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“I haven’t,” she whispered.
“Then I don’t see why it matters that they weren’t there today.”
Lola took a deep breath. “They’re a lot younger than me. Still just kids. My mother died when they were just five and eight. They were sent to foster care, then adopted.” Her jaw tightened. “When I left California last year, I went to New York. I intended to finally ask them to forgive me. For not keeping my promise to get custody back.” She looked down at her hands, twisting in her lap. “But I never had the guts.”
Admitting failure was so unlike Lola that he glanced at her in surprise. He switched gears, stepping hard on the gas as they drove up the highway. “You’ll think of some way to smooth things over. You always do.”
Lola looked at him hopefully out of the corner of her eye. “You think so?”
He snorted. “You never had trouble arranging people when you were my assistant. You always managed to get me appointments with anyone from feared dictators to beloved religious leaders.”
“Because you’re you.”
“And you’re you,” he said firmly. “You know how to argue people into things. When you’re ready to see your sisters, you’ll figure out how.”
Lola bit her lip thoughtfully. He could almost see the wheels start to turn in her mind. “I could send them some amazing present. Just to break the ice. Then they’d have to contact me to say thanks.”
“That could work,” he said, smiling. He was glad to see some of the dark cloud lift from her shoulders—and glad to distract her from being angry at him for rushing her into marriage and back to California.
“It could.” She smiled back, and it was warmer and brighter than the California sun.
Then her lips twisted mischievously. “I’m warning you. The gift will probably be expensive.”
Rodrigo shrugged. “Spend whatever you like. What’s mine is yours.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I already know you didn’t marry me for my money, Lola.”
“No.” Her expression darkened. She turned away, her arm resting on the edge of the convertible as she looked out at the ocean. “I married you because you blackmailed me.”
The brief moment of camaraderie, of shared sunshine, abruptly disappeared.
Rodrigo turned the convertible off the highway, traveling down a private lane to the edge of tall stone walls that blocked off his compound. He punched in the security code, and the gate slid open. He drove the convertible inside the courtyard, followed closely by his longtime bodyguard, Tobias Watson, in the SUV with all the luggage.
“Back to home sweet home,” he murmured.
“Yes,” Lola said, looking up at the beach house.
Getting out of the convertible, he reached in the back seat of the convertible to unbuckle their baby.
“I can do that,” she said, alarmed.
“It’s done.” Gently, he lifted their baby from the car seat and held him in his arms. Lola looked panicked, and then, looking closer, confused.
“You’re holding him correctly,” she said, clearly shocked. She looked at his face. “How did you learn to hold a baby?”
“You think I’m completely incompetent?” Rodrigo drawled.
“You’ve never held a baby in your life.”
“Then I must be a natural.” He didn’t bother to explain that while she’d been studiously ignoring him on the flight, when he’d been working on his laptop, he’d actually been reading articles about the proper care and handling of infants. He wasn’t going to let Lola lord her greater knowledge over him, or be forced to ask her for the favor of teaching him what to do.
Once, he would have asked her, without thought, and been willing to humble himself for her. But not anymore. Their relationship was still on too shaky a footing for that. It probably hadn’t helped that he’d bullied her into marriage and returning to California. But he had no regrets. It was the most efficient means of getting what he wanted.
As they walked toward his sprawling, luxurious beach house, the front door opened. His executive assistant, Marnie McAdam, appeared in the doorway, her eyes eager behind her thick glasses. “You’re back—” Her expression changed when she saw Lola and the baby. “What...what’s she doing here?”
For an answer, Lola lifted her left hand in a movement so violent it was almost an obscene gesture, to show her the huge diamond ring.
