by Abby Green
* * *
Lazaro existed in a fog for a few days. Barely aware of going through the motions. He found himself standing in the vast open space of a glass box on the outskirts of the city one day, with genuinely not much recollection about why he was there, beyond a vague memory of making an appointment to meet the estate agent to look at the houses Skye had viewed.
Her words came back into his head—how she’d accused him of wanting to have a house here just because it was where his parents lived. ‘Everyone is locked behind their huge gates and walls with more security than a head of state. It’s not natural.’
She’d told him it wouldn’t bring him peace to live here. And he knew with a dull feeling of pain inside him that it wouldn’t. Yet he’d been prepared to put Skye and the baby here, as if he could use them to quiet his demons.
A sense of shame burnt through the fog numbing Lazaro’s brain. And with the shame came clarity, for the first time since he’d watched Skye walk over to his mother to confront her.
He cut off the estate agent, who was saying something about security. ‘There was a house my wife looked at in the centre of the city, near the park. I’d like to see that one.’
A week later
‘You can go in.’
Lazaro took a deep breath and walked into Gabriel Torres’s office. The man was standing by the window, hands in his pockets.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’
Lazaro walked over to the desk and put down a padded envelope. He tapped it lightly before looking at Gabriel.
‘There is all you need in there to find out if we are related. Which we are. Again, I don’t want anything from you, or your family—simply an acknowledgment that I’m of your blood. It’s the least I’m due, I think. Also, I’ve decided to pull out of the bid for the market. I still think my bid was the better one, but it’s not my priority any more. And, yes, you’re right: a big part of my motivation was in going up against you. You’re a worthy adversary, Gabriel, but I’ve lost the appetite for battling with you.’
Lazaro turned to go, and he was almost at the door when he heard Gabriel say, ‘What’s changed?’
Lazaro turned around. He smiled, and realised he felt lighter than he’d felt in years. In his life. ‘I’ve just realised what’s truly important in life...that’s all.’
He turned again and walked out, but not even the expression of confusion and shock on Gabriel’s face could distract him from what he had to do next.
* * *
Skye tried to put everything out of her mind except what was in front of her. A heaving restaurant on a Friday night. Her old boss had given her a few shifts, and she was grateful to be kept busy so that her mind didn’t keep circling back to that last conversation with Lazaro. And to the pain near her heart.
Ha! Near her heart? The pain was her heart.
She hadn’t heard from Lazaro in two weeks, and it couldn’t be clearer that he’d already moved on from whatever they’d had.
‘Stop scowling, Skye. You look like you’re going to take someone’s head off.’
Skye rearranged her expression with effort. ‘Better?’
The friend who was letting her crash in her spare room said, ‘Marginally. Now you just look deranged.’
Skye smiled properly at that. And then she kept that smile on her face as she dived into the fray, using the hectic pace to take her mind off her pain.
She was so intent on distraction that she didn’t even notice him at first.
She’d walked over to the table on auto-pilot, pulling her pen from where she’d stuck it in the bun on top of her head. She moved to a new page in her order book and looked up, pen poised—and fell into two green pools.
The shock was so profound that she swayed on her feet, her blood rushing south.
Lazaro grabbed her. ‘Skye. Do not faint on me.’
Something in the autocratic tone brought her back to her senses, like smelling salts. She blinked. He was still there. The sheer reality of his physicality was overwhelming.
She scrambled back, almost landing on the table behind her. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘We need to talk.’
‘I’m working. This is not a good time,’ she hissed at him.
She turned to walk away, and then she heard him speaking from behind her, in a loud voice.
‘This woman is the mother of my child and I’m here to talk to her. But she refuses.’
She turned around in horror to see Lazaro appealing to the people in the restaurant. Everyone was looking at him, rapt. She saw one woman take out her phone to take a picture—or, worse, maybe a video.
Then her boss came up behind her and said, ‘Skye? Do you want to take this outside? Please?’ He took her order book from her and handed her her bag and coat.
She was outside in the brisk autumn air before she knew how it had happened. Lazaro was looking darkly handsome and effortlessly gorgeous in an overcoat. And smug.
The shock was beginning to fade. All the anger Skye had been feeling towards him boiled over. ‘How dare you embarrass me like that in front of everyone?’
He folded his arms and arched a brow. ‘You mean the way you embarrassed me in front of all my peers and several members of the press just a couple of months ago?’
That took the wind out of her fury a little. But not totally. ‘What are you doing here, Lazaro? You could have phoned me. I gave your assistant my contact details.’
‘I could have, yes. But that wouldn’t have been as satisfying as this.’
‘This? What do you—?’
Her words were stopped because Lazaro had crushed her mouth under his in a deep, drugging kiss, arms wrapped tight around her body. Her bag and her coat fell to the ground.
When he lifted his head Skye’s felt heavy. Blood was thundering through her brain, wiping out rational thought. But it trickled back slowly, as oxygen returned to her brain cells. The fact that their desire burned as hotly as ever was a bittersweet revelation.
