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“My parents’ relationship was not like what your parents had,” Andrés began cautiously. Was he really speaking of this aloud? He’d never told anyone of his childhood.


Chloe traced a finger over his chest, the movement putting him a bit more at ease. “How so?”


“They married young and had me not long after. My father loved my mother more than anything. There was nothing he wouldn’t have done for her.” His jaw tightened and he forced out the rest of the words. “But my mother fell out of love with him when she met another man. She left one day, simply went to the market and never returned.”


Chloe inhaled swiftly. “Oh, Andrés, I’m so sorry.”


His lips twisted into a humorless smile. “I’m not finished. Nowhere near…” He closed his eyes and continued, trying to not let himself relive anything emotionally. Told the story as if it had happened to someone else. “My father was a broken man and could barely function, let alone take care of his child. He finally drank himself into an early grave.”


“How old were you?”


“Six.”


“Oh God.” She kissed his chest and hugged him tighter. “I don’t even know what to say.”


“There’s not much to say. It is clear my parents didn’t love me enough. My mother not enough to stay, my father not enough to live.”


“But they must have loved you,” she started hesitantly, but he heard the doubt in her words. “Who raised you after your father died?”


“My father’s brother and his family,” he replied in a flat tone, always careful to keep it devoid of emotion. “They were wealthy and had much money to spare, but no love. Any affection they had was invested back into their own child, who was several years older than me. The only time I was paid attention to was when they found a reason to hit me. To tell me that I would amount to nothing…remind me that nobody had ever loved me and nobody ever would.”


Chloe sat up, her eyes wide with horror and shimmering with tears. “No. Oh no, Andrés.”


He stroked the smooth skin of her naked back and gazed up at her, but didn’t really see her; his mind was some place else.


“The abuse was never discovered by the authorities?” she whispered.


“No.”


“My heart breaks for you,” she said unevenly, and one of her tears hit his chest. “And the childhood you were denied.”


“Gracias.” Andrés brushed a kiss across her knuckles. It was almost therapeutic to tell her. The ice around his heart seemed to thaw slightly by her grief for him and from the warmth of her embrace.


What he didn’t tell her was that he’d repaid his uncle and his family for their kindness years later. Acquiring his uncle’s struggling restaurants in a hostile takeover and having them torn down, selling the property at a fraction of their value to have local parks built in their place.


Since then his uncle had lost nearly all his money, and last he’d heard he and his wife had moved to an apartment in the rundown area of town. His cousin, always with behavior trouble, had been arrested recently on drug possession charges.


But that was all in the past now. Today, he was a successful man with billions of dollars to his name and a beautiful woman in his bed, carrying his child.


“There was a light in my darkness. Rosa was the nanny to both my cousin and I, raising us both and giving me hope all those years. Once I bought this villa, I hired her and brought her to live here with me.”


“Now I can see why she’s special to you,” she said softly.


“Sí. She was the only mother figure I had, cariño, and she will be a wonderful nanny to our child when he is born.”


“He? Well aren’t we presumptuous?” she teased. “Does Rosa know that I’m carrying your child?”


“She guessed when Dr. Flores arrived last week with the ultrasound machine.”


“And how did she react?”


“She was thrilled.” He gave a soft laugh. “And then berated me for hours for not marrying you.”


Chloe went silent, and he knew she thought about his proposal again. He considered asking once more, but her answer would remain the same. Perhaps more now that she was aware he would never be able to love her.


But then she snuggled down against him once more and kissed his chest, and Andrés’s body again stirred with desire. With a low growl he rolled her beneath him again. Her mouth parted in surprise and her eyes rounded.


“I did not tell you all of this for pity,” he said roughly, stroking her hip and staring down at her. “I told you so that you might understand why I cannot love anyone. I’m simply not capable of it.”


Even if there were days he wanted to be. Like now, when he held Chloe in his arms. But his mind was too hardened, his heart too numb to the emotion.


Chloe’s gaze flickered with understanding and sadness. He wanted to erase the disappointment he knew was in her heart, so he chose to replace it instead with the passion they both knew existed.


He reached down to cup her breast and drew his tongue across one tight nipple. She moaned softly and slid her hands to his shoulders.


“But cariño, this can be enough,” he said thickly and nudged her thighs apart, sinking slowly into her welcoming heat.


Chloe cried out when Andrés entered her fully. While part of her rejoiced in their joining, her heart was breaking for the child who had never been loved and the adult who now refused to let himself try.


She dug her nails into his back as he moved fiercely inside her. It was almost as if he were exorcising the demons of his past. She took what little he offered and gave everything of herself in return. They hit their release simultaneously, breathing raggedly and clutching each other. When her pulse had slowed and her mind cleared, Chloe’s eyes pricked with tears of hope.


Andrés’s confession of his horrific childhood had forced her to take a new outlook on her situation and on Andrés himself. She was able to see the big picture now, knowing the damage to his soul. His reluctance to love seemed a little more comprehensible, because beneath his hard exterior still laid a vulnerable little boy, terrified of rejection and being abused.


They lay with limbs intertwined, her head on his chest. She listened to his heart, lulled into a sense of peace by the steady rise and fall of his stomach beneath her hand. And soon she was asleep.


When she woke the next day she was still curled up in Andrés’s arms. She held her breath, remembering everything he’d told her last night. Would he regret confessing to her?


The hairs lifted on the back of her neck, and she tilted her head to glance up at him. The air locked in her throat when she found his dark gaze studying her.


“Good morning,” she murmured hesitantly.


“Good morning, cariño.” He pushed a strand of hair off her forehead. “Did you sleep well?”


She nodded and her cheeks warmed. Too well, which seemed to be the case any time she slept with Andrés.


“Bueno. Once we are fully awake, I want to show you the countryside,” he murmured. “But first, let us eat breakfast.”


They spent the next few days together, touring the countryside and seeing parts of Spain that Chloe had had no time to see the last time she was here.


The change in Andrés was nothing if not amazing. He was a carefree, tender, and passionate man. She had fun in his presence and enjoyed a wonderful happiness during the time he’d taken off of work.


Another week passed, and she woke to the exploration of Andrés’s mouth on her neck. She gave a purr of contentment, threading her fingers into his hair.


“You need to pack a bag,” he said softly. “We’re leaving for Valencia this morning.”


“Valencia?” she repeated, surprised at the sudden announcement.


“Sí. Just for the night, I have some business to attend to. We, of course, will be staying at Diablo’s Paraíso.”


“That sounds quite nice actually. I always enjoyed Valencia.”


Chloe walked into the elegant lobby of Diablo’s Paraíso and memories of her summer assailed her. Though she’d been honest when she’d told Andrés she’d enjoyed Valencia, part of her had flinched at being back at the hotel and facing certain recollections.


Andrés’ hand lay possessively on her lower back as he urged her toward the elevators, while a man from concierge followed them with their luggage. She felt the eyes of people around them watching, knew some of them were employees she’d worked with. Did they recognize her as a former employee? Did they recognize Andrés?


A flush stole up her cheeks at her own naiveté. Of course they recognized him; she’d been the only one completely ignorant to who he was and the power he wielded.


She looked about, wondering if she would see her old roommate Betsy, a woman from England who’d also been in the country on a visa.

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