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Tears stung her eyes and her heart twisted with misery. She’d already taken the risk of confessing, and it was too late to go back now. She didn’t want to anyway. She swallowed hard, lifting her head. “That’s just it. I’m done pretending, Andrés. I’m done pretending I don’t care about you.”
His gaze searched hers, seeming to look for a hint that she was anything but serious. Perhaps the glaze of tears convinced him she was. Then he slowly pulled away from her and set her back to the ground with a firm shake of his head.
“You don’t love me, Chloe,” he said roughly, avoiding looking at her now. “You may think you do, but I promise you that you don’t.”
“Don’t you dare tell me what I feel,” she said vehemently. “Perhaps they’re not the words you want to hear, but they’re the truth.”
Andrés spun back to her, the look in his eyes a mixture of wild fear and despondency. “No, Chloe. You know that—”
“What, that you can’t love me back?” she bit out on a sob, helpless to stop the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “Why? Why can’t you take that risk? And why can’t you let me love you?”
His nostrils flared and he gripped her arms, giving her a shake. “Because nobody’s ever loved me. Not my family and not you.”
“You’re wrong,” she whispered, her heart aching at his obvious pain and anger. She covered his hands with her own and met his hard stare. “I love you, Andrés. Do you understand? I love you.”
His jaw hardened. “No. You love believing in fairy tales. And you need to realize they are not real. They don’t come true.”
“Sometimes they do,” she pleaded, tears filling her eyes. “If you let them.”
Something flickered in his eyes, something that may have been hope. But then it was gone and his gaze was once again shuttered. “You need to grow up and stop being so damn naïve.”
Chloe blanched; felt the color leaching from her face and hope fading from her heart. “Maybe I’m naïve, but you’re a hypocrite,” she said brokenly. “You make love to a woman you will not love. And I say will not, because you can love, Andrés. You just refuse to let yourself.”
“Basta.”
“If you can’t love me,” she pressed on, “can’t love anyone, how can you possibly love our baby?”
Andrés’ face grew ashen as he shook his head. “Chloe, stop—”
“No, you stop!” She jerked away from him and scrubbed a hand across her cheek to wipe away the tears. “I hoped things might be better being your wife, even if you blackmailed me into this marriage. You’re my husband, the one man who’s supposed to love me unconditionally. I can’t…I can’t live like this, Andrés. Please, if you have any mercy, if you can’t love me or even accept my love, let me go,” she whispered, touching the slight swell of her stomach. “Let the baby and I both go.”
“I can’t. Damn you, I can’t,” he ground out and curled his hands around her shoulders. He lowered his head, capturing her mouth in another thorough kiss, forcing the response she was helpless to withhold.
When he lifted his head, Chloe was again breathy and weak in the knees but undeterred from her convictions. It wasn’t enough anymore. It would probably never be enough.
“Yes, we want each other,” she admitted sadly. “You’ve proven that again and again. But in the long scheme of things, I just don’t think that can sustain us.”
He stared down at her, his gaze full of unease and frustration. “I’m sorry, Chloe, but it will have to be.” With a shake of his head, he set her aside and strode from the room.
She’d taken a chance and it had backfired horribly. He didn’t love her. Would never love her. Chloe slid down the wall with a sob and wrapped her arms around her knees, letting go the rush of tears.
Andrés leaned his head against the leather seat of the Rolls-Royce and glanced out the window as they pulled away from Diablo’s Paraíso. He was exhausted. Physically and mentally.
A week had passed since he and Chloe had returned from Paris, and in that time so much had happened.
When they’d arrived back at the villa, confirmation was waiting that Estella Martinez had indeed been requiring the employees at the resort to flirt heavily with the guests. Further investigation had led to the discovery that at least two employees had even begun to sleep with guests for extra cash on the side.
What a mess. He pressed the tips of his fingers to his temples and shook his head, trying to put aside the memory of having just fired Estella from her position as manager of Diablo’s Paraíso. She’d been viciously angry, defending her policies and how they’d only created success for the resort. The woman was mad to think he would ever allow such sleaze to continue.
His thoughts turned to his wife. So sweet and sensual, who drove him beyond reason. Chloe made him want to feel things he refused to. There was an innocence about her that was rare and incredible and that time and again he looked for an excuse to try and doubt it. Because of his father and his own experience with women, he’d been so damn quick to convict her without taking the time to weigh the evidence.
Andrés closed his eyes with a sigh. Cristos, he was a bastard. And somehow, still, she’d managed to fall in love with him. His heart clenched with a mix of amazement and fear at the reminder.
Every night since Paris he’d taken her in bed, almost ruthless in his determination to prove that their passion would be enough to sustain a marriage.
But he’d watched her with each passing day, and though at night she came alive in his arms, during the day she was a ghost of herself. She barely ate and had shadows under eyes that seemed to be forever swollen from crying. And he’d begun to realize it wouldn’t be enough. Not for Chloe.
When the Rolls-Royce pulled up the drive to his villa, the first prickle of premonition hit him that there was change about.
Andrés climbed out of the car, slowly approaching the house. The air outside was cool, the skies dark and ominous with the threat of rain. Before he could reach the door it swung inward, illuminating Chloe and the small suitcase she clutched in her hand.
“I’m leaving,” she said unnecessarily, her eyes void of expression. “If you want to try and take our child after it is born, I’ll fight you in court with every penny I have. Maybe I won’t win, but I’m willing to take that risk. I can’t live like this.” Her voice finally cracked. “I won’t.”
But she didn’t move, just stared at him, as if daring him to stop her. Or maybe begging silently for him to say the words he couldn’t speak.
Andrés stared down at her. Helplessness and frustration gnawed at his gut. And regret. He’d done this to her, had made her life hell. He’d tried to keep her, knowing how much she believed in finding love. Knowing that he could never be the one to give it to her. She’d given him everything. Her trust. Her body. Her heart. And what did he give in return? Not the one thing she’d needed most.
Swallowing hard against the emotion that grew tight in his throat, Andrés jerked his gaze away to look out at the fierce gray clouds gathering. Their darkness and misery matched the mood in his heart. The thought of letting Chloe and his child go made every muscle in his body scream in protest, set his blood pounding with denial.
But for once in his damn life, he was going to try and do the right thing. After everything he’d done to her, she deserved to be happy. He owed her that much. He drew in an unsteady breath and looked back at her.
“Go, Chloe,” he said tonelessly, welcoming the numbness that settled in his heart. “I’ll have the papers drawn up for a divorce.”
She made the tiniest sound of anguish; her small teeth clamped down on her lower lip. Giving a brief nod, she stepped forward and leaned on her tiptoes to press one last kiss against his cheek.
“I’ll always love you, Andrés,” Chloe whispered brokenly. “Goodbye.”
Andrés didn’t turn around as she walked past him to the Rolls-Royce. He was frozen, emotionally and physically, even while his heart pounded a tumultuous ballad of grief that she was leaving.
He listened to the car door slam shut and then the purr of the engine starting. Soon after came the crackling of tires on the paved drive.
Chloe was gone.
Almost climactically, thunder boomed through the Catalonia countryside, shaking the house and dragging him from his numb shell.
He turned to watch the car disappear, just as the first fat drop of rain hit his face. Followed by another. And another. Soon the rain was falling in merciless sheets of water.
It didn’t penetrate in his mind that they were having the first massive rainstorm in months until he was drenched. Then consequences of what would soon follow such a rain in this region began to sink in.
