The Latin Lover

by Lucy Monroe

  ‘Marry you?’ His hands wrapped their warmth around hers as his words found their way into her heart. ‘I…I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Say yes,’ he said, wrapping her in his arms before dipping his mouth to hers.

  CHAPTER NINE

  HAPPINESS was infinitely better, she decided, when you were coming from the depths of despair. She hummed to herself as she removed the last few things from the wardrobe and folded them into her suitcase. Colours were brighter, the air was sweeter, and nothing and nobody could make her feel bad.

  And love? Love was the most wondrous thing of all, shiny and precious, a gift from the gods.

  As Alejandro surely was.

  And Alejandro loved her.

  Life couldn’t get any more perfect.

  Her skin felt so good it glowed, and her body still hummed from their latest encounter. He’d brought her back to their rooms and filled a spa bath for two, and let her know just how much he loved her. And the suspicion, fed by his veiled hints, that he’d gone downstairs in search of something to formalise their new relationship, made her senses buzz.

  The phone rang and she answered it to hear Alejandro’s richly accented voice greet her. Even that was enough to trigger a jump in her pulse-rate.

  ‘Meet me downstairs in the lobby,’ he told her. ‘There’s something I want to show you.’

  There was a jeweller’s store in the lobby. A very expensive, very exclusive jewellery store. Her heart skipped a beat. It was real. Alejandro loved her and wanted to marry her. It wasn’t just a dream. It was happening.

  She wasted no time getting to the lift, punching the button, bubbling over with joy, hardly able to wait to see Alejandro again. But the lift halted on the very next floor, its doors sliding open.

  Catalina stood there on the brink, dressed for cocktails in a low-cut dress that made the most of her considerable assets. Leah shrank back to the wall as she entered, noting that the woman didn’t bother with a smile this time.

  ‘Well, well,’ she said, punching the button for the mezzanine restaurant level. ‘If it isn’t our seamstress. I thought you would have run off home by now, with your tail between your legs.’

  ‘And why would I do that?’

  ‘Once Alejandro spat you out, what else could you do?’

  Leah turned away, preferring to stare at the floor numbers displayed, wishing them to fall faster. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Then obviously he hasn’t done it yet. But don’t take it too hard. You did walk out on him. It’s only natural a man like Alejandro would feel the need to get even.’

  She flashed her eyes back at the older woman, who was busy pretending to check the paint job on her nails. ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it? Then why do you think he bothered to look you up while he was here, if it wasn’t for the chance to take his revenge? Do you think he actually enjoys slumming it with you?’

  A sliver of fear worked its way down Leah’s spine. She didn’t believe the woman for a moment, but he had been so angry when he’d turned up that day at her Sydney shop. Angry, and determined not to take no for an answer. Prepared to blackmail her back into his bed if that was what it took. Prepared to humiliate her into the deal.

  But that had been before. He would not have come back to her at all unless he loved her; Leah believed that with all her heart. She had to believe it. That was her trump card, and it was going to blow Catalina’s bitchy efforts to pull her down sky-high.

  ‘I don’t know why you’d say such things, Catalina, other than because you’ve always made it plain you don’t consider me good enough for your brother. So be it. But you’re way off base. Alejandro loves me. And he’s asked me to marry him. I’m on my way right now to meet him, to choose an engagement ring.’

  The Spanish woman’s eyes grew wider, as if she were strangely delighted with the news. ‘He loves you?’ She moved closer conspiratorially, until perfumed air surrounded Leah like a poisoned cloud. ‘Then you really are a fool. Alejandro is going to marry Francesca de la Renta. Their betrothal is to be announced the minute he sets foot back in Spain.’

  Francesca de la Renta.

  She remembered seeing the fine-boned hotel heiress at various functions she’d attended with Alejandro. She was petite and pretty, with big doe eyes, and her father had accompanied her everywhere, almost as if he were guarding her.

