chapter SIX
‘HE’S HERE AGAIN,’ Felipe growled as Alesander arrived for the sixth time in as many days, but this time his voice contained less censure, more tolerance. Alesander had called by the vineyard every day. On one day he’d brought the contracts for her to sign and she’d read them in the privacy of his car parked out of sight, carefully checking to ensure the agreement included all the terms she’d asked for—the no sex clause, the termination, the consideration. Then, and only then, she’d put her signature to the contract.
But every day he’d stopped by the house to talk to Felipe and always finding something to repair while he was there, and for all his gruffness, the old man was enjoying talking to another man, she could tell.
‘Of course, he’s here, Abuelo,’ she said, emerging from her room. ‘He’s come to take me to the party. How do I look?’
Felipe craned his head around and blinked, his jaw sagging open. ‘What have you done with Simone?’
‘It is me,’ she protested before she caught the glint in her grandfather’s eyes and realised he was joking, the first time she’d heard him joke since she’d arrived. ‘Oh, Abuelo,’ she said, laughing, giving his shoulders a squeeze, trying to stop a tear squeezing from her eyes and ruin her eye make-up, ‘stop teasing.’
‘Who’s teasing?’ Alesander said from the open front door.
‘Felipe, the old rogue,’ she said without looking up. ‘He’s wondering what I’ve done with Simone.’ And then she lifted her head and saw him, in a dark-as-night evening suit and snow-white shirt, his dark hair rippling back from his sculpted face. Her mouth went dry. He looked—amazing.
‘You’d better go tell her to hurry up,’ Alesander said, ‘I don’t want to be late for Markel’s party.’
Felipe snorted beside her while Alesander’s mouth turned upwards into a smile.
She smiled back, a smile of thanks. ‘I’ll just go and get her in that case,’ and went to fetch her wrap.
‘Don’t keep her out too late,’ she heard Felipe tell him. ‘She’s a good girl.’
‘Don’t give away all my secrets, Abuelo,’ she gently chided, dipping her head to kiss his grizzled cheeks. ‘And you behave yourself while I’m out.’
Markel’s home looked more like a palace than any house she had ever had reason to visit, complete with porticoes and balconies and tall arched windows and doors, and all lit up so the pale walls turned to gold against the evening sky, every open window glowing a warm welcome. Strategically placed palm trees softened the bold lines of the exterior while a fountain tinkled musically in the centre of the driveway turnaround.
‘Help,’ she said softly to herself as he pulled the car up next to waiting doormen who smoothly pulled open their doors. She’d known she was out of her depth from the first time she’d looked up at Alesander’s apartment, but once again she was reminded just how far. This was a world where houses were palatial and came complete with tinkling fountains and where uniformed men waited on you hand and foot. This was so not her world.
She took a deep breath, careful not to trip on her gown, as she stepped from the car. There was music coming from inside, and the hum of conversation punctuated with the occasional peal of laughter, the note of which seemed to match the tinkling fountain. ‘Nervous?’ he said as he joined her, while his car was whisked away behind them for parking by the valet.
She nodded and smiled tightly, her fingers biting down on her evening purse. This was it. The night she not only met his family and friends, but paved the way for him presenting her soon as his fiancée.
Of course she was nervous.
‘Relax,’ he told her, his eyes massaging her fears away. ‘Tonight you look like you were born to this. You look every inch an Esquivel bride. You look beautiful.’
She blinked up at him. Did he really mean it or was it just one more of his build-her-up pep talks to make her believe they could do this—before he pulled the rug out from under her feet again, just in case she actually got to thinking this could become permanent?
He’d barely spoken in the car after she’d thanked him for playing along with Felipe’s joke and she’d guessed it was because he didn’t have an audience he needed to impress any more.
‘It’s true,’ he said, as if he was attuned to her unsaid thoughts and fears, his face perilously close to hers as he squeezed her hand so hard that she almost felt as if she wanted to believe him. But this was Alesander, she reminded herself. Alesander wasn’t in the business of being nice. He bestowed upon her courtesies to convince everyone else that they were a couple, and he needed her to believe enough to carry it off.
Nothing more.
And that was exactly the way she wanted it. Business, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath. This is business. She could do this if she remembered it was business. ‘Okay,’ she said with a determination she wished would stop wavering, ‘I’m ready. Let’s get this show on the road.’
But if arriving at Markel’s home had been daunting, inside was terrifying. So many people, so many women, all of whom seemed to know Alesander. All of whom were apparently keen to discover who she was.
Right now she might just as well have been a butterfly stuck with a pin inside a display case.
