“I should have known. Luciana has a way with celebrating.”
“That she does,” Guy grinned; Addie’s heart crashed into her belly.
Santiago’s mood though was serious. He leaned forward, reaching across the table and placing his hand over Guy’s. It was a similar hand. Long fingers, tanned with neat nails. Santiago’s was just a little more weathered by life’s days.
“I am gratified you have come so early. Before the party.” His eyes shifted sideways. “That you have brought this beautiful woman with you.” Santiago cleared his throat. “I know how busy you are, Guillem. That your life is hectic. I … appreciate you making the time for an old man like me.”
Emotion throbbed around them, and for Addie’s part, she could feel only guilt. Guilt at her part in deceiving this man, guilt that they were lying to him, even when she could see how thrilled he was that Guy had finally, apparently, committed to someone.
“Well,” Guy drawled lightly, “it just so happened we had other plans. They fell through. It’s a shame, really.”
The mood was lifted, the joke instantly lightening the somber sense that had settled around the table. “Good for me,” Santiago cackled.
Addie smiled. “And for us.”
Us. The word jerked Guy’s head, and now his eyes were widened with surprise, before he remembered the act. The ruse. The game of make-believe they were playing to hoodwink an old man.
“Yes,” he said, the word graveled. “And for us.”
The lights from the golf cart illuminated the jetty, but so did the yacht. It glowed like a beautiful beacon, warm and inviting, when Addie knew it to be anything but.
It was late – almost midnight – but she wasn’t tired. She moved wordlessly beside Guy, along the jetty, to the slender white bridge that formed a part of the boat’s side.
She stepped on it, her hand curving around the side of the railing as she climbed onto the boat.
They’d barely spoken since leaving the mansion. But Addie now was full of questions and thoughts.
“Your grandfather is lovely.”
“Lovely?” Guy prompted, shaking out of the suit jacket he’d worn to dinner, draping it carelessly over the back of one of the chairs in front of them. “My grandfather is a formidable businessman, still running several of our commercial interests. He is far from lovely.”
“Well,” Addie shrugged. “That’s your opinion. I think he seems lovely.”
“Like you, he has perfected the art form of being what he needs in order to get his own way.”
Addie froze, spinning around to face Guy head-on. “That sounds an awful lot like a criticism.”
“Not at all,” Guy contradicted. “Not of him, anyway. Santiago uses his skills in business alone. With people, he is as genuine a man as you’ll ever meet.”
Addie tilted her head, but in the back of her mind, she was amazed at how easily she’d come to accept his insults. How only hours after seeing Guy again, she didn’t even flinch at his subtle cruelty towards her.
“He adores you,” she said honestly, reaching up into her hair and pulling loose a pin, then another, and another, until her raven dark mane hung down her back, silky and soft and in large waves that distracted Guy with memories of how he’d used to love running his fingers through her hair, using it to leverage her head backwards and make her mouth accessible.
“That is mutual,” he said.
“I can tell.” She bit down on her lip, and words flew through her mind. Ways to make him understand. Explanations she could give. But the truth sat deep inside her like a stone that wouldn’t budge.
His condemnation was killing her; telling him the truth was the only thing she feared more.
“You can find your way to your room?” He prompted, his expression cold, his manner detached.
Addie took a moment to find her feet and then she nodded. “Of course.”
“Good.” He turned on his heel and disappeared into the depths of the ship, leaving Addie staring after him with a frown on her face and a deep, spiraling sense of loss, deep inside her gut.
Addie was exhausted the next morning. She’d barely slept. She told herself that it was worry over her mother. She’d texted her cousin Cherie and Cherie had assured Addie that everything was fine, but still Addie worried. Old habits died very hard, she supposed.
She’d tossed and turned and done her best not to think about the fact that Guy was only a wall away, in a huge bed in the room next door.
