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“Portia, sweetheart. You’re here.” His warm winning smile devastated her as he strode across the room. Genuine love entered his eyes. “I’m so glad to see you. You’ve come back to me early.”
“Yes.”
“I was worried when I couldn’t reach you. But now I see, you wanted to surprise me.”
He took her into his arms and heaven help her, she allowed him to kiss her.
His lips were warm, welcoming, filled with passion and beautifully familiar. She’d never been kissed the way Juan Carlos kissed her. She held her back stiff and didn’t partake, but he was too caught up in the moment to notice her reluctance.
“We have much to talk about,” he murmured, brushing his lips over hers again.
She stepped back and gazed into his dark gleaming eyes. “Yes, Juan Carlos. It’s the reason I’ve come back to Del Sol so quickly.”
He took her hand, covering it with his. “Come, let’s sit then and catch up.”
He began walking, tugging her along to the king and queen’s thrones, two ornate tall chairs of plush red velvet and gilded carvings.
The irony of sitting upon that chair was too much. “I’d rather stand,” she said.
“Okay.” He looked at her oddly, but then nodded. “Would you like to take a walk? It might feel good to stretch your legs after the long plane ride. We can talk of the progress you’ve made with our wedding.”
“No,” she said. “No, Juan Carlos. I didn’t come here early to discuss our wedding. I came to say that I can’t go through with it.”
“With what, sweetheart?” He blinked and appeared totally confused.
“The wedding. I can’t marry you, Juan Carlos. I went home and really gave our situation some thought.”
“Our situation?” He frowned. “You love me, I love you. That’s our situation. We’re engaged, Portia.”
“No, as of today, we are not.”
She inhaled and twisted the diamond ring off her finger. He was shaking his head, baffled. The gleam in his eyes dimmed. He almost appeared frightened. It killed her to wipe the joy from his face. “I’m terribly sorry.”
“What is all this, Portia?”
She took his hand, spread open his palm and dropped his mother’s wedding ring inside. “It’s too much, Juan Carlos. We...we got caught up in the moment. Finding the art treasures put us both on a crazy romantic high and we took the little fling we had too far.”
“Little fling?” he repeated, his voice hitching.
Oh, God, she’d hurt him. She knew she would, but she almost couldn’t bear seeing that expression on his face. Better a small lie to save him, than the truth, which would make him look the fool in the eyes of his family and country. She loved him enough to suffer his anger and wrath. But the pain she’d inflicted would stay with her a long, long time.
“It happened so fast. You and I, we’re different people. I love my job, Juan Carlos.”
“You wouldn’t have to give it up.”
“Please understand,” she said softly. “It isn’t going to work out. I don’t want to live here. I don’t want to get married or have children right now.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “I never rushed you about children, Portia.”
“You’d expect it one day. And...and I’m afraid I’d disappoint you. I—I... It was a mistake to get engaged.”
She backed up a step, putting distance between them. God should strike her dead for the lies she was telling. But it had to be done. Her sacrifice would make it easier on Juan Carlos in the long run. Yet her heart burned at the thought of leaving him forever.
“You’re having cold feet. I hear it’s common before a wedding.”
“No, being away from here, from you, made it all clear to me, Juan Carlos. It’s not cold feet, it’s reality. I hope you’ll understand and not make this harder on me than it already is.”
He opened his palm to stare at the diamond ring. Then the sound of his deep wobbly sigh reached her ears. He was in pain. God, she hated this. “I love you, Portia,” he said, searching her eyes.
Tears blurred her vision. Her throat constricted. She couldn’t return his love. For his sake, she said nothing.
He gripped her forearms, gently shaking her. As if the impact would somehow clear her head of this nonsense. “Portia, you told me you loved me. You agreed to be my wife.”
“I’m...I’m...” She took a swallow. Could she do this? Could she tell the biggest lie of all? She forced the words out. “I’m fond of you, Juan Carlos.”