  And she remembered hearing her name that first night, when Catalina had been hissing some Spanish poison at Alejandro. Had she been reminding him of his obligations then? Maybe that explained Catalina’s aggression towards her, if she thought her brother was risking a connection between two powerful families. Hotels and casinos. What would be a better match? But for Alejandro to toy with her when he was already thinking about marriage with another—it was unthinkable.

  ‘Then why would he ask me to marry him?’ Try as she might, it proved impossible to ask the question and still keep the defensive quality out of her voice.

  ‘Who knows? He was planning to ditch you today.’ Catalina gave a shrug. ‘Maybe he didn’t think you were ready.’

  Ice-cold fingers crawled down her back, needle-sharp and determined to do damage. ‘What do you mean, ready?’

  Catalina stepped back against the wall of the lift and watched the display, as if bored with the conversation. ‘Maybe he wanted to suck you further in, to make you really believe in fairytales, before he dumped you and smashed those silly dreams of yours to pieces. Oh, at last—my floor. Choose something expensive, won’t you? It may be your last chance.’

  The woman was evil, a total bitch, but, whatever the truth, Leah couldn’t let her go thinking she’d had the final word. ‘Alejandro isn’t like that,’ she countered, her words as shaky as her legs. ‘He would never do that to me.’

  Catalina turned her head and gave a knowing smile. ‘And yet it seems he already has.’

  The lift doors closed, blotting out the vision of the woman’s snide smile, but nothing could blot out the damage her toxic words had wreaked.

  What she’d said of Alejandro, it was too ugly to contemplate. But could Catalina be right? Could Alejandro’s talk of love and marriage be just more lies to suck her in? Could he be so hell-bent on revenge that he would do that to her simply because she’d walked out on him?

  With a shiver his words came back to her—the words he’d uttered with such frustration on the beach, when she’d asked him why it mattered why she’d left him, because he would have grown tired of her some day.

  ‘That was my decision to make!’

  Had it really mattered so much to him? Had her leaving him enraged him to such a degree that he would pursue her, trap her into coming back to him, simply so he could in turn dump her?

  It didn’t seem possible.

  But what else had Catalina said—that he had planned to finish with her today? And her comments on the launch about Leah enjoying her last day—what had they been but a hint of her doom? And Alejandro had done nothing to deny it. Nothing!

  But then Leah had got in first, asking him to release her from their deal and foiling his plans to dump her.

  The lift bumped gently to a halt, and with a shudder it hit her. He hadn’t told her he loved her until she’d told him she was leaving him—again. So he’d upped the stakes, telling her the only thing he’d known would reach her, the only thing that would lure her back to him so that he could complete his plan for revenge.

  Alejandro’s marriage proposal was a sham. Just as his love was clearly a sham. Surely his reaction to her confession as to why she’d left him was proof enough of that? He hadn’t been ready to hear her declaration of love. He’d been shocked senseless by it, his revulsion at the very concept apparent. So he was hardly in any position to declare his own.

  Numb and shell-shocked, she stepped out into the lobby. She turned her head and caught her Spaniard standing there, his back to her, as he scanned the busy lobby, waiting impatiently as ever for her to arrive.r />
  No, she corrected herself, not her Spaniard. He had never really been her Spaniard. Only in her dreams. And those dreams had been proved to be just that. Dreams. Empty bubbles. Bubbles that had now been well and truly pricked.

  And if happiness was better when you were coming from the depths of despair, then despair was ten times deeper when you were coming from the dizzy heights where she’d been such a short time ago. Such dizzy heights. Such a long, long way down.

  Blindly she turned to go back the way she’d come. But the lift doors had closed behind her, the elevator gone. Another opened alongside, spilling its jovial passengers into the warm Caloundra evening.

  In a panic to get away unseen, she dived in after them, punching the ‘close doors’ button for all it was worth.