Was he sleeping naked, as he had done in England? Desire sparked in her gut at the very idea, and pushed any idea she had of getting a proper rest far from her mind. Finally, sometime before dawn, Addie crept out of bed, abandoning any hope of actual sleep, and lifted the blind. The window was large and beyond it, she could see the morning breaking over the sea. A glorious golden colour was creeping across the ocean, spreading gold dust and warmth, and filling Addie with a hope that was at odds with the way she’d spent the night before.
In London, Addie ran. She ran every day, without fail, and more often when she was restless, as she was now.
But here, on this Spanish island paradise? Surrounded by perfect, still waters?
She didn’t even hesitate before reaching into the wardrobe and rifling through it until she located a bathing suit. Cherie had packed for her, and apparently she considered barely-there bikinis ideal for this kind of trip, whereas Addie’s tastes usually ran to the more conservative. Still, it was early, and though Guy didn’t ever sleep late, he was unlikely to be awake for at least an hour or two.
She changed into the bikini quickly, grabbed a towel from her bathroom and then silently opened the door, peering from behind it before stepping out, scanning left then right and finally tiptoeing to the door that led to the bridge. She held her breath the whole way, until she’d reached the pier. She thought about walking to the sand and making her way in from the shore, but what was the point? Beneath her, a turquoise ocean was waking up, stirring gently to life, and she didn’t want to delay being a part of it for a moment longer.
She dropped her towel onto the timber platform and then sat on the edge, dangling her feet over, enjoying the gentle feeling of cool that washed over her. Despite the fact the sun was not yet up, the night had been warm and sultry and a hint of that heat remained.
The water was instantly refreshing.
She braced her palms on either side of her and then slid in, gasping as the cool water rose up her body, all the way to her breasts. She swum then, a wide breaststroke, kicking through the water, running parallel to the beach as she knew the boardwalk did. It had been a long time since she’d swum for exercise – since school? She couldn’t recall.
But just like riding a bike, the strokes came back to her easily, and the rhythm was somehow meditative. She pushed through the water, until she was several hundred metres from the boat, and then she stopped, treading water and looking first to the island then to the yacht. All was still.
Not a hint of activity to suggest anyone was on board, but that didn’t change a thing. Addie knew Guy was there.
She ran her fingertips over the water, sighing heavily. Guy didn’t want to discuss the past, and though it pained her, she knew she had to respect that. And yet, the past was all around them. In every gesture, every touch, every word and every smile. The past was all around them and suddenly, it reached for Addie from the depths of the ocean, catching her and dragging her under.
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
He looked at her as though she was the only woman on earth. “You are beautiful tonight, Ava.” The words were throaty, heavy with the drugging sense of desire that always dogged them. She had become used to hearing that name on his lips. She’d even come to like it, though she had longed to hear him call her Adeline, or Addie, for weeks now. To look at her and see the truth of who she was.
“As are you.” Her smile deepened when he reached across and took her hand, lifting it to his lips. Their plates were empty between them, signs of a mea
l both had enjoyed.
Her body ached from the double shift she’d pulled, but it was a small price to pay to be able to go out with Guy at a normal time. To date him like a normal woman might, instead of working until the stroke of midnight and sneaking to his home, exhausted yet aching for the pleasure of his touch.
“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you in clothes,” he teased, subconsciously echoing her thoughts.
“And?” She purred. “Do you like?”
The dress was one of Cherie’s, a beautiful creation made of swirling black fabric, it clung to her slender frame, showing just a hint of cleavage, and ending inches above her knee.
“I like the idea of peeling it off you,” he amended. “But it’s certainly giving me a crash course in delayed gratification.”
“Excellent,” she murmured, sitting back in her chair and reaching for her drink. She sipped it through the small red straw, her eyes holding his so that she saw the moment his gaze dropped to her lips, chasing the action, watching the way she formed a perfect ‘o’ around the plastic.
“Tell me you don’t want dessert,” he said on a stifled groan, the intensity in his eyes giving her little doubt as to what he was suggesting.
“I don’t want dessert.”