‘Alesander, you came.’ A woman’s voice broke through the laughter. ‘I knew you would.’
He leaned down and they kissed, cheek to cheek. ‘Of course, Madre, I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’
The woman’s gaze didn’t linger on her son, moving at laser speed over his guest, appraisal, judgement and summary execution in one rapier-sharp movement. ‘Oh, I see you found another cleaner.’
Cleaner? She looked up at him, waiting for an explanation, but Alesander only laughed.
‘Allow me to introduce you to Simone Hamilton, granddaughter of Felipe. Simone, my mother, Isobel Esquivel.’
Simone’s greeting was cut off, her proffered hand left hanging.
‘Felipe?’
‘Felipe Otxoa—our neighbour in Getaria. Remember?’
‘Oh, that Felipe. I didn’t realise he had a granddaughter.’
‘I’m from Australia,’ Simone offered in her rusty Spanish. ‘I haven’t been here long.’
The older woman smiled for the first time. ‘Oh,’ she said, giving Simone’s hand the briefest of acknowledgements with hers, ‘I hope you enjoy your holiday,’ and took Alesander’s arm, effectively excluding her from the conversation as she turned away to look for someone in the crowd. ‘By the way, darling, have you seen Ezmerelda yet? She looks fabulous tonight.’
Simone hooked a glass of champagne from a passing tray and almost had it to her mouth before Alesander claimed her arm and drew her back into the group. Wine sloshed over the rim of her glass at the sudden change of direction. His mother noticed, sending her a look of oh-you-so-don’t-belong-here, and she thought how terrified she’d be if Isobel was to be her real mother-in-law. Fortunately she didn’t have to be terrified.
‘Alesander’s always grabbing me at inopportune times,’ she shared with a conspiratorial smile. ‘It’s quite embarrassing.’
As if to agree, he smiled and pulled her in close to his body. She didn’t mind the display of affection. Not really. Other than what it did to her internal thermostat. But she could imagine worse places to be than against the hard wall of his body. And it was for a good cause. ‘Simone is actually staying a while,’ he said. ‘As long as Felipe needs help.’
His mother looked anywhere but at the places they made contact. ‘What’s wrong with Felipe?’
‘He’s ill, I’m afraid. He’s not doing so well lately.’ For a moment she almost thought she saw something like sympathy reflected in the older woman’s eyes but just as swiftly it was gone as she caught sight of someone in the crowd. ‘Oh, there she is. Alesander, I’ll be right back.’
‘So who’s Ezmerelda?’ she asked, easing herself away from the disturbing proximity of his body heat when his mother was out of earshot. ‘Should I be afraid?’
‘Markel’s daughter, to answer your first question, and probably a resounding yes to the second.’
‘And why, exactly, should I be afraid of her?’
He leaned close to her ear and whispered, ‘Because you’re wearing her dress.’
Shock forced her jaw to fall open. She stared at him, disbelieving. ‘What? So you knew all the time who wanted this dress? What kind of person would do that?’
‘A person who thought the dress would be wasted on her and look better on you. And it would have been and it does. Much better.’
She barely had time to digest that justification—for she could hardly call it a compliment, surely—when his mother was back with two people in tow. ‘Here they are,’ she said. ‘I told you Ezmerelda looked fabulous.’
Simone caught her breath. Not just fabulous, but stunning as she smiled a greeting to another couple as she passed, her bearing regal if not haughty, looking every inch a Spanish society princess with her black hair pulled back and woven into an intricate up-do, and wide dark eyes and flawless skin. Simone felt pale and uninteresting in comparison.
Markel reached them first, bowing a ruddy-cheeked face lower to catch her name, his smile wide as she wished him a happy birthday before he drifted off into the crowd for more congratulations. She liked the man on sight.
And then Ezmerelda turned her head and her smile widened as her gaze fell on Alesander, a smile that slid away when her eyes found her standing alongside, especially when she saw what she was wearing. Simone saw confusion in her beautiful eyes, and anger and something else that looked like hurt, and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
‘Alesander,’ she said, turning away once she’d recovered, ‘how lovely of you to come.’
They kissed cheeks. ‘You’re looking beautiful, as usual, Ezmerelda. I’d like you to meet Simone Hamilton.’
‘How lovely you brought a friend,’ she said with barely a glance in her direction, ‘but then when do you not have a friend? You’re simply too popular, Alesander.’
She wanted to run. It was like being in a lion’s den with a lioness whose cub she was trying to steal. A hungry lioness. But Alesander wouldn’t let her run. He had her pinned in tight next to his body and he wasn’t letting her go.
