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“I did give you a chance. You never called me back.” I took a deep breath. “I know now you weren’t the monster I thought you were. But I’ll never be able to trust you like I did. It’s lost. Along with the way I loved you.”
Silence fell, the only sound the children playing on the other side of the trees. I heard their shrieks of joy.
When Alejandro spoke, his voice was low, even grim. “Love me or not, trust me or not, but you will marry me. Miguel will have a stable family. A real home.”
I shook my head. He moved closer.
“You promised to come to Spain, Lena,” he said. “You gave your word.”
I threw him a panicked glance. “That was when—”
“Ah. You hoped you could break your promise, didn’t you? Perhaps with St. Cyr’s help?”
My silence spoke volumes. His dark eyes hardened. “You gave me your word that if I brought you to London, you would come with me to Spain.”
He was right. I had. Now, I felt so alone and forlorn. Alejandro was starting to wear me down. To break my will. To remind me of a promise I’d never wanted to keep.
“It will only lead to misery,” I whispered.
“Wherever it leads,” he said softly, “whatever we’d once planned for our lives...you are part of my family now.”
“Your family. You mean your grandmother?” I shivered, imagining a coldly imperious grande dame in pearls and head-to-toe vintage Chanel. A little like my own grandmother, in fact. “She will hate me. She’ll never think I’m good enough.”
He gave a low laugh. “You think you know what to expect? A cold, proud dowager in a cold, drafty castle?”
“Am I wrong?”
“My grandmother was born in the United States. In Idaho. The daughter of Basque sheep ranchers.”
“Idaho?” My mouth fell open. “How did she...?”
“How did she end up married to my grandfather? It is an interesting story. Perhaps you can ask her when you meet her.” His lips twisted grimly. “Unless you intend to break your promise, and refuse to go to Spain after all.”
I swallowed, afraid of what it would mean to go to his castle. Surrounded by his family and friends. Surrounded by his power. How long could I resist his marriage demand then?
“Enough. You always spend too long in your mind, going back and forth on decisions that have already been made. End it now.” Reaching into his pocket, Alejandro pulled out a phone and dialed a number. He pushed it into my hand. “It’s ringing.”
“What?” I stammered, staring down at the phone. “Whom did you call?”
“My grandmother. If you are breaking your promise to me, if you are truly not willing to bring Miguel to Spain to meet her, tell her now.”
“Me? I can’t talk to your grandmother!”
“No. I can’t,” he said coldly, “because I love her. You have no feelings for her whatsoever, so you should have no trouble being cruel.”
“You think I’m cruel?” I whispered as the phone rang.
His eyes met mine. “Tell her she has a great-grandchild. Introduce yourself. Tell her I’ve asked you to marry me. Go on.”
I stared at him numbly, then heard a tremulous voice at the other end of the line.
“¿Hola? Alejandro?”
It was a warm, sweet, kindly voice, the sort of voice that a grandmother would have in a movie, the grandmother who bakes cookies and is plump and white-haired and gives you hugs and tells you to eat more pie—or in this case, more paella?—because food is love, and she loves you so much that you’re her whole existence, her light, her star. It was the type of voice I had not heard since my parents had died.
“Alejandro?” The woman sounded worried now. “Are you there?”
“It’s not Alejandro,” I replied, my voice unsteady. “But he asked me to call you. I’m a...friend.”
“A friend?” The sweet tremulous voice gasped, her accent definitely American. “Has he fallen sick? Was he in an accident?”
“No, he’s fine....”
“If he were fine, he’d be calling me himself, as he always does.” A sob choked her voice. “You’re trying to break it to me gently. But you can’t. First I lost my children, then my...” Her voice broke. “Alejandro was all I had left. I always knew I would lose him someday. That sooner or later—” another sob “—fate would catch up with me and...”
