With a savage movement he moved into the room and let the door shut behind him. It did nothing so crass as to slam—she’d made sure that everything in the motel was as controlled and repressed as he was.
Which was why she had to leave.
She could never fit into this world. She didn’t want to.
She pointed. ‘Note the opposing portraits.’
She’d encased Aggie and Lorenzo’s portraits in glass cases and they now faced each other from opposite walls.
Xavier’s eyes flashed dark fire. ‘No doubt you mean to explain the stripes you’ve had painted on them?’
‘They’re prison bars, of course. But—just so you know—it’s my own handiwork.’ She didn’t want anyone else blamed for it. ‘The bars aren’t painted on the portraits themselves, just on the glass. It appears that I’m not destructive enough to actually deface a portrait.’
‘And your point is...?’
He looked as if he might actually have ice running through his veins, and she suddenly felt exhausted. ‘Oh, I have more than one point to make, but now that we come to it I find I’ve lost my appetite for it.’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I suppose it’s because I know in my heart that it’s only worthwhile making a point if it’s a catalyst for change. And I have no such hope here.’
She huffed out a breath.
‘Still, for what it’s worth, you have to realise by now that the motel is a reflection of you and your world, how you choose to live—’
‘How you view my world,’ he shot at her. ‘Your interpretation.’
That snapped some fire back into her blood. ‘You live your life along these same sterile lines, and I have no intention of wasting my warmth and my hospitality where they’re not valued!’
He paled at her words.
‘You wanted Villa Lorenzo to be a homage to your grandfather.’ She pointed at Lorenzo’s portrait. ‘He was a man who ran away rather than risking all for love. What did that earn him? From what I can tell, nothing but regrets. I might’ve been the one to draw bars on the glass, but he’s the one who put himself behind them. He’s the one who sentenced himself to living a half-life.’
Xavier clenched his hands so hard he started to shake. ‘You didn’t know him.’
‘And you living like this...in all your isolated glory! This is how you want to honour his memory? Can’t you see what a mockery you’re making of the man who went adventuring with you in the old town, who played with you and loved you? Do you think he’d be happy at this life you’ve carved out for yourself? Do you think he’d be happy to see you running away from love, just like he did?’
‘Don’t you—’
‘Is that the legacy you want to leave for Luis?’ The words left her at a bellow.
Xavier’s face contorted and he stabbed a finger at her. ‘You’re—’
‘Fired?’
They stared at each other, breathing hard.
‘You’ll find my letter of resignation on your desk there.’ She pointed.
And then she turned to the portrait opposite Lorenzo’s and did what she could to get her breathing back under control.
‘I don’t know why Aggie didn’t go after him, but I have no intention of making the same mistake she did.’
She strode over to Xavier, seized him by his pristine silk tie and slammed her lips to his. She didn’t kiss him like a good girl. She didn’t kiss him like a wild woman. But she did kiss him with her whole heart.
She released him and took a step back before his arms could slip about her waist. ‘I love you, Xavier. If you ever find your courage, look me up.’
She left then, and didn’t look back.
CHAPTER TWELVE
XAVIER WASN’T SURE how long he stood there after Wynne had gone, but once the roaring in his ears and the rush of his blood had died down he grew aware once again of the oppressive silence, the utter sterility of the room. His heart kicked in savage protest as he turned on the spot.
His life looked nothing like this! He had colour in his life—he had love and...and happiness. He had success. And he had Luis.
His mouth dried. When was the last time you had fun?
He had fun playing with Luis—teaching him to kick a ball, taking him to the beach, reading him a bedtime story.
When was the last time you had fun that didn’t depend on Luis?
He raked both hands back through his hair. The week he and Wynne had been lovers. He wasn’t referring to the lovemaking—as spectacular as it had been. While it was hard to banish the heat of her kisses from his mind, it was her laughter he found himself missing the most.
She said that she loved you.
He pushed that thought from his mind. The last time he’d had fun before Wynne...?
He couldn’t remember.
And he couldn’t tolerate this room another moment!
He slammed out of it and made his way down to the foyer. Tina glanced up at him, but she didn’t speak.
‘Wynne?’ he croaked.
She swallowed. ‘Gone.’
Already the motel felt empty without her, and Tina looked ready to cry. He had no comfort to offer her. ‘The motel, the changes...they’re awful.’
She moistened her lips. ‘I don’t know what you did to her, Xavier. I’ve never seen her like that before. But...’ She glanced around. ‘Did you deserve this?’
She told you she loved you!
His shoulders suddenly sagged. ‘Yes.’
‘Well, then—’ she folded her arms ‘—how do you propose to make things right again?’
He couldn’t make things right for Wynne. For the sake of his heart he had to stay away from her. He had to—
Coward.
He braced his arms against the counter. She’d told him she loved him—fearlessly—and yet there’d been no expectation in her face that he’d return the sentiment. There had been pain there, yes, but not defeat.
How could that be? Why wasn’t she afraid of being vanquished and diminished in the same way Lorenzo had been afraid? The way Xavier himself was afraid?
