by Penny Jordan
‘I don’t think you’re being silly at all. You’re crying. You must be upset about something. What is it, Sabrina?’
‘Sweetheart, it’s nothing. We’ve all just had to adapt to a lot of change lately. Sometimes even adults can feel overwhelmed.’
‘I was worried when I heard you crying outside the door. Yesterday Uncle Javier was crying too.’
‘He was?’ Sabrina blinked in shock, her breath suspended. The thought of the strong, capable, sophisticated man who was now her husband reduced to real human tears was like being unexpectedly hit by one of those punch-bags in a gym.
‘At first he pretended he wasn’t, then he told me he was sad because my daddy had died and he missed him. They were good friends, you know. I told him it was OK to cry and miss my daddy because I do too. I miss him a lot.’
‘Oh, sweetheart.’ Her heart full, Sabrina pulled the child into her arms and kissed the top of her head. ‘I am so sorry you’re hurting so badly. It will get better, I promise. You won’t forget but you’ll be able to deal with it without feeling as if your whole world has come to an end.’
Seemingly satisfied with her reassurance, Angelina straightened and ventured a smile. ‘I am glad you’re here with me and my uncle. Perhaps you could make him feel better too?’
Out of the mouths of babes. Sabrina’s stomach clenched tight. ‘I’ll try.’ What she couldn’t explain to the charming eleven-year-old was that her relationship with her gorgeous uncle was testing every single faculty she possessed to the limit—particularly the most threatening one of all: her heart. She hardly knew how to make herself feel better, let alone Javier. Now she had gone and slept with him she’d put herself under totally unnecessary duress in an already highly charged situation. Somehow she had to get it together and regroup, re-establish some of those ground rules Javier was so unenthusiastic about. It wasn’t going to be easy, given her current vulnerability, but she would give it everything she had to restore her life to some semblance of normality.
‘Rosie is laying the table for tea. I said I would go and help her. Will you come with me?’
Angelina was holding out her hand and suddenly Sabrina felt mortally ashamed of being so obsessed with her own concerns when the sweet child in front of her was being so astoundingly brave, considering all that had happened to her. Checking beneath her eyes for tell-tale signs of wetness, Sabrina pushed herself to her feet, took Angelina’s hand in hers then left the room to go and give Rosie a hand in the kitchen. As soon as Ellie and the children went home and Angelina was otherwise occupied, she resolved to speak to Javier in private and tell him the conclusion she’d reached. Even if he didn’t like what she had to say, he would have to hear her out.
‘I need to talk to you.’
Standing in the doorway to Michael’s office, Sabrina stared at the back of Javier’s dark head, at the breadth of those fine, strong shoulders, at the lean, tanned forearms exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his perfectly white shirt as his fingers used the mouse to scroll up the screen in front of him.
Stretching his arms up high above his head, he swivelled in the chair and almost reduced her to a pile of smouldering embers on the carpet with the long, slow, lascivious look he had in his eyes.
She was only wearing jeans and an old blue and white shirt that she generally wore to do housework in, but she might as well have been standing there in the skimpiest of bikinis as far as the man in front of her was concerned.
‘What is it?’
It was a simple enough question, though, annoyingly, the answer wasn’t. With her heart knocking against her ribs, Sabrina took a deep breath and snaked her arms round her waist.
‘I just wanted to sa—’
‘Your sister was nice. I liked her.’
‘Most men usually do.’ She was thrown by the abrupt change of subject, and her response was out before she could check it. She flushed in embarrassment, knowing she sounded petty and jealous.
‘I did not mean her looks—though of course she is pretty.’ As he leaned back in his chair, his long legs stuck out in front of him just inches from where she stood, Javier’s expression was thoughtful. ‘I found her warm, approachable…capable. She is clearly a good mother.’
‘Yes, she is.’ Unfolding her arms, Sabrina impatiently pushed away a strand of hair that had drifted loose from her ponytail. ‘She can do no wrong in my parents’ eyes either.’
