by Dani Collins
“But why did you reject him in the first place?”
He shook his head as though he pitied her. “You worked for him—lived with him—for five years and never saw what a manipulative and unforgiving person he was? Val gets his streak of malice from somewhere, Scarlett.”
“And that’s the other thing I don’t understand! Why do you hate Val so much? Niko said you were competitive as children—siblings can be. I get that.” Her own sister was a constant aggravation. “But he said your mothers were the ones who poisoned you against each other and him.”
“He said that?”
“Yes.” She could see she was riling him up, but she had always been baffled by these wide channels of animosity. “He said Val was a troublemaker and was expelled from the boarding school you attended. That after Val gave up any claim to his fortune, you did the same. That’s never made sense to me. You cut off your nose to spite your face.”
“What a liar,” Javiero said through his teeth, his hand now clenching the arm of his chair as though to hold himself back from launching himself at her. “Val had the luxury of throwing Dad’s money in his face. He was making six figures wearing a hoodie and a scowl. Where would I get that sort of income at thirteen? My mother’s marriage was supposed to square off the debt my grandfather was in, but once she divorced him for his infidelity, Niko refused to pay her anything but child-support—in scrupulously equal amounts. Do you know what Niko said when my next semester came due and Val had dropped out?”
Oh, no.
“That he wanted to treat you equally,” she surmised with dread. She wanted to bury her face in her hands, hiding from what she suddenly saw as the bitter truth.
“He said Val was showing initiative and independence. The sort of maturity and business acumen that would serve him well when he inherited everything—because why would he reward the weaker son?”
“No.” Javiero was not weak in any way. He had had a steeper hill to climb and had lost his grandfather along the way. How could Niko dismiss him so cruelly? She had known him to have a ruthless streak, which she had thought of as the result of his sons’ rejection, not the source of it.
She felt sick, genuinely sick.
“I had no choice but to renounce his magnanimous offers to reinstate me as his heir. I might have proven myself in his eyes by the time you came along, having recovered and surpassed what my grandfather had amassed. I might even have been driven by Niko’s ridicule to achieve all that I did. But I have long ceased to care if he even remembered we shared DNA. I sure as hell didn’t want his money. I especially didn’t want to be beholden to him for anything. I still don’t.”
She couldn’t even defend Niko. He had mellowed as his health declined and his granddaughter came on the scene. She had watched it happen, but none of that erased his heartlessness toward his own children.
“I’m so sorry, Javiero,” she murmured.
“For what? For working for him? For showing up here and acting as though I was the one being hurtful and stubborn because I refused to go see him? Or for burdening our son with that tainted pile of cash? I don’t want you touching it, Scarlett. It will ruin all our lives. It will ruin mine all over again.”
CHAPTER FIVE
THE NURSE RETURNED from the shops, interrupting them. Her smile faltered, revealing she knew she had walked into a heavy discussion.
Javiero left her to badger Scarlett into a nap, going to the den to make some calls, mostly seeking privacy to regain his control. He didn’t like that he’d slipped back into ancient rage that had no place in his life anymore. The source of it was dead and he had moved on, but it was difficult when Scarlett was hanging on so tightly to the role Niko had given her.
And what the hell had he been thinking by kissing her? His ego wasn’t so fragile he needed proof a woman could still find him attractive! Rather, he had needed to know that the spark between them still existed. Not just to prove she could see past his disfigurement, but to prove to himself their passion hadn’t been completely one-sided that day.
He didn’t take much comfort from the confirmation. It only meant he had a weakness for her that she could exploit if he wasn’t careful.
The next days—and nights—were consumed by the learning curve of new parenting. They hired a nanny who was cheerful and efficient—and unable to settle Locke. Even Javiero was at his wit’s end with Locke’s long bouts of crying. He didn’t want to put the burden on Scarlett to walk him, but he was hideously relieved each time she turned up at his elbow and said, “I’ll take him.” Locke was happier when his mother held him. Javiero refused to torture his own child by separating them.
Scarlett didn’t complain, either. Like any mother, she was anxious to soothe him, but the demands of a new baby took a toll. She refused to talk about wedding arrangements, and the one time he questioned whether she ought to be working, suggesting she nap, he stepped squarely on her frayed nerves. He managed to resist engaging with her temper. Although he was a man used to getting what he wanted with a single order, he couldn’t fight a woman with dark circles under her eyes, especially when she was so sensitive that she teared up over a text.
“Was that Kiara? What did she say?” he asked as he noticed her glistening eyes. They were in the back of his car, headed to Casa del Cielo after nearly two weeks in Madrid.
“My sister. It doesn’t matter.” She leaned to check on Locke, fast asleep in his carrier.
Sister? She hadn’t said much about her family, only that it was “complicated.” The one time she had looked as though she was willing to open up, Locke had needed her and the moment had passed.
“What did she say to upset you?”
“Can we talk about it another time?” She flicked a glance at the nanny, who was staring out the window and trying to pretend she wasn’t there.
