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No, of course Belle hadn’t. Why would she now, when he’d made it so clear he wanted nothing to do with her? Or their baby girl?
“Thank you, Mrs. Green,” he said quietly and hung up. He felt sick, dizzy.
“Something wrong?”
Nadia found him in the hallway. He didn’t like having her so close, blocking the sunshine and soap with her heavy smell of exotic flowers and musk.
She frowned, looking at the phone still clasped tightly in his hand. “Bad news?”
“Belle’s in the hospital.”
“She was hurt?”
“She’s gone into labor early.”
Nadia shrugged. “Maybe things will go badly. Otherwise you’re on the hook for the next eighteen years. If you’re lucky, they’ll both conveniently die and... Stop, you’re hurting me!” she suddenly cried.
Looking down, Santiago saw he’d grabbed her by the shoulder in fury, and his fingers were digging into her skin. He abruptly let her go. The skin on his hand still crawled from touching her.
“You are a snake.”
Rubbing her shoulder, she said, “We both are. That’s why we’re perfect for each other.”
He ground his teeth. “My brother is barely in his grave.”
“It was always you I wanted, Santiago.”
“You had a funny way of showing it.”
Nadia shrugged, smiling, still certain of her charm. “I had to be practical, darling. I didn’t know then that you would turn out to be worth so much.” She tilted her head, fluttering her long eyelashes. “And what can I say? I wanted to be a duchess.”
His lip curled. “You disgust me.”
Nadia frowned in confusion. “Then why did you send that girl away? Wait. Oh, no.” Her lips spread in a shark-like smile. “You love her,” she taunted. “Sweet, true, tender love.”
His voice was tight. “I don’t.”
“You do. And that baby as well. You wanted to kill me just now, for speaking as I did. You love them both.”
Santiago stared down blindly at Nadia in the castle hallway.
Love Belle?
Love her?
He’d let her go because it was better for her. That was all. Because she deserved to be happy. And because his family needed him here in Spain.
But he suddenly realized that wasn’t the whole reason.
For months now, he’d been fighting his feelings for Belle. Because since he was a boy, every time he’d loved someone, they’d stabbed him in the back. He’d vowed to never play the sucker again.
But with Belle, he’d been tempted more than he could resist. He’d come to care about her too much. He’d started feeling that her happiness was more important than his own.
He hadn’t sent Belle away so he could be with his family, but because he was fleeing from them.
Belle was his real family. Belle and the baby.
And that fact terrified him.