‘That hurts you?’
Now, why did she have to go and tell him that? Nothing seemed to be going to plan today, absolutely nothing. She was like some damned sailing boat, rudderless and cast adrift on an unknown sea.
‘I’ve got used to it. They never thought they’d have another child after me. Ellie is eight years my junior. When she came along I guess they were so happy at their unexpected gift that they simply doted on her. She was probably a much nicer child than me anyway. My mum always says I was too sulky and miserable.’
He laughed softly and all the hairs stood up on the back of her nape. ‘You? Sulky? I cannot believe it.’
‘Javier, I didn’t come to make small talk. There is a serious purpose to my wanting to talk to you.’ She wouldn’t let him distract her, she decided irritably. No matter how beguiling his smile or how wicked the look in those incredible black eyes.
‘I am listening.’ The light went out of his expression. He straightened in his chair and ran his hand through his hair.
‘About…about what happened the other night.’
‘In bed. Sí.’
Oh, boy. This was even harder than she’d suspected it might be. ‘I was totally reckless, not thinking straight. I got—I got swept away.’ Her blue eyes were so large and shimmering that Javier imagined he could dive right into them. Catching the drift of her scent on the air, he felt the muscles in his rock-hard stomach clench painfully. Ellie McDonald was pretty—but her sister, Sabrina, was beautiful.
‘It happens. Passion has a life of its own.’
‘You make it sound so simple.’
‘It is. Perhaps we are not so repressed in my country in the way that the English are? You seem to want to apologise for everything…even desire.’
His comment completely unravelled her carefully worked-out bid for understanding. Trying to regroup, she shifted to her opposite hip, then folded her arms again across her shirt.
‘Whatever. The point I’m trying to make is that it was a mistake. What we have here is a perfectly reasonable—though perhaps not commonplace—business arrangement. If we are both to come out of it intact we need to redefine our ground rules.’
‘If we were in a boardroom right now I would be most impressed.’ Getting restlessly to his feet, he pushed the black swivel chair right up to the desk then turned to face her. ‘You do not have to try so hard to be the perfect businesswoman, Sabrina. Neither do you have to hide who you really are from me.’
‘Hide?’ Frowning, Sabrina desperately tried to keep her mind on track but it wasn’t easy when she had six feet two inches of hard-muscled, devastatingly good-looking male staring back at her as if he wanted nothing better than to redefine ground rules of a completely different kind. The kind that had her pulse-rate rocketing off whatever scale it was measured on.
‘I’m not trying to hide anything from you. All I’m trying to do is tell you that what happened between us was a mistake and shouldn’t happen again. Please don’t pretend you don’t understand. I like you, Javier, and that’s all to the good, considering our arrangement, but that’s as far as it should go. I wanted to tell you that you should carry on as normal—go out with other women if you want to; I have no objection.’
‘And that should make me glad?’ His expression was forbidding. A muscle jumped in the side of his lean, bronzed cheek and Sabrina dropped her arms and twisted her hands together instead to still their sudden trembling.
‘I’m not interested in whether it makes you glad or not!’ He was crying, Angelina had said. Missing Michael. Probably feeling overwhelmed as well
that, as a thirty-year-old successful single entrepreneur with no commitments but to himself, he now had to take on the awesome responsibilities of a child and live a completely different kind of life from the one he’d been used to living. One that no doubt included fast cars, pretty girls and the high-living pursuits of the rich and glamorous. ‘All I know is that we need to get on with our own lives. I’m totally happy to help with Angelina, to be her friend if she wants me to—but, other than that, I can’t get personally involved with you, Javier. I just can’t.’
‘Sí.’
‘Is that all you’re going to say?’ She was stunned when he swept past her, the air all but crackling with the anger that was rolling off those broad shoulders of his.
Following him out into the kitchen, she watched him fill the kettle and set it to boil.