It was a relief when a band started playing. ‘Ah,’ Ezmerelda said, ‘the tango display is about to begin, a special treat for my father. I must find him.’
Simone almost sagged with relief, thankful now that he had such a tight hold on her.
‘Come,’ he said, ushering her to a balcony overlooking the floor below, where two dancers posed dramatically, metres apart, on the marble floor. The woman was stunning, her gown like a sheath that flared into a sequin-studded skirt slit to the hip. The man looked equally potent.
And they watched as the music became more dramatic and the dancers circled each other almost warily before starting their attack. And it almost seemed like an attack to Simone—a chase, a seduction, rejection and sex. The dance was unmistakably about sex.
She felt it through each dramatic gesture, each silken caress, all of them purposeful and part of the game. They were exhilarating. But the last was the best, the music evocative and sexy and the dancers, now gleaming in the light with sweat, turned the music physical with their bodies. ‘What is this music?’ she whispered, moved by its powerful emotion.
‘It’s called Sentimientos,’ he whispered back, close to her ear, his warm breath fanning her ear and throat while his thumb traced lazy circles on the back of her hand. ‘It means feelings.’
It didn’t surprise her. It was the most beautiful music she had ever heard.
Just as the dancers’ physical expression of the music was the sexiest thing she had ever seen. She felt breathless with the spectacle, and never before had she been so acutely aware of the man standing beside her, of his steady breathing, of all the places where their bodies touched.
She liked how it felt.
She hated that she liked it.
And when the dancing was over and Alesander released her to applaud, she took the opportunity to flee to the powder room, closing the door behind her and hushing out the sounds of the party. She leaned both hands on the counter and breathed deep. She would have to go back out soon and smile and try to look relaxed, as if she was enjoying herself, but for now, for just a few short moments, she didn’t have to pretend.
She heard the door open and close behind her but didn’t bother looking up. It wasn’t as if she knew anyone. ‘I like your gown.’
Except maybe her.
She opened her eyes. Ezmerelda was standing by the door, watching her. Would it be paranoid of her to think the woman had followed her in here? She tossed up whether or not to apologise, to say she hadn’t known it was her dress when they’d bought it, but that would mean she knew and maybe it was more politic to pretend to know nothing. ‘Thank you. As it happens, I like yours.’
She shrugged the compliment aside. ‘In fact I almost bought one similar to yours recently. Remarkably similar, in fact. Until I decided it was too trashy for such a significant event such as this. It suits you, though.’
Ouch. Mind you, she could hardly blame Ezmerelda being irate after the stunt Alesander had pulled. Not that it meant she’d take this woman’s ire lying down.
‘What a coincidence,’ she replied evenly. ‘I do believe I saw one like yours too. But I decided this one was so much sexier.’
Ezmerelda’s eyes glittered as she swept a path to the counter, digging a lipstick from her purse, touching it to her blood-red lips. ‘I expect Alesander bought it for you?’
Simone smiled at the other woman. Did anyone here not believe it? She shrugged. ‘So what if he did?’
‘You’re sleeping with him then.’ She nodded. ‘I thought as much.’
Simone didn’t bother denying it as Ezmerelda calmly went back to checking her make-up. She’d clearly made up her mind and, besides, wasn’t that what they wanted people to think? And then, just as abruptly, the woman stopped preening and stared at her in the mirror.
‘I like you, Simone. You don’t pretend to be anything that you’re not and I really do understand. You sleep with him—he buys you a dress and takes you to a big party. It’s a simple arrangement. I can see the appeal.’ She shrugged. ‘And because you have been honest with me, I, in turn, will be honest with you.’
‘I appreciate it.’ Simone waited as the other woman reshaped two perfectly arched eyebrows with her finger.
‘Alesander likes his women. Everybody knows that. But everybody here also knows that family comes first, whatever distractions he finds along the way.’ She tilted her head and smiled sympathetically. ‘And believe me, there have been plenty of distractions along the way. But our two families have always had an understanding and perhaps you should also understand. Alesander and I are to be married.’
Really? Funny how Alesander hadn’t mentioned that little fact along the way. ‘Do you love him?’ she ventured uneasily. She suspected not—Ezmerelda didn’t look as if she was pining for a man who didn’t seem to know she was alive, but she’d already inadvertently stolen a gown out from under her. She didn’t want someone’s broken heart on her conscience as well. That hadn’t been part of her plans.
For a moment the other woman looked perplexed. ‘I like him, yes, and it is a good match,’ she said before nodding, as if agreeing with her own words. ‘Together our families will create a new dynasty. He will love me, of course.’
