by MK Meredith
An image of London and some American man with his flannel shirt and Levi jeans curled up on a couch talking about their future popped into his head. He stretched out his legs and crossed them at the ankles to keep from losing himself in a tirade, listing every reason she shouldn’t leave, that she shouldn’t date anyone but him.
He could no longer deny the emotion constantly itching at him just under the surface. It was the whole reason her betrayal hurt so damn bad. He’d fallen for the sweet, sexy American with her intelligence, wit, and honeyed skin.
And then she’d torn him in two.
It was as clear as it had ever been. She wasn’t there for him, but for his family.
As great as that was, it wasn’t enough.
“I think you’re right. There is no other way.”
Glancing away from the look in her eyes, back toward the guest room, he set his jaw. His father rested quietly, and his mother sat on the edge of the bed, slowly running her fingers over his temple.
He needed someone who’d be there for him.
Chapter Eighteen
Mateu yanked the lemons from the tree, then threw them with such force at the basket, they bounced back out onto the ground. His father would get another concussion from simply seeing his babies being treated so carelessly, but Mateu needed a way to drive out the pain in his chest.
London’s help hadn’t lessened his anger, his hurt. She’d been using him for his money from day one. Just like every other woman he’d ever cared for.
Anything else, he could handle. Using him for his contacts, for his position, to get better accommodations at the hotel, but his personal bank account? She’d get the vacation of her dreams then hop on a plane and head home?
And who knows, she might have been seeing someone else the whole time she was here. He hurled another lemon. Hòstia tu!
He shook his head. That thought was unfair, but it was hard to be fair when his heart seemed to be beating, bloody and broken, outside of his body.
“Estimat, what are you doing?” His mother called out in Catalan as she hurried toward the tree. “It is getting late. Where’s London?”
“I sent her back with my driver.” He hopped down from the ladder, landing in front of her. “She’s just another Clara.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he picked up the fruit he’d thrown, this time carefully placing it in the woven basket.
“I don’t believe that at all.”
He swung around. “She confessed to me Friday night at dinner that she’d been using me for my money. To fund her vacation.”
His mother lifted a lemon then held it to her nose. On an inhale, she smiled. “Smells so fresh, so pure…but the juice is a powerful acid. It can be used to help, but it can also cause damage.”
Lifting the basket, he asked, “Mother, I know just about everything there is to know about lemons, so why are you telling me this?”
She chuckled as she picked up a stray lemon he’d missed. “You were always so impatient with my stories; it’s nice when some things don’t change. Even annoying things.”
He scowled.
“The familiarity is a rare pleasure when so much changes so quickly in life.” She studied him as he placed the large basket on the back of a wooden trailer bed pulled by a tractor. “My point, estimat, is that there is so much more to the lemon than the obvious. But it takes patience, curiosity, and passion to learn what lies beneath the pretty yellow rind.”
She walked up to him then tugged him down to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Let’s go sit in the courtyard. You tell me what happened.”
What happened was the woman he so foolishly fell in love with used him for his money—again. He shook his head. “I need to finish. I promised Antoni I’d take care of a few things before heading back to the hotel. Since I don’t see London giving us the review as planned, I’ll be on a plane for headquarters in the next day or two.” He absently shoved his fingers through his hair.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not asking, especially now.”
The same sensation of being in trouble from decades ago filled him—a tight heavy ball that sat right in the center of his chest, making him restless but too scared to move. He hated disappointing his parents.
Following her into the back courtyard, he cracked his neck. His parents had always demanded respect, and he and his siblings never forgot it.
Margarida came out with a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses.
His mother settled on the couch and patted the cushion next to her. “What do you mean, the review? Is this something you’d asked her for?”
Dread replaced the heavy ball. “Not exactly.”
“Then how were you to get this review? Magic?”
He’d purposefully kept any talk of business over the past years as light as possible. His parents didn’t need the rundown of the not-so-clean side of his actions lately. But apparently, he didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut when his chest had been ripped open.
He wracked his brain trying to remember all the events over the past week. There’d been a few times she’d asked him questions that had frozen him in place, but then she’d moved along like nothing was amiss. It was easy to see each test for what it was.
But she’d needed him for his money. She didn’t need him. So she continued to play the game, and played it well.
That’s what hurt most of all.
The silly future he’d been imagining between them was for fools. Leaning back into the cushions of the couch, he faced his mother head on. “I’m trying to set my schedule to work part time from home, to stay in Barcelona so I can help you and Dad. You need me. The only way I could do that was by showing a particular hotel reviewer such an amazing time at our hotel and Barcelona that her only course of action would be a great review.” His eyes fell to the pavers beneath his feet. “My plan was to make it impossible for her to give anything but five stars.”
She shook her head. “Aren’t reviewers’ identities anonymous?”
