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JORDAN FELT THE subtle shift in their relationship—and, yes, she was allowing herself to use that word loosely in her head—over the course of the weekend.
Some things were obvious. Xavier barely set foot inside his study, for instance, and there were several occasions when his phone was conspicuous by its absence—like when she’d made him take her on a hike to the highest point on the estate, a spot he admitted with some chagrin he’d never walked to before, and when they’d meandered down to his private beach for a naked moonlit dip in the ocean.
Other things were less obvious. Like the times she would look up from her book or a task and find his gaze resting on her, his expression pensive, enigmatic. Once or twice she felt as though she were being quietly assessed—though for what purpose she couldn’t have said. The idea that he might be comparing her with former mistresses was, she discovered, an unpleasant thought that served only to send a hot streak of jealousy and insecurity through her.
‘What are you thinking, amante?’
She lifted her head off the lounger. Sprawled in the one alongside her, he was a mouthwatering sight in nothing but a pair of black swimming trunks. He’d just swum fifty lengths of the pool and droplets of water glistened in his chest hair and snaked in rivulets over his taut, well-defined musculature.
She adjusted her sunglasses and tried not to ogle him. ‘I’m not thinking about anything. I’m reading my book.’
‘You’ve stared at the same page for the last ten minutes.’
She dropped the book into her lap. ‘Men are not supposed to be that observant,’ she grumbled, then smiled when he chuckled. She couldn’t resist him in this mood.
‘So what’s on your mind?’ he pressed.
Jordan put her book aside, pulled her knees up to her chest. ‘Honestly?’
He looked at her, silent for a moment, as though sensing the tone of their conversation was about to change.
‘Sí,’ he invited. ‘Honestly.’
She pushed her sunglasses onto her head, even though it would have been easier to hide behind them. But she couldn’t always protect herself, could she? Lord knew she’d tried, ever since she was a child—making herself indispensable, ensuring she was needed, even choosing a profession that made her feel useful. Valued. But still she had lost the people she loved the most...her dad, Camila.
A week ago Xavier had accused her of running away, and he’d been right. Running away was easier than facing rejection. Hadn’t she even tried to leave his bed after the first time they’d made love? Fearing that if she didn’t he would throw her out of it? He hadn’t. Just as he hadn’t demanded she leave on Friday, after his mother had visited, even though—to her shame—one of her first thoughts had been to flee.
And now... Now she wanted to be brave. For herself. For Xavier. Because maybe this was more than just chemistry with an expiry date...
She took a deep breath. ‘I want to apologise. For something I said to you on our first evening together.’
He’d gone still, but she sensed it wasn’t an angry stillness.
‘Go on,’ he prompted.
She hugged her knees, swivelled round to face him. ‘I asked you if you would love your children as—as if there was a possibility you wouldn’t,’ she said quietly. ‘It was a terrible thing to imply, and I’m sorry. Yesterday, seeing you with your parents... Well, I could see how much you love and respect them, so family is obviously important to you. I imagine that when you have children you will love them very much.’
He was silent again. Jordan could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
Then he reached his hand across and circled her ankle, gently stroking his thumb over the top of her foot. ‘Thank you, querida. But your apology is not necessary. In those first days of our acquaintance I didn’t present myself in the best light. You weren’t unjustified in thinking the worst of me.’
Jordan breathed deeply again. That hadn’t been so hard...but this next bit might be.
‘Your parents are lovely, Xavier,’ she said with a soft smile. ‘And they so obviously adore each other after many years of marriage.’ She paused. ‘I wondered why, when you have such a beautiful example of a loving marriage, you would dismiss that for yourself.’
She felt his fingers tense on her ankle, the grip almost painful, but forced herself to finish.
‘Does it have anything to do with the woman you and Diego fought over?’
* * *
Xav saw her slight wince and withdrew his hand. He didn’t desire to have this conversation. He had told her before he wasn’t interested in the past and he meant it. But he recognised that she was looking for something from him. Something he feared he couldn’t give her.
Yet he could give her other things. More important things. More valuable things.
This, perhaps, was the opening he needed. One brief, uncomfortable conversation was an acceptable sacrifice to get what he wanted. And in the past forty-eight hours it had become crystal-clear in his mind that what he wanted was Jordan.
He shifted on the lounger, creating space and holding out his arm. ‘Come, querida.’