Simone found a smile for Ezmerelda and this time it was genuine. What kind of life must she have, waiting for a man who showed no inclination to marry her—indeed, who flaunted his women in front of her? ‘Then I do understand. Thank you so much for taking the time to share that with me.’
The Spanish woman sighed and swivelled in front of the mirror, checking the view from every angle, before snapping her purse closed, her smile back on and in full force. ‘I’m so pleased we had this little chat. I should get back to the party now.’
‘You should,’ Simone agreed as the other woman headed for the door. ‘Oh, and Ezmerelda?’
‘Sí?’
‘You look stunning in that gown. You are far and away the most beautiful woman here tonight.’
And the other woman smiled. ‘Sí,’ she said, and slipped out of the room, leaving Simone staring blankly at the door, trying to get her head together. Alesander had asked if she had a boyfriend, but she hadn’t thought to ask him if there was someone in his life who would be upset by his marriage. She’d assumed he would never have said yes if there was.
But now there was Ezmerelda, who clearly thought she was first in line to marry him. And she might not love him, she might be all kinds of crazy to wait for a man who clearly had no intention of marrying her, but when their engagement was announced, she was going to be devastated.
How could she do this?
‘I thought I’d lost you,’ Alesander said when finally she emerged from the powder room, handing her a fresh glass of wine before walking her slowly towards French windows that led to a terrace overlooking the garden.
‘I would have been back much sooner, but your girlfriend and apparently my new best friend wanted to have a little heart-to-heart with me.’
‘My girlfriend?’
She rolled her eyes. Were there so many of them that he lost track? ‘Ezmerelda, of course.’
‘About the dress?’
She sipped her wine as she stepped out into the balmy night air and a courtyard strung with fairy lights. ‘Words were spoken about the dress, it’s true, although strangely enough the main topic of the conversation was you.’
‘Should I be worried?’
The lights reflected in his eyes, turning them playful. She wanted to smack him.
‘I was warned off you because apparently your families have an “understanding” and you’re practically betrothed. Imagine my surprise.’
He took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth, his hot lips like a brand upon her skin. ‘Imagine Ezmerelda’s surprise when she learns that we are to be married.’
She pulled her hand away, wishing he wouldn’t do that thing with her hand and his mouth. Wishing even more that she didn’t shiver every time he did.
‘You’re not planning on telling her our arrangement is only temporary, then?’
‘Why would I do that?’
‘Why wouldn’t you, if you cared anything for this woman who claims to be the next best thing to your fiancėe? Unless, of course, you don’t care anything for her. Then again, given you’re the man who bought the dress she had reserved for another woman to wear to the same party and then stood back to watch the fireworks, I’d conclude you don’t care much for her at all. I’d even be willing to conclude you don’t even like her.’
He looked around, checking to make sure they were not overheard, before dipping his head and continuing in a low voice that rumbled over her skin. ‘Let’s just say Ezmerelda is not my idea of a happily ever after, whatever our respective mothers may have concocted during their regular coffee mornings.’
She shrugged the stroke of voice on skin away. ‘So you really played me for a fool. You didn’t really need the vines to seal this deal at all, did you?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘That whole “What’s in it for me?” argument of yours was a crock all along. My proposal was just what you needed to get Ezmerelda off your back.’
‘I am quite capable of dealing with Ezmerelda with or without your intervention.’
‘But marrying me does provide you with a handy out. She can’t marry you if you’ve already got a wife. I bet you’re hoping she’s got her talons in someone else before our marriage is over.’
‘I admit there may have been an element of that in my deliberations.’
‘So I didn’t have to sign over the vines at all. There was already plenty in it for you.’
‘But you did sign them over.’
‘But if I’d known about Ezmerelda—’
‘That’s just it,’ he said, downing the rest of his glass and placing it on the tray of a passing waiter. ‘You didn’t.’
She turned away, feeling as if she’d been duped. Worse, she felt used. She’d thought they’d negotiated a deal when he’d held all the cards to begin with. Felipe had told her to watch him and he was right. Alesander was as ruthless as they came.
And it didn’t matter to know that her future waited for her half a world away. A vineyard halfway up a mountain in northern Spain was no good to her as it was, but she could have sold it. Alesander would have bought it, even if it was overgrown and neglected. She could have got something for it. Instead she’d practically given it to him and now she’d be going home as penniless as when she’d arrived.
‘Cheer up,’ he said. ‘You don’t look like you’re having fun.’
