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OP AM??
Operation Amnesia. I’m prepared to offer for the movie rights.
Javier stared at his phone, trying to work out if his oldest friend was joking. Clearly he had taken too long because the next message came through before he could reply.
Is Emily back?
Santi had been there the night he’d first met Emily. They had, in fact, been at the bar so that Santi could finally work up the courage to ask out Mariana—which had taken perhaps a little too much whisky, but had been successful nonetheless. Santi had been insufferably in love then and had been more than a little smug in the intervening years with his exceedingly happy marriage—to the point of trying to meddle in his own.
They had almost come to blows when Javier wouldn’t go after Emily. It was the first—and only—real argument they’d ever had. But even his closest friend couldn’t understand the devastating betrayal of Emily’s sudden, silent departure from his life. How it had made old wounds run with fresh blood. No. Javier could never have gone after her.
Santi hadn’t understood that, but it didn’t stop him from being closer to him than a brother, one of the best filmmakers in the world,andthe reason that Javier had made his first million. The nail-biting seven months Javier had to wait to find out whether his investment in Santiago’s first film would pay off had been the most stressful of his life. He had been so unsure of success that he’d worked nineteen-hour days to cover the financial gap in his business in case it didn’t pay off—unwilling to tell his uncle what he had done, knowing Gael wouldn’t understand, and knowing that he could never have admitted to Emily that he had taken such a risk.
But Javier had knownit would work. And it had. Spectacularly. From there on out, Javier became one of Santiago’s main investors—the revenue from the film industry a small fortune in its own right. And in Javier’s hands money turned into property and investments and companies, ranging from import to technology, communications and media.Infierno, he doubted even he could say the names of all the companies he part owned or funded.
He had amassed a fortune that had brought him to the attention of the highest—and sometimes most secretive—echelons of society and he had determined to do as much good as he could with his wealth.
But somehow that didn’t matter a damn when Santi had asked,Is Emily back?His fist tightened around the phone as he jabbed out his reply.
Not yet. But she will be.
Emily’s calves were hurting after stalking the upward winding cobbled streets of Frigiliana, but it was a good hurt. A physical one. It somehow soothed the emotional hurt she’d felt before fleeing their home. She had overreacted, she realised now. Not to Javier, not to the situation.That, she felt justified in. But she was embarrassed by how quickly her plan had backfired. Clearly she couldn’t be trusted anywhere near Javier’s lips, or hands...or body for that matter.
Even now the thought of it made her pulse leap, her skin flush and filled her with that indescribable yearning that flared low in her body. She looked up in time to dodge a tourist couple taking photographs in front of the spectacular bougainvillea pouring down the white walls of the town like a fountain.
She’d had no particular destination in mind when she’d left, but now her feet traced paths she’d taken with Javier when they had first come to Frigiliana, hand in hand, or tucked under the wide protection of his shoulders. The way his hand would trace the hemline of her skirt, caressing her thigh secretively and sending her wild. The way he would stop and talk to almost every shop owner or business owner, a question and an interest in everyone and everything. And she hadn’t minded. She’d just soaked it all up.
Six years ago she’d unfurled beneath the sun and Javier’s heated touch. She’d felt herself becoming the woman she was always supposed to be. Colourful, bright, happy. It had been so different from the beige, bored silence of the home she had shared with her mother and Steven. And she’d found herself angry with her mother all over again. Not for herself but for what her mother had lost. Because she too had once lived in the bright colours of summer. When Emily was young, her mother had been bright and bold. She had laughed and loved and lavished her attention on her daughter. But Steven had stolen that light, dimmed it. After they married it was as if her mother laughed to fill a silence, not because there had been joy. And the betrayal that Emily had felt...it had devastated her and confused her, scratched at her heart, making her feel guilty, angry, hurt and selfish.
She was suddenly the spoiled only child who didn’t want to share her mother. But it wasn’t that. Not at all. It was just that the woman who married Steven wasn’t the same woman who had been her mother. And it had felt like the slowest loss played out in front of her each night as, hour by hour, her mother changed into someone who revolved only around her husband, as if she were sacrificing slices of herself over and over again until there was nothing left of the mother that Emily had once known.
Emily went to brush away the sudden trail of ice on her cheek, only to realise that a tear had fallen. She shook off the memories of the past and looked around at the town that had changed only a little in the last six years. Some of the shops were different, but there was still the silver jewellery shop on the first fork in the path, the bakery that would sell out before nine in the morning, the tourist shops with racks of sunglasses and hats for the unprepared. But it was the patterned cobbles that she loved the most, the little courtyards tucked off the main walkways behind peeling iron gates, and the Hand of Fatima door knockers standing out against painted doors.
As she continued down the cobbled street she saw a shop she didn’t remember. SpaceWhale’s doorway was framed by large green palms and snake plants, enticing Emily into the welcoming shade and away from the intense heat of the mid-morning. Inside she found a cornucopia of delights. Stunning prints and photographs, hypnotic incense and candles, jewellery, books, stationery. Not knowing where to look first, she found herself drawn to the scents and couldn’t resist picking up a small bottle of perfume that was rich and sensual and felt as if it belonged to the wife of Javier Casas more than herself in that moment. Without questioning it, she paid for the perfume and took the shop’s card—instinctively knowing that she would come back, either for herself or for her clients.
On her way out, she noticed a board pinned with announcements and local adverts. A picture of the most hideous cat she’d ever seen had caught the attention of several passers-by and a lot of laughter. As she drew closer, she read the announcement.
Ready for rehoming.
Be warned, this cat is possessed.
Emily hid a laugh behind her hand, but couldn’t resist reading on. It warned of an evil cat that hissed, snapped, bit and clawed. It had been placed with seven different homes now and not one had lasted more than two days. Notoriously violent with men, the notice concluded with the challenge of rehoming...if you dare.
Eyes narrowed, smile pulling at the corner of her lips, Emily began to plan.
Two hours later Emily was unloading bags, boxes, trays, cases and more bags from the taxi she’d had to get to drive her home. She’d had to pay the driver extra because of her precious cargo, so she was surprised that he got out to help her unload, until she realised it was so he could get rid of them as quickly as possible.
Deciding it was safe to leave the bags outside while she unlocked the door, that giddy thrill of doing something wicked fizzed in her bloodstream again. Meeting Javier’s nefariousness with her own was becoming an addictive game. One she warned herself against enjoying too much because, for the first time in a very long time, she wasenjoyingherself.Pitting her intelligence against Javier’s was exciting.
She opened the front door and hooked it back against the wall and—
Gasped.
Javier was on the floor with his hand pressed against his head. She rushed over to him, horror flooding her veins and a sob stuck in her throat.
‘Javi! Are you okay? What happened?’ She cursed as she reached him, her hands shaking and her whole body trembling.
His unfocused eyes found hers and his expression changed to one of concern. He reached out and caught her wrists to steady her, his eyes snagging on the tears of shock filling her vision. ‘Emily, what’s wrong?’
