by Jennie Lucas
The old man’s reply was a harsh rasp from the bowels of his wheelchair. “You will stay in Spain. As my heir.”
Santiago paced a step in the oversized salon, which was filled with Renaissance art and leather-bound books that he’d wager no one had touched in years, except perhaps by the maids dusting them. The two men were alone.
When he’d come downstairs to see his father, the man had wheeled over to the liquor cabinet, poured him a drink, and then spoken his demand without preamble.
Once he would have killed to hear his father say those words. But now...
Santiago took a gulp of Scotch, then said coldly, “You’ve ignored me for my whole life. Why would I want to be your heir?”
“It is your birthright.”
“It wasn’t my birthright for the last thirty-five years.”
“Everything changed with the death of my son.” Suddenly, the old man sounded weary. He ran a hand over his wispy head. “I am dying, Santiago. You are all that is left of the Zoyas now. If you do not take over this family, there will never be another Duque de Sangovia.”
Santiago’s jaw tightened. “Why should I care? You abandoned my mother. You abandoned me before I was born. What is the dukedom to me? I have my own company. My own empire. My life is not in Spain.”
“It could be.”
“I came to Otilio’s funeral to show my respect, nothing more. And because I was curious to meet the man who never wanted to recognize me as his son.”
The elderly Duke said slyly, “And to see Nadia?”
That brought Santiago up short.
The man continued, “She has been a good daughter-in-law to me. She is beautiful, elegant, powerful, famous. The perfect consort.” He paused. “Except for her inability to conceive the Zoya heir, but as for that, perhaps it is not too late.”
Santiago’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“I know you and Nadia have a history. Perhaps this is fate. She could still bear the Zoya heir. To you.”
Santiago stared down at him, unable to believe what he was hearing. “Have you lost your mind, old man? You’ve met my fiancée. Belle is upstairs right now. Our baby is due in weeks—”
“You must give that woman up,” the Duque de Sangovia said harshly. “She will never be accepted, this country girl, not in Madrid nor in the elite circles of international aristocracy where you belong. It would be cruel to force her into a place where she would always be awkward, rejected, based on her unfortunate background.”
“Oh, so you’re just looking out for her—is that it?” Santiago said acidly. “You forget I was raised a bastard, without money or formal education—”
“You are different. You are my son, with Zoya blood. You have single-handedly built a business empire that must inspire respect.”
In spite of himself, Santiago felt a strange zing of pride at hearing his father speak those words. Then he caught himself. “So you expect me to abandon her,” he ground out, “as you did my mother?”
“Sí, and for the same reasons,” the duke said calmly. “I could not divorce my wife, the duchess, to run off with a maid. I would have lost all the fortune that came with her, and damaged my family honor and my name.”
“Seducing an eighteen-year-old maid and then abandoning your own son is what you call honorable?”
“Sometimes difficult choices must be made. This girl, this Belle, has nothing. She is nothing. Toy with her if you must, even have a child with her, but do not marry her. If you wish to be my heir, you must marry as befits the future Duke of Sangovia.”
“I will marry as I choose, and you and Sangovia and Nadia can all go to hell.”
“Do not marry this American girl.” The old man’s rheumy eyes turned hard. “Do you really think she could ever be happy here, in this world? It would be cruel to her. And the child. Let her go.”
Santiago opened his mouth to argue. Then he snapped it shut, thinking of the sad, haunted look in Belle’s eyes ever since they’d arrived in Madrid.
“Excuse me, Your Excellency.” A male nurse appeared at the door. “It is time for your medicine.”
The duke nodded grimly. He started to push his wheelchair out of the room, but as he passed Santiago, the duke gripped his arm with a shaking hand.
“You have the power to choose, mi hijo. Let the girl go. Accept your birthright as my son. Become my heir, and the future duke, to continue a legacy that has endured for hundreds of years. The dukedom, combined with your vast business empire, plus a marriage to Nadia, would make you one of the most powerful men in the entire world.” His beady eyes burned brightly in the shadowy salon. “Think about it.”
Santiago was left alone in the salon, with nothing but the glass of Scotch and his own bleak thoughts for company.
His father was offering him everything he’d ever dreamed of as a boy.
A vindication of his worth.
Everything he’d hungered for as a young man.
But that wasn’t the only reason he was suddenly tempted. He clawed back his hair.
For the last few months, he’d found himself growing closer to Belle in a way that he’d enjoyed at first, but now terrified him. As their marriage approached, he’d become increasingly on edge. In bed with her, he’d experienced physical joy beyond anything he’d ever imagined. But he’d started to have feelings for her, beyond partnership or even friendship. Against his will, Belle had become too important to him. Her beauty. Her kindness. Her wit. The deep luminosity of her brown eyes.
He found himself drawn to her. Needing her.
Like today. Even after he’d made the decision to send her back to New York so he wouldn’t worry about her going into labor so far from home, all she’d had to do was raise her poignant gaze to his and ask to stay, and he’d immediately given in. Because he couldn’t bear to see her unhappy, not even for a moment.
He didn’t like it.
