Read Online Secrets Of Bella Terra by Christina Dodd - Free Book Online Page B

directed two already inebriated young men to the pool with instructions to introduce themselves to the female lifeguard, looked around for the confused young couple—and saw Rafe speaking with them. They were laughing and nodding, less concerned, more relaxed.
    Good. After all, it was his family’s resort. In a crunch, he could pitch in.
    She watched as he walked them through the lobby and out the front door onto Bella Terra’s main street, then stood and gestured as he told them how to get to their destination.
    He came back in as the rush died a sudden death, leaving Victor, Rafe, and Brooke looking at one another in relief.
    The men moved toward each other, two fellows confident in who they were.
    Brooke introduced them. “Rafe, this is Victor Ruíz, my second in command, and lately, my very overworked right-hand man. Since Sarah’s been in the hospital and I’ve been with her, he’s been picking up the slack.” She watched as the two men shook hands, then told Rafe, “Victor is originally from Paraguay, has trained and worked in the best hotels all over South America, and when I vacationed in Buenos Aires, I watched him. He knew celebrities, always said the right thing, handled his employees with tact and discretion. So I seduced him into coming to the U.S.”
    Eyes twinkling, Victor bowed toward her. “I was very willing to be seduced, especially to work with a concierge of such international fame.”
    “You are too good.” She was aware that Rafe watched them without smiling. “Victor, why did you page me?”
    “I didn’t page you,” Victor said.
    “Really?” She pulled out her pager and looked. “Someone did. I assumed since I instructed that only you—”
    “No, but as long as you’re here . . .” Victor launched into a litany of problems that cropped up every day at the resort, matters he was completely able to handle.
    Brooke frowned as she listened. If he hadn’t paged her, who had? Only a few people had access to her number, and those few people had been given strict orders to leave her alone so she could be with Sarah. She interrupted. “Is there anything here that requires my attention?”
    “There is. You have a guest who is asking to speak to you. No one else will do.” The words were severe, but Victor’s eyes were twinkling as he spoke, and he indicated the lobby.
    Brooke stepped around the corner into the generous room Noah had transformed into their lobby.
    Three walls were glass reaching twenty feet in the air, with views of gardens and foliage so thick and rich and colorful, every table and chair had a view of paradise. The fourth wall was a wide, floor-to-ceiling fireplace with openings on either side that led to the elevators and the check-in area. A small bar occupied the center of the room, and there they served a continental breakfast in the morning and drinks at night. Each seat had been chosen for comfort. Every guest was made welcome with offers of salted edamame served in small blue and white porcelain Asian bowls, and bottled springwater. This was, after all, California, home of holistic foods, environmental correctness, and fierce snobbery.
    Victor gestured widely. “Your Italian friend has returned.”
    “My Italian friend?” Brooke scanned the lobby until she found that distinctive head of fiery red, curly hair. “Francesca? Francesca’s here?”
    “Francesca? The only Francesca I know is . . . Oh, my God!” For the first time since he’d arrived, Rafe looked as if he had had the feet knocked out from under him. Before Brooke could hurry into the lobby, he grabbed her arm. “My mother? My mother is here?”

Chapter 11

    “S he frequently vacations here. Now if you’ll excuse me”—Brooke plucked Rafe’s hand away—“I’m going to greet my guest.”
    She stalked into the lobby.
    My God, he was irritating. Irritating, handsome, and far too dangerous to her . . . in every way. With him, she had to be careful about what she said and did, because he