His brother had done a damn fine job at blending two diverse lifestyles. Kyle and Phoebe might well have some good advice for Eloisa…if he hadn’t walked out on her. If she hadn’t followed up by walking out on him again as well.
It downright sucked being around these guys who practically oozed satisfaction and marital bliss.
Matthew snagged the bottle from his brother. “Extravagant is cool, too, you’ve just got to mix it up some with the practical.”
Clinking the ice, Kyle lifted his glass for a refill. “What’s Ashley’s extravagance?”
Matthew’s mouth twitched with a hint of a smile. “Don’t think I can share that with you, my brother.”
“Hey.” Kyle raised his hands. “Fair enough.”
The sound of a throat clearing reverberated behind them. They all four twisted in their seats.
Their mother’s second husband—General Hank Renshaw—stood in the open French doors. His distinguished military bearing was still visible even after his retirement. His hair might be solid gray now, but he had a sharp brain that made him a major player in the national defense arena. “Hope you boys have saved at least one drink of my best alcohol for me.”
“Yes, sir.” Kyle snagged another glass from the tray they’d brought out with them and passed their stepfather—a lifetime family friend as well—a drink. “Maybe you can help Jonah here figure out how to get his wife back.”
“Hmmm…” The General tipped back his glass with only a slight wince and dragged a chair over to the table. “Well, your mother likes it when I—”
“Whoa! Whoa! Hold on there a minute, General.” The protests of all four brothers tumbled over each other.
Jonah agreed one hundred percent on that staying a secret. “That’s our mom you’re talking about. While I appreciate the offer to help, there are just some things a son doesn’t need to know.”
Matthew drained his glass. “The time we walked in on the two of you damn near gave me a heart attack.”
“Okay, okay.” The General chuckled lowly. “I get the picture.” His laughter faded and he jabbed a thumb toward the door. “Now how about you three take the bottle and clear out so I can talk to Jonah?”
Chairs scraped back and his brothers abandoned ship. The slugging and laughs faded in the hall and up the stairs.
The General refilled both glasses. “Your dad was my best friend.” He lifted his in toast. “He would be proud of you.”
“Thank you. That means a lot to me.” But not enough to clear away the frustration over failing when it counted most.
With Eloisa.
Why had she kept the news from him then? And now? He needed to understand that if they stood a chance at stopping this cycle of turning each other inside out, then running for opposite corners.
He didn’t expect the General was going to be able to offer some magic bullet to fix everything any more than his brothers had. But still he appreciated the support. The General had been there for them after their dad died. He’d always vowed he was just helping out their mom the way she’d helped him after his wife died. But they’d all wondered how long it would take….
“It takes as long as it takes. But you don’t quit.”
How had the General known what he was thinking? “Have you added a mind reader medal to your already impressive collection?”
“Quit beating yourself up about the past and move forward,” the General said with clipped, military efficiency. “Don’t just curl up and admit defeat. You’ve got an opportunity now. Run with it.”
“She’s gone.” Jonah reached into his pocket and pulled out the white card he’d found by her telephone, the same card he remembered Duarte Medina giving her. He flipped the number between his fingers. “She doesn’t want to speak to me or see me again.”
“And you’re going to just quit? Give up on your marriage? Give up on her?”
His fingers slowed, the numbers on the vellum square coming into focus. His whole life coming into focus as well, because this time he wasn’t letting Eloisa just walk away. There was a way to break this cycle after all. Show her how a real family came through for each other, everyone offering support rather than the one-sided deal she’d lived, always being the one giving. No wonder she hadn’t reached out to him when she was hurting.
No one had ever given her reason to think her call for help would be answered.
This time he intended to show her that somebody loved her—he loved her—enough to follow and stay. “You have a point, General.” He tapped the simple white card. “Lucky for me, I think I know exactly how to find her.”
Fourteen
Eloisa sat on her father’s garden patio overlooking the Atlantic, waiting. In minutes she would see Enrique Medina again. How surreal and confusing, and so not the joyful reunion she’d dreamed of as a child.
She turned to Duarte standing beside her somberly. “Thank you for arranging this meeting so quickly.”
“Don’t thank me,” he answered with no warmth. “If it were up to me, we would all go about our lives separately. But this is how he wants it and, bottom line, it’s his call to make.”
His brusqueness made her edgier, as if she wasn’t already about to jump out of her skin. She searched for something benign to diffuse the tension. “The rocky shoreline looks exactly like the one I remember from that single visit—magnificent. I often wondered if my memory was faulty.”
“Apparently not.”
And apparently Duarte would need more prodding to speak. “How strange to think our father has been so close all this time? In the same state even?”
Her biological father had taken up residence on a small private island off the coast of St. Augustine, Florida. One call to Duarte had set everything in motion. Her heart bruised beyond bearing, she’d been on a private jet, flying away from Jonah and the catastrophic mess she’d made of their second chance. Her throat clogged with more tears. She swallowed them and narrowed her attention to satisfying her curiosity about this place she’d thought of so often.
