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Stefano cleared his throat.
“There were some good pictures of Mrs. Gutierrez and the boys. Perhaps you could make copies and send them to the boys’ parents.”
She blinked. “Sure.”
His brow furrowed as he looked down at her, his dark eyes warm and tender. “Everything all right?”
“Yes,” Annabelle whispered over the lump in her throat. But it wasn’t all right. It would never be all right again.
He threw some money on the table to pay the bill and rose from his chair. “Let’s head home.”
On the drive back to the ranch, Annabelle stared out the window at the sunset shimmering in the west. The light turned the undulating green hills into silken ribbons of scarlet and coral and magenta.
Rolling down the window to lean her elbows against the frame, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the fragrant air, redolent of oranges and earth and the distant sea. She loved this beautiful, wild, half-arid landscape.
As they drove back, the simple brush of Stefano’s hand against her knee as he shifted the gears caused a thrill through her body, even as it caused a jagged pain through her heart.
Then he spoke.
“Don’t leave tomorrow, Annabelle,” he said in a low voice. “Stay here. With me.” She looked at him with an intake of breath.
“I wish I could.”
“Why can’t you?”
Because her heart was already breaking, and she didn’t know how much longer she could hide her love for him, love he would never return. “Because … I can’t.”
His eyes looked black, then he turned back to the road and switched gears, hard. She sat in stricken silence as they drove back through the gates of Santo Castillo.
The chaos at the ranch had only increased. He navigated past the delivery vans and horse trailers parked along his gravel drive, skirting around the people setting up for the polo match and gala dinner afterward. By noon tomorrow, Annabelle knew, Santo Castillo would be overrun by the world’s most beautiful, sophisticated, experienced women. Just thinking of it, she felt sick inside.
Stefano parked the truck in the garage and turned off the ignition. Setting his jaw, he faced her.
“Come to my bedroom,” he said. “So we can discuss this.”
“I’ll come to your bedroom, but there’s nothing to discuss.”
“There is.”
“Don’t ruin our last precious night by trying to change things that cannot be changed.”
“Anything can change. We are the ones who know what we want and how we want to live. You have three minutes to get to my bedroom.” The hard set of his jaw frightened her. “Or I’ll carry you. Right now.”
“Everyone would see!”
“Three minutes.”
He got out of the truck, slamming the door behind him.
Annabelle sat in the darkened garage in shock. When she finally got out of the truck and left the garage, Stefano’s broad, muscular back was disappearing behind a brightly colored horse trailer as he pushed through the throngs of caterers and party planners and hired help.
She stared at him, and felt like crying.
Leaving him was the last thing she wanted to do. But she had to do it. The longer she stayed now, loving him, the more vicious her heartbreak would be. She’d never loved anyone like this. If she let herself stay, his ultimate betrayal might kill her. Her only hope of saving herself was to leave. Immediately.
Annabelle slowly started to walk through the crowds toward the house. But she had a sinking feeling that it was already too late.
CHAPTER TEN