“My assistant informed me of London’s identity, and it seemed like the perfect solution to make sure I’d be able to work remotely and stay in Barcelona. The orchard’s contract could even have been threatened. Basically, if I could pull this off—even with the distractions of being home—and show it wouldn’t impact the hotel’s bottom line, I’d be able to make a clean-cut case for my request.”
The reality of it all hit him as each word slid from his mouth. Guilt dropped a heavy weight in his gut. Saying it out loud to his mother made his deceit all the more shameful. He’d known this was wrong from the beginning, yet he willingly played along to meet his own bottom line. Who, exactly, did he think he was better than?
He’d been the ass from the beginning. What right did he have to judge London? Hypocrite didn’t even begin to describe his current behavior. Love was making him lose himself. No wonder so many people tried to avoid the affliction.
“Mateu.” The censure in her voice tightened the vise already gripping the back of his neck. Shame and guilt were not comfortable companions. “I can’t believe you would stoop to this level. My pride in you is for how hard you work, not for taking the easy way. Besides, we don’t want you home unless it’s through your own hard work. We’ve taught you nothing, if not that. It’s what we’ve built our lives around.”
“It was supposed to be harmless. A little wining and dining, then sending her on her way back to America.”
“But you fell in love.”
“No.” He shoved up from the couch. “Yes.” His shoulders slumped. “She isn’t like the others.”
She smiled. “I know. I just wondered how long it would take you to see it.”
“Her mother has MS. Even if London hadn’t used me, if it had worked out between us, she could never leave her mother. Just as I could never leave you.”
“Hmm…I see. I want you to think about something. You love a woman who had the strength to confess her mistake to you. A strength, by the sound of it, that you yourself didn’t have.”
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“What? How can you—”
She stood and moved to stand before him.
“She told you what she did. She shared private, painful information about her mother with you. None of that could have been easy. She wasn’t discovered. She cared enough about you to risk everything and tell you the truth. Did you care enough for her to listen? Did you show the same strength?”
“No, I threw money at her then left.” He cracked his neck on one side then the other.
“And yet, she came with you today?”
“But that was for you, for Dad.”
“Estimat, there is no us for her without you.” She caressed the side of his cheek. “You’ve gotten away with so much, using your smooth charm and charisma. I think you’ve avoided emotions for so long now, you don’t recognize the true, deep ones when they are in front of you. A strong woman such as London is exactly what you need.”
With a small squeeze to his shoulder, she turned to go inside. “I’m going to check on your father. You better hope he doesn’t learn about how you were throwing the lemons around.” She held his gaze with the look in her eyes that always made him feel as if she loved him the most. “I want you to do me a favor.”
He nodded. “You know I’ll do anything for you.”
“Get me the contact information for London’s mother.”
Shaking his head, he stepped toward her.
“And estimat, remember, there is always more beneath the pretty lemon rind.”
Felip came running out as his mother went in. “Tiet Mateu!” As was his way, he launched himself through the air, trusting that Mateu would catch him.
“Hola, Felip. It’s late. You should be in bed.” He hugged him tight.
“Where’s Senyoreta London?” The plane in his hand appeared to fly a figure eight in front of Mateu’s chest.
“She’s back at the hotel.” He paused, looking up at the moon and stars. “Or should be by now.”
“I like her.”
He ruffled his nephew’s hair. “Why do you like her?”
Felip looked at him as if he’d knocked a few lemons loose. “Because she loves us.”
Mateu shook his head. “How could you know that?”
“That’s easy. She plays with me, and her eyes smile.” Felip hopped down, taking off toward the kitchen.
Mateu dropped back to the couch then laced his hands behind his head. There was a sparkle in London’s green eyes when she was amused and a glint when she was angry. But when she looked at him, there was something softer, almost fluid, as if her emotions poured out from her right into him.
He loved her. The way she overthought every moment, the way she never backed away when he moved in to her, the way she loved his family from the first moment she’d met them. And he counted the minutes until the next time he made her laugh.
Could there be more to the story?
Even if there wasn’t, did the fact she’d found the strength to confess, a strength he himself hadn’t shown, mean there was enough for them to move forward?
At the very least, he owed her a conversation. One where she could explain what happened, and one where he could apologize.
He pushed to the edge of the couch, wracking his brain to remember every conversation they’d shared. Collons.
Now that he was faced with the reality that he loved her, the one woman who could keep him on his toes, challenge his sense of entitlement, and push him to want to be better…
He may have lost her forever.
His agenda from the very beginning, since he’d set up the little dipper at the train station, was to get her to sing to his tune. It would be a wonder if she didn’t hate him already after he’d thrown the euros in her face, and especially after the things he’d said.
But he needed to try. He felt something with her he’d never experienced before. Contentment. A need to touch and be touched.
Dare he think it?
To be truly loved.
She was the future he never knew he wanted.
A future he now wanted to fight for. Had to fight for.
His family needed him in Barcelona. And he needed London.
Now he just had to figure out how to make two impossibilities possible.
Mateu might have lost his mind, but at least he could keep his integrity.