‘Oh, I am,’ she lied. ‘I’m having immense fun debating when to confide to my new best friend that all is not lost, that maybe things aren’t as dire as they seem and that she may well still get her man, slightly used but none the worse for wear. But do I tell her before the wedding, or after?’
He bristled. She saw it in the flex of his shoulders and the set of a jaw that had gone from smug to stiff in a heartbeat. ‘You wouldn’t dare risk the news getting out and getting back to Felipe.’
‘You’re right, I wouldn’t. But it was so worth the look on your face to say it.’
‘You have a strange sense of humour, Miss Hamilton.’
‘Miss Hamilton? We are formal, aren’t we? I suspect I must have made you angry for some reason.’
‘On the contrary, but you do have a habit of taking me by surprise at times.’
‘Do I? That’s actually a good thing, isn’t it? It would be awful being stuck together for even ten minutes if we bored each other senseless.’
Oh, there was no chance of that, he thought.
‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I won’t have to tell Ezmerelda anything, because you’re going to tell her that you’re getting married and to someone else first.’
‘What?’
‘Before you make any public announcement of our impending marriage, you will take Ezmerelda aside and let her know that we are getting married. And I don’t care what you think of her or what kind of person she might be, she deserves to hear it from you first. She deserves that much consideration at least.’
Now he was angry. He looked down at her coldly. He wasn’t used to being told what to do, let alone by a pint-sized woman who without her spiky heels barely came up to his shoulder. But, worst of all, he supposed she might actually be right. The last thing they needed when he made the announcement was a scene.
Though he’d wager that wasn’t what was motivating Simone. If he didn’t know better, he’d actually think she felt sorry for Ezmerelda, which made no sense at all, given the way she hadn’t hesitated to warn her off.
And that was something new. As far as he knew, she’d never done that before. Or maybe nobody else had ever been game enough to tell him. This woman was, not to mention game enough to tell him to put her out of her misery as part of the deal. His doorstep bride really was turning out to be a surprise package indeed.
He looked around at the thinning crowd. He’d thought about making the announcement tonight when there were still enough people to witness the news to guarantee its rapid spread, but Simone did have a point. He didn’t want to ruin Markel’s party by creating a scene.
‘Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes?’
She raised one eyebrow in question—a question he chose to ignore. ‘I’ll be fine. And look, here comes Markel.’ The older man joined them, his ruddy cheeks even redder, his greying hair spiking up above one ear. ‘Markel,’ she said, ‘I don’t suppose you could look after me while Alesander runs off to take care of some business?’
‘Gladly,’ he said, looping her arm through his. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure. You can tell me all about Australia. Tell me, is it true they sell wine in cardboard boxes there?’
‘It is true, though it created all sorts of problems in the industry.’
‘Oh,’ he said, all ears. ‘Why is that?’
‘Nobody could work out how to make square grapes.’
It was the lamest attempt at a joke she’d ever made, but Markel roared with laughter, his good birthday humour clearly alcohol assisted.
Remarkable, Alesander thought as he drifted out of earshot, searching the crowd for a familiar face—now she told jokes? What other hidden talents did the woman possess?
There were some that weren’t so much hidden as suggested. Just thinking of her in that dress, there were some he wouldn’t mind having revealed. From the moment he’d arrived to pick her up and seen her wearing it again, the split from toe to thigh over one leg and the bodice wrapped low over her breasts, he’d wanted to do nothing more than to peel it off. He’d stewed the whole way here, wondering how he was going to do just that and still comply with the terms of the agreement. He’d held her close during the tango display, wishing it would go on for ever so he could feel her close to him.
He knew he wasn’t the only man who’d lusted after her tonight. He knew the look and he’d recognised it in other men’s eyes. And just the thought of others thinking the same made his breath growl in his throat. He needed them to know she was his—truly his.
His eyes scanned the ballroom.
So why had he agreed to this no-sex rule? What was the point of it? Forced contraception? They could easily prevent an unwanted pregnancy—people did it all the time.
No, she’d turned up on his doorstep looking like a stray—no wonder he’d agreed to her no sex condition. But that was then.
Now he could see what she’d been hiding under her too big clothes. Now he wanted to see more.
And it wasn’t enough to marry her. He needed to stamp her with his ownership so that everyone would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was his in every sense of the word.
She would agree.
There was no question she would agree.
Because he’d make sure she had no choice.
He caught sight of a familiar flash of colour across the room, heard a familiar laugh and saw greedy eyes turn his way, lighting up when they saw he was alone.
