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Cruz inclined his head, only the merest glint in his eye showing any reaction to her spiky response. ‘Of course. I should have thought of that. I’ll see to it that the stylist takes you to a suitable establishment for children also.’
The boys were starting to get bored now, having eaten enough and grown tired of the lack of attention and activity. Sancho was already manoeuvring himself to try and slip out of his chair and Trinity caught him deftly.
She took advantage of the distraction. ‘I’ll let them play some more while their lunch digests and then it’ll be time for their afternoon nap.’
Without asking for help, Cruz stood and plucked a clearly delighted Matty, little arms outstretched, out of his seat. It irked her no end that Cruz was already holding him with an ease that belied the fact that it was only the second time he’d held one of his nephews in his arms.
It suited him. Matty looked incredibly protected in those strong arms and a sharp poignancy gripped her for a moment as she realised that he was already charming them. They’d gone from looking at him as if he was about to devour them whole, to looking at him with something close to awe and adoration. Their tiny minds were obviously cottoning onto the fact that this tall person might become an important ally and be able to do things that Trinity and Mrs Jordan couldn’t.
Sancho was whingeing—he wanted to be in the big man’s arms too.
Cruz held out his other arm, ‘I can take him.’
After a moment’s hesitation Trinity handed him over, to see Cruz expertly balance Sancho in his other arm. And then he walked out of the room, two glossy brown heads lifted high against his chest. The twins were delighted with themselves, grinning at her over those broad shoulders.
And just like that Trinity knew she’d started to lose them to Cruz... And, as wrong as it was, she couldn’t but help feel a tiny bit jealous at how easily he accepted the innocence of his nephews when he would never ever accept the possibility of Trinity’s. Not while he was so blinded by his loyalty to his deceased brother.
* * *
The next few days passed in a blur for Trinity. She was taken to cosmopolitan and beautiful Seville by Cruz’s driver, to a scarily exclusive boutique where she lost track of the outfits she tried on. Then she was taken to a department store that stocked children’s clothes, where she picked up everything she needed for the boys.
Their bedroom had been refurbished, and once again Cruz’s efficiency had been impressive. An interior designer had taken her ideas on board and now, with murals of animals and tractors and trains on the walls, it was a bright and inviting space for two small boys. And they each had a bed, built in the shape of a car.
For a moment, when she’d seen it transformed and the way the boys had stood there in wide-eyed awe, she’d felt ridiculously emotional. They would have so much more than she’d ever had...or even their father.
She would have thanked Cruz, but he hadn’t been around much in
the last few days. He hadn’t joined them for lunch again, and the boys had been asking for him plaintively.
Trinity folded up the last of Sancho and Matty’s new clothes and put them in the colourful set of drawers, chastising herself for the constant loop in her head that seemed to veer back to Cruz no matter how hard she tried to change it.
She was about to push the drawer closed when a deep voice came from behind her. ‘Where are the boys?’
She jumped and whirled around to see Cruz filling the doorway, dressed in jeans and a shirt open at the neck. Irritation at the way she’d just been wondering about him, and the effortless effect he had on her, made her say waspishly, ‘They’re outside, playing with Mrs Jordan.’
Her irritation only increased when she found herself noticing how gorgeous he looked.
‘They’ve been asking for you, you know. If you’re going to be in their lives you need to be more consistent. They don’t understand why you’re there one day but not the next...it confuses them.’
Her conscience pricked. What she really meant was that it put her on edge, not knowing where or when he was likely to turn up...
His gaze narrowed on her and he slowly raised one brow. Clearly the man wasn’t used to having anyone speak to him like this. Well, tough, she told herself stoutly. She was no longer in awe of her scarily sexy stern boss. She folded her arms.
‘I understand that you’ve had your wardrobe replenished, as well as my nephews’?’ Cruz drawled.
Trinity flushed. She immediately felt churlish and unfolded her arms. ‘I wanted to say thank you for the bedroom—it worked out beautifully, and the boys love it. And, yes, we got clothes... But more clothes were delivered from the boutique than I ever looked at or tried on...it’s too much.’
Cruz shook his head slowly, a hard light in his eye. ‘Still with the act? I’m impressed. I thought you would have cracked by now and shown your true colours—but perhaps you’re saving yourself for a more appreciative audience.’
She just looked at him. This evidence of his continued mistrust hurt her and, terrified to look at why that was, and not wanting him to see her emotions, she focused on the last thing he’d said. ‘What do you mean, audience?’
‘I have a function to attend in Seville tomorrow night. It’ll be our first public outing as husband and wife.’
Panic gripped her. ‘But Mrs Jordan—’
Cruz cut her off. ‘Has already agreed to babysit. And we’re rectifying that situation next week. I’ve organised with a local recruitment agency for them to send us their best candidates for another nanny. It’ll free you up to spend more time with me, and Mrs Jordan will have more of her own free time.’
‘Is that really necessary?’ she asked, feeling weak at the thought of more time with him.
