“What is wrong?”
“She doesn’t care for me,” she said and glanced up at Andrés through her lashes.
His mouth twitched. “Señora Martinez? What makes you think that?”
“Because I’m with you,” Chloe said with a stiff shrug. “But then, she never liked me, even before…”
“Before I brought you to my bed?” he murmured gently, and stepped close to her, catching her chin in his hands. “You have nothing to worry about. I am not interested in Señora Martinez in any manner outside of her running my hotel.”
She struggled to stay immune to his touch. “But I saw a picture of you both and it looked—”
“Where did you see it, Chloe? A tabloid?” He leaned down and brushed a soft kiss across her lips. “They will print anything to make money. Señora Martinez and I often attend the same events. You have nothing to be jealous of. You are all I want.” He kissed her again, a tender gesture that had her knees weakening.
Me, or the baby? Chloe couldn’t help but wonder, but she soon lost the ability to think, just melted into his kiss.
When the elevator came to a stop, they left the lift and entered the penthouse a moment later. Chloe crossed through the doorway but faltered as the memories slammed through her full force.
The months disappeared, and she had a glimpse of who she’d been. A naïve girl who was far too romantic and idealistic…a girl who’d almost given her heart to a man she’d thought was just a guest at the hotel.
“You think too much, cariño.” Andrés’ arm slipped around her waist and a moment later his lips brushed the back of her neck. “But fortunately I have a solution.”
A tremble ran through her body when he slid his hand up her ribcage to cup her breast, his lips caressing the curve of her ear.
Only one thing was different this time, she thought as Andrés swept her boldly up into his strong arms and carried her to the bedroom. She was still idealistic and naïve, heaven help her. But now she wasn’t half in love with Andrés—she was completely in love.
Her eyes closed and she clung to him, trying to not think about the future and that, despite her best efforts, she’d given her heart to a man who it seemed was afraid to receive it.
Chapter 9
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me. Once again, I must say I’m impressed.” Andrés set down the file he’d been holding and tapped his forefinger against it.
Estella Martinez smiled, her red painted lips curving with satisfaction. “I assumed you would be, Señor.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed one leg over another.
“Well, whatever it is that you’re doing, please continue.” Andrés glanced at his watch, his thoughts turning to Chloe, which had become a habit during the past hour.
He’d left her in the suite with the promise to return once he finished with the meeting. His lips quirked when he thought of the jealousy she hadn’t quite managed to hide.
He pushed back from the desk and flashed Estella Martinez a brief smile. “I think that should conclude our business for today, Señora. Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“Señor Montero, if I might be so bold.” Estella moved to intercept him. “I would like to discuss Señorita Wilkinson with you.”
“Indeed?” Andrés repeated, his gaze cooling with suspicion.
“Sí.” She folded her arms across her breasts and sighed. “I am compelled to warn you about her, Señor.”
“Warn me?” He tilted his head, his smile mocking, even as the muscles in his body coiled with tension.
Estella nodded and moved past him to look out the window, obviously confident that she held his attention now. “Señorita Wilkinson developed a bit of a reputation while she worked here.”
“And what kind of reputation would that be?”
“Chloe was quite friendly with the guests, as well as the male employees.” She paused, and then turned to face him once more. “A bit too friendly, it appears. I warned her about the flirtations, but she never seemed to heed my admonitions, which is why I terminated her position.”
Andrés kept quiet, showing no reaction, though anger curled hot in his belly. “Señora, I’m not quite certain of your intentions in telling me these allegations, but I will warn you to tread carefully. You’re speaking about the woman who carries my child.”
Estella’s body went rigid and her face turned red; she made a visible effort to compose herself once more. This time when she approached, her expression was subservient and her fingers woven together in front of her. “Please forgive me, Señor Montero. You are right about me being too forward. I simply thought it was best that you know.”
The anger inside Andrés grew at the audacity of the manager of his hotel. Despite her sudden meek demeanor, she was still far too bold in her attempts to ruin Chloe’s reputation.
“Fortunately, Señora Martinez, you run my resort well enough to make me forget this conversation ever took place.” Andrés turned toward the door and then strode from the room, his only thoughts now on finding Chloe.
Being back in Spain and walking along the Mediterranean was absolutely wonderful.
Chloe had woken alone in bed, her body still tingling from the intensity of their lovemaking. After realizing Andrés’ meeting with Señora Martinez was going longer than she expected, she’d left the penthouse to go walk on the beach.
Now, with the waves splashing against her sandaled feet and the wind whipping her hair into disarray, she could admit that Spain was in her blood. She loved it here. Loved being on the water or in the sprawling countryside, where Andrés’ villa lay.
Just thinking of him and the way he’d watched her with such brooding possessiveness sent heat spreading through her body.
Her chest tightened and she sighed. Maybe it wasn’t love on his part, but there was so much tenderness in him now that it completely tilted her foundation of what she thought she needed out of life.
The wind picked up and the breeze held a chill, a sharp reminder that she might be in the lovely city of Valencia, but it was still October. They seemed to have more overcast days than sunny, reminding her of Seattle. She was amazed to find she wasn’t homesick for the States.