“Excellent. Let’s go.” He stood, extending a hand to her. She placed hers in it and, as always, everything inside of her locked into place. Certainty, their future. She smiled as they walked towards the front of the restaurant, but her smile dropped the second she saw the woman behind the counter.
What in the world were the chances?
Lorraine?
“Adeline?” Lorraine’s cockney accent was somehow incongruous in the formality of the Michelin-starred restaurant. “What are you doing here?”
Addie squeezed her eyes shut for a second, her fingers curling into fists by her side, her nails digging into her palm.
“You not still on night shifts?”
Beside her, she was conscious of Guy’s every single reaction. His stiffening, his silence, his watchfulness. Bright heat flooded her face.
“Adeline, you look like you’ve seen a ghost! Did the other girls not tell you I was working ‘ere?”
Addie shook her head, finding speech almost impossible.
“Adeline? Are y’al’right?”
She nodded, clearing her throat and doing her best to find her voice. “Lorraine,” it came out as a weak croak. “No, I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Yeah, been about two months now. Much better than Reynolds. Tips are amazing,” she said with a meaningful wink at Guy.
Addie’s stomach rolled.
“How do you two know each other?” Guy’s question was innocent enough, but Addie felt every single bump of undercurrent.
“We used to work together,” she rushed the explanation out, hoping he would be satisfied with it.
“Oh,” he prompted silkily. “At the theatre?”
“Theatre?” Lorraine laughed. “Since when have you been at a theatre?” She laughed. “We was cleaning offices together. You know, through Reynolds? The contractor? Been what, three years now?”
Addie’s stomach was in knots, her face pale. She nodded though, seeing no sense in lying now. There was no way to get out of the situation. “Four,” she corrected distractedly, her eyes beseeching as they lifted to Guy’s.
No, not Guy’s.
Guillem Rodriguez, Spanish billionaire, from the powerful, influential Spanish family – as highly-regarded and ancient as royalty. Her throat was thick. She reached for his hand instinctively, only to find it not there. He was busy reaching for his black Amex, lifting it from a slim leather wallet and brandishing it towards Lorraine.
“Don’t miss those night shifts, I’ll tell you what,” Lorraine continued, apparently blissfully unaware of the tension that had filled the small foyer of the restaurant.
“I’ll bet,” Addie needed to get out of there.
Lorraine smiled at Guy and handed his credit card back. “Oh, Addie,” Lorraine said, just when Addie thought she might have been on the brink of escape. “I’m having a housewarming next week. Saturday night. Come along – I’ll text you the address.”
Addie nodded, though she couldn’t think beyond the next few minutes.
They stepped onto the cold London street, right into a flurry of late-night snow. Guy stared down at Addie but neither spoke. Addie wanted to, yet she couldn’t find any words. Instead, she watched and waited to see how he would react.
“Why did that woman call you Adeline?”
Her heart dropped. She hadn’t expected a direct question. Then again, how had she thought he would react?
“Ava?” He demanded sharply, when she didn’t answer.
Addie’s stomach swirled in knots.
“Tell me what the damned hell is going on.”
Addie nodded urgently. “I’m… Guy… I…”
His eyes narrowed. “Is there a reason you have been using the wrong name?” His eyes were speculative. “And why you didn’t tell me you are a cleaner?”
Was she imagining the derision in his voice? The disparagement of such a menial job?
Hell, Guillem Rodriguez had cleaners, he didn’t date them.
She shook her head quickly. “I didn’t mean… I wasn’t trying to lie to you,” she said quickly.
“Then your name is really Ava and you are a theatrical actress?”
She fanned her eyes shut, and shook her head slowly. “But I can explain…”
“Explain?” He demanded harshly, his tone rich with disbelief. “Somehow I doubt that. But by all means, Ava, try.” He was visibly withdrawing from her, pulling back, distancing himself from the intimacy that had sucked them both in during the month they’d spent together.
