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Xav felt his chest expand. He’d thought he could handle this alone, but now his family were here he was overwhelmed by the strength of his gratitude. By the strength of their unconditional love.
His mother took him aside. ‘How is Jordan?’
‘She’s all right.’
His conscience pricked. He had no idea if that was true. He hadn’t had time to chase her after she’d stalked from his study. He’d had to get himself here.
A sudden cold sweat hit between his shoulder blades. Was she at this very minute packing her bag? Preparing to run?
He fisted his hands, a silent, primal scream rising inside him. He could not lose her.
Damn this board meeting.
Damn Hector and Diego.
Lucia popped her head in. ‘Everyone’s here and waiting in the boardroom.’
His mother sat down. ‘Good luck, mis queridos. I shall wait here.’
The meeting was hellish, worsened by the unexpected presence of a smirking Diego.
‘He’s a shareholder—and family,’ Hector blustered when Ramon challenged Diego’s attendance.
When the PR Director started outlining a multi-faceted strategy for mitigating the reputational risk Xav tuned out. He wanted out of there. Needed to be out of there. Jordan could be running right now. To an airport, a train station, a ferry terminal, a bus depot. Did he have enough people to cover every possible departure point?
Afterwards the PR guy asked Xav to hang back for a quick word. He gritted his teeth and checked his watch. ‘You have one minute.’
Ramon waited in the anteroom, one shoulder propped against the wall. Across the space Diego lingered, looking at his phone.
Xav walked past without acknowledging him, then stopped abruptly and swung back. ‘What did you say?’
Diego was smug. ‘I said are you rushing home to slutty sis?’
In a move thirty years overdue Xav swung his fist, his knuckles connecting with Diego’s nose with a painful but savagely satisfying crunch. Diego went down on one knee, clutching his bloodied nose, his watering eyes agog.
Xav leaned down. ‘You’re talking about my future wife and the woman I love,’ he snarled. ‘So watch your mouth, cousin.’
On his way to the car he called Lucia. ‘I’m not coming back to the office.’
‘Peter Reynaud has just called. He wants to video conference this afternoon.’
‘Tell him I’m not available.’
If the deal went belly-up, so be it.
* * *
Xav’s heart thundered as he navigated the final stretch of winding road up to the villa.
Despair outweighed hope. Thirteen times he’d called her mobile. Thirteen times he’d got her voicemail.
He had only himself to blame. What reasons had he given her to stay? Plenty, he’d thought until today—but they were the wrong reasons. He’d tried to seduce her with a taste of the lifestyle he could provide, but Jordan couldn’t be bought.
Only one thing mattered to her, and it was the one thing he’d refused to give. He’d wanted Jordan in his life, but on his terms. And, frankly, his terms had sucked.
He slammed to a stop in front of the villa, frowning at the blue Mercedes sedan in the courtyard.
Hope grabbed a foothold.
