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The injustice grated on his senses. He hadn’t had time to grow tired of her. She’d left him before he was ready to let her go. And now he had forced himself into that very same position of losing her once again before he was ready. But this time the circumstances were entirely of his own making.
It was more than a mess. It was a nightmare.
He glanced over his shoulder, checking his direction, noting that the launch was back and disgorging its passengers. Good. They would be long gone by the time he made it back. He didn’t want to talk to anyone now.
He leaned forward, ready to dig in with another stroke, but this time it was the words of his old rowing coach he heard, and once again he was eighteen, his muscles screaming and cramping with pain, his gut lurching in rebellion as he sat in the stroke seat of the eight. The coach had followed them in his motorboat, issuing instructions to their coxswain and driving them on, further and further, as they raced towards some imaginary finish line he’d promised them. Ten more strokes. Then another twenty. Up the rating. Dig deeper. Harder. And with lungs bursting, muscles burning up, they’d kept up the pressure and pushed through the imaginary line.
“Dig those blades in,’ he’d yelled through his loudspeaker. ‘Never stop rowing until you cross that finish line. Until then the race isn’t over.”
In all his years at university it had been the best advice he’d received. In all the years since it had served him well. Because of that coach he’d set his targets way beyond everyone else’s and kept on rowing, kept on working towards winning the entire length. The lesson had paid dividends through all the years since he’d taken over the running of Casino de Diamante. He was always looking for the extra mileage that could take him further, seeing the competition falter far behind.
He dug the blades into the choppy water and dug down into himself, looking for reserves, seeking new sources of strength. The finish line was out there somewhere. There had to be a way to get there if he only dug deeper.
This race wasn’t over yet.
Leah felt empty. Where earlier her heart had been so full, now there was nothing but a raw, gaping hole, left all the emptier for the joy that their blissful afternoon together had generated. Joy that in the blink of an eye had somehow turned to grief.
And she’d done it. She had nobody else to blame. She’d opened up her heart and she’d let him rip it right out of her.
But how could she ever have seriously imagined that Alejandro would react to her confession in any other way? He was the head of one of the most prestigious and well-respected casino businesses in Europe, a ruthless businessman used to mixing it with the best. Whereas she was just a lowly dressmaker, scraping out an existence in the suburbs of Sydney, trying and not succeeding very well to keep her wayward brother out of trouble.
She’d known her love was wasted months ago, and she’d walked away rather than admit she’d lost her heart to him. Why had she been so foolish as to think anything had changed now? Because with a few smiles and some easy banter he’d seemed different from the man who had stormed his way into her shop and back into her life, demanding she return to his bed in exchange for rescuing her brother? The sun must have truly fried her brain today.
For he was the same man.
Right now he sat there like a man on a mission, powering the small dinghy through the choppy water, his expression brooding, his eyes impenetrable, closed off. Clearly he couldn’t wait to get to the other side, to get away from her as fast as he could.
Who could blame him? Discovering that the woman you’d taken to be your temporary bed companion has been harbouring secret wishes and desires must be every man’s nightmare.
There was no way he would want her to stay now, regardless of the deal he’d brokered to get her back. He’d heard enough; he’d want to be done with her as quickly as possible.
Which suited her right down to the ground.
He steered the boat towards the jetty, pulling in the nearside oar as the dinghy bumped alongside. Two of the crew from the launch met them, pulling the boat in and keeping it steady, offering his sullen passenger a hand out. She took it, stepping onto the jetty as if she couldn’t wait to be gone. Fine.
But a second later, after he’d thrown a hasty instruction to the crew to take care of their things, he noticed her walking down the jetty, her back ramrod-straight. He stiffened, the blood thickening in his veins. He’d seen that walk once before.
‘Leah!’
She hesitated the merest fraction of a second, but she didn’t turn around, she kept right on going.
He caught up with her where the jetty met the beach. He took her arm and spun her around. ‘Where are you going?’
Her eyes shone back at him, glacial blue, cold and unyielding. ‘Where do you think I’m going? I need a shower. And then…’ She jagged up her chin. ‘Then I need to pack.’
Something wild and angry surged inside him. ‘You’re not going anywhere.’
Her eyes turned momentarily colder before she sighed and they changed, softening, a sudden sadness filtering their blue. ‘Release me,’ she pleaded. ‘I don’t belong here—in your world. Let me go home.’
‘No!’ he roared, the beast inside him clamouring for release.
She put a hand over his where he clung to her arm, prising his fingers loose and letting his hand drop away. ‘You don’t want me. Not now. You haven’t ever really wanted me. Please let me go. I’ll find a way to repay you for Jordan’s debt. I’ll pay you back every last cent.’
‘I don’t care about the money!’
She smiled. ‘No. But I do. You saved my brother from financial ruin. And, considering the sharks he was swimming with, you might well have saved his life. I have to find some way to repay you.’
‘That’s not what I want!’ On that one point he was clear. He didn’t care about the money, didn’t care about being repaid. But as to what he wanted…The blood was pumping through his body, thumping at his temples, the creature inside him struggling in turmoil. None of it made sense. Nothing was clear.