Do not make the same mistakes I made.
‘Xavier?’
He snapped to attention at the worry in Tina’s voice. ‘I cannot stay in the Lorenzo Suite. Have you seen it?’
She shook her head.
‘Luis and I will stay in the...what did she rename the Westminster Suite?’
‘The Family Suite.’
She said it with a curl of her lip as she handed him the key. He didn’t blame her. The Family Suite sounded utterly devoid of personality.
‘How have the regular guests taken the changes?’
‘They’ve been too busy keeping their heads down below the parapet.’
Por Dios! Had he turned the welcoming Wynne into a raging she-devil?
‘And the staff?’ Joder! ‘Please tell me that Libby and April and...and everyone else are still working here?’
‘Yes, but they’re not adapting so well to this new regime of efficiency over hospitality. They’ll get there, but please be patient with them. They—’
‘No!’ Dios. Tina thought this was what he wanted? ‘We go back to the old way of doing things! Hospitality first. There must be carnations for Ms What’s-her-Name’s room. And we need to find the Captain, and...and...and all of this dreary grey—it must go!’
The tension in Tina’s shoulders melted. ‘Thank you, God!’
He didn’t know if it was a prayer or an utterance of thanksgiving. ‘Can you make an appointment for the builders to come and see me as soon as it can be arranged?’
‘I...uh...already took the liberty of arranging that. They’ll be here at nine o’clock in the morning.’
‘Perfect.’ He went to turn away, but at the last moment sw
ung back. ‘She is not coming back, is she?’
Tina’s eyes welled. ‘No.’
It felt as if the ground beneath his feet was dropping away. She had said that she loved him and he had said nothing. He had done nothing.
Luis came racing into the foyer to fling his arms around Xavier’s waist. ‘I made a six!’ With a whoop he raced back out again.
Without Wynne’s insight and her generosity—her willingness to involve herself in the lives of others—it would have taken him far longer to bridge the gulf that had opened between him and his son. It occurred to him then that on his own he might never have managed it.
On his own...
He lurched towards the stairs. He wasn’t on his own any more. Wynne had welcomed him into her eccentric makeshift family, and even now they surrounded him, supported him. But where was she?
She’d gone. She’d given him everything and then she’d left. He’d driven her out.
He halted on the stairs, his every muscle freezing. ‘Dios!’ His hand clenched around the cold stainless steel railing. He was such a fool. She’d offered him her heart—something more precious than all his wealth—and he’d spurned her because...because he was afraid of being made a fool of, afraid of being shackled into a cold and loveless marriage?
Do not make the same mistakes I made.
Lorenzo hadn’t meant for Xavier to run away from love. He’d meant that Xavier should embrace it! His mouth dried as he realised the full extent of his foolishness.
He was afraid of shadows! Wynne didn’t possess a cold bone in her body. Her love had never come with conditions—unlike his grandmother, unlike Camilla.
He swung back to Tina. ‘I know how to make it right!’
She raised her hands heavenwards. ‘Hallelujah!’
He just had to give back all he had taken from her.
‘She still might not forgive me.’ But it was a risk he had to take.
It was time to dispense with the selfishness of his solitude and do what Wynne did—fight to make the world a better place. He owed it to Wynne. He owed it to Luis. He owed it to Lorenzo.
Most of all, he owed it to himself.
* * *
The builders started work immediately. Xavier paid top dollar to hire more labourers. They thought he was crazy, but he didn’t care. All he wanted to do was put things right.
He wanted to win Wynne’s heart too. But that decision would ultimately rest with her. In the meantime he threw himself into overseeing the renovations and helping to run the motel.
‘Xavier!’
He pulled up short when Mrs Montgomery wheeled her suitcase out of her room.
He held the door open for her. ‘Are you leaving us today?’
‘I’m afraid so, but before I go I wanted to thank you. I followed your advice to the letter and the general manager has agreed to give me a raise.’
‘That is most excellent news!’ He took her suitcase and walked her to the foyer. ‘I’m glad the man saw sense. Now I will leave you in Tina’s capable hands while I take your case to your car...and we will see you in a fortnight’s time, yes?’
* * *
Xavier pulled to a halt. He could hear crying.
The housekeeping trolley stood pressed against the wall nearby. He glanced through the open door of the nearest room to find Libby sitting on the stripped bed, the sheets bundled up in her arms and her face pressed into them as her shoulders shook.
He glanced up and down the corridor, but April was nowhere in sight. He pressed a fist to his mouth and stared at the sobbing girl. He couldn’t just leave her. Wynne wouldn’t leave her.
Gingerly he entered and sat on the bed to pat the sobbing girl’s back. ‘Why are you crying, Libby? Do you feel sick?’
She shook her head. ‘I miss Miss Wynne.’ She started to sob harder. ‘She was my friend.’
Regardless of the changes he was in the process of overseeing—and they were a definite improvement, reflected in an increase in both guest satisfaction and staff morale—the place wasn’t the same without Wynne. An ache opened up inside him. She’d offered him everything. He couldn’t believe that he hadn’t had the wit to seize it in both hands and hold it close. What an idiot!