Santiago didn’t want to need anyone. He didn’t want to be dependent on their happiness for his own peace of mind. Because if you depended on someone—if you cared for them—it left you weak and vulnerable, to be crushed at will by their inevitable betrayal. He’d learned that from childhood. From Nadia.
I know you and Nadia have a history. Perhaps this is fate. She could still bear the Zoya heir. To you.
The thought repelled him. Nadia, for all her angelic beauty, had the soul of a snake. A mercenary, gold-digging snake. The thought of touching her disgusted him.
But at least Nadia would never again tempt him into risking his heart. Not like Belle.
If he was honest with himself, when he’d gotten the call about his brother’s death, and realized it gave him the perfect excuse to cancel the wedding—the same wedding he himself had insisted on, demanded, blackmailed Belle into—part of him had been relieved.
Something inside him was afraid of marrying her now. He, who’d never been afraid of anything, was afraid of what would happen if he spoke those vows to Belle, the one woman on earth who held power over him.
Wearily, Santiago left the salon and went up the sweeping stairs toward the second floor. He stopped in front of his own door, suddenly remembering how he’d promised Belle he’d come up and kiss her good night.
He pictured her beautiful face. Her wide, haunting brown eyes, fringed with black lashes. Her full ruby-red lips. Her softness. Her sweetness.
She’d hated him when they’d first met, with good cause. Santiago had pushed people away for most of his life. It wasn’t just a game to him; it was necessary for survival. But he’d known from the night he first seduced Belle that she, idealistic and romantic and good-hearted as she was, could be dangerous to his peace of mind. So he’d pushed her away.
That had all changed when he’d found out she was pregnant. He’d forced her into an engagement in Texas. She’d h
ated him for that.
But Belle didn’t hate him anymore. Something had changed in her during their time living in New York. She’d been his hostess. She’d redecorated his home. She’d even traveled with him to Spain when, by rights, she should have slapped his face for canceling their wedding to attend the funeral of a virtual stranger half a world away.
Santiago wanted her. So much. Even picturing Belle now, stretched out on a bed somewhere upstairs, he yearned to see her, hold her, touch her. He’d meant to ask the housekeeper for directions to her bedroom, which he assumed to be even larger and more comfortable than his own, as any pregnant woman deserved. But now...
Hesitating at his own bedroom door, he looked down the dark hallway toward the stairs. His body yearned for the electricity and comfort of her touch. He longed to feel her sweet, hot, lush body naked against his own.
But the cost to his soul was suddenly too high.
Setting his jaw, he turned back to his own bedroom, going inside, closing the door firmly behind him.
He would sleep alone.
* * *
Belle woke up alone in the shabby little attic room of the castle, and sat up in a rush. He’d never come up to kiss her last night.
Trying to ignore the hurt, she stretched her muscles, aching from the lumpy mattress. She took a quick, awkward shower in the tiny beat-up bathroom with peeling linoleum, then freshened up, putting on a new dress that, with her full pregnancy, made her look as lumpy as that bed.
Going downstairs, she went to Santiago’s bedroom, only to discover it was empty. So were the other bedrooms in the wing. She wandered downstairs, feeling lost, until she found an English-speaking maid who directed her to the breakfast room.
“You should hurry, miss. I’m afraid you’re late,” she said anxiously.
Late? How could she be late? No one had told Belle anything about breakfast being at any certain time.
She found the formal breakfast room, with its long elegant table, with food spread out on a side table and big arrangements of flowers that made her want to sneeze. When she arrived, Santiago set down his newspaper, his breakfast plate already empty. His dark eyes were cool as, rising from the table, he came forward.
“I missed you last night,” she said, staring up at him.
“Sorry. I was busy.” He barely looked at her, and kissed her on the cheek as if she were a stranger.
“Did you enjoy sleeping in, Miss Langtry?” cooed Nadia, also rising from the table, looking sexy and chic in a perfectly cut black skirt suit, her light blond hair pulled back into a chignon, a jeweled brooch on her lapel.
“Sleeping in?” Belle stammered.
“We expected you an hour ago.”
The duke muttered something darkly in Spanish, but didn’t bother to look in Belle’s direction, as his servant pushed his wheelchair from the room.
Belle bit her lip as she looked between Santiago and Nadia. “You expected me at a certain time?”
“Breakfast begins strictly at eight,” Nadia said sweetly. “As the housekeeper mentioned in your wake-up call this morning.”
“I didn’t get any—”
“Don’t worry.” The blonde swept her arm in a generous gesture. “You are a guest, so of course you are free to ignore the rules of our household, no matter how much trouble it might cause everyone. The food has grown cold, so I’ve instructed the servants to prepare you a fresh breakfast, in addition to their other duties.”
“I didn’t mean...” Belle stopped when Santiago kissed her forehead. He was dressed in a dark suit. “Are you going somewhere?”
“The lawyer’s office,” he said. “And to Madrid, to discuss the possibility of donating art to the museum and creating a wing in my brother’s name.”
“Otilio was an art lover,” Nadia purred. Her stiletto heels clicked against the marble floor as she looked up at Santiago with a smile. “Shall we go?”
Oh, hell to the no. Belle looked between them. “I’ll come with you.”