  Back in the apartment the last few things were thrown into her suitcase, organisation swept aside in her desire to get out of there as soon as she could. It was still early enough. She could be away and gone from Caloundra before nightfall. There had to be a flight to somewhere she could take. Anywhere would do. Anywhere that took her away from Alejandro…

  The phone beside the bed rang. She stopped, the suitcase zipper only halfway around its track. If that was Alejandro, down in the lobby wondering where she was, then she still had time to get away. She ignored the ringing phone, snapped closed the bag and left the apartment, aiming for the stairwell rather than the lift without a second glance. She had never belonged here with him. Never.

  It was just as well she’d discovered the truth now—before she’d gone with him, before she’d believed his lies. Because she’d wanted to believe them. With all her heart and all her soul. And Catalina, for all her faults, was right about one thing. It would have hurt her more than ever to arrive in Madrid and discover that Alejandro’s proposal had been nothing but a sham.

  She was gone. The apartment was empty—of her, of her clothes, of her suitcase. Every last trace of her was gone.

  And the roar that erupted from his lungs consumed every last place she’d been.

  She couldn’t be gone.

  Not now.

  Not again!

  She had left him not once but twice. Walked out on him for a second time. And for a second time the rage threatened to consume him, the fury that she could do this to him turning his blood to steam.

  How could she do that to him now? After he’d told her he loved her. After he’d asked her to marry him. What kind of woman did that?

  In a moment of clarity, a tiny glimmer of hope amongst the rage, he phoned Reception. Maybe he was wrong? Maybe he’d missed her and she was waiting for him downstairs? Maybe there was an explanation for her missing luggage? Only to be told that she’d taken a car to the airport ten minutes ago. His fury intensified, spreading like a cancer through his body, turning solid in his gut.

  Somehow she’d eluded him. Somehow she’d avoided him. Clearly that had been her intention.

  He strode out onto the terrace, his hands closing tight on the railing while the endless ocean rolled in below, crashing in waves upon the shore before sucking out again.

  She’d done that. She’d come into his life like a wave, beauty and form in motion, before crashing over him, all energy and power and passion.

  And then she’d left, sucking him dry.

  Nobody walked out on Alejandro Rodriguez. Not business tycoons or CEOs or poker-faced politicians. And definitely not women. But Leah Mitchell had. Twice.

  And he would not give her the opportunity to do it again.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE sky over the Sunshine Coast Airport was clear and blue and went on for ever. Alejandro’s mood was dark and foul, and began and ended in the same black hole. His team sensed it, keeping their distance, keeping their voices low around him, as if not to provoke his wrath.

  This short flight to Brisbane to connect with their international flight was an inconvenience he didn’t need. Catalina’s late arrival for the flight even more so. He wanted to be gone from this place and this country as soon as possible. Gone from the memories and the pain. Until the casino opened he would not have to return, and that would be at least eighteen months away. He would not miss it.

  Finally a car pulled alongside the plane, and he watched his sister emerge, unhurried, the cabin attendant holding a stash of shopping bags and ushering her up the stairs. At last.

  ‘What took you so long?’ he growled as Catalina took the seat across the aisle, a cloud of scent following her.

  ‘A girl has to shop,’ she said with a shrug as she did up her safety belt. ‘I couldn’t go home without a gift for Papá.’

  He grumbled his displeasure. A new casino wasn’t gift enough?

  ‘Oh,’ she said, scanning the seats up and down the plane, ‘we seem to be missing somebody.’

  ‘No,’ he grunted, as they finally closed the door, wishing they were already gone. ‘Nobody.’

  He could feel her eyes on him, feel their false pity. ‘Never mind. I’m sure it’s all for the best.’

  He shifted in his seat, turned his gaze out of the window. Dios! What was taking so long? Why couldn’t this plane just take off?

  Someone answered his prayers. The whine of the engines grew louder; the plane started crawling towards the runway.

  ‘It wasn’t like you were really going to marry her.’

  His head swung around, something live crawling under his skin. ‘What did you say?’