‘I miss her too.’
Libby lifted her head. ‘You do?’
More than anyone could possibly know.
‘Maybe we can talk her into visiting some time soon—maybe for afternoon tea. That’d be nice, wouldn’t it?’
She nodded.
A movement in the doorway alerted him to April’s presence.
‘Are you ladies busy this evening? We could have a staff pizza and pavlova night.’ Pavlova had become Luis’s newest favourite thing. ‘Everyone has been working so hard it’d be nice to relax for a bit, yes?’
Both women agreed with flattering enthusiasm.
‘April, can you spare Libby for the next half an hour?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Xavier,’ he corrected gently, for what must have been the thirtieth time in the past week. ‘Libby, would you like to go downstairs and help Luis with his jigsaw puzzle? He would welcome the company.’
With a big grin she raced off.
‘Don’t run!’ both he and April hollered after her.
The older woman turned to him. ‘You’re good with her.’
‘She is missing Wynne. It is only to be expected.’
Shrewd eyes met his. ‘Seems we’re all missing her, Xavier.’
Maybe he wasn’t doing as good a job at hiding his heart as he’d thought.
He strode from the room, hoping he was doing enough to win Wynne’s heart. If he wasn’t...
A stone lodged in his chest. If he wasn’t he had no one to blame but himself. He squared his shoulders. It would tear at his soul—he couldn’t deny it—but he’d refuse to let it force him back into the shell of isolation that had almost consumed him. He’d learned his lesson. Life was for living, and that was exactly what he meant to do—live.
* * *
Wynne had to leave the Gold Coast following her resignation—just for a week. She couldn’t stand staying in her little cottage knowing that Xavier was so close...and that despite laying her heart on the line it had had such little impact on him.
She tossed her head. She didn’t regret saying what she had. She could only surmise what had happened between Aggie and Lorenzo all those years ago but, while they’d obviously loved each other, they’d not had their happy-ever-after. Wynne had no intention of repeating whatever mistakes they might have made. She refused to be a victim of the pride and fear she suspected had held them back. She didn’t want to die wondering, What if I’d spoken up...?
She snorted. ‘Well, you don’t have to worry about that any more.’ She could now die safe in the knowledge that it hadn’t made a jot of difference. She lifted her arms and let them drop, her lips twisting. ‘Oh, and that knowledge is such a comfort!’
The first thing she did when she returned to Surfer’s Paradise was to visit Aggie—even before she returned home. It had killed her to leave her grandmother for the week, but she’d phoned every day. Aggie had no idea who Wynne was, but she happily accepted a bar of chocolate and played a cheerful hand of Old Maid with her.
Old Maid seemed particularly appropriate. ‘Like grandmother like granddaughter.’
‘What was that, dear?’
‘Nothing, Nanna, just muttering to myself.’
Not long after she took her leave and finally returned home. She did a double take at all the activity next door.
‘Don’t look!’ she ordered herself. It was no concern of hers.
Though how could she not look? It appeared that Xavier had hired every tradesman in the Gold Coast to come and work on Villa Lorenzo.
What did you expect? He would never settle for that ghastly décor she’d thrust on him. It was hardly surprising that he’d set to work on it ASAP.
She strode through her front door and shut it tight, her heart hammering in her chest. What was surprising was that Xavier was still here. He should have left for Spain days ago.
How do you know he’s there? You didn’t see him.
She didn’t need to see him. Only Xavier could create such a sense of purpose in those around him. She wanted to ring Tina for the gossip, but she forced herself not to. Her best course of action was to try and forget Xavier completely.
Ha! Good luck with that.
* * *
Two days later Wynne received a gilded invitation to attend the grand opening of the new motel that had once been called Aggie’s Retreat, and then briefly named Villa Lorenzo. Briefly? Had Xavier decided to call it something else instead? The date for the grand opening was in a fortnight’s time.
Come and see the unveiling of the motel’s new name.
With a snort, she tossed the envelope into the bin. ‘He should call it the Heartbreak Hotel.’
Unable to dwell on that thought with any equanimity, she went to search her cupboards for chocolate.
* * *
‘What do you mean, you’re not coming?’
‘Look, Tina, it’s not a difficult concept to grasp.’
Wynne rested the phone against her shoulder as she poured hot water into a mug and jiggled a teabag in it. She’d given up coffee. The high levels of caffeine she’d been consuming recently were making it impossible for her to sleep at night.
‘But we all so want you to come!’
‘Of course you do—you’re my friends and you care about me. And I know you’re worried about me, but I’m fine. I promise.’
‘Then come to the opening and prove it.’
‘Is he going to be there?’
‘Xavier? Yes, of course.’
‘Then, no.’
‘Come for the rest of us.’
She bit her lip and swallowed. ‘This is going to sound harsh, so I apologise in advance, but I’m tired of putting everyone else’s needs and wants before my own. I don’t want to see him. I don’t want to be there. I won’t be coming. Why don’t we catch up for dinner one night next week?’
The Spanish Tycoon's Takeover Page 17