“What happened?” he asked as he knelt to take his grandfather’s hand. To feel for himself that the old man’s lifeblood still flowed through his body.
“He said he had a headache and preferred to take his evening meal here in his rooms. When I came to take his tray away I found him here, on the floor. I called the doctor straight away and asked Armando to let you know.”
Alex heard his brothers enter the room behind him.
“Should we move him onto the bed?” Reynard asked, kneeling down next to Alex.
“No, he is comfortable for now. We’ll wait for the doctor and see what he recommends.”
Alex felt his grandfather’s fingers curl in his, the gnarled digits nowhere near as strong as they should have been. He leaned forward and murmured in Spanish.
“Relax, Abuelo, the doctor is coming.”
But the old man struggled against him, tugging on Alex’s hand as much as he was able. Alex bent closer, trying to make sense of the garbled words coming from his grandfather’s mouth. His skin prickled with an icy chill as he finally understood what the old man was saying.
“It is the governess. She was here. It is the curse.”
Eleven
“What’s he saying?” Benedict asked.
“Nothing,” Alex replied, his answer clipped. “He’s rambling.”
It was always the damn curse. Even now his grandfather wouldn’t let go of it. Anger and frustration warred with concern for the old man. He’d done everything he could to put Abuelo’s mind at ease. He’d married Loren. He believed she was now carrying his baby. But without conclusive proof she was pregnant he couldn’t divulge that information to his grandfather.
Or could he? It might be the difference between the old man fighting what appeared to be another stroke or giving up entirely.
Alex gripped his grandfather’s hand more tightly. Willing his strength into the old man’s failing body.
“It is too late,” Aston said, his voice growing weaker. “She has won, hasn’t she, the governess?”
“No, Abuelo, she hasn’t won. The curse, it is broken.” Alex forced the words from his lips, prepared to do anything to hold his grandfather to the world around them for as long as he could.
“Broken? Are you certain?” Aston del Castillo’s voice grew ever so slightly stronger.
“Sí, I am certain.”
Just then the doctor arrived at the door, followed closely behind by an emergency paramedic team. In the subsequent bustle of activity as Aston was checked and deemed safe to move to the waiting ambulance downstairs, Alex noticed Loren hovering just inside the doorway.
How long had she been there? Had she heard the exchange between him and his grandfather? No, probably not, he consoled himself. Even Reynard and Benedict who had been at his side could barely hear his grandfather’s words.
He looked at her again, studied her drawn features, the concern painted so starkly in her eyes and he knew that she would give him the answer he sought tonight.
“Señor del Castillo?”
Alex and his brothers all turned toward the doctor.
“I believe your grandfather has suffered another stroke. I will admit him to hospital immediately. We will need to do a CT scan and possibly an MRI as soon as possible.”
“Whatever it takes, Doctor,” Alex said, his voice suddenly thick with emotion. “Just make sure he can come back home again.”
“We will do everything in our power. I will travel in the ambulance with your grandfather. Perhaps one of you could follow in my car?”
“We will all come to the hospital,” Reynard said.
Alex cast Loren a glance. In response she gave a small nod.
“Fine,” he said. “Loren and I will bring one of the estate cars and you and Benedict can travel in the doctor’s vehicle. That way we all have transport back home.”
He could see that Loren wanted to protest, perhaps even to suggest that she’d travel with Reynard or Benedict, but thankfully she merely acceded to his suggestion.
They completed the drive to the hospital, on the outskirts of Puerto Seguro, in silence. Alex had no need for casual conversation when all he wanted right now was to see his grandfather safely settled in the hospital and to hear a promising prognosis for his future from the neurological specialist on call.
They were pulling up outside the hospital when he placed a hand on Loren’s arm and squeezed lightly.
“Thank you,” he said.
“What for? I’ve done nothing tonight.”
“For coming with me.”
He meant it, too. It would reassure his grandfather to see Loren with him. Would help underline his promise that the curse was well and truly broken. That there was a power of hope ahead for the del Castillo family.
“Alex, you know I would do anything for your grandfather.”
Anything for his grandfather but not for him? Alex bit back the question before he could give it voice.
“I am grateful for that,” he finally managed through a throat that had suddenly grown thick with emotion.
“He’s strong, Alex. He’ll be okay.”
Loren placed her free hand over his and pressed firmly, as if trying to underline her words and make them a reality.
He could only nod. Drawing in a deep breath, he pulled away from her, missing the contact instantly.
“Come, let’s go into the emergency department.”
He helped her from the car and was relieved when she didn’t pull away from him as he draped one arm around her shoulders and pulled her close against his side. Where she belonged, he reminded himself. No matter what this strange distant game she had played tonight, she was his wife and she belonged with him. Always.
* * *
It was nearly two in the morning when they made it back to the castillo. Alex’s grandfather was comfortably settled in a private room at the hospital, his neurologist hopeful that because of Javier’s quick call for help that they had been successful in halting any additional damage as a result of the ischemic stroke he’d suffered. They’d been able to medicate as soon as the scan results had confirmed their suspicions, falling just within the window of time vital to ensure a strong chance of survival and recovery.