Javiero bit back a curse of frustration. He couldn’t fix problems she wouldn’t identify.
“Things will calm down now we’re home.” He nodded as the villa came into view. He kept his attention on her as she took in Casa del Cielo atop a plateau draped in vineyards and orchards. From its vantage point, he had always felt as though he could see from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean. He loved his home with all his heart.
“Sky House,” she murmured with awe. “Pictures don’t do it justice.”
Maybe he had expected covetousness to enter her expression, or judgment of its weathered age, both things he’d seen on other women’s faces. Parts of the villa were three hundred years old. It definitely had its limitations, but his grandfather had added the “new” wing and the swimming pool sixty years ago, when he’d started his own family. The additional outbuildings for the vineyard had contributed to money troubles later, but were in good repair now.
Javiero had been picking away at further modernizations. Casa del Cielo was now a showpiece of old-world charm run on cutting-edge technologies of Wi-Fi, solar power and soil analysis sensors.
Wonder softened Scarlett’s face as they drew closer, but the melancholy from her sister’s missive lingered. His heart expanded when she touched Locke’s curled fist and said, “Look. This is your papi’s home.”
“His, too. And yours.”
The tilt of her mouth said, We’ll see.
It was a disturbing refutation that niggled at him. He’d achieved what he had through grit and drive, pushing past doubters with sheer force of will. In the past, he hadn’t pulled back with Scarlett, either. She’d always been a formidable opponent, maintaining a serene expression no matter how biting he had become, doggedly looking for ways to get behind his defenses and tilt him toward Niko’s bidding.
He had never softened toward her and didn’t want to now. Still, even though her own shields were up, she had been visibly upset by what he’d told her of Niko’s treatment of him. He was annoyed with himself that he’d revealed it. It was a sore spot that had never fully h
ealed, but he was tired of her putting all the blame for his rift with his father on him.
He didn’t want her dancing around it, though, acknowledging it. It was another reason he was keeping up his guard.
They wound past the wine-making sheds and around the old stables, now converted into a garage with staff housing on top.
Casa del Cielo was a small village unto itself with twenty staff members living on-site and another twenty coming and going daily from the nearby town. Then there were pickers and other seasonal workers as needed.
Maybe he was kidding himself, thinking they would have more peace and quiet here. He was always in high demand and family often dropped by unannounced, knowing they were always welcome. Today, though, only his mother knew of their intention to arrive
Paloma was waiting for them in the front parlor.
“Scarlett,” she greeted in her frostiest tone, not offering her cheeks for a kiss, remaining seated, spine ramrod straight.
“It’s nice to see you again, Señora Rodriguez.” Scarlett stood with her hands clasped before her. “Thank you again for your assistance in Athens.”
“Of course.” She kept her gaze on Locke as Javiero released him from his infant seat.
Javiero expected his mother to tell Scarlett she needn’t to be so formal, given the circumstances, but as the silence stretched, he realized he would have to do that himself.
“You can call her Paloma,” he told Scarlett as he handed Locke to his mother.
His mother said nothing, only smiled at her grandson in a way Javiero had never seen her gaze upon him. “He looks just like you,” she said reverently. “Bienvenido, querido.”
Locke clutched her finger and craned his neck, mouth opening the way he did when he was growing hungry.
“Oh,” Scarlett said ruefully, moving forward. “He’s still in that stage of nursing every hour or two. I should take him.”
“Bottle-feed him. He’ll go four hours.” Paloma made no effort to give him up.
Scarlett’s shoulders stiffened.
Paloma’s chin set.
Javiero bit back a curse.
“He’s two weeks old, Mother. There’s time to introduce formula later.” He took the baby and handed him to Scarlett. “The butler will show you to his room.” He moved to touch the bell. “I’ll find you once he’s settled and show you around.”
She nodded and Javiero waited until she was out of earshot before he turned on his mother. “Do not engage in a power struggle with her over our son. You’ll lose. I’ll side with her every time.”
“By all means, tie your son to her nipple. What could possibly go wrong?” She picked up a cup of tea from near her elbow. “You’re still allowing her to control Niko’s fortune?” Those statements were not unrelated.
“Believe it or not, Mother, I have no control over who controls Dad’s money. That’s up to Scarlett and Kiara.”
“And the lawyers we engage if we choose to. Who is Kiara? Oh, Val’s broodmare. Excuse me. I should say, bride-to-be.” She sipped as though to cleanse her palette. “They’ve posted banns in Milan. It came up in the links with your press release. Have you settled on a date for your own wedding? I noticed there was no mention of it.”
“I’m waiting on my eye.” He’d had a consultation yesterday and heard what he’d already known. He needed reconstruction. It would take months, possibly a year, before he was camera ready. He still wanted marriage, but he appreciated Scarlett’s gesture of coming here and being willing to coparent.
“Squeamish, is she?” His mother set her cup in the saucer with a clink of disdain.
