That evening, when they’d finished eating dinner in the Madrid apartment, Skye said, ‘So what happens now?’
Lazaro put down his empty wine glass. ‘I’ve got some meetings here for the next couple of days. I’m working on a bid to renovate and rejuvenate one of Madrid’s oldest indoor markets. I want to turn it back into a functioning market space—which it hasn’t been for nearly fifty years. There’ll be flower shops and craft shops, food stalls... A performance space, and an art gallery.’
‘That sounds really cool.’
A grim look came over Lazaro’s face. ‘It would if I wasn’t up against—’ He stopped.
Skye ventured a guess. ‘Up against your half-brother?’
He nodded. ‘Gabriel Torres wants to turn it into a multi-functional space too, but more commercial—a restaurant, hotel...car park.’
Skye could sense his tension and said, as lightly as she could, ‘I might be biased, but I like your idea better.’
He said, ‘I have to go there in the morning, to finalise some details on the bid which is happening in a couple of weeks at a public consultation. Come with me, if you like?’
Warmth flooded Skye, and she couldn’t stop a smile forming. ‘Oh...okay. I’d like that.’
Lazaro smiled. ‘Oh?’
She made a face. A moment stretched between them, light and delicate. Skye felt breathless when she realised Lazaro was smiling more. Really smiling. In a way that made him look younger. Carefree.
He stood up and her heart beat fast. If he touched her now... She felt as if she had no armour to protect her from falling even harder...
But he said, ‘I’ve got some work to do this evening. You should relax—it’s been a long couple of days.’
And nights, Skye thought.
A mixture of relief and disappointment flowed through her, but she affected a breezy tone. ‘That’s fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I can entertain myself. I’m quite tired, actually.’
He nodded. ‘See you in the morning, Skye.’
When he’d left Skye sat back and deflated like a balloon. She realised she was tired. Achingly so.
She helped the housekeeper to clear the table, in spite of her protests, and then she went to her bedroom. Lazaro hadn’t said anything about sharing a room with her, so she wasn’t sure what would happen, but she was grateful for some time to process everything.
She decided to take a long, luxurious bath before she went to bed, her hands travelling over the compact swell of her belly under the water. She was tempted to dream of what it might be like—her, Lazaro and the little one—but she was afraid to.
Because she knew the reality would be far different. And she needed to prepare herself for the inevitable.
* * *
It was a mistake to bring her, thought Lazaro as his attention wandered again to where Skye was walking around the balcony on the upper level with one of his team, who was pointing things out to her.
She was wearing jeans, and she had a hi-vis jacket on and a hard hat. Yet he wanted her. Even now. Here. He’d wanted her last night too, but he’d forced himself to resist the overwhelming temptation to forget about everything and lose himself in her.
He told himself that he was a fool. What man married to a woman he wanted, who wanted him, denied himself the pleasure? This desire was finite. It had to be, Lazaro thought with a sense of desperation.
He gritted his jaw and turned back to the people he was with, trying hard to focus on what they were saying.
* * *
‘I loved it,’ Skye said a couple of hours later when they were in the back of Lazaro’s car. ‘I love the fact that it’s covered, and all the wrought-iron and glass. It looks like something futuristic but also old.’
Lazaro ran a hand through his hair. ‘My team seem to be having trouble trying to figure out a logo and branding for it. But you’ve grasped its essence after one viewing while they’ve been looking at it for months.’
A burst of pleasure made Skye’s heart thump. ‘Sometimes it’s easier to see something with fresh eyes. May I?’ She held out a hand to look at the bid proposal Lazaro was holding.
He handed it to her. ‘Be my guest.’