Read Online Her Latin Lover (Contemporary Romance) by Katheryn Lane - Free Book Online
Authors: Katheryn Lane
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Paulo had done the same. She ran to open her bedroom door, but instead of seeing a freshly dressed Paulo, she saw Isabella wearing the same plain, navy dress, carrying a tray of food. Isabella said something incomprehensible and placed the tray on the table next to the balcony window.
The room that Mary was in was light and spacious with a huge double bed in one corner, a chaise longue, a dressing table, two wardrobes, which were more than adequate for her sparse number of outfits, an armchair and a small side table with a couple of chairs around it. Off to one side, through a blue wooden door, was a white-tiled bathroom with a large roll-top bath in the centre. If it had been a hotel, it would have been described as a luxury suite.
After Isabella set down the tray, she smiled and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. For one moment, Mary half expected her to lock it. She went to the door and turned the handle. It opened. She looked outside and down the long, shadowy corridor, but there was no sign of Isabella or anyone else.
Not too sure what else to do, Mary sat down by the balcony, ate the food that had been brought to her and drank the small carafe of red wine that had come with it. The food and wine were delicious, but Mary found it hard to enjoy them, sitting on her own in a strange house as darkness descended around her. By the time she finished her meal, it was pitch black outside. She went and stood on the balcony and listened. She could hear nothing but the sound of crickets and other small, unknown animals. After the constant noise of London and then the town square in Corazon, it was eerily quiet. She looked at her watch. It was only seven o’clock, still early evening, especially by South American standards, where many people considered midnight to be relatively early. Mary decided to go downstairs and look for Paulo.
She opened her bedroom door and looked up and down the dark corridor. Nothing. She walked towards the sweeping staircase and slowly made her way down. The stairs creaked with every step she took. The sound echoed around her and through the cavernous hallway below. The only light came from two white candles which burned on a table in the entrance directly in front of the portrait of the woman. Mary walked towards the painting and stopped in front of it. The burning candles on the table gave it the appearance of a shrine to the Virgin Mary, similar to the ones she had seen by the roadside in the villages. What kind of woman burned candles in front of a picture of herself and where was she now? Mary decided to head off in search of Paulo’s wife and Paulo himself to get some answers.
After walking through several dark rooms, she finally saw a light coming from underneath a closed door at the end of a narrow corridor. She went towards it and placed her hand on the cold metal door handle. She was just about to turn it when she heard someone talking inside. She put her ear to the door and heard the unmistakable tone of Paulo’s deep, sexy voice though she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. Glad to have found him at last, she knocked, opened the door and stepped inside.
She found herself in a small study. The walls were lined with books, many of them leather-bound. On the floor was a dark red, oriental-looking carpet and on it was a heavy wooden desk. The whole room could have been something out of another century if it hadn’t been for the computer on the desk and the mobile phone in Paulo’s hand.
He looked up at her, muttered something into his phone in Spanish and switched it off. With a quick movement of the computer mouse on the desk, he switched off his computer screen as well. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“How’s the horse?” Mary asked in return. She knew she had intruded on something, but now that she was here, she didn’t feel she could just turn around and walk out again.
“Dead. We had to shoot it.” Paulo said.
“What
The room that Mary was in was light and spacious with a huge double bed in one corner, a chaise longue, a dressing table, two wardrobes, which were more than adequate for her sparse number of outfits, an armchair and a small side table with a couple of chairs around it. Off to one side, through a blue wooden door, was a white-tiled bathroom with a large roll-top bath in the centre. If it had been a hotel, it would have been described as a luxury suite.
After Isabella set down the tray, she smiled and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind her. For one moment, Mary half expected her to lock it. She went to the door and turned the handle. It opened. She looked outside and down the long, shadowy corridor, but there was no sign of Isabella or anyone else.
Not too sure what else to do, Mary sat down by the balcony, ate the food that had been brought to her and drank the small carafe of red wine that had come with it. The food and wine were delicious, but Mary found it hard to enjoy them, sitting on her own in a strange house as darkness descended around her. By the time she finished her meal, it was pitch black outside. She went and stood on the balcony and listened. She could hear nothing but the sound of crickets and other small, unknown animals. After the constant noise of London and then the town square in Corazon, it was eerily quiet. She looked at her watch. It was only seven o’clock, still early evening, especially by South American standards, where many people considered midnight to be relatively early. Mary decided to go downstairs and look for Paulo.
She opened her bedroom door and looked up and down the dark corridor. Nothing. She walked towards the sweeping staircase and slowly made her way down. The stairs creaked with every step she took. The sound echoed around her and through the cavernous hallway below. The only light came from two white candles which burned on a table in the entrance directly in front of the portrait of the woman. Mary walked towards the painting and stopped in front of it. The burning candles on the table gave it the appearance of a shrine to the Virgin Mary, similar to the ones she had seen by the roadside in the villages. What kind of woman burned candles in front of a picture of herself and where was she now? Mary decided to head off in search of Paulo’s wife and Paulo himself to get some answers.
After walking through several dark rooms, she finally saw a light coming from underneath a closed door at the end of a narrow corridor. She went towards it and placed her hand on the cold metal door handle. She was just about to turn it when she heard someone talking inside. She put her ear to the door and heard the unmistakable tone of Paulo’s deep, sexy voice though she couldn’t understand a word he was saying. Glad to have found him at last, she knocked, opened the door and stepped inside.
She found herself in a small study. The walls were lined with books, many of them leather-bound. On the floor was a dark red, oriental-looking carpet and on it was a heavy wooden desk. The whole room could have been something out of another century if it hadn’t been for the computer on the desk and the mobile phone in Paulo’s hand.
He looked up at her, muttered something into his phone in Spanish and switched it off. With a quick movement of the computer mouse on the desk, he switched off his computer screen as well. “What do you want?” he demanded.
“How’s the horse?” Mary asked in return. She knew she had intruded on something, but now that she was here, she didn’t feel she could just turn around and walk out again.
“Dead. We had to shoot it.” Paulo said.
“What
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