Free The Man Behind the Mask by Maggie Cox Page B

added, before taking a sip of the aromatic brew in his cup.
    â€˜Getting on?’ Unprepared, Marianne’s nervous glance collided into his, and her stomach jolted so violently at the sight of those searching blue eyes with their straight dark lashes that she could barely think straight for a moment.
    â€˜The work is not too hard for you?’ Eduardo elucidated.
    â€˜Not at all. I’m enjoying it, in fact. This house is a joy! Every room I go into is a revelation.’
    â€˜An adventure ?’ His serious, well-shaped lips formed the wryest of smiles and Marianne sensed hot embarrassed colour rush into her face.
    â€˜I suppose you think that’s childish?’
    â€˜You think someone like me is incapable of understanding the appeal of adventure? When I was your age I would have equalled your desire for the unexpected…the turn in the road that might yield the happy unknown. Unfortunately, some times life yields the not so pleasant unexpected adventure too, and it can dampen one’s youthful hopefulness…even destroy it for ever. Why don’t you sit down for a moment and take a break?’
    Pondering his surprisingly revealing comments, Marianne felt her body tense un com fort ably. ‘I’m sorry if some bad things happened to taint your optimism. Iknow what that feels like. But ultimately—despite the things that go wrong and hurt us—we have to go on and try to make the best of our lives, don’t you think?’
    â€˜What if you are to blame for causing hurt to someone else?’ Eduardo immediately came back at her, looking as if he genuinely wanted her answer.
    â€˜Then there is always for give ness… Not just from the person you hurt but more importantly to yourself .’
    â€˜Have you forgiven your father for being a drunk and not taking proper care of you?’
    Hearing the bitter edge to his words, Marianne frowned, wondering if he had hurt someone who hadn’t forgiven him, and was still living with too much guilt and regret over whatever had happened. ‘In my heart I honestly try to,’ she replied care fully. ‘I pity him, if you want to know. Alcoholism is a disease, and when it gets a hold it’s very hard to recover from it. He turned to drink in the first place because of the pressure on him to be a success—something our culture perpetually promotes. When we can’t live up to it we call our selves failures. We don’t need outside forces to punish us when we can do it quite beautifully on our own…my dad being a case in point.’
    â€˜Are you going to sit down for a while?’
    Still pondering their revealing exchange, and perhaps a little wary that she had said too much, she quickly declined. ‘I won’t, if you don’t mind. I need to go and prepare dinner. Ricardo has a pair of wild ducks a local farmer gave him. I thought I’d make a nice orange sauceto go with them, and serve it with French beans and mashed potato.’
    â€˜A culinary delight to be anticipated with much pleasure, I am sure.’
    â€˜Are you suggesting that it’s not refined enough for your taste?’
    â€˜I was not being droll, Marianne. You forget I have already sampled your cooking and know that you are quite expert. I only meant what I said as a compliment.’
    â€˜Oh.’ She had been un consciously twirling a long strand of her hair round and round her finger, feeling increasingly on edge at not knowing what to expect from this man from one moment to the next. At the reassurance in his words she released the soft tendril she’d been toying with and at tempted a smile. To the side of her, in its impressive marble surround, the fire hissed invitingly, and if Eduardo’s company had been less likely to put her on her guard Marianne would gladly have accepted his invitation to sit down and take a break. But, perversely, she was also looking forward to cooking her first real dinner in