‘I am saving our backsides,’ Luis informed him calmly. He had hoped to have this conversation after the deed was done. He’d known from the outset that his brother would not approve this plan of action. How he had discovered that he was with Chloe was a mystery to be solved another time.
‘By getting involved with that poisonous bitch?’
‘Do not speak of her in that way,’ Luis cut in, his hackles rising at the insult to Chloe.
She was the least poisonous woman he knew.
‘She is a Guillem. Everything they touch is poison.’
Luis counted to ten before responding.
He had to remember that it was Javier’s fiancée Benjamin had stolen away with Chloe’s assistance. For Javier, it ran much more deeply.
‘I’m marrying her today. Having Chloe as my wife will prove to the world that the rumours of what happened between us and Benjamin are unfounded. George will be placated. It will save the Canadian project and kill the rumours flying around about us.’
‘I don’t care about any of that.’
‘We have already invested fifty million euros in it. That’s money we will never get back. Investors on other projects are asking questions too. I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.’
‘The other investors won’t do anything, you’ll see. It will blow over and, even if it doesn’t, I would rather take the financial hit than have a Guillem marry into our family.’
‘Don’t be so petty. I’m saving our business by doing this.’ He almost added that marrying Chloe was an excellent form of revenge on Benjamin but stopped himself at the last moment.
It felt like a lifetime ago that revenge had been the driving force behind all this.
When had that motive disappeared?
He shrugged the thought away and concentrated on the conversation at hand.
‘Our backsides don’t need saving any more than our business does. Our fortune is safe. We might take a short-term hit but we can claw the long-term back, and we can preserve our reputations by other means.’
‘What other means?’ Luis demanded to know.
‘We would have thought of something already if you hadn’t gone running off on this hare-brained scheme.’
‘You were not in the mood to talk,’ Luis reminded him with equal venom. ‘Need I remind you that your whole attitude was to sit and seethe with only yourself for company?’
‘I was thinking.’
‘And I was doing. Marrying Chloe is the best solution for everyone.’
‘Have you lost your mind?’ his brother demanded with incredulity. ‘We have overcome worse than this by working together and putting on a united front. That’s all we need to do. Ride it out. We don’t need her and I cannot believe you would think otherwise. That woman conspired with her brother to destroy us and now you want to marry her into our family? No, you have lost your mind, and over a woman...’ His disgust was clear to hear. ‘Has her pretty face blinded you to her poison?’
‘Do not be ridiculous,’ Luis snarled, the end of his tether reached. ‘Chloe regrets the part she played and wants to put things right.’
‘You defend her?’ Javier’s laughter was hollow. ‘Marry her if you must but do not pretend it’s for our sake. We do not need her to get through this and for you to think otherwise only proves your head has been turned.’
Then the line went dead.
Anger fisting in his guts, Luis threw his phone on the floor.
How dared his own twin question his judgement in such a way? And as for saying he’d lost his mind over Chloe...
Luis accepted that he’d let her get closer than he’d ever intended but he had not lost his head. He could walk away from her right now and not feel an ounce of regret.
In an instant the anger was replaced by a wave of relief so strong he could almost see the ripples in the air as it left his shoulders, all the tension and knots that had grown in him these past few days leaving with it.
Javier was wrong about his feelings for Chloe but in one respect he was right.
It always had been the two of them, the Casillas brothers against the world. Everything the cruel world had thrown at them had been faced and defeated together. Why should this situation be any different?
And why had it taken so long for him to recognise it?
Whatever the reason, his relief was absolute.
He didn’t have to marry Chloe.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHLOE STEPPED OUT of the bathroom with only a towel around her. Luis was sitting on the edge of the bed.
One look at his face told her something was wrong.
‘What’s the matter?’ She walked to her dressing table to put her watch on.
‘Nothing’s wrong. Quite the opposite.’
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Our wedding is off.’
She laughed. ‘Funny. You should be a comedian.’
‘Our wedding is off. I’ve let the captain know. I’ve had a helicopter flown in which will transport us to Lisa Island and...’
‘Are you being serious?’ she interrupted.
‘Yes.’
She searched his face. ‘But why? Is it something I’ve done?’
‘No, bonita. You have done nothing wrong. Au contraire, as you would say. I have spoken to Javier. We are in agreement that it is unnecessary for me to marry you. We have decided to proceed as we have always done; together, putting on a united front to the world. Be happy. You can be out of my life sooner than you had hoped.’
Chloe felt the blood drain from her face. It happened so quickly she had to grab hold of the dressing table tightly as the room began to spin.
It took a few goes before she could open her throat enough to speak and when she did, her words were croaky. ‘Our marriage is no longer necessary?’
‘I apologise for wasting your time.’
‘Are you for real? Is this a joke?’ This absolutely did not make sense. The look on his face did not make sense, a mixture of lightness and grimness, a strange combination that terrified her.
