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Until the pressure of his lean fingers on hers increased and he said in a driven undertone, ‘Marry me, Rosie. I want you for my wife.’
She felt as if she’d been hit by a ton of bricks. She’d been dreading this, really hoping that he wasn’t so self-seeking as to go this far. Terrina’s words punched fiery holes in her brain and pushed daggers through her heart: ‘You’d better get your skates on and slap a wedding ring on his new-found daughter’s finger, hadn’t you? It’s the only way to make sure of your future inheritance.’
The smooth-tongued, manipulative louse hadn’t wasted any time, had he? How could he do this to her? He was no better than that—whatever her name was—who had tried to trap him into marriage for mercenary reasons all those years ago!
With a monumental effort, considering how closely her legs resembled a half-set jelly, she made it to her feet. And her voice was all raggedy as she got out, ‘Get lost, Sebastian! And if you value your eyesight you’ll never come near me again!’
And stumbled back into the house. And got lost all over again.
When, half blinded by the ridiculous tears she had no sensible reason for shedding, she located her room, she only had time to lock the door behind her and crumple into a heap of misery on the floor before his imperious knock came. His tense request that she open it. Right now.
She ignored it. The carved door was stout. He’d need an axe to gain entry.
She would ignore him and whatever he said or did for the rest of her life!
Strange how that resolution brought her no comfort at all.
CHAPTER TWELVE
GOING through the motions, Rosie showered, dressed in a sleek cream linen skirt and topped it with a light silk-knit over blouse, did her make-up and forced herself out into the small courtyard where breakfast, so she’d been told, was taken in fine weather.
Marcus and Elvira were already seated at the white cloth-covered table in the shade of a gnarled fig tree, and as her father rose to his feet, his face a bright welcome, Rosie determinedly returned his smile.
Today was a new beginning. In turning down Sebastian’s cynical proposal in no uncertain manner, listening to his impatient footsteps retreating down the corridor last night, she’d become stronger, in charge of her own destiny, far less likely to jump when he decided to tweak her strings.
‘Good morning, my dear—we have another beautiful day.’
Elvira’s greeting was just as welcoming. Rosie agreed that, yes, it was, and took a vacant seat, a warm glow melting the block of ice that had been her heart. It was wonderful to feel she was accepted. It went some way towards cancelling out Sebastian’s coldly calculating manipulations.
The table was set with jugs of iced juice, pots of coffee, hot rolls wrapped in linen napkins, pots of conserve and a dish of sliced tomatoes sprinkled with fresh herbs. Rosie’s stomach closed up as she helped herself to coffee, willing the hand that held the pot not to shake.
Elvira laid down her napkin and got to her feet, very smart this morning in a light grey tailored suit, her dark hair coiled in a glossy knot at her nape. ‘I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, b
ut duty calls. I have a committee meeting in Jerez—a worthwhile charity. Have either of you seen my son this morning?’
Was her gaze, her query, directed mainly at her? Had Elvira guessed that there was more to her relationship with Sebastian than his self-appointed mission to deliver her to her father?
Willing herself not to blush, Rosie shook her head, and at her father’s negative reply she wondered if, after last night’s put-down, he’d taken himself off to sulk and grumble at himself for the lost opportunity to secure his future inheritance.
She sincerely hoped so, even if a wayward and regrettably treacherous part of her missed him. It would be easier on her if she never had to set eyes on him again.
‘What would you like to do today?’ Relaxed, his smile indulgent, Marcus leant back in his chair. ‘Anything you like, sweetheart. Drive to the coast? Explore Jerez, Cadiz? Or we could try to get a flight back to England—I can’t wait to get you back home. Think about it. We can revisit Spain at our leisure whenever you like.’
Which would be never!
‘Going home sounds great.’ Rosie was sure she meant it, any doubts swept away by the beam of satisfaction on her father’s face. Besides, looked at sensibly, putting a great deal of distance between herself and Sebastian was the best way of dealing with this situation.
‘You finish your breakfast, sweetheart, while I make a phone call. We may have to wait a day or two, but I’ll book us on the first available flight.’
Marcus was already on his feet when Sebastian strode purposefully towards them. Dressed in a crisp white shirt tucked into narrow dark trousers, he looked so handsome it was terrifying.
Rosie’s heartbeat accelerated and her stomach convulsed as she watched like a mesmerised rabbit while he addressed Marcus, his proud head high, his features expressionless, as he stated, ‘Marcus, sir, I would like your permission to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.’
In the shocking silence that followed that outlandish request Rosie could cheerfully have throttled him. Then she just wanted to curl up and die! This was so humiliating!
‘I see.’ Marcus dragged his pop-eyed stare from Sebastian’s steely silver eyes and grinned down at Rosie. ‘So that’s the way the wind blows—I had wondered!’ He harrumphed gruffly.
‘Go to it, my boy! I’ll make myself scarce. I’ll be with the morning papers, should you need me.’