Yes, he looked forward to the coming contract renegotiations with another woman, but first he had a job to do.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE DRESS WAS definitely the problem. Alesander watched her entertaining her circle of admirers and thought he should have let her choose one of the other gowns, as spectacular as they had been. But they had been nothing in comparison with this one, that turned woman into siren, hinting at what lay beneath if one was only reckless enough to try.
He was reckless enough to try.
Maybe if Ezmerelda had worn this dress tonight, nobody would have noticed Simone.
Then she laughed at something Markel had said and he saw the sparkle in her eyes and the warmth in her smile and he knew the dress would have made no difference. It was Simone who made the difference. Maybe the dress caught people’s eye, but it was Simone herself who held their attention. The trouble was, there were too many people taking notice.
Correction—there were too many men.
He’d left her for what? All of fifteen minutes and yet now she was surrounded by them, Markel still there in the midst of them, no doubt wishing he was thirty years younger.
And he knew why they were there.
Because she was beautiful and desirable and they all thought she was his latest plaything and they were lining up for a piece of her when he was done.
And it was his fault. Because he’d never before been seen with a woman on his arm who he wasn’t sleeping with and meaning to dispose of. He’d never before been seen with a woman who wasn’t temporary.
He swallowed back on the bitter taste of bile at the back of his throat. Well, this woman might be temporary but he wasn’t sleeping with her.
Not yet.
But he’d soon fix that.
He made his way across the room towards them, knowing it was right to have decided what he had, already anticipating the pleasures that were to come. Finding a smile came easily, so easily in fact that she looked up at him and frowned and he realised he’d already forgotten about his little chat with Ezmerelda.
That made his smile widen even further.
Anticipation was a fine thing.
There must have been something in his eyes, for the other men drifted away, back to their own women, leaving only Markel, who snagged his arm as soon as he came close. ‘You are a lucky man, Alesander. Simone is not only a beautiful woman, but she is clever and entertaining. Promise me you will not deprive us of her company in the future.’
‘You’re in luck, Markel, as it happens,’ he said, sliding a proprietorial arm around Simone, who looked more confused than ever. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything—it is your birthday celebration after all, but there will be another party very soon and one to which you’re invited, because a little earlier tonight Simone agreed to become my wife.’
‘Your wife?’ Markel blinked his surprise. ‘But this is wonderful news!’
‘I hoped you’d think so. I know Isobel and your wife had other plans.’
Markel waved the younger man’s concerns away before laying his hand on Alesander’s shoulder. ‘As much as I would love to have you as my son-in-law, it was clear to me it was never going to happen. There was never any spark between you two. I tried to tell Ezmerelda that.’ He shrugged. ‘She chose not to listen. Her mother had put all kinds of fanciful notions into her head and she preferred to believe those.’
‘I’ve already spoken to her tonight to let her know before she heard via other means.’
‘Bueno. That was thoughtful of you.’ Markel sighed wistfully. ‘And perhaps it is good you are getting married because now she will forget her foolish dreams and finally see that there are other men in the world. I can only hope.
‘As for you two,’ he said, taking both their hands in his meaty hand, ‘I wish you every success and many, many fine sons.’
‘How did Ezmerelda take it?’ she asked when they were in the car and heading towards Getaria. ‘Was it rough?’
He changed gears to take a bend, the car sticking to the road like glue. ‘She cried.’
‘Oh.’
‘And then she pleaded.’
‘Ah.’
‘And then she wished us all the best in our married life.’ He didn’t tell her the rest, that she’d said she’d noticed they had a connection from the moment she’d seen them together and that was why she’d followed Simone to warn her off, because she’d never before felt so threatened. There were some things that sat uncomfortably with him. There were some things that Simone didn’t need to know.
‘That was nice of her, in the circumstances.’
‘Sí, but it was good of you to think of telling her. That would not have occurred to me. It shows a generous spirit.’
She laughed at that. ‘I don’t know about that. I just wish we didn’t have to deceive everyone this way. I never thought it would be so complicated. I was thinking only of Felipe when I came up with this plan and I never realised other people might get hurt by it. Like Markel. He’s a nice man. I like him.’
‘Markel is a good man.’
‘I’m truly sorry he’s going to be disappointed.’
‘You mean because of the marriage ending?’
‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘But also because of all those fine sons you’re not going to have.’
He smiled. He was in too good a mood not to. Tomorrow he would ask Felipe for Simone’s hand in marriage. He didn’t expect the old man to be happy about it, but he’d come around, just as soon as he realised it would mean the Otxoa family fortunes finally shifting in the right direction.
