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But weakness was opportunity for women like Adeline; he wouldn’t surrender to it. “Our deal is what it is. If you want your money, you’ll do what I say.”
She gripped the railing until her fingers turned white. He expected more fight; more fury. But there was none. Like a balloon with a tiny hole, she deflated before his eyes, and finally, she nodded. “Yes, sir.”
He deserved that quip. He was treating her like a slave, not a person. Until that moment, Guy hadn’t realized that he was a man capable of this kind of behaviour. A man who would punish a woman again and again for her mistakes.
It was beneath him, and yet he couldn’t abandon his course. He was driven by a deep, dark need to make this woman pay. To make her understand that nobody lied to Guillem Rodriguez and got away with it.
CHAPTER FIVE
“AND WHAT DO YOU do, dear?”
Addie paused, midway through lifting her fork to her mouth. The dessert of date and coconut pudding with orange scented cream was delicious. The perfect end to a surprisingly enjoyable evening. Since th
eir contretemps on the deck earlier, Guy had been acting the part of the perfect gentleman. Attentive, respectful, enamored. The last one had been particularly hard to deal with, because it reminded Addie so strongly of before.
“Ava’s an actress,” Guy said, when Addie didn’t speak.
Santiago made a grunting noise which could have been surprise or agreement. “Film?”
“Stage,” Addie responded croakily, remembering vividly what she’d told Guy. It had been easy to create this fiction, for it was the life she would have been living, had things with her mother been different.
“Ava’s a brilliant actress,” Guy added. “Her performances are unfailingly believable.”
Addie stiffened, the undercurrent of criticism meant for her ears alone.
“Where have you performed?” Santiago pushed. “Anywhere I would know?”
“No,” Addie’s smile was wistful.
“Don’t be modest, querida. You had a sensational season in London six months ago. The Taming of the Shrew, wasn’t it?”
She stared at him for a moment before nodding jerkily, her eyes only able to hold his for a moment before dropping to the cake in front of her.
“Ah, Shakespeare,” Santiago said with a grimace. “Not my thing, I’m afraid.”
“Don’t apologise,” Addie murmured. “I’m not a huge fan of his either. I mean, of course, I can see the brilliance in his work, but it’s not my personal preference.”
Santiago leaned closer over the table, his own dessert long since finished. “What is?”
“That’s easy,” Addie relaxed back in her seat a little, until the action brought her shoulder into contact with Guy’s fingers, draped as they were over the seat. She straightened a little, and he curved his hand over her in response. She cleared her throat, focusing her attention on the matter at hand. “Anouilh. Miller.”
“Modern playwrights,” Santiago said with an approving nod. “You have good taste.”
“And you know drama?” She prompted, reaching for her coffee cup and sipping the strong black liquid, appreciating its spice, even more so for the excuse it gave her to slip away from Guy a little. Goosebumps stayed on her shoulder though, tiny reminders of how easily he could unnerve her.
“My wife was a script writer,” he said with a smile that was unmistakably proud.
Addie turned to Guy, her surprise obvious. “You never mentioned that.”
“Didn’t I?” His eyes were watchful.
“She gave it up once we married,” Santiago said, with a sense of regret, and a shrug of shoulders that were far more slender than Addie had, at first, appreciated. “It’s how things were done back then.”
“Of course,” Addie murmured with understanding. “I’m sure she was happy pursuing other things.”
“She read,” he grinned. “Everything she could get her hands on. Books, plays, news. She had a voracious appetite for entertainment.” His expression was wistful.
“When did you lose her?”