“Adeline. My name is Adeline,” she whispered. Now that he knew her name, he might as well use it.
He jerked his head, as if rejecting her entreaty. “Why have you been lying to me?”
Addie sucked in a shaking breath, reaching a hand for his chest, seeking comfort, needing touch.
“I didn’t … I didn’t mean to. I never meant to lie.”
“But you have been.” The words were scathing. He puffed his chest, his eyes homing in on her with a ruthlessness she had never thought him capable of. At least, not towards her. “You disgust me. You, and women like you. God, I thought you were different! But you’re just the same as all the others. What did you want? Money? Fame? Do you want me to finance a film with you at the centre of it? I must say, you are a truly brilliant actress, to have been able to fool me for this long.”
She shook her head but the truth – the truth was such a huge ball to unravel, she had no idea where to start. Only she had to try. “Please, let me explain…”
“Explain what, Ava? That I’ve been sleeping with a stranger? That you’ve been using me? That you’ve been lying to me?”
She nodded, then shook her head. “It was just a game, Guy. I didn’t think I’d meet anyone like you and… when I did, I tried to end it, remember? You pursued me…”
“I thought you were different!” He shouted the accusation and then swore softly, looking around at the passers by whose attention he’d attracted.
“I am,” she promised, and then bit down on her lip. “Let’s go back to your place, to talk about this…”
“No.” His look was one of ice. “I am not a man to be lied to. I am not a man to forgive.”
“Guy,” she felt the sting of tears on her eyes. “This isn’t… black and white. You have to believe me!”
“Believe you?” He took a step backwards and she felt the distance like a physical pain. “I will never believe you again. Not in a thousand years. I know what you are now. You are the worst kind of person; you are dead to me.”
6
GUY WAS WATCHING HER from the deck of the yacht when she returned, swimming closer to the shore, braving the saltiness of the water to keep her eyes under and see what she could of the marine fauna tha
t lived on the bottom of the seafloor. Little wisps of seaweed warred with conch shells and crabs. The ecosystem was alive and thriving off the coast of Acantilados.
She felt a hint of disloyalty to her swimming companions as she strode towards the shore, thinking of how much better she’d have liked the crabs if they’d been lightly broiled and served with a garlic butter sauce.
“You know,” Guy drawled with a sarcasm that Addie was getting used to. “There are steps on the boat. You did not need to go all the way in and walk along the jetty.”
Addie pulled a face, refusing to feel self-conscious in the skimpy bikini she wore, even when Guy’s eyes drifted slowly over her body, lingering on the curves that were barely hidden by the scrap of fabric. “It’s my first time on a super-yacht,” she said archly. “I’m sorry if my lack of experience offends you.”
His expression didn’t alter. “You didn’t seem to grapple with the luxuries of my lifestyle in the past.”
Her heart turned over. “I didn’t see the luxuries of your lifestyle, beyond the thread-count of your sheets and the size of your bed.”
His lips twisted into a grudging smile, and though it was only a flash on his face, it had the power to rob Addie of breath. She was grateful he was wearing clothes – if he’d been in his swimmers as well, she would have run the risk of leaping up and wrapping her legs around his waist. Instead, she kept a mask of nonchalance around her and went to move past him. Her pulse gushed the second their arms touched but she kept going, ignoring the sensation that she’d been sparked by a livewire.
“What are we doing today?” She asked when at a distance she considered safe.
“We? I’m not your tour guide, Ava.”
She ignored his scathing retort. “No, you’re my employer,” she simpered, then with the past so clear in her mind, “Why do you insist on calling me Ava?”
He took a step towards her, his body taut. “You were once very happy for me to call you by this name.”
Her lips twisted wistfully. “No, I wasn’t. I always hated it. You can’t imagine how much I longed to hear you say my real name.” Her eyes lifted to his, challenging him, willing him, to call her Adeline.
Claiming his Secret Baby & Blackmailed by the Spaniard (Clare Connelly Pairs Book 4) Page 25