kirstie swallowed her pride. It wasn't easy to accept an invitation to enter what had been her own home, as if she was a stranger to it, but she nodded her thanks and for the first time in just over a month walked into the cool elegance of Casa de Rodriguez.

It surprised her to realise how few changes had been made in fact. There were one or two different pieces of furniture in the hall, and the old ivory crucifix that had been in the Rodriguez family for more than a hundred years had been replaced by a bigger and more ornate bronze one. But the same small table stood below it, displaying a vase of white carnations from the garden, just as it had always done.

The white walls still contrasted with black beams and a highly polished block floor, and incredibly one or two of the same paintings glowed richly in the shadowed coolness between arched doorways. It was a shock to realise that the Rodriguez family portraits that had taken pride of place, but could not be found room in their new accommodation, had been displaced by what were evidently portraits of past Montafies, and she wondered what had happened to her own forebears.

'They're safely stored, not sold or destroyed, you have my word.'

Kirstie looked at him in momentary confusion, then reahsed that he was referring to the missing portraits and gave him a faint, uneasy smile. Tm glad,' she said huskily. 'Thank you.'

He nodded, as if yet again he understood exactly how she was feeling, then extended one hand in invitation. 'Will you come this way? My uncle is waiting for you.'

He led the way across the hall to what had once been a small and seldom used salon, but which was now completely converted for business use. Unlike the hall it retained none of its original furnishings, although a particularly exquisite landscape that she had always

liked still adorned the wall above the fireplace.

A huge desk occupied the space immediately in front of the fireplace and another, smaller one stood over beside the window, while steel filing cabinets lined the walls and gave the room a stark, businesslike air. When Miguel Montanes opened the door a man seated at the larger of the two desks looked up immediately and smiled, but remained seated, and it was not until she shook hands with him that Kirstie realised Enrique Montanes was confined to a wheelchair.

He was, she guessed, about fifty-three or four years old and bore quite a strong physical resemblance to his autocratic nephew, although his hair was greying brown rather than that raven-black and he seemed much less arrogant. There were sharp lines etched at the comers of his mouth that ran deep furrows upward beside an aristocratic nose, so that Kirstie could guess he suffered a great deal of pain. It was not only sympathy, however, that made her decide that she liked him just as instinctively as she had disliked the younger man, and at that moment she saw nothing illogical in it.

Tlease sit down, Sefiorita Rodriguez,' he told her with a smile. Tm so glad you decided to come and see me.'

Instinctively Kirstie glanced over her shoulder before she took the chair he offered, and found Miguel at her shoulder, waiting to help her to her seat. He leaned over her, pushing the chair against the backs of her knees, and she sat down automatically, murmuring her thanks as she did so and very conscious of his physical presence and of the light brush of his hands on her shoulders for a moment when he drew back.

'I understand you trained in secretarial work,' said Enrique Montanes, obviously seeking to put her at her ease. 'Is that the extent of your experience, senoritaT

'I'm afraid so,' Kirstie confessed. 'I've never actually worked at it; I hope you don't think I came here hoping

for ' She bit back the suggestion she had been about

to make, and decided that for all his seeming kindliness Enrique Montanes was unlikely to give anyone a job as

secretary out of charity. 'I realise you probably want someone more experienced,' she amended, and he smiled at her reassuringly.

^Everyone has to begin somewhere, Senorita Rodriguez, and if your typing and shorthand speeds are up to my requirements then I see no reason why you shouldn't get your experience here. Do you have your diplomas with you?'

*Oh yes, of course.' She foraged in her handbag for a moment and produced the required certificates, explaining as she handed them over, 'I was top in class each term, and if I've lost a little speed I'm sure I could soon pick it up again.'

'I'm sure you could,' Enrique concurred as he flipped through the papers, and he was smiling when he handed them back to her. *You appear to have earned your position as top in class, Senorita Rodriguez, but in fact your typing is of more importance to me because I'm one of those curious people who find it difficult to think as I dictate.' He laughed at his own shortcomings and used his hands to dismiss any need to apologise for them. 'Do you think you will be able to cope with such an inefficient employer?'

'I'm willing to try,' Kirstie assured him. 'But I think I ought to stress, Seiior Montanes, that I've done neither shorthand nor typing since I left school.'

'Which surely cannot be so very long ago,' he guessed with a smile. 'You're very young, my dear senorita.''

Miguel Montaiies was sitting with arrogant ease on the end of the second desk, and it was instinctive when she glanced over her shoulder at him before she answered, meeting for a moment his steady and disconcerting gaze. 'I'm twenty,' she said, and wondered why it should sound more as if she challenged that bright, dark gaze than merely answered a simple question. 'I shall be twenty-one in three months' time, but I hope you don't feel I'm too young to cope, Senor Montanes.'

'Not at all,' he assured her. But from the way he sat studying the tips of his fingers Kirstie suspected there

was something else on his mind. There is perhaps the question of your feehngs regarding the Casa de Rodriguez, senorita. I understand that you feel a certain— resentment at the loss of your home, which is quite understandable in the circumstances, but it might not prove an ideal situation were you employed by us.'