Alex had taken a moment to thank Javier as they’d arrived home. The manservant had been awaiting their arrival and broke into unashamed sobs of relief when given the news that his master would in all likelihood pull through with minimal permanent damage.
Reynard and Benedict had chosen to take taxis to their homes directly from the hospital, rather than return to the castillo for their vehicles or stay over at their old family home. The next day would be soon enough to work out the logistics of recovering their vehicles. Besides, they would undoubtedly cross over with one another at the hospital as each planned to be there with their grandfather for as much time as their work commitments permitted.
Loren left Alex with Javier and went up the stairs to their rooms, feeling more than twice her age as she let herself into her bedroom and kicked off her shoes.
She looked around the room, feeling as if it had been days since she’d been here, rather than the hours it had actually been. Her eyes fell on the fragrant candles she’d set around the room in an effort to create the right atmosphere in which to seduce her husband. A seduction she’d planned before she’d heard what she suspected was the first excruciating shred of complete honesty from him in all her time back here.
In the drama surrounding Abuelo’s stroke, the earlier events of the evening had been pushed aside, but now every word she’d overhead came rushing back in a painful remembrance.
She quickly gathered the candles up and dropped them into the wastebasket near her escritoire. She stood there, shaking with anger. How dare he have played with her life like that and then call it a mistake?
“Loren?” Alex spoke from the entrance to her bedroom. “Are you all right?”
A short, sharp sound burst from her throat. It should have been a laugh but there
was far too much bitterness behind it to even mimic humor. Alex covered the distance toward her and tried to take her in his arms, but she pulled free and took two steps back from him.
“Don’t! Don’t touch me.”
She had to keep some distance between them; it was the only way she could keep her anger in the forefront of her mind when all her body wanted to do was meld with his and find again the ecstasy they’d shared for all too brief a time. She knew it took more than a physical connection to keep a marriage alive.
“Don’t touch you? What is wrong? I’ve barely seen you all week and we’ve had a very distressing evening. I need to touch you. I need you.”
“No.” She shook her head.
The bleak weariness that had been on Alex’s face earlier was now replaced by sharp intellect and a satisfied nod of understanding. “You are emotional. It is only to be expected. Giselle told me today you might be pregnant.”
Loren couldn’t believe her ears. “Giselle what?”
Alex continued, “Don’t you think that you should perhaps have given me the news yourself?”
“And when would I have had the opportunity? You’ve been away from the castillo all week—not even home at night until very late and then gone early in the morning. Even today, on the telephone, you treated me as no more than a private messenger service.” She cut the air between them with a sweep of her hand. “Whatever, as it happens, your assistant’s conjecture is premature. My cycle was obviously out of sync. Whether it was from the travel or the stress of the wedding, it matters little. Tomorrow I will have my period.”
“And you know this for sure because?” he growled.
“Because I know my own body, and I know I’m not pregnant.”
Alex blew out a breath and closed his eyes, his features suddenly contorted with disappointment. When he opened his eyes she was struck by the raw regret mirrored there. She decided to ignore it. She was no doubt as wrong about his feelings on this as she’d been about so many things to do with Alexander del Castillo. If he had any regrets it would only be that he had to continue with this total charade of a marriage to get the heir he so desperately wanted.
“I’ve given the matter of our prenuptial agreement further thought,” she continued. “I believe it would be best for us to go back to my original request for an assisted pregnancy. In fact, I’d prefer it.”
“Prefer it?” Alex echoed.
“Yes. Intercourse between us is clearly going to be a hit-and-miss affair. After all, it’s not as if we didn’t try hard enough before. To be honest with you, I’m not keen to resume that side of our marriage.”
“Not keen.” His voice was flat, his jaw rock hard.
She clenched her hands into fists at her sides, her fingernails digging small crescents.
“That’s right. Plus, I believe you also wish to get on with things yourself.”
“Things? Would you care to define exactly what those things are?”
Loren chewed her lower lip for a second. Did she dare acknowledge that she knew of his affair with Giselle, that she was aware he’d been biding his time to pick up again where they’d left off? She lifted her chin and met his gaze squarely.
“I think you know what I’m referring to. We both know this marriage between us was a mistake. In fact I heard you say the very thing yourself tonight.”
“You heard me say that?” His voice was deadpan, as was the expression in his eyes.
Alex stepped in closer, filling her senses with his presence. Loren stood her ground. He knew very well what he’d said and now he knew she’d overheard him.
“Alex, as I said before, I will fulfill my duties to you under our legal agreement. That means I must deliver you a child. There was nothing in there about how I am to achieve that goal so I elect to use the clinical facility here on the island. Now, if that is all, it has been an extremely long and demanding day and I would like to get some sleep.”
“There was also nothing in there about you being the one to elect how you should fall pregnant,” Alex said.
Loren felt her heart stutter in her chest before resuming a rapid rhythm. “Are you suggesting you would force me?”
“Force? No, I doubt that would be necessary. Not when I know I can do this and have you willing in my arms.”