She pushed herself out of Lazaro’s embrace and bent down to get her coat and bag. When she straightened up she saw Lazaro’s eyes resting on the swell of her belly, evident under her very boring stretchy black top.
‘It’s bigger,’ Lazaro said.
‘Yes,’ said Skye, suddenly shy. The enormity of him being here sank in. ‘Lazaro...what do you want?’
He lifted his gaze. ‘I’m in the same hotel as last time. Come with me? Please? I have some things to say to you.’
That sounded ominous—in spite of the kiss, which Skye put down to a moment of madness. But they did need to talk. ‘Okay.’
He helped her to put on her coat and then took her bag. She decided not to fight the battle to get it back. A part of her was enjoying seeing such an Alpha male carrying a small patent cross-body bag over his shoulder.
They walked the short distance to the hotel in silence. And when they entered the lobby Skye felt a sense of déjà vu wash over her again. She remembered how excited she’d been. How in awe of Lazaro. How life-changing that night had been. Literally.
The feeling of déjà vu got worse when they stopped outside the same suite. And then went in. Not that Skye remembered much about it from the last time. Her head had been too full of Lazaro and what was to come.
Now it was different. Even though she couldn’t deny the awareness humming under her skin.
Lazaro took off his coat, revealing a long-sleeved sweater and dark trousers. He looked totally urbane, but when he turned to face her she could see the strength of his chest under the thin material and her mouth dried.
‘Do you want tea, coffee?’
Skye shook her head. He came over to her.
‘Let me take your coat.’
Ridiculously, she felt like saying no, but she let him take it, wondering if it was her imagination that his fingers l
ingered on her neck.
Tension wound tight inside her. ‘What do you want to talk about?’
Lazaro stuck his hands in his pockets. ‘I want you to come back to Madrid with me. I don’t want you living in another city. I want you to have the baby in Spain. And I’m prepared to compromise on the house. I looked at that one you liked near the park...it’s beautiful. The kind of place I would never have considered. It needs some work, but it should be ready by the time the baby is here.’
Skye absorbed this, and then realisation sank in. ‘You’ve bought it already?’
He nodded.
‘But...what about the park across the road...? Won’t it be difficult for you?’
He made a face. ‘If anything, I fantasised about living in one of those palatial houses by the park more than I ever did about living in the suburbs. I’d just forgotten...’
‘I didn’t think you were going to live with us.’
‘I don’t think I’d truly considered doing that either. But I want something different now. I want to give this a go properly. A life together.’
Skye’s legs felt suspiciously wobbly. She moved over to a chair and sat down. ‘What’s changed?’
Lazaro started to pace, taking his hands out of his pockets, running one through his hair, messing it up.
He stopped and faced her. ‘Everything. Me. I went to see Gabriel Torres. I left him a sample of my DNA and told him he could do a test if he was interested in finding out if we’re related. But even if he doesn’t, and even if I never know for sure, it doesn’t really matter. Just like the bid for the market doesn’t matter either. I told him I was pulling out.’
‘But I loved your bid,’ Skye said in dismay.
Lazaro shook his head. ‘Gabriel was right. It was more about my feud with him than anything else. And you were right too. The only reason I didn’t use your logo was because I had to push you back somehow...’
He looked at her.
‘I was too harsh on you about my mother. It was just so shocking to me...to see you go after her like that. I’ve only ever seen her a few times in my life. We’ve never spoken. My feelings about her are...complicated. I’m so angry at her, and yet whenever I see her I see some vulnerability. I feel a need to protect her for some bizarre reason. Which makes me feel more angry. No one has ever stood up for me before, Skye. I’ve been on my own for ever. I didn’t know how to respond... I felt exposed.’
Skye felt the tiny flame of hope she’d quenched upon leaving Spain bursting back to life. She told him what his mother had said—about hers being a cruel world and that she was happy he had Skye.
Her face was hot. ‘I think she assumed there was more to our relationship. But, more importantly, I think she was saying that perhaps things weren’t so black and white—that maybe she had a reason for giving you up. Maybe she didn’t have a choice.’
Lazaro’s face tightened. ‘Perhaps. But I’m not here to talk about her now.’ He pulled a chair over to sit opposite Skye. ‘She was right about one thing, though...’
‘What...?’
‘I never expected to meet someone like you, Skye. You’re a free spirit. You’re not the kind of woman I thought I needed in my life. And yet... I don’t want anyone else in my life.’
Skye looked at him, trying to read his expression, his eyes. He’d bought the house. He was clearly prepared to compromise—to give their life together a go. But she had to protect herself.
‘You might be willing to compromise, but I don’t know if I am.’
Lazaro frowned. ‘What does that mean?’
Skye stood up. She couldn’t think straight so close to him. She walked over to the window, which looked out over Dublin’s leafy St Stephen’s Green. A far smaller version of that park in Madrid, but equally charming.
She battled to keep the emotion she was feeling out of her voice. ‘I spent my life with someone who didn’t love me enough to put me first. My mother dragged me from pillar to post in her endless quest for peace, or whatever it was she was looking for.’