‘I am for real and this is not a joke.’ He got to his feet. ‘The helicopter will leave here in an hour and I’ve arranged for a jet to take you from Lisa Island back to Grand Bahama. Let me know when you wish to fly back to Europe and I will get that arranged for you too.’
He headed out of the bedroom door, hands in pockets, as nonchalant as if he’d just told her breakfast was about to be served.
This could not be happening.
This was happening.
Violent storms churned in her belly, hot and cold darts bouncing in her dazed head.
Forcing her newly leaden legs to move and holding tightly to her towel, Chloe hurried out of the room behind him. ‘Wait just one minute.’
He couldn’t end it like this. No. This was all wrong. Not now, not after everything.
He was halfway down the corridor.
‘Wait just one minute,’ she repeated, raising her voice so he could not pretend to ignore her.
He stopped.
‘Why are you doing this?’
‘I just explained it to you.’
‘No, you didn’t. And please show me the courtesy of looking at me when you are speaking to me.’
He didn’t move. ‘I thought you would be happy.’
‘Will you turn around and look at me?’ she begged. ‘Please, Luis, just look at me. Talk to me.’
If she had something to hand to throw at him to compel him to turn and face her she would take it gladly.
She needed to look in his eyes, really look, make sense of this grenade he had just thrown at her feet.
All she had was her towel.
He slowly turned.
When she finally got to look in his eyes she quailed.
Th
ere was nothing to read in them.
The shutters had come down and locked themselves shut.
‘You only agreed to marriage because I blackmailed you,’ he reminded her steadily, his frame like a statue. ‘Neither of us wanted it.’
‘I don’t care about the marriage. I care that you’re walking away from us without a word of discussion about it.’
‘Bonita, there is no us. There never was.’
‘Then what was the last week all about? That felt like an us to me.’
She had seen tenderness in his eyes. She had felt his tenderness in his kisses.
Surely, surely that hadn’t all been a lie? Surely she hadn’t dreamt it all up?
Her brain clouded in a steamy fog as she realised what she had done.
She had allowed herself to dream.
A fiery burn stabbed the back of her retinas and she blinked rapidly, driving the tears back, begging them not to fall, not to humiliate her.
‘I am not responsible for your feelings,’ he told her in that same steady voice. ‘We were both very clear that our marriage would be a temporary arrangement to quell the stories and preserve my business. Javier and I...’
‘Was it him?’ Ice plunged into her spine at the mention of that hateful man, the ripples driving out the fog in her brain and bringing her to a form of clarity.
She believed Luis had had nothing to do with her brother signing the contract under false pretences but she would bet her brother’s chateau that Javier had known.
‘Talking to Javier made me see that this route was unnecessary. I acted rashly in demanding marriage from you. I should have thought things through in more detail but I was angry. Your brother had declared war on us.’ He shrugged, a nonchalant, dismissive gesture that had her clenching her hands into fists. ‘As regretful as it is with hindsight, anger leads to impulsive actions.’
She stared at him, trying her hardest to get air into her lungs. ‘So I’ve given you all of this for nothing?’
‘All of what?’
The tears she had come so close to shedding were sucked away as fury finally cut its way through the anguish.
She dropped her towel and held her arms out. ‘This! Me!’
Let him see her naked. Let him see what he had taken, what she had given him, the very thing she had never given to anyone. Let him see her heart beating so frenziedly beneath her skin and the chest struggling to get air into it.
Let him see her.
Finally there was a flicker of something in his eyes.
‘Oh, you liked this part, didn’t you?’ She laughed mirthlessly. ‘You couldn’t get enough of it. I bet you were laughing through your teeth every time you made love to me. But there was no love in it, was there? It was all just sex to you—’
‘Chloe,’ he tried to cut in, but she was on a roll, anger and humiliation and a splintering heart too much to bear with any form of stoicism.
‘Was it all a joke the pair of you dreamt up? Did I give you my virginity as part of a screwed-up game?’
His face contorted. ‘You are making too much of this. We were never going to be for ever.’
‘Of course we weren’t going to be for ever. You don’t do for ever, do you? Too busy hiding your feelings, scared someone will see too deeply and think the same as your father did. That’s what scares you, isn’t it?’
‘How dare you?’ The statue suddenly came to life with a roar.
‘No, how dare you? How dare you make love to me like I mean something, how dare you comfort me, how dare you confide in me, how dare you make me dream when dreams were something I had given up?’ Aware of angry tears splashing down her cheeks, she swiped them away.
‘I have never lied to you,’ he snarled, storming over to stand before her, as tall and as broad as she had ever seen him. ‘You are the one who has made too much of what we’ve shared here. How would you have liked me to make love to you? With indifference?’
‘I wish I’d never let you touch me in the first place!’
