He ignored her statement, moving to her and lifting his hands to her shoulders. She was frozen at his touch, but didn’t pull away. He massaged his fingers and palms over her tense neck, teasing her.
A moment later, his voice gravelled, he asked, “What else did we talk about that weekend?”
“I can’t see that it matters.”
Damn it, she closed up, just as he’d known she would. So why did he ask the question? Because he needed to know.
“It matters to me.”
“Why?”
“Because you know things about me and I know nothing about you,” he said impatiently.
“Then ask me what you want to know,” she volleyed back, shaking free of his touch and turning to face him. There was steel in her eyes; determination too. “I’m not the same person I was four years ago. Describing what we shared wouldn’t help. I’m different. You’re different. None of this is the same.”
12
“FINE. YOU WANT ME to ask you questions?”
“Not particularly,” she muttered, unable to look away from the fierce mask of determination that sharpened his features. He was magnificent like this – so completely focused that he was breathtaking. “But if you seriously want to know me, don’t focus on what I was like that weekend. That girl’s dead.”
“This isn’t about what I want. We’re going to marry. We have a son together. And yet you are a stranger to me.”
Her cheeks flamed pink as she thought of all the ways in which they were, most definitely, not strangers.
“Sex is one thing, but it is not what I’m talking about,” he said, and her blush deepened. How could he so easily comprehend exactly what she was thinking? “All that I know is that you raised my son and neglected my rights.”
“That’s not precisely true,” she was pushed to defend. “You know that I love him, and that I went through hell and back to raise him, losing my family and my career prospects, all because I wanted to save your damned marriage. In fact, of the two of us, I was apparently more invested in your marriage than you were.”
His jaw clenched. “You don’t know anything about my relationship.”
She snorted. She couldn’t help it. “I know that you cheated. Undoubtedly multiple times.”
His skin was ashen beneath his tan. “I cannot believe that to be true.” He braced his palms on the bench. “I admit that you were obviously an indiscretion –,”
“Gee, thanks,” she muttered, angling her face away from his.
“But not that I made a habit of doing that.”
Oh, how she wanted to believe him! “You were too good at it for me to have been the first.”
“What do you mean? In what ways was I ‘too good’ at it?”
“The hotel, the seduction, the promises without being explicit –,”
“Such as?”
“Oh, I’ve analysed it so many times.” She sighed as the past dragged at her, threatening to suck her under the raging current of her recollections. “I was sure you’d told me that you loved me, but you hadn’t. You talked about love, and you talked about…” the words physically hurt her to say, so she had to regroup for a moment, banking her eyes shut and sucking in a deep breath before continuing. "You talked about a future without placing me in it. You talked about a life and I thought you meant a life with me…”
“It was one weekend,” he said cynically, easily rejecting and shutting down all of the childish dreams she’d foolishly fabricated, four years ago.
“I know that now.” Her voice was stiff. “I was young and naïve and completely overwhelmed by how I felt. I wasn’t exactly firing on all analytical cylinders.”
He jerked his head in acknowledgement of her defense.
“None the less, you went out of your way to make me think we were both falling madly in love. It was so skillful. So damned dishonest.”
“I cannot defend this,” he said roughly. “I have no idea how I could do that. To you, or Arabella.”
Ellie winced.
“I do know that the idea of cheating offends me hugely. That I would punch myself if I could go back in time. I do know that the man I am today would never do something so unconscionable. You are not the only one who has changed, querida.”
“Don’t call me that,” she whispered, shaking her head with vehemence. “You called me that before. It’s a name that has no place in our marriage. Let’s stick to Elizabeth.”
“Elizabeth,” he repeated, but it was no better, for he rolled her name in his Spanish tongue, dipping it in spiced accents and mysterious breaths. Querida might have mean darling, but Elizabeth, the way he said it, was trouble too.
She nodded, as though her stomach wasn’t in knots. “So? What happened to your marriage?”
He returned to the paella and began to plate it up, a scoop in each bowl and a cut lemon for garnish.
“Come on, Xavier. You’re right. We should know this stuff about each other. I’m not asking because I care about you. It’s just information your new wife should have. Wouldn’t you agree?”
He eyed her warily for a moment and finally nodded, but he might as well have been agreeing to put his head right into a crocodile’s mouth, for all the pleasure he took in his agreement.
“So?” She sipped her wine, waiting.
“The accident changed me,” he said finally, a frown on his face as he launched back in time. “I was… impatient. Difficult to live with.”
“You’re kidding?” She interrupted, sarcasm dripping from the question.
He shot her a look. “More than usual. I was so angry with the world. It took me a long time to really accept how close I came to death, or permanent disability. I can see, now, how lucky I was, but at the time, I hated the state I was in. You were right when you said that I had wanted to die.”
“Why?” She breathed, moving back to the stool and perching on one. She rested her chin in her upturned palm and focused all of her attention on his face.
“Because I was half a man. My body was scarred. It’s a work of art, now, compared to what it was at the time. Bruised, swollen, bloodied, infected.” He shook his head angrily.
“That’s all superficial,” she murmured.