Pushing a wayward strand of hair off her forehead, she turned and headed back to the hotel. When she spotted a familiar face, she waved to Carlos, the bellhop who’d been dating her roommate Betsy. The three of them had spent many nights swimming and enjoying the city.
“You have come back.” He grinned, throwing his arms around her in a friendly hug. “Did you miss working for that tyrant Señora Martinez that much?”
“I’m not here to work this time,” she murmured, and fought the blush that threatened. It would soon be common knowledge that she was here with Andrés Montero, but she hesitated to announce it. “Is Betsy still in Spain?”
Regret flashed in Carlos’ eyes. He shook his head. “No, she has returned to London for the time being. I plan to visit when I can raise the funds. I miss her more than I expected.”
Chloe nodded with sympathy, wondering if Estella Martinez had managed to drive the other girl away too. A shiver ran through her and she bit back a sigh. “I would stay longer to chat, Carlos, but I’m afraid I’m in a bit of a rush to meet someone…”
“Of course.” He nodded and lifted her hand, pressing a brief kiss on the knuckles. “Enjoy your stay, Chloe. Nice to see you.”
“Nice to see you too.” Chloe gave him another smile, then continued on her way to the resort.
A gentleman concierge opened the door for her to enter the hotel. She smiled in appreciation, trying not to feel self-conscious. It was different being in Diablo’s Paraíso as a guest instead of an employee. If she hadn’t been with Andrés, she never would have dreamed of staying in a hotel of this class.
She lifted her gaze toward the elevator and spotted Estella Martinez boring down on her. Tension ripped through Chloe and she clenched her jaw, not looking forward to the inevitable meeting.
She stra
ightened her spine and forced a pleasant smile onto her face. “Good evening, Señora Martinez.”
“Good evening, Señorita Wilkinson.” The other woman stopped just inches from her, a warm smile on her face, but her softly spoken words were venomous. “You think you’ve trapped him, don’t you? Getting yourself pregnant.”
Chloe blanched and stumbled backward at the verbal assault, shock robbing her of her ability to respond.
The older woman grabbed her wrist and leaned in, her nails biting into Chloe’s skin and a deceptive smile still on her face. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice your fattening belly, puta?”
Whore. She translated Estella’s insult quickly and some of the shock subsided. The first burn of anger took root in her stomach.
“If you think he cares for you in the slightest, Chloe, you are dumber than you look. You are pitiable American trash,” she spat. “He will take your brat once it is born, and then you’ll be disposed of just as quickly as every other lover he’s had.”
“Like he did to you?” Chloe didn’t bother to hide her anger.
Estella’s nostrils flared, but that sickening smile stayed pasted on her mouth. “No, Chloe. Andrés knows that I have the experience to please a man.” Her eyes flashed with triumph. “And I can assure you that while he might be dallying with you now, once your body is distorted with a child, Andrés will be in my bed.”
Chloe wavered on her feet, nauseated from the churning of her stomach. She bit her lip to hold off the tears that threatened until she tasted the metallic tang of blood. The seed of doubt she’d had about Andrés and Estella being lovers had just sprouted monstrously.
“You are a vile woman,” Chloe ground out and jerked her arm free, turning and fleeing for the elevators.
Once inside the lift, she leaned heavily against the wall. Her distress grew and she slid down to the floor to curl her arms around her knees. She didn’t bother to stop the anguished sob that ripped from her throat.
Andrés heard the elevator stopping at the penthouse and set his brandy down on the counter. His mouth tightened while he waited for Chloe to enter.
Dios, he wanted to trust her, but where the hell had she been? He’d arrived back at the penthouse earlier to find her missing, without so much as a note. And he’d been waiting, trying not to make assumptions, for her return for the past hour. Until he’d gone out onto the balcony and seen her in the arms of another man… His blood continued to heat with fury.
Chloe entered the suite without seeming to notice him. She tugged her dress back up from where it lay off her shoulder and then thrust a hand through her tousled hair.
A frisson of unease slid through him. He tried to not compare her appearance to that of a woman coming from a lovers’ tryst. Who was that man whose arms she’d been in?
“Where have you been?” he asked with deceptive calm.
Chloe’s head jerked up and she seemed almost surprised to see him. Her gaze turned wary as she studied him. “I was…walking on the beach.”
“Indeed?”
She took a quick step backward at his approach, running her tongue over her mouth. Her swollen mouth.
Anger erupted inside him and Andrés drew in an unsteady breath, not wanting to believe the evidence that was beginning to align itself. He’d thought Estella’s warning about Chloe being overly flirtatious was nonsense. Yet now she returned to him appearing as if she’d just rolled from another man’s bed.
Never trust a woman. They’re all unfaithful liars. His father’s words shortly prior to his death returned to haunt him.
Over the past few weeks he’d foolishly allowed the hope to build that Chloe would be the one to prove his father’s words false. She was different; he'd sensed it from the start and confirmed it after reading the diary. From the moment he’d first seen her he'd been drawn to her. Had wanted to claim her for himself and never let her go. Foolishness, he knew, but he'd been helpless to the swell of emotion that overwhelmed him every time she was near. An emotion he couldn't name no matter how hard he tried.
