‘Would you?’ he murmured, mocking her, she was sure.
‘I’d love to,’ she parried, guessing this might be the one and only time she got one step ahead of Don Xavier.
CHAPTER FIVE
THIS WAS WORSE than he’d thought. The tour took far longer than he’d expected. So long, it was almost dark by the time they had finished with the house. How long had he been away from the island? He hadn’t thought it long enough for everything to fall into ruin. His expression had remained carefully neutral throughout, but both he and Rosie knew that if he’d spared his aunt some time he could have stopped the rot in its tracks. Things were so bad it would be better to demolish the hacienda and then rebuild it. Even here on the deck in the shadows of dusk he could see the timbers were rotting beneath his feet.
Rosie watched him as he walked, brooding. Buying her out and then keeping her on to act as a link between his team and the islanders had been one possibility, but that possibility was gone now. She might be well respected on the island, but the work required was way beyond her scope to direct. He had tried telling himself that this was just one more business negotiation amongst many, but the agony on Rosie’s face when he uncovered each new flaw had found a way past his defences. His expression alone must have told her that the house was beyond repair. It should be demolished before there was an accident.
At least he understood why Doña Anna had been so keen to keep him away. She had hated change, and must have closed her eyes to the deterioration. She had been fiercely proud, refusing all his offers of help. He had begged her to accept professional care when her health had begun to fail, and money for the island as well, but she had turned him down on both counts, insisting that the island was doing very well, thank you, and she would source her next companion from one of the many charities he funded. With the prince’s prompting, Rosie Clifton had seemed the obvious choice. If he’d only known then how things would work out—
‘Something wrong?’ he called after Rosie, who was heading back inside the house at speed.
‘I’m cold. I need a cardigan. Please...make yourself at—’
He heard the break in her voice, and guessed the blinkers were well and truly off. Seeing everything through his eyes had been an unwelcome wake-up call. Only a matter of days ago, he would have thought her tears a good thing. Of course she would cry. Of course the helpless little orphan would look to him to save the day, but the situation had turned out to be far more complicated than that. He understood property, and could take a realistic view. Rosie only knew that this was Doña Anna’s home, and as such she thought the hacienda was inviolable.
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At least she understood the enormity of the task now. She had no option but to sign the documents. She couldn’t raise the money. She’d already tried, and failed. She had to accept that only his wealth could save the island. He was offering far more than her share was worth in recognition of her care of his aunt. But Rosie’s job was done now, and it was time for her to move on. If she proved foolish and refused to take his money, his lawyers would take over. Whatever Rosie decided, the outcome would be the same. He wouldn’t allow his judgement to be clouded by his growing interest in some young girl, and he had never entered into a negotiation without it ending in success for him. The only difference this time was some slight regret that Rosie’s sunny optimism would move on, out of his life. That, and the thought of some other man putting his hands on her, which made his hackles rise. It was time to remind himself once and for all that Señorita Clifton had no place in his life.
* * *
She’d done the one thing she had vowed not to do, Rosie fretted, tense with frustration and anger because she’d shown her feelings; something she had learned not to do in the orphanage. Don Xavier had undone her control in a couple of hours. And now she had run away from a problem—several problems: the house, the island, her inheritance, and him. She was currently locked down in the sanctuary of her bedroom, trying to work out what to do next. It wasn’t as if she had any experience in high level negotiations. During the tour, he’d found fault with everything. That hurt when this was the only home she’d ever known. But it didn’t mean she was going to roll over and sell out. She had to find a way out of this, or squads of men in steel-capped boots would be marching over the islanders’ carefully tended fields in no time flat. And, yes, the house was dilapidated. She was even prepared to believe it was as dangerous as he’d said, but both house and island deserved a second chance.
‘What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger,’ Doña Anna used to say. She had to keep on with the regular meetings she’d set up with the islanders, and lobbying the big food chains until one of them came on board with her ideas. She wouldn’t give up until the very last hope was extinguished. And when that light went out, she’d think of something else.
Sitting bolt upright on the bed, she stared up stubbornly at the damp patches on the ceiling to make a vow that Isla Del Rey would never become another of Don Xavier’s flashy hotel schemes. She would fight on, as Doña Anna had done all her life. ‘Whatever it takes,’ the old lady used to say, ‘we must keep the island authentic, Rosie.’ And if Rosie had to keep Don Xavier in a headlock until he backed off, she’d somehow find the strength to do it.
* * *
She was gone so long he decided to go upstairs to choose a bedroom.
Preferably one with Señorita Clifton in it—
He killed that thought stone dead. He could afford no distractions. The work here couldn’t wait. He’d brought an overnight bag, guessing his inspection might take some time—
‘Señorita Clifton!’ He had almost barged into her as she came bowling out of her room. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked, steadying her. He could feel her tension as well as her fire beneath his hands. Her eyes were black with passion as she stared up at him.
‘Don Xavier!’ she flashed as if riding the crest of a wave of anger.
‘What’s eating you?’ he said.
‘Your plans to wreck the island, if you must know,’ she flared.
Too many hormones; too few avenues for them to escape, he concluded as he huffed a short laugh. ‘You obviously know more about my plans than I do.’
‘So you deny that you’re going to level the land and build another of your hotel schemes on the island?’
Her breasts were rising and falling rapidly as she sucked in air. She was a wild little animal, he thought as he stared down into her impassioned face. Curled up close in her burrow most of the time, she was a tigress when she set herself free.
‘Nothing is decided yet, so may I suggest you calm down?’
‘Don’t patronise me. Calm down?’ she derided. ‘You’d better let me go,’ she warned.
Yes. He better had. He’d been hanging on to her all this time, and she hadn’t exactly been fighting him off.
‘I know you must be upset by what I’ve shown you today,’ he said, trying for a reasoned tone, ‘but I have a duty to point out the dangers when you’re living in the house.’