The towering white stucco house, rustling palm trees, massive archways and crashing waves… She could have been seven again, with her mother beside her, waiting for him to greet them.
Duarte touched her arm lightly, bringing her back to the moment. “Eloisa? He’s here.”
The lanai doors creaked opened. But no imposing king stepped out this time. An electric wheelchair hummed the only warning before Enrique came outside. Two large, lopey dogs followed in perfect sync. Confined to the chair, he was thin, gray and weary.
Duarte hadn’t lied. Their father appeared near death. She stood but didn’t reach out. A hug would have seemed strange, affected. The emotion forced. She didn’t know what she felt for him. He’d needed her and beckoned. It was difficult not to resent all the times she’d needed him. Yes, he’d made contact through his lawyer over the years, but so infrequently and impersonally it seemed she was merely an afterthought. Her mind jetted back to that strange, but endearing, Landis family gathering at Jonah’s elegant Texas resort. This family reunion bore no resemblance to that one.
“Hello, sir. You’ll have to pardon me if I’m not quite sure what to call you.”
He waved dismissively, perspiration dotting his forehead. “Call me Enrique.” His body might be weak, but his voice still commanded attention. The Spanish accent was almost as thick as she remembered. “I do not want formality or deserve any titles, king or father. Now sit down, please. I feel like a rude old man for not standing with a lovely lady present.”
She took her seat again and he whirred the chair into position in front of her. The two brown dogs—Ridgebacks, perhaps?—settled on either side. He studied her silently, his hands folded in his lap, veins bruised from what appeared to be frequent IV needles.
Still, no matter the sallow pallor and thinner frame, Enrique Medina’s face was that of royalty. His aristocratic nose and chiseled jaw spoke of his age-old warrior heritage. There was strength in that face, despite everythin
g. And while his heavy blue robe with emerald-green silk lapels was not the garb of a king in his prime, the rich fabrics and sleek leather slippers reflected his wealth.
The old king gestured toward the doors. “Duarte, you can leave us now. I have some things to say to Eloisa alone.”
Duarte nodded, turning away without a word, walking off with steps quieter than those of anyone she’d known. But he wasn’t her reason for being here today. She’d come to see her father, to hopefully find some peace and resolution inside herself.
“I’m sorry you’re ill.”
“So am I.”
He didn’t speak further, and she wondered if perhaps he’d started to lose his mental faculties. She glanced up at the male nurse waiting patiently at the doorway. No answers there.
She looked back at Enrique. “You asked to see me? You sent Duarte.”
“Of course I did. I’m not losing my mind yet anyway.” He straightened his lapels. “Please forgive me for being rude. I was merely struck by how much you resemble my mother. She was quite lovely, too.”
“Thank you.” It would have been nice to have met her grandmother or even see pictures like other kids growing up. Maybe it wasn’t too late. “Do you have photos of her?”
“They were all lost when my home was burned to the ground.”
She blinked fast. Not the answer she’d expected. She’d read what little was reported on the coup in San Rinaldo twenty-seven years ago. She knew her father had barely escaped with his life—his wife had not. He and his sons had gone into hiding. And while she understood the danger, she’d never truly thought of all he’d lost.
Certainly losing a picture wasn’t the same as losing a person, but to have lost even those bits of comfort and reminders… “Then we’ll have to make sure you have a picture of me to remember her by.”
“Thank you, but I imagine I will be seeing her soon enough.” He spoke of his death so matter-of-factly it stunned her. “Which brings me to why I called for you, pequeña princesa.”
Little princess? Small princess? Either way, she’d never dared think of herself with that title. More than anything, her heart stumbled on the endearment that Harry had always applied to his biological daughter and never to her. Not that she would let mere words sway her after all this time.
Enrique steadied his breathing. “There are some things you need to know and time is short. Whether I die or someone finally finds me, our secret will come out someday. Even I can only hold back that tide for just so long.”
The thought of that kind of exposure sent her reaching for the lemonade beside her. What if the king’s enemies sought him out again? Sought her out? “Where will you hide then?”
If he was still alive.
“I am a king.” His chin tipped. “I do not hide. I stay here for the people I love.”
“I’m not sure I follow what you mean.”
“By staying here, it keeps up the illusion that I—and my children—are in Argentina. No one bothers to look for them. No one can hurt them the way they went after my Beatriz.”
Beatriz, his wife who’d been gunned down during the escape. “That must have been awful for you.”
And her brothers.
His chin tipped higher as he looked away for a moment unblinking. Seeing the Herculean strength of will in a man so weak…
He focused his intense dark eyes on her again. “It was difficult meeting your mother so soon after my Beatriz was murdered. I did love your mother, as much as I could at that time. She told me if she could not have my full heart, she wanted nothing.”
She’d always thought her mother stayed away because of safety reasons. She’d never considered her mom acted out of emotion. Harry Taylor may not be anyone’s idea of Prince Charming, but he had adored her mother. Eloisa sat back in her chair and let Enrique talk. He seemed to need to unload burdens. For the first time, she realized how much she needed to listen.