‘But you did, didn’t you?’ He took hold of her chin roughly but painlessly and stared at her with eyes that spat fury. ‘Do not blame me for your desires. We were never going to last. We’ve had fun together—I admit, I never expected to enjoy our time here as much as I have but now it is over. All I’m doing is bringing the end date forward and allowing us to pick up our lives.’
Chloe’s open hand was inches from connecting with his hateful face before she became aware that she was on the verge of slapping him.
Even with all the hurt and fury unravelling like a nightmare kaleidoscope inside her she could not bring herself to physically harm him, not now, not with the tales of his father’s violence so fresh in her mind.
What kind of a person would that make her?
She had lashed out at Luis before and he’d overpowered her easily but that meant nothing.
If she struck her hand to him that would make her as bad as the dead man she hated.
She wanted to hurt him. But not like that.
She would rather rip her own heart out than strike him in anger again.
Taking a deep breath, she dropped her hand and, with all the dignity she could muster in her naked state, looked him straight in the eye.
‘You call what we have shared fun? Fun is for the parties you like to throw and for the women whose beds you hop in and out of without a care. I bared my soul to you. I confided things in you that I have never shared with anyone because I trusted you. I deserve better than to be discarded like an unwanted puppy that’s outgrown its cuteness.’
But the dignity was fleeting for as soon as she had said her piece she could feel the bones in her legs begin to crumble.
Terrified he would see the depths of her pain, Chloe turned on her heel and fled back to the bedroom.
The door shut with a bang loud enough to damage the hinges.
Luis closed his eyes and blew out a long puff of air.
After taking a few moments to gather his composure and rub his forehead to lessen the forming headache, he bent down to pick up Chloe’s discarded towel. Discarded as she claimed he was discarding her.
He’d known she would be shocked that he was ending things so abruptly but never had he expected her to react like that.
He hadn’t expected to see the pain in those blue eyes.
Dios, his head was really hurting.
Slinging her towel over his shoulder, he headed down the stairs to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water and scavenged for painkillers. He found a packet stuck in the back of one drawer and popped the tablets out.
This was not his fault, he thought angrily. He was guilty of many things—kidnap, blackmail; the pain in his chest deepened just to think of it—but he had never led her on. Not by word or deed had he done anything to indicate he wanted a future with her.
She should be grateful. Better he ended it now, before she looked hard enough at him and she saw the rottenness that lay in his core. She’d alluded to it, to his father, but how she couldn’t see it already was beyond him. He had kidnapped her. He had blackmailed her.
And she acted as if he’d wounded her by setting her free early.
He tossed the pills down his throat and drank the water. Maybe they would help the pain that had erupted in his chest as well as his head.
He should never have let it get this far. He should have worked harder to keep things on a purely physical level as he had always done before. Maybe then the sting of her words wouldn’t feel so acute.
Hearing footsteps on the stairs, he braced himself for another onslaught.
Chloe appeared in the doorway.
She’d thrown on the shorts and red T-shirt she’d been wearing the day he had kidnapped her and had her beach bag stuffed tightly under her arm.
She walked to him, her gait stiff, stopping far enough
away that there was no danger in either of them touching, accidentally or not.
‘I apologise for bringing your father into it,’ she said tightly. ‘That was uncalled for.’
He inhaled deeply then inclined his head. His throat had closed.
But what could he say? There was nothing left to say. Everything that could be said had already been said.
‘I would be grateful if you would allow me to travel on my own in the helicopter,’ she said into the silence, no longer looking at him.
By the time his throat had opened enough for him to speak, Chloe had walked out of the front door.
He let her go.
* * *
Chloe opened the letter with a shaking hand.
The large padded envelope had the official Compania de Ballet de Casillas logo embossed on it. It had been forwarded from her shared apartment in Madrid to the house she was currently staying at in London, where she had taken sanctuary with her old friend, Tanya. She hadn’t called it sanctuary, of course, had said only that she was taking a break and begged use of Tanya’s spare room.
Inside the envelope was a letter of reference written by Maria, the Head of Costume.
It was a glowing reference too.
She held it to her chest and blinked back tears.
Luis had authorised this for her. He must have done. Maria, as wonderful as she was, would not dare write a reference for her without permission.
Chloe hadn’t asked for a reference. She’d assumed that there was no chance of her getting one, not after she had quit without working her notice and then for her hand in stealing their principal dancer away from the co-owner. She’d assumed her name would be mud in the whole company.
A separate, smaller envelope had fallen out of the package and landed by her feet. She picked it up, opened it and pulled out a goodbye card signed by the entire costume department and many of the other backstage crew. Even a few of the dancers had scribbled their names in it. There was also a personal handwritten note from Maria wishing her all the best for the future and telling her to seek her out the next time she was in Madrid.
The postscript at the end was what got her heart truly racing.
My daughter was going to have this ticket but she can no longer attend. It’s yours. Please come.
Marriage Made in Blackmail Page 14