Since he’d confessed his past to her, he’d grown entirely too complacent in their relationship. They’d been together constantly, spending hours not just in bed, but walking the ground of his villa and exploring the countryside. They’d grown closer in a way that almost made him uneasy.
Rightfully so, it seemed. He was a fool. Perhaps it was a good thing he’d been presented with a harsh reminder of the true nature of females just now. Chloe might play the compassionate and devoted lover when he was near, but she was still a woman who enjoyed male attention. Just as Estella had warned him.
“Who was he?”
Her brows drew together. “I’m sorry?”
“The man whose arms you were just in, cariño.” His body almost shook with restrained anger, yet he tried to remain calm.
Disbelief shone in her eyes. “You were watching me? We were coworkers from when I worked here, Andrés. It was a simple hug from a friend.”
“Simple hug?” He bit back a snarl. Not with her flushed face and swollen mouth. He grabbed her wrist, jerking her forward and against him. “I hardly think so.”
“This is ridiculous. You always think the worst of me,” she lifted her chin. “I have absolutely no need to explain myself to you.”
“Ah, but I think you do, cariño.”
“I have done nothing wrong. But if you’d like to cast stones from glass houses, you were the one in an uncommonly long meeting with Señora Martinez. So let me be clear about something. If I stay here in Spain with you,” she said defiantly, “I will not tolerate you sleeping with other women.”
Andrés stilled, dismay and a ferocity sweeping through him at her bold words. That she would dare to give him an ultimatum about being monogamous after she’d possibly just been with another man.
He caught her chin in a ruthless grip and stared grimly down at her swollen lips.
“You are mine,” Andrés said refusing to even acknowledge her baseless accusation. He closed his mouth over hers, determined to show her that her denial was nothing but an insolent protest.
She struggled, giving a furious whimper. He thrust his tongue past her lips to dance and retreat against hers, until he finally coaxed Chloe’s submission and her body went pliant against his. Only then did he lift his head and stare down at her. Her eyes were closed and she clutched his shirt, her breathing uneven.
“Deny it all you’d like, but we both know the truth. You belong to me,” he stated firmly. “And by this time tomorrow, it will be official.”
Her lashes fluttered up, her gaze still dazed with passion. “W-what do you mean?”
“I mean that you will marry me.”
Swollen, pink lips parted in shock. “But…you don’t love me.”
“No, I don’t,” he said bluntly, snuffing out any hope she might have that he would ever indulge in such a crippling emotion. “Love has nothing to do with us, or the contract we’ll sign.”
She flinched and shook her head. “I thought you understood. I can’t enter into a—”
“I’ve changed my mind.”
“Don’t do this, Andrés,” she pleaded huskily. “You couldn’t possibly force me—”
“You once asked what kind of man I was, Chloe.” He smoothed his thumb over her swollen mouth. “And what did I tell you?”
She swallowed hard, her gaze flickering with unease. “The kind who always gets what he wants.”
“Yes. And I want you. I will not force you into marriage, I will give you a choice. The choice to be my wife and mother of my child, or the choice to leave both of our lives the moment he is born.”
She made a cry of shock, and when her legs seemed to crumple, he tightened his hold on her, keeping her upright.
“You lie, that is no choice!”
Helplessness and desolation swept across her face; being married to him must’ve been the worst fate she could imagine. Andrés’s gut twisted with an emotion he refused to analyze.
“M
ake your decision, Chloe.”
She closed her eyes and let out a sob. She dipped her head slightly, and whispered, “I will marry you.”
Chloe could almost convince herself it was a dream. That at any moment she would wake up to find she really wasn’t in a courthouse in Gibraltar getting married.
Because this was not at all how she’d envisioned her wedding day. The room nearly empty, wearing a peach-colored dress, with a groom who seemed to be looking straight through her.
She repeated her vows woodenly, almost numb at this point from being rushed into wedlock with Andrés. She bit her tongue to keep the hysterical laugh from escaping. Blackmailed, really. He’d given her no choice.
The tender and compassionate Andrés she’d come to love was gone and replaced with the man who’d forced her to leave America and come back to Spain. He was bitter, angry, mistrusting.
Though if she was honest with herself, she could admit there was a part of her so deeply in love with him, it had been easier to simply surrender to his demands. To almost pretend they could be like any normal husband and wife.
But there was nothing normal about this marriage. In Andrés’s eyes it was nothing more than a business contract—another acquisition to his name.
She started when Andrés slid a ring onto her finger, a traditional gold band with an enormous princess cut diamond. It was absolutely gorgeous, and her heart tripped as she glanced down at it. In another reality she would have wept with joy at such a ring, but to her it felt more like a symbol of ownership.
When the presiding official proclaimed them husband and wife, she blinked tears from her eyes.
Andrés caught her chin in a firm grip and lowered his head, his gaze unreadable. She expected a hard, emotionless kiss. But he shocked some of her numbness away by instead pressing his mouth against hers in a tender, almost reassuring kiss. Such a contradiction to the cold, unfeeling man she’d been standing next to.
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