Legacy of the Highlands (11 page)

Alex knew the men had felt as close as
brothers, but this was the second time she’d heard Diego refer to
Will as his brother. She thought it was strange, but didn’t want to
interrupt him. After all, she always thought of Francie as her
sister.

A moment passed before he sighed deeply and
continued. “Not only am I furious that my best friend was murdered,
but it kills me that we never had the chance…the chance…I
wish…shit!” His voice broke and he turned away from her as he began
to weep.

Alex was shocked that this paragon of
masculinity was sobbing unashamedly next to her. She wanted to
comfort him, but friend or not, he had hurt the man she loved. So
she turned away as tears ran down Diego’s face and waited for him
to compose himself.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a few
minutes. He took the tissue she handed him and wiped his eyes, blew
his nose and took a steadying breath. “What kind of man am I,
crying like a child? The last thing you need is for me to fall
apart, but reliving that night is harder than I thought it would
be.”

“I know, but I still don’t understand what
happened. Please tell me,” she implored. “Once we put this behind
us, maybe we can figure out why he was killed and who did it.”

“You’re right, that’s the important thing
now.” He stood and extended a hand to help her to her feet. “Let’s
walk. I can’t do this sitting still.” They strolled quietly for a
few minutes before he spoke again. “I’m sure you know the old story
about how Will’s parents met mine right after both couples were
married.”

“Of course. So?”

“My guess is you don’t know the whole
story.”

She wanted him to talk about the reason for
the fight with Will, not the oft-told, ancient history of their
parents’ first meeting. “Okay, fine. Do it your way, as if I have
any choice,” she grumbled.

“You think this has nothing to do with what
happened, but you’ll see that it does. Anyway, my parents and
Will’s were seated across the aisle from each other on their way to
Paris from London. My parents had flown there from Buenos Aires,
and the Camerons from Boston. The stewardess brought a bottle of
champagne to each — this was in first class when there was no such
thing as upgrades and you knew that if someone was in first, they
belonged there. Well, anyway,” he continued smoothly, oblivious to
how obnoxiously elitist that remark was, “they discovered that not
only had their weddings taken place on the very same day, but they
had reservations to honeymoon at the same Paris hotel, the Georges
V.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Alex interrupted. “I wish you’d
get to the point. What does this have to do with a fight you and
Will had so many years later?” She thought Diego was avoiding the
real issue and wanted to get him back on track.

“It has a lot to do with it,” he shot back.
“If you’d be quiet and listen, you’ll find out.”

“Okay, okay. Go on,” she said, ignoring his
obvious irritation.

“So anyway, that’s how they met and they
became…I guess you could say ‘intimate’ friends. They visited each
other’s homes and…well…one thing led to another and, and…”

Alex had never heard Diego stammer before and
it frightened her. His tension was making her edgy. “And what?”

He paused as if to gather his courage and
blurted out, “About five years ago Will and I found out that his
father had slept with my mother and my father had slept with Anne
Cameron.”

“What? No way! That’s awful. How can you say
something like that? You’re lying!” she shouted, appalled by this
twisted fantasy. The Navarros might be sexual creatures, but the
Camerons? And especially the glacial Anne Cameron? Impossible!

“Why would I lie about something like this? I
was blown away too, but I’m convinced it’s the truth. I found some
pretty steamy letters from John Cameron to my mother in an old
piece of furniture my parents asked me to empty before they gave it
to one of the maids. My mother likes to redecorate and our staff
benefits. I showed the letters to Will and we figured the rest
out.”

Alex gasped, unable to form coherent
speech.

“Do you want me to continue?”

“You mean there’s more?”

“I’m afraid there is. Are you all right?”

“Not really, but you may as well tell me the
rest. Surely it can’t be worse.”

Diego almost said, “That’s what you think,”
but suppressed the urge. “John’s last letter referred to the news
of my mother’s pregnancy. He wrote that he was sure that my father
was thrilled that they were expecting a child and he mentioned that
Anne was pregnant also. He assured my mother that all would be
well, their children would be great friends, and that was it. Once
I told Will about the letters, I stopped thinking about them, but
your husband…well, he thought that because of our parents’
intimacy, that last letter was strangely worded.”

“Did he ask John about it?”

