He clenched his back teeth together.
‘Camila didn’t have any living relatives left in Spain,’ she went on. ‘So you wouldn’t have to worry about...you know... Running into someone you’re related to...’ She trailed off and was silent for a moment. ‘Look, I’ll understand if you’re not interested. But I’m going anyway. I was planning to hire a car, but Delmar has offered to drive me—’
‘No.’ The word shot from his mouth like a bullet from a gun he hadn’t intended to fire.
She blinked. ‘Okay...’ Her voice was tinged with disappointment. ‘I understand...’
He doubted she did, because he sure as hell didn’t. Admitting curiosity about his birth mother was one thing. Traipsing up the country to visit her birthplace was quite another. But the alternative—Jordan spending the day with Delmar...
‘No,’ he repeated. ‘You misunderstand. I mean Delmar will not be driving you. I will.’
Her eyes went wide. ‘Really?’
‘Sí,’ he said, and the smile that broke out on her face then was so radiant his heartbeat lost its rhythm for a moment.
She brought her clasped hands beneath her chin and rose on her toes, and for a second he thought she was going to do something unexpected like lean in and hug him.
Hastily he stepped back, the mere thought of her soft body pressed against his making his blood heat and that huge bed beckon enticingly.
A fine layer of sweat broke out on his skin. ‘I’ll have Rosa bring a tray with your dessert. Given that we’ll be out tomorrow, I’ll need to do some work this evening. I will see you in the morning. I’ll ask Rosa to serve breakfast at eight,’ he said, and pivoted on his heel.
‘Xavier.’
Hearing her speak his forename in that soft, husky voice of hers pulled him up short, in spite of his eagerness to retreat.
Reluctantly he turned and she came towards him, that damned envelope in her hand.
‘You should take this,’ she said.
He hesitated and weighed his options. Reject the letter and risk shattering that soft, hopeful look on her face, or take it and keep the peace?
He took it.
In his study, he dropped the envelope on his desk, went to the sideboard to pour a drink and came back to his desk to sit down. He swallowed a mouthful of brandy and shifted his gaze from the envelope to the manila folder containing the confidentiality agreement he’d left out in readiness on the corner of his desk.
A clear vision filled his head of Jordan ripping the document into pieces and hurling them in his face.
He finished his brandy in one large gulp, then grabbed the folder and shoved it into a drawer, slid the envelope in after it and slammed the drawer closed.
One day, he told himself as he opened his laptop and made a start on his emails.
One day he would read the letter his birth mother had written to him.
But not tonight.
* * *
The scenery along the stretch of coastline known as the Costa Brava was breathtaking. Jordan had grown up in a small coastal township south of Melbourne, so she was used to ocean and beaches, but the glittering shores of the Mediterranean were in a different class altogether. Each time the sleek convertible powered around another bend, and a new stunning vista opened up before them, she couldn’t suppress a little gasp of awe.
Another one caught in her throat now, and Xavier glanced over from the driver’s seat.
‘Spectacular, sí?’
He was spectacular. As riveting as the scenery in faded jeans and a loose-fitting white shirt with an open collar and rolled-up sleeves. Stubble shaded his jaw and she liked this edgier look on him. He wore dark sunglasses, and his thick black hair was deliciously ruffled thanks to the car’s open top.
Every time she looked at him her breath went a little choppy, but it was the moments when he smiled—when his mouth loosened and those deep, attractive grooves appeared in his lean cheeks—that her breath was snatched away completely.
‘Stunning,’ she agreed, and with an effort peeled her gaze off him and looked out of her side of the car, feeling slightly giddy as she peered down the steep pine-covered cliffs that plunged into the sparkling blue water below.