It wasn't a situation that Kirstie was sure she could explain very well, especially with Miguel Montanes sitting close by and watching her with that steady, disturbing gaze of his. If it had been a case of working for him she would not even have considered it, but she thought she could work for his uncle without her emotions getting the better of her, and it occurred to her for the first time that she had better make sure that Enrique Montaiies was to have exclusive claim to her services.

'I would be working for you, wouldn't I, Sefior Montaiies?' she asked, and noticed the way he looked quickly in his nephew's direction before he replied.

Tor the most part, senorita, yes.'

*Seiiorita Rodriguez merely wishes to be sure that she will not be called upon to work for me, that's all, Tio Enrique.' Miguel's smooth deep voice forestalled her reply, and Kirstie coloured furiously at being so precisely interpreted yet again.

'Is that right, sefioritaT

Both men were watching her with such intentness that she found it embarrassing, and she looked down at the hands in her lap because she did not know what to say. Heaven knew why Miguel Montanes was still there, but his presence made it impossible for her to appear at her best, and she did not see how she could deny her reluctance to work for him when he at least must be perfectly well aware of it.

That's right, sefior,' she agreed in a huskily unsteady voice. *I—I couldn't work for Sefior Montanes.'

'I see.'

She quite expected that Miguel would condemn her for her prejudice, but for the moment he was saying

nothing, he merely lingered there in the background as if he waited to see what the eventual outcome would be. On the other hand her insistence obviously troubled the older man, for he was frowning uneasily, and tapping the fingers of one hand on his desk.

*I don't know, Senorita Rodriguez,* he said. 'Perhaps in view of your strong feelings we should reconsider the advisability of employing you.'

Kirstie heard him with dismay, and none the less so because she realised how much she had contributed to the decision, by taking such an obvious stand against having anything to do with Miguel Montanes. She sat for a moment with her hands clasped tightly on her lap and tried to think of a way to escape without letting them see just how disappointed she was.

In the event she had no time to think of anything before Miguel came across to his uncle's desk with long, impatient strides and rested one hand on the edge of it whale the other was used to emphasise what he was saying. Leaning down so that his face was close to hers, he spoke to Kirstie with the same brusque impatience he had shown so often before.

*Don't be a Uttle fool,' he told her shortly. 'Why lose an opportunity like this simply because you can't resist showing your dislike of me? If it concerns you to such an extent, I'll guarantee that you^on't see any more of me than is absolutely necessary; there's little reason why we should meet anyway in the normal course of things. In the name of heaven, child, be sensible!'

Kirstie's colour was high as she glared into the dark face so close that she could see the fine lines at the comers of his eyes, and it was debatable that what she said would have improved matters at all. In the event it was Enrique Montanes who took a hand. 'Miguel, there's no reason for you to make such a promise—if Senorita Rodriguez doesn't feel she can fit in, then it's best that she doesn't take the job.'

'She can fit in,' Miguel insisted stubbornly. Straightening up, he ran a hand through his thick black hair

and looked down at Kirstie in a way that challenged her to deny what he was saying. 'She's capable of doing the work and she wants the job, so why in heaven's name all this quibbling? I spend so little time here, at least during the hours Senorita Rodriguez will be here, that it doesn't really matter; settle it now so that she can begin in the morning and you can get some of that backlog of work cleared that's been worrying you for so long.'

There was obviously still some doubt in the older man's mind, but the forceful argument put forward by his nephew was bound to have an effect, and Kirstie doubted if anyone bothered denying him for very long. She hadn't said another word, either in her own defence, or in agreement with his very logical argument, but she waited anxiously while Enrique Montanes made up his mind.

The situation is rather desperate, Senorita Rodriguez,' he admitted. 'Do you feel you could be happy here in the circumstances?'

Kirstie was sure she could, even allowing for an occasional encounter with Miguel Montanes, and she was almost eager now to take the job. 'I'm sure I could, sefior,' she assured him, trying to ignore the disturbing

proximity of his nephew. 'And ' she glanced briefly

up at the face that still seemed to hover over her even now he was standing upright, 'I'm sorry I spoke so hastily.' *

For a moment Enrique Montanes' gaze switched rapidly from Kirstie's flushed face to his nephew's dark and broodingly implacable one, then he smiled faintly and shook his head. 'You're very young and very— impulsive, I think, my dear senorita,' he said. 'But if you would like to work for us—for me, will you please be here by nine o'clock tomorrow morning? Can you manage that?'

Kirstie hastily came to terms with the fact that her working life was to begin almost immediately, and she took a moment or two to adjust to the idea while the two men watched her closely. Looking across the desk,

she gave Enrique Montanes a faint but definite smile and nodded. 'I can manage that, senor," she said. Thank you.'

Then I shall see you in the morning.' A kindly smile encouraged her as she got to her feet, and she grasped the hand he proffered a little dazedly. 'I'm sure we shall we get along together very well, my dear senorita. Adiosr

She was shaking like a leaf, she realised as she walked across the room, and it was a moment or two before she registered the fact that Miguel Montanes had accompanied her out of the room and was walking out into the garden with her. It was as they crossed the cool, tiled verandah that she turned and looked up at him, and surprised a faint smile on that usually stern face.