“I am sorry I did not get to watch you grow up. Nothing I can do now will make up for the fact I was not the father you deserved.”
The humble honesty of that simple statement meant more to her than any amount of money. She’d been waiting a lifetime to hear him admit he should have been a father to her.
And while that didn’t erase the past, it was a first step toward a healing. She brushed her fingers over his bruised hand, words escaping her.
“I did decide to ask your mother to marry me.”
“What happened?”
“I finally looked past my grief to see a new chance at love waiting.”
“She didn’t want to live here?”
“Oh no, she wouldn’t have minded staying here. She told me so. I just waited too long to ask.”
Oh my God. “She’d already married Harry.”
“I fought for her six months too late,” he said simply. “Don’t wait too long to fight, pequeña princesa.”
But her chance was gone now.
This time, Jonah had left her. She wanted to shout her hurt and pain over the way he’d left, even knowing she’d brought it on herself. He was the one who’d walked out, not her. Enrique didn’t understand. How could he? He didn’t know her. He couldn’t, not from detective reports or however he’d kept watch over her life.
She started to tell him just that but something in his eyes stopped her, a deep wisdom that came from experiences she couldn’t begin to comprehend. This man knew what it meant to fight.
And his blood ran through her veins.
Eloisa gripped the arms of her chair with a newfound strength. She was through hiding in her library and in her fears. She loved Jonah Landis and wanted a life with him, wherever that life took them. He was hurting and angry now, and she couldn’t blame him. She hadn’t put her heart on the line for him. Taking cautious to a new level. But she would remedy that now. She was in this for the long haul.
She would fight for him so damn hard he wouldn’t know what hit him.
Pushing to her feet, she cupped Enrique’s face in her hands. “You certainly are a devious old man, but I do believe I like you.”
His laugh rumbled as he gave her a smile and a regal nod.
Eloisa backed away slowly until her hands fell to her sides. “I have to go, but I will come back. I just need to clear up some things with Jonah first.”
Her father raised his hand and twirled a finger. “Turn around.”
What? Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder. And her heart lodged squarely in her throat.
Jonah stood waiting in the archway, his hair slicked back and flowers in his hand.
Jonah barely had time to nod to Eloisa’s father before the old king vacated the porch, leaving him alone with her. He owed Duarte and Enrique for making this reunion happen.
And he intended to repay them by keeping Eloisa safe and happy for the rest of her life.
He closed the last few steps between them, flowers extended. “I don’t know what specific kind of gift you would want that ‘speaks’ to your soul, so I had to settle for flowers. But they’re pink tulips, like the picture on your wall. I figured you must have chosen it because you like them.”
“They’re perfect! Thank you.” Taking the flowers in one hand, she pressed her fingers to his lips with her other. The ocean wind molded her sundress to her body just the way it had when he’d seen her again outside her sister’s engagement party. They’d covered a lot of ground in a few short days.
“Jonah, I so was wrong when I said we don’t know each other.” She brought the tulips up just under her nose and inhaled. “The flowers are lovely but you’ve already given me exactly what speaks to my soul. You give me infinity pools and walk with me through dusty castles full of history. You coax me out of my dark office and you even compliment my apple-flavored lip gloss. You know everything about me except—” she arched up on her toes, the flowers crushed lightly between them “—how very deeply I love you.”
He swept her hair back and cradled her head, the subtle scent of tulips mixing with the ta
ngy salt air and the essence of her. “I know now—” thank God “—and look forward to telling you and showing you just how much I love you in every country around the world. If you’re up for the adventure?”
“I like the sound of those ideas you discussed earlier for blending our lives together. I think I’m more than ready to bring my library research world out into the field again. As long as you’re there with me.”
She angled her head to meet his kiss, the taste of apples and the touch of her tongue familiar and far too exciting when they could be interrupted at any second.
“We should speak to your father.”
“Soon,” she said, her smile fading. “But first I need you to know how sorry I am for not telling you about the baby right when I found out, and then for not telling you once we got involved again. That was wrong of me to keep it from you. You deserved to know.”
“Thank you for that. You didn’t have to say it, but I appreciate hearing it.” The knowledge of that loss still hurt, and he suspected it would for a long time. But he understood how difficult it was for her to trust. He expected he would still have some work to do in easing away barriers she’d spent a lifetime erecting.
But he was damn good at renovations, at making something magnificent from the foundation already in place. “I brought something else for you besides the flowers.”
“You didn’t have to bring me anything. You’re being here means more than I can say.”
“I should have followed you before. I should have been there for you.”
She cupped his face. “We’re moving forward, remember?” Eloisa kissed him again, and once more, holding for three intense heartbeats. “Now what did you want to show me?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out two gold bands. Theirs. He’d kept them the whole year. Her eyes bright with her smile and unshed tears, she held up her hand. He slid Eloisa’s wedding ring onto her finger, and she slid his in place again as well, clasping his hand tightly in hers. This time, he knew, those rings weren’t coming off again.
The Tycoon Takes a Wife Page 14