Senyor Huntington and his daughter had arrived late Sunday night but still met him first thing in the morning. The chief executive of the Huntington franchise hadn’t been happy with the rundown of the past week, but if the surprise in the old man’s face was any indication, he was even less happy with Mateu’s resignation.
Mateu looked from Huntington to his daughter, Chase, with her jet-black pixie cut and big brown eyes. She was the epitome of class in her designer dress and Louis Vuittons. The work she’d done on the new boutique hotel in Italy, Huntington House, had spread like wildfire, and now word on the street was they were considering opening five more in Europe.
“Thank you for your time. I just wish it was spent sharing better news,” he said.
Huntington pushed from the table. “I know this company inside and out. The changes rolled out last year were hit-and-miss, but necessary all the same. Why didn’t you come to me with all of this before?”
“It would have looked like I was making excuses. And because I wanted to approach you with working remotely part time. I couldn’t do that after our rating slipped. After we’d been so close to making the Hotel of Fame list.”
Chase walked over to the conference bar. “Anyone want a drink?” She gave a concerned look to Mateu. “This meeting couldn’t have been easy.”
Huntington snorted. “And you know something about that, don’t you, coconut.”
“Dad.” She cast him a threatening glare, but the tilt to her lips made it all affection and no censure.
Mateu smiled, some of his tension rolling from his shoulders.
Huntington handed him a glass. “Look, son. I don’t like what’s happened here. London Montgomery has been with Elite Travel & Life Magazine for years, working her way up, putting in the hours. In all that time, no one’s ever identified her as L.M. Cipriano. Now, thanks to you, her very livelihood could be put in jeopardy. I admire such work ethic and can’t stomach the idea that we might have damaged it. In the end, this is my business. And I didn’t act soon enough. As it is, I have to go investigate some rumblings at our resort in Paris. After this, I shudder to think about what I’ll uncover.”
“I wish I could go back, sir. I don’t want to see Miss Montgomery hurt in any way, either. She’s a strong, smart woman who was grossly manipulated from the beginning. And from what I understand, she needs this assignment. So whatever she rates the hotel, I’m hoping we can let her finish her job. I’ll pay the price.”
Chase stepped up next to her father, and they both considered him with very serious twin expressions.
“We need to kill the paper trail that revealed Montgomery in the first place. Chase, where’s Drago?”
A warm color infused her face. “He’s working in the suite.”
“Have him consult with Mateu to take care of it.”
“Right away.”
The hotel mogul turned back to Mateu. “I know we’ll have your silence.”
“Of course, sir.”
“Does Ms. Montgomery know about what’s happened?”
“I’m not certain. I don’t think so, but I haven’t completely confirmed it yet.” Mateu sipped the vermouth from his glass, wishing he could down the whole thing to ease the cold spear in his gut and the vise gripping his neck.
“Find out, but tread carefully. If she doesn’t know, she is free and clear to finish the assignment, and we’ll deal with the chips wherever they fall. But if she does know, I’m afraid she might not be willing to give a review if she can’t give an honest one.”
“Of course.” Mateu prayed he could find her. She hadn’t answered any of his calls since sending her home last night. He set his empty glass on the tab
le. “Here’s a copy of my resignation. I sent the email before coming in this morning.”
“Espasa, I have another option.” Huntington rounded the table and approached him. “You have a passion for Barcelona that is reflected in this hotel. Stay on and we’ll do a trial run of you working remotely. If it works out after six months, we can make it permanent. It takes a special kind of strength to do what you did here today—a kind of strength that is very difficult to find and impossible to teach.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that, sir. I feel like I was taught by the best.” The lessons from his parents were what made anything he had accomplished possible, and the lessons he’d learned from London in the short time he’d known her had changed him for the better. The priority she’d made her mother mirrored the way he felt about his own. But she did it without compromising what her mother needed. It was time for him to do the same.
“Then you’ll stay?”
His future spread before him in a new and exciting way that he hadn’t thought possible. The only thing that could have made it better would be for her to be by his side.
He bowed slightly to Huntington. “I am sorry, sir, I cannot. But I am honored by your trust in me, especially in light of my own misjudgment.”
Huntington put up his hand. “Please, think about it. I have all the time in the world to wait for the one I want.”
Mateu didn’t need time to think about anything, because his path was clear.
Huntington might have time to wait, but he did not.
He had questions of his own that needed to be answered, and time was not on his side.
London was leaving Barcelona in less than twenty-four hours.
Chapter Nineteen
Tuesday afternoon, London stared down past her bra and underwear at the sex-on-heels strapped to her feet and toasted with her glass of wine. “To the best sex that I’ll never have again.” The wine sloshed precariously close to the rim, so she brought it into the safety zone of her bosom, crooning to it until it settled to the bottom of her glass once more. Spilling wine was an injustice, spilling it on the gorgeous coverlet of her hotel bed, a crime.