“Yes, but it was a far cry from the man I saw myself as. I’ve always been physically strong. Powerful. And I could barely lift my own toothbrush for weeks.”
His eyes met Ellie’s and something passed between them. Sympathy. Pity. And then his swift and total rejection of those emotions. His next statement explained why.
“Arabella had to do everything for me. Brush my teeth, my hair, help me shower.”
“You couldn’t get a nurse?”
“I didn’t like them,” he said, with such trademark churlishness that she had to bite down on her lip to stop from laughing. Because it wasn’t funny – not even remotely. She felt the pain that he must have faced and she felt jealous. Yes, jealous, that he had needed someone else. That Arabella had been there to pick up the pieces while she, Elizabeth, was left to face the prospect of a life without him.
“And then you married her,” Ellie prompted, wishing her heart wasn’t convulsing as it was.
“Yes. She was adamant that we go ahead with the wedding, and I was … grateful to her for the way she tolerated my changes.”
“Don’t be absurd,” Ellie murmured. “She loved you. Tolerance didn’t come into it, I’m sure.”
“I was a bastard. She must have known her life would be miserable if we married and yet she went along with it. I think she couldn’t bear the thought of being a woman who walked away from a man like me. So broken. She pitied me.”
“And you loved her,” Ellie said, biting down on her lip.
“I was changed after the accident. I was in such a dark place, I don’t think I was capable of loving anyone.”
Her stomach clenched, because she suspected he still wasn’t. And yet she’d seen him with Joshua, had seen the way his heart had opened up to their son. “So you see, Elizabeth,
my marriage to Arabella was very much doomed to fail from the start, and I’d like to avoid making that same mistake again. Let’s eat dinner together and damned well try to get through it with some degree of civility.”
It was a reasonable request. It was sensible too. Marriage wasn’t just about one day – a wedding. It was a lifetime commitment and they had Joshua to think of.
His plan was the right one – for Josh, in any case.
“Fine,” she agreed, moving to the casual table in the kitchen. He carried the paella over, then some cutlery and finally the wine, and all the while, she watched him. His litheness and economy of movement, his strength and agility.
“It’s hard to imagine your body was ever damaged at all,” she said thoughtfully.
“I have the scars to prove it,” he said with a grimace.
“Yes. But you move just as you did then. I don’t ever see any evidence of your injuries.”
“I’ve had a lot of therapy,” he said after a moment. “It was over a year before I could run more than a mile.” He shook his head ruefully. “I don’t recommend a high-speed collision, in case you’re wondering.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
He regarded her for several long, sensual beats and heat flicked at the soles of her feet, so that she darted her tongue out and traced the outline of her lower lip. His eyes followed the gesture and her pulse kicked up a notch. She dropped her gaze.
Coward, a voice whispered through her mind.
“You said having Joshua prevented you from following your career aspirations. What were they?”
She startled, surprised she’d said as much, let alone to Xavier. “Oh.” She cleared her throat. “I-I didn’t mean it to sound like I resented him.”
“It sounded like you resented me.”
She hid a smile. “Well, that’s more accurate.”
He laughed softly and she looked at him, and then wished she hadn’t. When he laughed, it was like looking at a solar eclipse. Too bright. Too everything.
“I was going to be a lawyer,” she said, shaking her head, the fantasy seeming so far away now.
“You were to study law?”
She nodded. “I was studying law when we met. I was two years into my degree, that weekend. But I quit out of it when I was six months pregnant.”
“Why?” He asked, a frown on his handsome face.
Her laugh was humourless – just a short, scoffing noise of disbelief. “Because it was hard and took all of my focus and having a child wasn’t something I felt I could add in on top of that. Once I’d had Joshua, I knew I wouldn’t be able to give my degree the same attention.”
“You were so close to finishing, though.”
Her smile was wry. “Not really. I had years to go plus vocational training. No way would I have been able to juggle that with being a mum.”
“But lots of women have children and study…”
“I don’t need you to fuel feelings of my inadequacies,” she said with a quiet resolve.
He expelled a surprised breath. “I didn’t intend to…”
“Well, you were.” She interrupted crisply. “I’ve said the same thing to myself time and time again. I could have studied. I could have worked. Don’t you think I’ve berated myself for being so selfish? The truth is, Josh is probably the only child I’ll ever have and I wanted to enjoy everything about him. I wanted to remember everything, to be there for everything. It was a choice I made, and I’m sure you’re sitting there judging me for it, but it just felt right.”
“He was fortunate you gave him so much of your time,” Xavier said.
She shrugged. “I know. And now he’s in school, I could pick up the tail-end of my degree, but I know what commitment it will take and I’m so torn,” she said, surprised by her honesty.
“In what ways are you torn?”
“I’m passionate about law. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. And I’m good at it,” she said, pride firing her eyes. “I consistently scored highest on my exams. I did training placements at top-tier firms. I worked so hard though, Xavier, and I don’t know if I could do that now. Not if it meant not being able to read Joshua a bedtime story or collect him from school.”