  She gave a thin laugh, looking suddenly uncomfortable. ‘Just stating the obvious.’

  ‘What do you know of it? How do you know we even talked of marriage?’

  She was shaking her head. ‘Alejandro, what is this? She must have mentioned something. I can’t remember the details.’

  ‘You saw her? Leah told you? When?’

  The only time they’d been apart he’d been in the jewellry store, selecting a ring he thought she’d love, and the last time he’d spoken to her she had been on her way down to meet him. Something had happened between that phone call and her leaving. And with a chill he realised that that something had to be Catalina.

  ‘What did you tell her?’

  Sydney’s city air was heavy and dull after Caloundra, the traffic and grime a stark contrast. His car double-parked outside her shop and he jumped out, his heart thudding, his blood rushing like an express train. She had to be here!

  He swung open the door of the empty shop, the tinkling bell above heralding his arrival. ‘Leah?’ he called.

  A small, wiry woman emerged from behind a curtain, a cup of tea in one hand, the teabag’s tag dangling over the rim, a spoon in the other.

  ‘Where’s Leah?’

  She eyed him suspiciously. ‘She’s gone away. I’m not sure when she’ll be back. Can I help you with something?’

  The blood in his veins turned to mud. He’d come here first, thinking she’d flee to somewhere safe. But if she’d gone somewhere else…‘Do you know where she’s gone?’

  Her eyes narrowed. ‘You’re not one of our regulars, are you?’

  The door behind him opened and stayed open. He turned and froze.

  ‘No,’ the newcomer said, her voice flat. ‘He’s not one of our regulars.’

  Her eyes were dark-rimmed and suspicious, her skin pale, her clothes assembled as if she didn’t care—and yet still she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. ‘Leah.’

  She let the door fall shut, skirting the wall of the tiny shop to avoid getting anywhere near him, setting a course for the older woman. ‘Sorry, Beryl. I had a sudden change of plans. I tried to call your flat to let you know not to bother coming in today, but only got the answer machine.’

  ‘It’s lucky you turned up when you did. This bloke was just asking for you.’

  Sheer dumb luck. He was the last person she’d expected to see any time soon—the last person she wanted to see ever. ‘You don’t have to stay if you’d rather go.’

  The older woman gathered up her bag without hesitation. ‘Only if you’re su
re? But I could use the time…’

  Leah assured her she’d be fine. Besides, she didn’t want anyone here to witness whatever was going to happen next.

  The door closed with a click, and the tinkle of the bell finally died away.

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘I came to find you.’

  ‘Well, congratulations. You found me. And now you can do me a favour and just unfind me.’

  He took a step closer. ‘Leah—’

  But she held up one hand. ‘Don’t you understand, Spaniard? I just want you to go!’

  ‘And I want you back.’

  ‘Why? So you can dump me, the way you planned? So you can exact your revenge on me for daring to leave you?’

  ‘Leah, it wasn’t like that.’

  ‘Wasn’t it? You mean you didn’t come back here and blackmail me back into your bed specifically so you could dump me when you were through?’

  He turned his head to the ceiling. ‘Mierda! I was so wrong. But I was crazy. Nobody had ever walked out on me before. And I wanted you so badly.’

  ‘Only so you could pay me back. When the Caloundra deal came up, it provided you with the perfect opportunity. You could exact your revenge and have your night-time entertainment taken care of at the same time. How convenient.’

  ‘It wasn’t like that.’

  ‘I think we both know that’s a lie.’

  He put his hands atop his head, then brought them down in a rush, holding them out in supplication towards her. ‘I’m not proud of what I did. But don’t you see? I had to get you back.’

  ‘And you couldn’t drop me a line and tell me you missed me or ask me to reconsider?’

  ‘You must understand. I am a proud man, and you had struck at my very core by walking out on me. Some questions I find hard to ask, especially when I suspect the answer will be no, and, given the vehemence of your exit, how could I expect you to say anything else? I had to find a way to convince you to say yes.’