by Jan Moran
Chapter 4
Exiting the restaurant, Lily walked as quickly as her torturous heels would let her. Diego had not only let her down but humiliated her in front of his family.
Their night together was special and would remain so…in her memory. Nothing else could come between them.
Walking along the river, she sighed with relief that a taxi rank was not too far away.
“Lily, wait up,” she heard him call. Ignoring him, she picked up the pace despite the intense pain in her ankle.
The sound of his shoe soles hitting the pavement crescendoed and within seconds he was standing next to her. His hand gently gripped her elbow, forcing her to stop.
“Why did you leave?” Concern tightened his jaw.
Straightening her shoulders she said, “We had a one-night stand, let’s just leave it at that.” She flicked her arm in the air to rid herself of him clutching her.
The skin between his eyebrows creased. “Did my mum or sister upset you?”
“No, they didn’t,” she replied with a flippant tone. Well, just a bit if she was honest, but she certainly wasn’t going to tell him that.
The cool evening Autumn air caressed her flushed skin. “It’s been great but I think we should leave it as a great night of sex.” She extended her hand out to shake his, like she was confirming a deal.
He growled in the back of his throat and pushed her hand away. “You’ve got to be joking.”
“No, I’m not.” Sucking in a deep breath of confidence she fired at him, “Tonight was the night I was going to take a step toward launching my new career and you let me down.”
“The performance?” His face paled and he slapped his forehead with his hand. “I’m so sorry, Lily, I totally forgot to organise it.”
“It’s too late,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “But don’t worry about it. It’s not like we’re dating.”
Remorse clouded his dark eyes. “But you were—”
“Forget it,” she snapped, raising her hand, hoping an action would stop him from speaking. “We’re too different. You want to marry whereas I—”
“What?” he fired, his body stiffening with frustration. “Who said that?”
“Camilla, if you must know,” she added with a saccharin sweetened voice.
“Lily.” He took a step toward her.
“Don’t you Lily me.” She wagged her finger at him.
“You owe me a performance,” he said in a beseeching tone.
“I owe you nothing,” she flung at him before turning to walk to the bridge. But the stupid heels meant she didn’t get far and he was by her side in a few angry steps.
“Let’s talk.” He grasped her hand.
Tugging her hand she said, “Let’s not.” Her eyes narrowed seeing his lips curve into a grin. “Why are you smiling?”
Giving her a bone-melting smile he said, “You’re beautiful when you’re angry.”
“Urgh. I’m not angry,” she said, tossing her hair. “I want to go home.”
“I’ll take you.” He stood directly in front of her like he was a fence.
Rolling her eyes, she walked around him and flung over her shoulder. “No thanks, I’ll get a cab.”
Then, before she could cry out his name, he’d grabbed her by the waist, lifted her with ease, and tossed her over his shoulder, caveman style.
The blood whooshed to her head while she dangled upside down. Bastard. “Put. Me. Down!” She punched. Hard. He laughed at her antics, which made her even crankier.
With one strong arm wrapped around her thighs and the other firmly holding her ankles, she couldn’t kick her way free. Shame.
He strode with her over his shoulder and didn’t slow his pace even as they passed a group of young men cheering and wolf-whistling at the ridiculous sight of her.
Disoriented from being upside down, she needed a minute to steady herself when he finally lowered her to the ground, before she made her escape.
“Here’s my car.” He opened the car door and plonked her in the front seat.
“Aren’t you multi-talented?” She praised. “Able to kidnap women and put them in a car, all in one easy step?”
He leaned across her and snapped her seat belt, fastening her to the seat. “You’re gorgeous when you’re angry,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her neck. “We’ll talk and then I’m taking you home.”
“No. Now.” She slapped the dashboard with her hand, letting him know she wasn’t interested in his games.
“No, we’re talking first,” he said with a firmness that made her want to scream out her frustration. Darn him.
The car sprang to life with a touch of a button.
“We could’ve talked outside,” she said through gritted teeth.
“I prefer to talk privately,” he replied in a low voice, seemingly unfazed by her scowl.
Within a few minutes they were driving into his luxurious St Kilda Road apartment just minutes from the city. After parking in his allocated spot, he killed the engine and turned to her. “Here we are.”
Their gazes clashed.
Her body went hot, to cold, to burning hot.
“I’m not interested.” Her fingers fluttered to her throat.
He laughed deep in the back of his throat. “Sure,” he said in a disbelieving voice before unfastening his seat belt and exiting the car.
Her gaze flicked downward and she gasped seeing her nipples straining against the silk of her dress. Traitors!
The door opened, and Diego and his expert manners helped her out of the car.
With a humpf, she got out and set off toward the lift. Angry at him, his family, and also her breasts—how dare they be perky for him?
He followed and stood by her side as they waited for the lift to descend. “Are you going to say something?”
She flashed him a dark, forget-it, look before turning her attention to the lift’s buttons.
He chuckled. “That’s okay, I prefer my women to be on the quiet side.”
A swipe of a card, a read of his thumb print before the elevator whisked them upward, heading straight for his apartment.