Xavier was frowning, but it was a look of contemplation. “You could study one subject a semester,” he murmured. “Surely you could schedule the contact hours not to interfere with the time Josh is home?”
She nodded slowly, her cheeks flaming. Truth be told, she wasn’t sure she could juggle Josh, university and Xavier. She was already using all her mental wits to keep her sanity. “I’ll think about it,” she said honestly.
“I think you should finish your degree, even if you do not choose to undertake your training contract etcetera. Finishing the degree simply gives you that accomplishment, and allows you to pursue the vocational side later, if you choose to.”
She bit down on her lip, nodding. It was sound advice, and the truth was, Josh was needing her less and less these days. One more year and then he’d start school proper and she’d be at a loose end for five days a week.
“Did I know this about you back then?”
She nodded; he frowned.
“I hate that I can’t remember any of it.”
She tasted a small bit of the paella, then lay down her fork with a heavy sigh. “You thought I must have been an aspiring actress because I was working at the theatre. I said, I just like the songs, and you laughed – you laughed so much that weekend. And then you tried to guess what I did, instead. You guessed such silly things, and I laughed, and finally you said ‘student’ and I nodded, and then you began to guess what I was studying. It took forever.”
She didn’t add that each wrong guess had been punctuated by a long, passionate kiss that had robbed her of breath. That the reason it had taken so long for them to arrive at the truth of her profession was because they’d been far more invested in other more pleasurable pursuits.
“I was impressed,” he guessed, his eyes thoughtful.
“You offered me an internship at the London branch of your company.” Her face paled and she tightened her lips. “At the time I was flattered and amused. You knew I didn’t want anything to do with commercial law, but you were adamant it would be beneficial for my career to have Salbatore Industries on my resumé.”
“Was I?” His expression showed he couldn’t quite fathom his stupidity.
“Now I see you just wanted me where you could keep an eye on me. Sleep with me when you were in London. The perfect, convenient mistress – under your thumb in every way.”
His jaw clenched and she knew he wanted to fight her accusation.
“It would have been foolhardy for you to work for me,” he said instead, the statement heavy with self-recriminations.
“Yes,” she agreed. “I never had any intention of doing so.”
“But now,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his jaw, his mind changing direction with lightning-fast speed, “it would make more sense. You are to be a Salbatore, after all. Why should you not have a role within the company?”
Her eyes sparked to his and her chest began to thump. “You’re serious?”
“Why not? You’re obviously intelligent and hard-working. You’d be an asset.”
Foolish, unwanted tears sparkled on her lashes at this unexpected compliment and, misunderstanding the reason for that, he shook his head and winced. “I’ve offended you. I’m sorry.”
“No!” She said, a bubbling, laughing sob. “You’ve surprised me, that’s all. You’re the last person on earth I ever expected to hear praise from. It caught me off-guard.”
She went to stand, her emotions needing a break, but he reached out and put a hand over hers. “Stay. Eat.”
She stared down at him, her pulse rushing madly, and then she did as he’d said, returning to her seat.
He nodded with satisfaction.
“And your parents have never met our son?” He asked, apparently deciding to leave the question of her caree
r for now.
“No.” She shook her head for emphasis. “Nell sent them a photo when he was born. They asked if I had arranged for adoption. She told them I hadn’t, and wouldn’t, and they wrote back very curtly saying that I wasn’t to bring the bastard to their home.”
He swore and shook his head, then reached for his wine, drinking it as though he could wash the taste of anger out of his mouth.
“You can imagine how I felt,” she drawled sardonically. “Until that moment, I’d never fully understood what a mother’s love meant. I wanted to wrap Joshua in my arms, hold him to my chest, and never let go. I couldn’t ever expose him to my parents’ vitriol and vile points of view. And so we’ve had no contact.”
“I cannot believe they could lose their entire family in such a cavalier fashion,” he said. “You and your sister are their only children?”
She nodded. “Yes. But they are very, very conservative,” she said.
“As are my parents,” he surprised her by offering. “But they would move heaven and earth if there was a grandchild in the picture.”
His words were unknowingly inflammatory.
“They will be the opposite to your father and mother. When they learn of Joshua, they will weep with joy.”
Ellie swallowed past a lump in her throat, memories of the phone call to Maria burning her brain.
She should have told her. She should have been honest with her. Damn it all, Ellie had been young and afraid but she’d deprived everyone of so much. Just like Xavier had said.
“I hope so,” she mumbled, but her mind was in the past, analyzing every look of Maria’s, every shake of Roberto’s head.
They’d scared her.
They’d swept in to protect Xavier and they’d put her firmly on the outside of his life from the beginning. And it had been so easy to believe the picture Maria had painted, and so she’d kept Josh all to herself. Away from people who didn’t want her.
She groaned inwardly.
More people who hadn’t wanted her, just like her parents. And now she was marrying a man who wanted her in bed, but not beyond. He wanted her because of Joshua, and because they had off-the-charts sexual chemistry, but nothing about that was unique to her. If another of his mistresses had become pregnant, wouldn’t he simply have been marrying her instead?
Claiming his Secret Baby & Blackmailed by The Spaniard Page 14