“That’s not necessary,” Santiago said.
“But I want to.”
“It will be very boring for you.”
“Please,” she implored, holding out her hand.
With visible reluctance, he took it. “As you wish.”
She exhaled.
“It’s really unnecessary, Miss Langtry,” Nadia said. She looked seriously annoyed.
Belle was glad. The other woman might be in charge in this castle, arranging to exile her to the attic room and sabotaging her in front of Santiago and the household, but Belle wouldn’t give up Santiago without a fight.
But, it seemed, neither would Nadia. Later that morning, as the duke and Santiago were in the adjoining office, speaking to the lawyers, the two women sat together in the posh waiting room.
Bright sunlight was pouring through the windows, and cushy chairs lined the walls. The sound of secretaries typing on keyboards came from the next room. Sitting across from Nadia, Belle felt nervous and awkward and tried to hide it by reading a magazine. In Spanish. Upside down.
“How charming,” Nadia said suddenly.
Sheepishly, Belle turned around her magazine. But the other woman wasn’t looking at her reading material. Reaching out, she touched the diamond on Belle’s finger.
“Oh, the ring?” Belle smiled. “Yes, I love it. His proposal was very romantic, too.” Maybe it was stretching the truth to call the way he’d blackmailed her into marriage in Texas romantic, but she hated the smirk on the movie star’s face.
“Was it?” Nadia smiled back. “I mean, I know it’s very au courant to recycle these days, but this is taking it a bit far, don’t you think?”
“What do you mean?” Belle said stiffly. She guessed from the context that au courant meant trendy, though for all she knew it could have been a type of jam.
“Oh, didn’t you know?” The blonde’s smile widened. “That’s the same ring Santiago once used to propose to me.”
Belle’s heart fell to the wooden parquet floor.
“No,” she stammered. “You’re mistaken. He picked it out just for me.”
“Oh, didn’t he tell you? That naughty creature.” Nadia’s smile turned wicked. “He tried to give it to me five years ago. Regrettably, he’d waited too long and I’d already been spoken for. But I know my diamonds.”
Belle wrapped her hand around the ring, feeling completely betrayed. But she couldn’t show it, couldn’t let the other woman see how her barb had found its target. She tried to shrug. “Even if it’s the same ring, we have a totally different situation. I never betrayed him.”
“No, you just got pregnant.”
Belle’s eyes narrowed. “While you made him chase you all those years, then married his brother.”
Nadia looked at her with a taunting smile on her red lips. “I’m not married to him anymore. Now I am free.”
Belle stiffened, trying to hide her growing fear. “You think you can take him from me.”
Nadia tilted her head, considering. “You’re not so stupid after all.”
Belle’s cheeks flushed. “You don’t deserve to be Santiago’s wife.”
“I’m more deserving than you.”
“I love him.”
“That I can easily believe.” The movie star’s famous violet eyes cut through her. “But does he love you?”
The burn on Belle’s cheeks intensified.
Because that was the heart of it. Santiago didn’t love her. He never had. He never would.
That was the truth she’d been fighting to deny, to hide, even from herself. Even though he’d once told her to her face that he would never love her, she’d dreamed he might change.
She mumbled, “He proposed to me...”
“He proposed to me first. With that exact ring.�
� Nadia gave her a hard smile. “Curious, don’t you think, that he kept it all these years?”
Belle tried to fight the emotions swirling inside her beneath the other woman’s hard gaze. “He was the one who demanded marriage when he found out I was pregnant...”
“And he obviously felt strongly about it, since he couldn’t even be bothered to get you your own ring.” Nadia leaned forward in her chair, smiling pleasantly. “The ring was mine. As his love was mine. And both will be again.”
Belle couldn’t breathe. Her heart was pounding frantically. “You’re wrong...he won’t...”
“No?” Grabbing her arm, Nadia said, “I am Santiago’s equal as you never were. We are meant to be together.”
Each word hurt more than the last. “You gave him up,” Belle choked out, struggling to pull her arm away.
“I had to be ruthless to get what I wanted. Santiago of all people will understand this, and respect it.” Her red lips lifted in a smile. “He’s loved me since we were teenagers. He’s ached for me. Hungered for me. We belong together. My choice to marry his brother only made Santiago want me more.” She looked Belle over contemptuously. “Do you really think he would ever choose you, now I’m free?”
No, she didn’t. That was what hurt the most.
“There are two ways to do this,” Nadia said sweetly. “Either give Santiago up gracefully. Or watch helplessly as I take him from you.”
“You can’t...”
“If you love him like you say you do, at least leave him thinking of you with some respect.”
Pain ripped through Belle. She felt her baby kick inside her as if her daughter was angry, too. She put her hands over her belly. “He’s the father of my child.”
“After we are wed, I will give him another baby. He will forget yours.” Nadia smiled. “Santiago is an honorable man. He will always provide for you and your child, as a matter of duty. You will never have to work again. Consider yourself lucky. Leave Spain. Go seek the love that Santiago will never give you.”
Belle swallowed, her heart pounding.
As the door to the lawyer’s office opened and the men came out, Nadia whispered, “End it quickly, and it will be better for everyone. Especially you.”