“This quiet side of you, it’s becoming.”
She tore her eyes from the design of the plush carpet pile and glared at him. “Are you interested in becoming a stand-up comic?”
His deep belly laugh reply and her inability to exacerbate him made her want to stab her stiletto in his toes.
The doors opened and she walked into his stunning apartment like she belonged there. Kicking off her shoes, she purred with relief. Her naked toes wriggled in the luxurious wool blend carpet making her sigh with contentment. Bliss.
The soft lamp bathed the apartment with a golden, inviting glow, creating a warm and inviting mood. It clashed uncomfortably with the disappointment and setback of the evening, which weighed heavily on her shoulders. An urge to be at home in her comfy pyjamas, sipping chamomile tea, had her snapping at Diego. Couldn’t he see that tonight had been a disaster and the auction had been a disaster? She needed time to reflect on how she was going to overcome these mishaps.
Through the floor-to-ceiling glass panels, the Melbourne CBD and St. Kilda Road lit up the night. She gazed at its magnificence, allowing her a moment of calm. “What a view,” she said under her breath. The last time she’d been here she hadn’t noticed the view, the luxury of the apartment. Her focus had been on Diego alone.
“Can I get you something?” His question broke her thoughts. “How about some wine?” His demeanour was calm and unruffled before he pressed a button near the fireplace. The gas log fire sprang to life, welcoming and warming her.
“You want to get me a drink?” she said, tearing her gaze from the comfort of the fireplace. “Really?” Irritation made her snap.
“I’m a polite host,” he added with a shrug.
“Nothing, thanks.” She crossed her arms.
“Let’s sit.” He took her hand, guiding her to a large, inviting-looking leather couch. “I promi
sed you I’d take you home and I always keep my promises.” He placed his hand over his heart. “Let’s talk for five minutes. Okay?”
The smooth, rich, deep voice of his was her undoing. Darn it. She wanted to collapse into a puddle of disappointment and confess how hard things were and how desperately she wanted a break. Instead, she raised her hand and stretched out her fingers. “Five minutes,” she said with determination.
“I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in any way tonight. It was not my intention to do so. I just wanted you there.”
Her eyes widened, she certainly wasn’t expecting a meaningful apology. She nibbled on her lip. “You paid a lot of money for me to sing for you and… ”
The coal black of his eyes darkened. “I know, but to be honest, I wanted you off that stage.”
She sighed as warmth washed over her. For so many years she’d been independent, resourceful, and able to look after herself but she couldn’t help revelling in his consideration of her. “I didn’t need rescuing.”
“I know, but the behaviour of those men disgusted me.”
A warmth spread across her chest, it was nice having someone look out for her. “But it was a lot of money, you could have paid a few hundred dollars, it’s not like there was any competition.” Not that she would confess to him that she was secretly flattered he’d paid more for her than what was paid for the swimwear model.
“That’s not my style.” He gave her a cheeky grin before pausing, a serious look crossing his eyes. “What did Camilla say? I saw your face blanch when she was talking to you. And then you left. Tell me.”
Drawing in a deep breath she said, “Thank you for your apology, it’s very nice and heartfelt and I do believe you didn’t mean to do anything untoward me. B-but, I was embarrassed after speaking with Camilla.” She pressed her lips together before telling him the truth. “Your family believe we’re dating and there’s some intention to marry—”
“What?” His shoulders stiffened and his eyes widened to the size of a small planet. “I said nothing.”
She froze as he uttered his lie. Camilla had spoken to her with such sincerity that she believed her. “But your sister—”
“Is mistaken.” His voice was low but direct; he wasn’t budging.
She had an uncharacteristic need to shake that obtuseness from him. “No, she’s not,” she snapped. “She believed there was something more going on between us.” Her hand waved in the air between the two of them. “Since I said nothing, how did she come to that conclusion?” Her eyes narrowed with accusation. “Because of you!” She answered her own question with a dramatic flourish.
His face whitened. “I never said anything about you.”
“Don’t lie. It demeans you and makes me question your apology.” She leaned toward him. “I haven’t seen you in one month and yet she thinks we’re dating. Go figure that one out.” Exhausted from the emotional ups and downs of the evening, her body sagged against the sofa. “And then you let me down.” She paused. “I was supposed to sing for your family. I’d practiced, got myself ready only for Camilla to tell me not to worry about it.”
“I’m sorry.” His head bowed apologetically.
His sincerity made breath catch in her throat. “I know you’re sorry. Do you know that tonight was my first public performance? After years of finding excuses I finally put myself out there, trusted you to make it happen and it didn’t.” She pushed away tiny tears of failure. “You’ve got bucket loads of confidence, but I don’t. It took so much to stand up and announce that I can sing, and, and…you’ve quashed that opportunity.” Her confession left her drained and depleted of spirit.
Pain tightened the skin along his jaw. “I’m deeply sorry to have let you down, Lily.” He took her hand in his. “Please let me make it up to you.”
