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His eyes bore into hers for several long seconds and then he turned and left, without so much as a goodbye. And she was glad. Glad he’d left, because suddenly her eyes stung with tears and she desperately didn’t want him to see them, to know he’d done that, to know how he could affect her.
A moment later, she heard the helicopter whir to life and expelled a soft, shaking sigh.
It was a blessing that Graciano was so busy. The takeover was in the final stages of negotiations, an occupation he generally relished, for it was at the end that the advantage was all his. By then, he understood his opponent—and he always regarded the company he was buying as the opposition—and he knew which buttons to push to achieve his aims.
He usually relished focusing with a laser-like intensity on the final meetings, but today he was distracted—not enough to negatively impact his work, but enough to drag him down to the level of being a mere mortal, so he was angry with himself as the day wore on, and his mind felt more scattered than he could remember it feeling.
Graciano closed the door gratefully after his meeting, and paced to the windows overlooking Barcelona. The unique city with its striking architecture always filled his heart with satisfaction. It was here that he’d come when he had nothing, here that he’d built a fortune. This was his home—his place in the world, his land of opportunities. It was here that he was king of his castle. But his eyes gravitated south, in the direction of the sea just beyond Valencia, and in his mind, he was approaching the island and Alicia was in the turret, waiting for him, watching for him—needing and wanting him.
He swore under his breath, dragging a hand through his hair. This was messier than he’d appreciated. Harder than he’d thought. She was taking him over on a cellular level and he had no idea how to stop it, but he knew that he must. He knew that he couldn’t let her become his sun and moon ever again—no one could be trusted to wield that kind of power. The whole point of this exercise was to prove he was stronger than the power she wielded over him—that he’d changed, grown, beyond Alicia and the way she made him feel.
It was here, in the office, in the corporate world, that he was at his best. Here, life was simple. He could control everything. He didn’t care what people thought of him. He didn’t care what enemies he made. There was an objective measure for success—financial achievement—and it was the only benchmark he cared about.
Alicia’s place in his life and mind had to be as tightly controlled as any other facet of his life. Determination fired inside of him, and without skipping a beat, he moved to his desk and lifted his phone from the cradle.
‘Book me a dinner somewhere. And call Isabella to let her know I’ll be in the city tonight, rather than returning to the island.’
He hung up, wondering why having made that firm decision didn’t feel better—why the expected weight, instead of lifting from his shoulders, seemed to have thudded deep inside his gut.
Alicia stared, frowning, at the empty chair, the nerves that had been fraying all day now jolting through her.
He wasn’t coming back tonight.
The message had been relayed by Isabella with a casual air. After all, the housekeeper could have no idea how much Alicia was looking forward to seeing Graciano, how she’d been building up to asking him why he’d been in such a strange mood that morning.
Isabella couldn’t have known what kind of rejection there was in those simple words.
But Alicia did.
She felt it deep in her soul.
There was no more effective way of telling her he regretted what had happened between them than by showing her, and that was exactly what he was doing. Could he put any more distance between them than he already was?
She stabbed her fork into the piece of fish, lifting it to her mouth and forcing herself to chew when she was no longer hungry. She’d skipped lunch, though, and she knew she should eat, but every time she went through the motions of putting food in her mouth, it became harder and harder to swallow.
Sleeping together had been a mistake. She’d let herself believe things could be different for them, but that had been a fool’s paradise. Even if Graciano were capable of change, even if she were able to put her heart on the line again, nothing would change the fact that she’d kept their daughter from him, that he’d made it impossible to tell him, and then she’d accepted that. They both had a right for far too much resentment. There could be no coming back from that. There was no hope here.
She had to tell him about Annie. Not because of what had happened between them, but because it was the right thing to do. Annie was his daughter. He needed to know.
But...was that selfish? He’d made it clear he didn’t want children. His answers on that score were unequivocal. Telling him might feel right to her—it might even feel good—but what if he chose to have nothing to do with Annie? What if Annie’s existence ruined his life in some way?
She groaned softly, dropping her head forward with the sheer weight of worry that was pounding her from either side. She had no idea what to do, but sitting here pining for him wasn’t an option.
Que cada palo aguante su vela.Every mast has its own sail.
She was her own person, more so now than she’d been at sixteen, when she’d had to submit to the strings of her life being pulled without her say so. Now she could pull back.
And there was no way in hell she was going to stay on this island, as much a prisoner as the original occupant of this house, desperately waiting for the scattered attentions of a man who didn’t, or couldn’t, be everything she wanted.
She had to leave.
CHAPTER NINE
HE’DPUSHEDHIMSELFto remain away most of the following day, too. He told himself the emotion coursing through him was that of satisfaction, that he was glad he’d been able to resist her, to continue with his normal life. He refused to acknowledge the powerful zipping in his veins, the almost superhuman strength bursting inside of him that was the result of knowing he’d see her again soon—that his abstinence would be rewarded. They could share a meal; he could watch her and listen to her and admire her, then draw her to his room and make love to her all night long, safe in the knowledge his willpower was stronger than his need for her. Control. It was everything.
His body hardened as the helicopter came down low over the island, exulting in the prospect of the night ahead.
Until he looked out of the window and saw Alicia standing in the middle of the path that approached the helipad, just as he’d stood when she’d arrived days earlier. There was nothing untoward about that. He might even have found it exciting, except for the suitcase at her side and the impenetrable mask of steel her features bore.