“No. We knew the letters weren’t meant for
our eyes and we were mature enough to realize that our parents had
moved on and we should let their past stay there. I was okay with
that, but last year Will decided that both of us needed to have a
paternity test. He couldn’t get it out of his mind that he might be
Ricardo Navarro’s son and that John Cameron could be my father. Our
mothers gave birth within weeks of each other, so…anyway, he said
that he couldn’t live with the uncertainty. He told me that his
foundation, his very sense of self, had cracked and only the truth
could restore his equilibrium. He had to know who he was. It’s
obvious that there are lots of similarities between us — our dark
hair, the way we both talk fast when we get excited, that we’re the
exact same height.”

“Oh...my...God. Holy shit! Wait a minute. Let
me digest this.” Alex strode toward the water gesticulating like a
mad woman. Diego didn’t go after her and when she came back she
seemed a little calmer. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. You and
Will could be brothers? Like for real? And Will knew this?” Alex’s
mind was racing, thoughts popping up with the staccato speed of a
machine gun’s rat-a-tat-tat.

Her eyes darted restlessly from the starlit
sky to the expanse of sand and ocean until they finally settled on
Diego. He was lying on his back watching her, his head supported by
his arms. When their eyes met, he reached for her hand and she
curled up next to him. “So is it possible? “ she whispered.

“Will thought so. I didn’t care. I’m a
Navarro. I told Will it didn’t matter who’d stuck his cock in my
mother, I am my father’s son! Jesus, Alex, I’m sorry. I should have
found a better way to say that.”

“Are you finished or is there more?”

“More. Where was I?” He took a breath, then
continued. “Will finally had a DNA test. He lifted some strands
from John’s hairbrush and the results proved that John is indeed
his father. It should have ended there, but that wasn’t good enough
for your husband. Oh, no. He demanded that I do the same with my
father. He kept pushing and pushing and pushing. To shut him up, I
finally caved. I told him I’d do it, but that was to get him off my
back. I never intended to have the test.”

“And you haven’t…?”

“No, but someone else made that decision for
me. Last year, when we all went to Buenos Aires to visit my
parents, Will snuck into my father’s bathroom, took some hair from
his brush and a sample of mine and sent them to the same lab he’d
used.”

Alex thought she finally understood. “He
didn’t tell you he was going to do this, did he?”

“Of course not, the deceitful bastard. He
didn’t give a shit about what I wanted. I’ll never forgive him for
that,” he whispered as his throat tightened and his eyes filled.
“When he told me about it, I went ballistic. I think I hit him
first, but it happened so fast that I’m not sure anymore. I wanted
to kill him and he was banged up pretty badly, but he broke a
couple of my ribs. We never had a chance to make it right. That was
the last time I saw him.” He covered his face and began to cry
softly.

“Hush, hush,” Alex finally said as she wiped
her own tears away. She rubbed his back and stroked his hair, the
way she would have soothed a child. Her mind was reeling from this
bombshell and until she had time to absorb all its implications,
she’d have to treat it as a fairy tale. It was too grotesque to be
anything else.

“I’m glad you told me.” She hesitated before
asking the next question, but she had to know.

“So…did he tell you what the test said?” she
whispered.

He nodded. “That’s probably why I wanted to
kill him. My father didn’t make my mother pregnant. John Cameron
did.”

“So you and Will are…”

“Brothers. Yeah, we’re really brothers.”

They trudged back down the beach toward the villa in
silence as each tried to cope with the emotional overload of
Diego’s revelation. Alex couldn’t figure out why Will had done
something so despicable to his best friend. If he was worried about
his own paternity, well, that was his business. But to deliberately
turn Diego’s world upside down? To betray someone’s trust like that
was so uncharacteristic of the man she loved that she’d never
understand. Why hadn’t he trusted her enough to tell her about
this? To explain away his bruises and a cut lip that needed
stitches, he’d made up an elaborate story about joining a bar brawl
when someone insulted his beloved Red Sox. A few weeks later, when
she’d asked him to invite Diego for a visit, he admitted the lie
and simply said that Diego had attacked him and he didn’t want to
talk about it. She was astounded that Will’s best friend would beat
him so viciously. When she’d pressed him for the reason, Will told
her he’d found out that his mother and Diego were having an affair.
Will had confronted him and Diego had denied it. They’d traded
insults until one of them took a swing at the other. Will swore
he’d never speak to Diego again. It was obvious to her that the
hurt went way deeper than her husband’s external injuries and if
Diego had the power to inflict such lasting pain on someone she
loved, she would have nothing to do with him either. And now she
was left to wonder if Will would have ever told her the truth.
Maybe eventually, but they’d run out of time.