‘All right. Because you have done me this service I will accept your so-called “ground rules”. I will pretend that we did not join together as man and woman and I will keep my association with you strictly impersonal. Is that what you wanted to hear, Sabrina?’
Trailing her hand over the cold marble counter-top, she briefly nodded. ‘Yes, it would be easier.’
‘Easier for who—you? Because you are afraid of life, of really living. Because you feel safer hiding behind a social mask even in your private life. Yes…I can see how that would be easier for you.’
His stark words lashed at her soul like a whip and she actually felt herself flinch. How could he know so much about her when he had only known her for the shortest time?
‘I’m not afraid of life; of living. I’m only thinking of the best thing to do for everyone concerned.’
His rage was tangible. ‘Do not presume to speak for me as if you know what is best for me. You clearly do not!’
‘I’m sorry to make you so angry. How can we resolve anything if we can’t even talk to each other without getting in an argument?’
‘You think this is an argument?’ His laugh was short and harsh. ‘Clearly our cultures are very different.’
Her voice trembled. ‘I’m beginning to see that.’
Dropping his shoulders, he seemed to take pity on her. ‘Don’t worry, Sabrina, I will not make any more “inconvenient” demands on you. We will conduct this marriage like a business merger and that is all. Does that make you happier?’
‘Yes.’ Liar! her heart protested. ‘Thank you.’
‘As far as I can see, you have nothing to thank me for. Nada!’ His black eyes blazing, he swept out of the kitchen without giving her so much as a backward glance.
‘Well,’ Sucking in a deeply shaky breath, Sabrina fought hard to keep her composure. ‘That went well…’
Making coffee in the end room, Sabrina heard Javier get up, open the door and tell Jill that he was going out to get some lunch. When the door clanged shut behind him she closed the lid on the milk carton, opened the fridge and popped it inside without releasing her breath. When she did, it whooshed out of her as if she’d been holding it under water and had only just surfaced in time. Since their little ‘talk’ personal relations between them had been strained to say the least, but here in the office Sabrina could find no fault in Javier’s conduct. He was the consummate young professional, guiding Jill, Robbie and herself almost effortlessly round the new programme he had installed with ease, making the difficult seem simple, answering their questions with a display of understanding that belied his mere thirty years on the planet. They quickly learned that he was a natural leader as well as a natural innovator and they were all enthused by his suggestions for making the company more competitive in the marketplace while retaining the long-honed skills they had acquired themselves on the way.
But still Sabrina felt unaccountably hurt by the fact that he’d gone to lunch alone. When he rang half an hour later to inform Jill that he’d bumped into a friend and would be away longer than he’d thought, Sabrina’s mind jumped into overdrive.
Who was this ‘friend’? Was it someone Michael had known or was it perhaps one of the parents from Angelina’s school? Until he returned an hour and a half later she couldn’t concentrate on a damn thing and when he did return and looked at her with a cool, almost dismissive glance across the top of the computer monitor, her insides turned to ice. Determined to devote her complete attention to the young woman planning a backpacking holiday in India who was seated in front of her with her boyfriend, she conjured up her best, most professional smile and pretended it didn’t matter that Javier D’Alessandro clearly no longer regarded her as a friend.
On her way home later that evening, Javier having left before her, Sabrina found herself heading towards one of the big chain shops that specialised in modern, trendy clothing for youngsters. Estimating Angelina’s size, she picked out a couple of nice sweatshirts with the shop logo on and a pair of jeans and hoped the child would like them. Her purchases packed, she then headed towards a favourite bookstore that housed a welcoming coffee-shop and, after browsing for a good hour, finally settled at a chrome table to drink a café latte and flick through the books she’d bought. While she’d been active it had not been so difficult to push thoughts of Javier from her mind, but, once seated, her shopping bags at her feet and her books piled beside her on the table, she felt strangely hollow at the thought that he was giving her the cold shoulder—at home at least.