And then, as soon as he’d secured his agreement, he’d tell Simone he was changing the terms. She might not like it—no, more like it, she would hate it—but by then it would be too late.
And she would be his, in every sense of the word.
‘What’s the rush?’ demanded Felipe at lunch the next day. ‘You barely know each other.’
The three of them were sitting outside, the table set under an ancient pergola creaking under the weight of overgrown vines, sunlight filtering through the dense forest of leaves while far below them the sunlight turned the sea sparkling. Alesander had come over ostensibly to do some more work on the vines when she’d lured Felipe outside to enjoy the mild weather while it lasted. Over lunch, after they’d shared a bottle of last season’s Txakolina wine that she was beginning to acquire a taste for, Felipe pouring it from a great height into tumblers to give life to the bubbles and clearly enjoying himself. And after lunch Alesander had asked Felipe for permission to marry her.
‘Sometimes you just know, Abuelo.’ Simone had expected the request to come as a shock and it had. Felipe’s initial prejudices towards Alesander were softening each and every time he visited, she could tell, but there were still too many decades of rivalry between the neighbouring families to be calmly put aside.
‘But marriage? Already?’
‘It’s not so soon. It will still take a month for the paperwork to be processed. The wedding won’t take place until after harvest.’
He frowned. ‘Do you love her?’ he asked Alesander pointedly.
Simone winced. More lies, she thought, hating it. How many lies would they have to tell before this was over?
Except Alesander seemed unfazed. He took her hand in his, covering it with his other, while his eyes held hers, dark and rich and so deep a person could drown in their depths. ‘I admit, I did not expect this to happen. But Simone blew into my life and how could I not love her, Felipe? She is very special. One of a kind. How could I let her slip through my fingers?’
There was no stopping the bloom of heat in her cheeks. She smiled, deeply touched that he would take the trouble to find the words to put Felipe at his ease.
‘I thought you wanted the vines,’ he said, and there was a tear in his eye. ‘I thought you were looking to take the rest of them away from me. But it is my granddaughter who brings you here day after day.’
Alesander looked at his feet and Simone knew she had to fill the silence. ‘We want you to be there at our wedding, Abuelo. I was hoping you would agree to give me away.’
Her grandfather puffed up before her eyes, blinking away the moisture. ‘And you think I won’t be there to walk my only granddaughter down the aisle on her wedding day? Of course I will be there.’
He lifted his empty tumbler in his bony claw-like hand. ‘More wine,’ he demanded. ‘This calls for a toast!’
‘Thank you for that.’
She’d walked Alesander to his car, their lunch over, Felipe snoozing under the vine covered canopy.
‘For what?’
‘For putting Felipe’s mind at ease about us getting married. When he asked you if you loved me, I thought the game was up.’
He cocked one eyebrow, one side of his mouth turned up. ‘You imagined I would simply say no?’
‘I didn’t know what you would say.’
He took her hands in his and she thought nothing of it, given they were still in sight of the house if Felipe happened to wake up and see them. Besides, she was getting to like the feeling of him touching her. If only because that meant she was getting used to it and that made the pretence easier to pull off. ‘It was not hard to think of words I could say about you. It is true you are one of a kind, and you definitely blew into my life by turning up on my doorstep with your crazy proposal. And how could I let you slip through my fingers when you had such a juicy incentive?’ He paused and looked out over the sparkling sea. ‘Felipe was right all along about that.’
‘He doesn’t think so now.’
‘No. And hopefully he will never find out.’
‘I know. I feel bad about the lies. But it’s worth it. You can see how happy this has made him. For the first time he has something to look forward to. He’s smiling again. Thank you so much for not only agreeing to this, but for actually going to the trouble of making him believe it.’
He looked back at her and smiled, squeezing her hands to tug her a little closer as he dipped his head towards hers. She held her breath as his mouth came closer; held her breath as she wondered whether he would kiss her—and whether she should let him—it wouldn’t mean anything after all, just a token gesture and probably meant for Felipe’s benefit in case he was watching and so why should she stop him?
And then he kissed her forehead and breath rushed out of her on a whoosh.
From relief, she told herself. Not disappointment, despite that sudden inexplicable pang in her chest.
Except he didn’t let her go. His lips lingered on her forehead, she felt his breath fan against her skin and he let one hand go, only to take her chin in his fingers as slowly he pulled away, tilting up her head at the same time.
Her eyes met his and held. ‘I have to kiss you,’ he said, ‘but properly this time and, I warn you, it may take some time.’
‘For Felipe’s benefit?’ she managed to say. ‘In case he is watching.’