She turned around to face Lazaro, who had stood up. The shadows in the room made him look taller, darker.
‘I don’t want to come second again. I want to be someone’s first choice. I want more than compromise. I deserve more. And maybe some day I’ll find it. But that’s not what you’re offering, Lazaro. I know we have this amazing chemistry, but that won’t last...will it?’
She hated the hopeful note in her voice and hurried on.
‘And when it’s gone I think whatever we have won’t be strong enough to sustain a relationship. I thought that the most important things to me were setting down roots, stability and security. And they are. But I want more than that. I want a life that’s rooted. Not just an existence. I want a family.’
Lazaro moved over to where Skye stood.
She put out her hands. ‘Please...don’t touch me. I can’t think when you do, and you make me forget everything—’
He took her hands in his and laced his fingers with hers. She looked up at him, her eyes roving over his face. Over the perfect symmetry that she knew could distract people from the much deeper and more complex man.
‘I forgot to tell you the most important thing,’ he said.
‘What’s that?’
He tugged her towards him. She came reluctantly.
He smiled. ‘That I love you, Skye Blossom O’Hara Sanchez. I love you so much it scares the life out of me. I realised how much I loved you when I saw you take on my mother, but I was in too much shock to take it in. And too threatened and terrified. I had my whole life planned out before I laid eyes on you, and as soon as I did it all went out through the window. I only realised how lonely I was when you came into my life, and yet the more I came to depend on you, the further I pushed you away. It felt like a weakness...wanting you, needing you.’
Skye was afraid to believe everything Lazaro was saying. If he was just saying this to get her to come back...
‘How can you be so sure...? How do you know it’s not just physical...or the thought of the baby...?’
‘Did you not hear what I said? Falling for you has been the most terrifying and threatening thing I’ve ever experienced. We’re not so dissimilar, you and I. I haven’t trusted anyone in...ever. I’ve never let anyone get close. Until you.’
‘I’m scared too, Lazaro,’ Skye whispered. ‘So scared. I love you so much. But I always vowed never to let anyone close enough to hurt me. And you really hurt me...’
Lazaro lifted his hands to her face, cupping her jaw, his thumbs wiping at tears she hadn’t even been aware she was shedding. Great. Now she’d be all blotchy.
‘I’m so sorry. I was an idiot. Please come home with me...let me show you how much I love you.’
Skye searched Lazaro’s face and his eyes, not fully believing what she saw. Too afraid.
Then Lazaro took his hands away and said, ‘Wait. I have something.’
He pulled something out of his pocket and she looked down to see her wedding ring and engagement ring in the palm of his hand. She’d left them behind at the last moment.
He got down on one knee and took her hand. ‘I never asked you to marry me. I told you we would marry and you had no real choice. But now you do. And I want you to choose. Skye Blossom O’Hara, will you please consent to be my wife, the mother of my child and hopefully our future children?’
She wanted to—so badly. But what he was asking her to do was to forget the lessons of a lifetime and put herself in someone else’s hands again.
As if he could see her turmoil, he said, ‘I saw that sketch you did of me...and it scared the life out of me. No one has ever seen me before—really seen me. Except you. And I think it’s the same for you. No one has really seen you either. But I see you, Skye. I love you, and I know you love me too. You just have to trust me, my love. I won’t let you fall.’
Skye looked down into the eyes of the man she loved and she believed him. ‘Yes... I’ll be your wife, Lazaro Sanchez.’
And she fell right into his arms and into his heart.
They landed in a tangle of limbs on the floor, and at some point resurfaced for long enough to make it into the bedroom, where they relived that first night all over again—except this time one night would last for ever.
EPILOGUE
Eight months later, Andalucía.
‘HEY, WAKE UP, SLEEPYHEAD.’
Skye smiled into the kiss Lazaro pressed to her mouth. She reached for him, but he caught her hands.
‘Not this time, you insatiable woman. I have something to show you.’
He helped her out of the hammock strung between two trees in the back garden of the hacienda. It was early summer and the air was redolent with the perfume of a hundred different flowers.
Skye stood up, her sundress falling around her legs. Her breasts were heavy with milk and she smiled at their four-month-old son Max, who was sleeping peacefully against his father’s chest in a harness. Lazaro had taken him for a walk after his last feed.
‘How is he?’ She touched his plump cheek and he stirred softly before settling again.
She didn’t blame him. Her favourite thing to do was to fall asleep on Lazaro’s chest and feel his heartbeat under her cheek. But that was usually after—
She blushed and said hurriedly, ‘What do you want to show me?’
He smiled at her and she blushed harder—because he knew exactly what she’d been thinking.
He took her hand and led her into the hacienda and up the stairs, all the way to the stairs that led up to the top room where she’d sketched her first portraits.
She looked at Lazaro, her excitement growing. ‘It’s ready?’
He nodded and opened the door that had been closed to her for months on Lazaro’s instructions. He led her up the stairs and into the space, and emotion filled her heart so much it was all she could do to take it in.