He snaked one arm around her waist and drew her against his body, molding her hips to his lower body, widening his stance to cradle her there. Instantly Loren felt the answering call of her body to his, the intensity of awareness, the heated flow of blood through her veins.
When Alex bent his head to hers and caught her lips in a possessive kiss she found herself answering in kind. Allowing her anger an outlet, showing him he may be able to dominate her physically but he would never dominate her will.
They were both panting, their breathing discordant and harsh in the air between them, when Alex broke away.
“Out of respect for your oncoming condition,” he said, his fingers splaying across her hip and lower belly, “I will not continue, but I believe my point has been made. You cannot refuse me, Loren. Your own body makes a lie of that.”
As she watched him leave the bedroom and pull her door closed behind him she forced herself to acknowledge he was painfully right. She’d adored him as a child, been infatuated with him as a teen. Now she loved him with every cell in her body as a woman. Even knowing he would still choose another did not assuage the loss she felt as he’d walked away.
Was this how her father had felt when he’d learned of her mother’s infidelity? This frantic sense of hurt and betrayal, the urgent desire to turn back the clock and start over—to get things right next time?
Her mother had once, and only once, alluded to the fact that she’d chosen to do something totally against her nature to force her husband to finally let her go. That the passionate highs and desperate lows of their rocky marriage had been as destructive as they’d been exhilarating and that she’d been incapable of bearing them any longer.
The fact that Naomi had been unfaithful to Francois Dubois to break free of her marriage had been a cop-out as far as Loren was concerned. She’d always believed that if they had loved one another enough they could have made things work. Not all marriages were always sailed on an even keel. Some people, some relationships, were just not cut out to be like that. That didn’t mean they had to fall apart.
But the one thing Loren did know for certain was that when one partner loved less, or not at all, that marriage was doomed to failure.
* * *
When Loren woke the next morning with her period she was torn between relief that she wasn’t yet forced to bring a baby into a loveless marriage and sorrow that the intimacy they’d shared in so much happier times, no matter how orchestrated, had not resulted in a child to love. After taking care of her needs she carried on through into the sitting room of their suite. Her maid usually ensured a tray was sent up for Loren each morning with her preference of cereal and yogurt for breakfast together with freshly squeezed orange juice. Loren usually took this quiet time in the morning to review the papers and plan her day.
She was surprised, however, to see Alex pacing the carpet when she pushed open her chamber door.
“Abuelo?” she asked, one hand to her throat. “Is everything all right?”
“Sí, he is resting comfortably. That is not why I’m here.”
“Oh? What is it, then?” Loren went instantly on the defensive. “Ready to go for round two in the baby debate?”
“There is no debate,” Alex responded, his voice harsh.
“Well, there certainly is no debate today. I have my period. You can go and carry on with whatever it is you’re supposed to be doing today.”
“Are you certain?”
Loren just stared at him. She knew she looked anything but her usual self this morning. The cramps had started in earnest shortly after she’d gone to bed and had kept her awake for the rest of the night. Her reflection in the mirror had shown her cheeks were pale, her eyes
dark and shadowed.
“I will contact the doctor today and find out what is necessary to instigate the procedure.”
Alex rubbed one hand across his eyes and sighed.
“Loren, it doesn’t have to be like this.”
“Yes, Alex, it does. We wouldn’t want there to be any further mistakes, now would we?”
“You have taken my words out of context,” he argued back.
“Just how out of context?”
Alex felt a swirl of helplessness eddy within him in the growing whirlpool of frustration he’d been feeling since the previous night. If only he could convince her to listen to what he’d really meant. Caution warned him that today was probably not the best time to broach the subject of his innermost thoughts. She was unlikely to believe him if he declared his love for her right now, and given how he’d dissembled to her already he could hardly blame her.
Just seeing her like this, looking bruised and fragile, made him want to sweep her into his arms and tuck her back into her bed. To force her to relax and regain her strength. To be the vibrant young woman he’d reintroduced himself to in New Zealand.
“I do not wish to banter with you about something as important as this when you are clearly not at your best. Perhaps when you are feeling better and more amenable to discussion—”
“This is not just some passing mood, Alex! I’m serious. As far as I am concerned, until we are discussing the creation of our child, we have nothing else to say to one another.”
“Fine,” he said in clipped tones, not wanting to acknowledge the hurt her words had inflicted upon his hopes. “You contact the clinic. Let me know when and where I’m needed or if you happen to change your mind from this ridiculous insistence of yours.”
Alex drove to his office in a fury, barely even noticing the summer glory of the countryside that led to the resort’s location.
The fact Loren was totally unwilling to resume the physical side of their marriage completely baffled him. They had been perfect together. So she’d overhead him saying he’d made a mistake. He had. He was man enough to admit that. But her adamant refusal to enter into discussions with him unless they were discussing their child caused a pain inside him that was physical as much as it was emotional. A pain he was totally unaccustomed to feeling. If this was love, no wonder his ancestors had primarily chosen to marry for any other reason but that. Anything was better than giving someone else the power to make you hurt inside the way he hurt right now.
The Tycoon's Charm: The Tycoon's Paternity AgendaHonor-Bound Groom Page 29