He growled, the corners of his mouth turning up the tiniest fraction. ‘For my benefit.’
If such a confession wasn’t enough to make her senses sing, the sensation of his lips meshing with hers was. Her breath hitched again at their impact, before she was assailed by the feel of his mouth against hers and the sheer complexity of it all—the unexpected contrast of lips that felt so warm and yielding and yet came from a face that could have been sculpted from stone. And the way he tasted … a heated blend of the wine they’d shared at lunch with coffee and all overlaid on the flavour of his own hot mouth.
He was addictive.
He was incendiary.
Her heart rate kicked up as she felt his hand draw her closer and she let herself be drawn as his tongue searched out hers and invited it into a dance—a dance that soon turned into a heated frenzy that had her temperature soaring and her heart beating even faster and her flesh throbbing in secret places situated a long way geographically from her mouth.
If the man knew nothing else, he sure knew how to kiss. Every place they touched seemed hyper-aware—her breasts jammed close to his chest, her hips hard against his thighs, her legs interwoven with his.
It was far more than any kiss she’d ever experienced.
And it was the last thing she’d wanted, but right now it made it too damned good to leave.
Instead it was Alesander who pulled away suddenly, putting her at arm’s length, leaving her mouth hungry and desperately seeking his. Desperately seeking more. He was breathing hard, but she was breathing harder, and struggling hard to show she was not as affected as she was.
Failing miserably.
‘We need to plan,’ he said, his breathing choppy and desperate against her face. ‘Are you taking precautions?’
For a kiss? Now she had to struggle with the meaning behind his words. She wasn’t sure she’d heard right. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Are you on the Pill? Do you call it that where you come from—the contraceptive pill?’
She eased away. Even managed to laugh a little, while she put distance between them, though nowhere near enough to let him go completely. She wasn’t ready for that yet and, besides, he was showing no intention of letting her go any time soon. ‘What business is that of yours?’
‘Because we will need precautions.’
‘Against—what exactly? We’ve agreed we’re not having sex. Why would we need precautions?’
‘Because I’ve changed my mind. I’m not marrying you and not having sex with you.’
This time she found the strength to shove him away. ‘No! You signed a contract! We both signed a contract. We agreed there would be no sex.’
‘And I’m renegotiating the terms.’
‘You can’t do that. It’s too late.’
‘Of course I can. I don’t like the terms and I’m changing them.’
‘And I refuse to agree to your changed terms. There will be no sex in our marriage.’
‘And I say there will.’
‘What? And you think you can make me? I don’t think so. I’m not changing anything. I don’t want it.’
‘Are you sure of that? I just got the impression you would quite happily have had me, right here, right up against the car next to the vines if I hadn’t stopped, and you would have let me.’
Shock forced her jaw wide open. ‘You imagine this because I let you kiss me just now?’
‘You did more than let me kiss you. Your body told me it wanted me.’
‘You flatter yourself,’ she said, shaking her head, in denial because she had to be. He had felt good, it was true. Maybe very good. But he could not know what she had been thinking. ‘You’re wrong. I don’t want you. Sure, we shared a kiss, and maybe it was okay, but it was only for Felipe’s benefit.’
‘Now who’s kidding themselves? You weren’t thinking about Felipe when I kissed you.’
‘That doesn’t mean we’re having sex. There’s no way I want sex with you. No way at all.’
‘Fine.’ He took a step back from her. ‘I must have been mistaken. If that’s the way you want it, I will go back up there and tell Felipe this marriage is off.’
‘What? Why? I don’t understand. You make one arrangement and then you insist on another? You can’t do that to him! How could you do that after everything we’ve done? Felipe believes it now. He believes we’re getting married. He thinks he’s walking me down the aisle. How could you do this to him?’
‘How could I do that to him?’ he said. ‘No. You should be asking how you could do this to him. You’re the one suddenly wanting to deny him his happy ending.’
He was shifting the blame onto her? ‘I can’t believe you’re doing this. Though maybe I should, because Felipe warned me from the very start that I should be careful. He said you were an Esquivel and that I shouldn’t trust you, that you would be ruthless. I should have listened to him all along.’
‘Maybe you should have.’
His cold, hard words floored her. Where was the man who had sucked her into his kiss, and whose heat had damned near melted her flesh? Where was that man? Had he been an entire fiction? She felt sick just thinking about how much she’d wanted him. ‘I hate you. I don’t think I’ve ever hated you more than in this moment.’
‘That’s fine. I told you I wasn’t nice. Hating me will make it so much easier when you leave.’