“Not as squeamish as Regina.” He watched her mouth flatten, but gleaned no pleasure from his dig against his mother’s poor choice in potential brides. “Look, I don’t like that Scarlett worked for Dad either, but she’s no longer his PA. She’s the mother of my son.”
“We’re sure of that, are we?”
“You just said he looks like me. Would you like the test results?”
She pinched her mouth with annoyance.
“We’ll talk more later,” he muttered, and started from the room.
“Javiero.”
He gathered his patience and turned.
“You’ll find her in the guest wing, next to the room we prepared for Locke.”
“Perdóneme?” He folded his arms. “What happened to finishing the dowager apartment and giving her your rooms?” That had been the plan when he’d been engaged to Regina. The work had been put on hold since the accident, but he had expected it to continue from the moment his mother had learned about Locke.
She sniffed. “I see no reason to move out of my room for anyone but your wife.”
“I guess you’ll have to listen through the wall while she shares mine, then.” Fueled by angry disgust, he took the stairs two at a time.
* * *
Scarlett was struggling with more than moving a desk. She was trying not to feel the frostbite off Paloma when she already had freezer burn blisters from Javiero. Today in the car was the most she’d seen him since she’d come to Spain and he’d been on the phone for much of the drive.
How was it that she was missing a man she’d barely ever seen? He was sweet as pie to Locke and gave her all his attention when they spoke about their son, but the minute conversations turned to other topics, he grew reticent. There had been no more overtures or kisses, no interest in her at all beyond polite inquiries about her health.
Meanwhile, she felt like a fraying piece of yarn, stretched thin between her son and her job, strummed by Javiero’s brief appearances, vibrating for hours afterward.
I can do this, she kept telling herself, refusing to give in to the sheer exhaustion that dogged her through each day.
“What are you doing? Stop that right now,” Javiero said as he strode through the door.
“I can’t reach the socket.” She hadn’t been sure what to make of the studio room she’d been given next to Locke’s. She suspected it was intended for a nanny, given the kitchenette with a coffee press, microwave and shelf of mismatched dishes, but she was up in the night often enough that it seemed convenient.
“Am I the only one who remembers you had a baby two weeks ago? Ask the butler to bring in laborers if you want to move furniture. Ask me. Where’s Locke?”
“Sleeping.” She nodded at the baby monitor on her nightstand.
“And where’s the nanny?” He took the monitor and followed her point to across the hall. She heard him say, “We’ll be in my suite if he needs us. That’s your room—don’t let the maid unpack Scarlett in there. She’s sleeping with me.”
“Since when?” Scarlett moved to the open door with a lurch in her chest.
“Since we’re not having this conversation here.” He motioned her to accompany him up the hall.
Scarlett didn’t have much fight in her. Being a new mother left a woman feeling like a wet rag. She couldn’t blame anyone, not even poor wee Locke and his upset tummy. She was avoiding coffee, worried caffeine was transferring and causing his fussiness so she didn’t even have that in her system to counter her sleep deprivation.
“I’d like to be next to him,” she mumbled. “Especially at night.” This seemed like a long way away. Javiero was striding so fast she had to hurry to keep up with him. “I won’t start him on a bottle, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t care what your mother says.”
“Say it louder so she’ll hear you.”
His gruff tone scraped the flesh from her bones, it really did. Was he going to punish her forever for not telling him about Locke? She wanted to cry, Look at what I’m doing! But it was no more than any new mother went through, she reminded herself.
It just felt awfully lonely.
They entered what appeared to be a newer wing of the house. He flung open a pair of double doors into a massive
bedroom with a four-poster bed the size of a concert stage. Part of the exterior wall was made up of doors that slid open, stacking on one side so the room opened directly onto a wide terrace overlooking the vineyard and surrounding countryside.
It was a burst of sunshine and a glorious vista. A doorway into a new world that was grand and paradisiacal, yet masculine and intimate.
“This is beautiful.” She was drawn outside to absorb the view. The terrace carried along, swelling in the middle where a small alfresco dining table stood, then narrowing again in front of another room on the far side. Below was a private garden and the pool.
Behind her, Javiero closed the entry doors with a snap. She came back inside to watch him cross to another pair of interior doors and lock those, as well.
“Where does that lead?”
“My mother has chosen not to relinquish her bedroom or the lounge that connects us. Not until you are my wife.” His tone knocked that ball firmly into her court.
He hadn’t mentioned marriage in over a week so she was a little surprised it was still on the agenda. She thought about it, a lot, but she couldn’t see taking on the role of wife, especially an unloved one, on top of all the other changes she was dealing with. She’d crumple into a useless ball from the stress.
Not that she could reveal such a weakness when he was liable to see it as an opportunity to steamroll right over her.
She mustered some weak sarcasm. “Romantic as that proposal is, I respectfully decline to be the lever that pries your mother out of her rooms. Is that all? Because I’d like to make some calls while I don’t have a crying baby in my arms.”