She tugged her hand from his. “It doesn’t matter now,” she added dismissively. He didn’t need to know she’d reviewed and revised her career goals. She’d travel, have time for herself, finally, then she’d look at singing professionally. With a smug toss of her hair she simply added, “I’ve reassessed my priorities.” It sounded like something she would say in an interview. Her hand made a sweeping movement in the air, implying she was brushing his concerns away.
Rubbing his chin, he said, “I feel that there’s something missing.”
She glared at him, annoyance burning her skin. “What’s missing here is the reason your sister and mother think there is more going on between us.” She rolled her eyes for dramatic effect. “That’s what.”
He stilled, leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes momentarily, seemingly in deep thought. A minute passed before he opened his eyes and gave her his full attention. “I recently turned thirty-four. I’ve created a successful business of wine bars. But I want children, and since having them out of marriage is not an option, I’m going to marry.”
She gasped with surprise, unable to believe this hot bachelor was willing to settle down. She never would have guessed.
He continued, ignoring her stunned expression. “I’m Australian but born in Argentina. I love it here but” —he paused— “I want my children to grow up in a home where both English and Spanish are spoken. I want them to know and eat our family’s traditional dishes.” He placed his hand over his heart and said in a low voice, “My heritage is important to me.”
He crossed his legs, leaning back into the softness of the sofa, his gaze firmly remaining on her. “I recently mentioned something about this to my mother. Excitement doesn’t come close to her reaction. All she can talk about is her becoming an abuela, a grandmother. She’s on the phone nonstop contacting friends in both Australia and in Argentina to find me single women; daughters, cousins…” He waved his hand dismissively.
She gasped in astonishment. “Your mother’s matchmaking? You can’t find your own woman to love?” She didn’t know whether to laugh or be horrified. Was he such a mummy’s boy that he needed someone to find him a wife? “Your mother arranging your marriage seems so old-fashioned, so gaudy.”
His eyebrows snapped together. “You cheapen your argument with crudeness.”
Her cheeks warmed with shame. Having a differing opinion didn’t mean she had to show contempt for his. “Sorry, that wasn’t appropriate.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He gave her a frosty stare. “It’s not an arranged marriage. It’s an opportunity for me to meet someone who has the same values.” He viewed her through narrowed eyes. “We’ll meet, date, and if we like each other, we’ll consider marriage.” He stood and walked to stand by the large fireplace. “The women I want to meet are serious about marriage and starting a family. Dating someone with the same intention is logical and practical. You don’t waste time with someone who has no intention of settling down. What is wrong with that?”
A silence hung between them as she digested every word he’d said.
“But what about love?” she asked in a quiet but astounded voice. “Don’t you want to love the person you’re going to marry?”
His determination did not waver. “Love will come. A good solid marriage will lead to love.” In a few long strides he went to the retro-looking bar and poured himself a glass of red wine. Looking at her, he lifted an empty glass. “Can I offer one to you?”
“Yes, thanks.” After all the confessions and frustrations being poured out, she definitely needed something to drink.
He poured her a glass of red wine and placed it on the table in front of her before walking to the window. Silently brooding, he sipped his drink, looking out at the road traffic.
She took a moment to inhale the peppery spice of the wine and then took a small sip. Smooth. She drank a little more enjoying the rich taste. “I’m no wine expert but this is delicious. One of yours?”
He turned to look at her. “Of course,” he said with an arched brow and a smile. “Look” —he paused— “most of my family have been introduced to their respective partners and they’ve all had successful marriages. My parents, my
grandparents…they’re all happy.” He leaned against the wall, swirling the wine in his glass. “I want a good marriage. People fall out of love and lust all the time.” He swallowed another mouthful before continuing. “I’m taking a sensible approach to marriage. I’ve seen it work and that’s the way it will work for me.”
She continued to savour her wine and reflect on his confession. It went against everything she believed in yet she could see the sense and value in what he’d proposed. Unlike him, she’d always expected her marriage would be like her parents’, where she’d meet someone, fall in love, and have her own happily ever after. His forthright approach to marriage not only conflicted with hers but also was foreign to her thinking.
He came to sit near her. “One in three marriages in Australia break-down and I don’t want that, especially for my children.”
She watched him fiddle with her glass, looking at it, like he was remembering something. The skin along his cheekbones stretched his lips together into a harsh line. The memory was obviously not a happy one.
Taking a punt it had something to do with an ex-girlfriend she asked, “Someone hurt you?”
His mouth opened then he snapped it shut. He said nothing.
“You trusted her?” She used a soothing voice, hoping he’d share with her what he was thinking about.
He responded with a cool look. “I believe people come into your life for a reason. Hers was to reinforce my beliefs.”
The sharp tone of his voice made her gasp. There was a lot of angry emotion there. Although she didn’t gamble, she was willing to bet her car that the dark, bearish, fiery man in front of her had suppressed every ounce of bitterness somewhere deep.
A strained silence hung between them.
She broke it, unable to sit quietly anymore. “What you’re saying makes sense. It’s just not for me.” She leaned into the softness of the sofa. “I want romance, love, and all that mushy stuff.” She grinned. “I guess your mum won’t be nominating me as a candidate,” she added with a wink so he knew she was teasing him.