Sipping her latte, she wondered if she hadn’t made things even more difficult for herself by insisting they keep their relationship strictly professional. And why was he so angry with her anyway? The man could surely have any woman he desired in a heartbeat. Why he should want a work-oriented thirty-seven-year-old who hadn’t had a decent relationship in longer than she cared to remember, she couldn’t begin to fathom. Was it just because she happened to be sharing the same living space as him? After all, wasn’t it a given that some men found it easy to have sex without getting their emotions involved? The sooner the adoption went through the better, as far as Sabrina was concerned. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving the child, whom she’d really grown to care for, but ultimately she knew it was best in the long run. One day Javier would meet someone more suited to his age and status, and in all likelihood add to his little family. Once she’d paid him back the money he’d given her for the business—and she did intend to pay it back, every penny—then Sabrina would be nothing but a dim, distant memory.
Glancing down at the time on her slender gold watch, she knew she couldn’t put off going home any longer and braced herself for another difficult evening with the man she had so recently married.
CHAPTER EIGHT
CRADLING his glass of wine between his hands, Javier gazed thoughtfully at the beautiful woman sitting opposite him, her long legs drawn up on the sofa beneath her, her softly tousled black hair drifting across her elegant shoulders in her tight strapless dress, and wished she were miles away in Buenos Aires instead of here.
‘I cannot advise you about whether or not you should marry Carlo, Christina. Only you can judge that. If you are asking me whether I think the marriage will last then that is another thing entirely. He is already paying alimony to two previous wives who have six of his children between them, no?’
The sultry woman pouted and picked off an imaginary piece of lint from her leopard-print dress. ‘People can change, Javier. You must know that. Look what you have had to do. You have had to leave your luxurious apartment in Buenos Aires and all your friends and come and take up residence in this cold, rainy country and be a father to Angelina as well! Plus you have had to marry some plain, frigid Englishwoman so that you can stay here! I do not know how you can bear it all, querido—I really don’t!’
‘Plain’ and ‘frigid’ were not words that a man could ever use to describe Sabrina, Javier thought, his blood quickening—even if she had withdrawn every bit of her previous warmth towards him in order to maintain the supposedly required distance between them. As Christina was talking he kept glancing at the clock on the mantel, wondering where she had gon
e after work and what was keeping her. Angelina had been looking forward to her coming home this evening but now the child was tucked up in bed, fast asleep, clearly unconvinced by her uncle’s explanation that Sabrina would be home soon, he was sure. She had probably just decided to work late, he’d told his niece. Now he was all knotted up inside, wondering where she was or—more importantly—who she was with. OK, so he wasn’t looking to make this marriage of theirs a permanent fixture and God knew he was not in love or anything like that—but he did have certain feelings for this woman who had answered his prayer in his hour of need. And it was his duty as her husband, real or not, to make sure that she was safe.
‘Querido?’
Snapping out of his reverie, Javier took a sip of his now slightly warm white wine then with a grimace put it aside on the small occasional table beside him. ‘I’m sorry, Christina. I have a lot on my mind at the moment. Forgive me.’
‘I was so sorry to hear about poor Michael. I only met him a few times but I always thought he was a nice man. It must have been a blow, sí?’
It took an almighty effort to force away the heavy black cloak that he sensed settling around his shoulders. Michael’s death had been a terrible blow—Christina had guessed right—and Javier missed the fact that he could no longer talk things over with his brother-in-law the way he used to. Instead, whenever his thoughts turned to Michael or Dorothea, there was such an ache inside him that it almost left him breathless. That was why he had vowed never to get too close to anyone he cared about again. Angelina, of course, being the exception.
‘I am living in his house.’ He shrugged, dark eyes absorbing the family photographs on the mantelpiece, the baby grand piano by the window that Michael had loved to play whenever he got the chance, the bookcases stacked with biographies and medical books—Michael’s favourite reading. ‘All around me are reminders of him and Dorothea. They were happy here. Now they are both gone. It is hard to be here, I will not deny it, but I have to be strong for Angelina. When the adoption papers come through I will be her father and we will both have a new life.’