Instead of going inside when they reached the villa,
they collapsed onto chaises near the pool, reluctant to be alone.
Diego quickly closed his eyes, but Alex knew he was awake. The man
next to her had laid his soul bare, so how could she not give him
the same honesty? She began to tell him Will’s version of their
fight.

In the middle of her story, Diego’s eyes flew
open and he bolted upright. “Will told you that I slept with his
mother? Me? Holy shit, couldn’t he come up with anything better
than that? Drunk or sober, no one would believe that even someone
with my overactive libido could ever lay a hand on that cold
bitch’s skinny body. His first story, the one about the Red Sox bar
fight — now that was pure Will and something you and I know
could’ve happened. He loved that team.” His smile didn’t quite
reach his eyes as he recalled how fanatical Will was about the Red
Sox.

“The thing about you and Anne was pretty hard
to believe, but he stuck to it so I accepted it as the truth
eventually” replied Alex. “I couldn’t imagine that even a letch
like you would have sex with — how did you say it? — a cold, skinny
bitch like her.” She made a face that looked like she’d sucked on
the sourest lemon as she imagined the unlikely pairing, then shook
it off. “I’ve seen the women you date. They’re all exquisite, not
bony old hags. I mean, look at you. It’s obvious you can get any
woman you want.”

“I can have any woman, Alex?” Diego taunted,
one dark eyebrow raised in amusement as he turned toward her. “Even
you?”

She knew he was trying to lighten the mood
and decided to play along. She could use a little levity herself.
“Down, boy,” she laughed and gave him a good-natured shove. “Maybe
the thought crossed my mind once or twice when I was young and
naïve and we all used to hang out together in college,” she
admitted, “but you never seemed interested in me that way. And then
things got serious with Will and…well…you were smart enough not to
test your charm on me after that.”

The moonlit night, raw emotions and
exhaustion must have overridden Alex’s internal editor and she’d
revealed thoughts that should have remained unspoken. He was
looking at her in a way that made her uncomfortable, as if she were
a particularly delicious dessert. Uh oh. Testosterone alert, she
cautioned herself and willed her mouth to stay shut. The ball was
back in his court and she waited to see if he’d lob a return.

“Since we’re being honest, I’d be a fool not
to want you and I’ve never been accused of being a fool.” He
sounded angry, but a moment later his tone became wistful. “I’ve
thought about what it would be like with us...but even back then, I
knew that sex with you would be more than a casual fuck, so I
didn’t try.”

“Hmmm…you know that the f-word is one of my
favorite expletives, but as a synonym for sex it’s kind of nasty,
don’t you think?”

“I actually meant it as a compliment. Let me
explain,” he said amused by her reaction. “I’m sure you know women
who have sex just for kicks, but for others it’s an expression of
feeling. The Alex I know wouldn’t want a one night stand, a casual
‘fuck’ — although if I’ve read you wrong…I’m sure it would be a
most enjoyable night for us both.” He aimed a devastating smile at
her.

“And all this time I assumed I wasn’t your
type.” She glanced at him then quickly looked away, afraid to make
eye contact. What was wrong with her? Why was she toying with this
man? Jesus, Alex, she told herself, stop sending mixed signals
before things get even more out of hand.

“Do you want me to tell you that you’re
desirable? Well, you are.” Out of patience, he hurled the words at
her to make it clear they’d passed the point of wordplay and were
moving into the minefield of verbal foreplay. It was up to him to
end it. He’d already become aroused twice that night and if he had
another erection she was going to wind up naked under him. “I want
you, but long ago Will made it clear to me and any other male that
looked your way that you were his and off limits. To me, Mrs.
Cameron, you are still off limits. I may be many things, but I
won’t dishonor my brother by taking advantage of his wife, a woman
who’s obviously still in shock and not behaving like herself.”