A Deal Before the Altar

‘Would that be the moment you kissed me at the party, or the morning you all but seduced me into staying on the yacht? Or the times when all your acting skills were called upon so that you could cover for Emma and Carlo running off to get married?’

The cynicism in his voice lashed at her like hail, each word stinging. How could he still believe she had had any part in it?

‘I had no part whatsoever in their marriage,’ she fumed at him, frustration rising like a spring tide. ‘They deceived me too, Santos.’ She stood facing him across the office, the expanse of soft cream carpet seeming to grow bigger between them with every passing second. ‘They were desperate.’

‘Back to that again, are we?’

Each word was like a bullet in her heart, each one wounding her further.

‘I can see that whatever I say won’t make any difference to you, Santos. You’re incapable of love.’

‘I made that perfectly clear from our very first meeting.’

In exasperation she covered her face with her hands briefly, dropped her head and took in a long, shuddering breath. She couldn’t take it any more, and gave vent to her frustration. ‘You’re so cold, so proud, and so damned stubborn. It was a mistake coming here.’

She pulled her jacket tighter about her body, as if it would deflect the hurt. For a moment his gaze lowered, caught by the movement. He took a step closer to her, his eyes meeting hers once more. She stepped back instinctively, needing space to be able to think.

‘So why did you come, mi esposa? Tell me. Why?’

His accent became heavy and to her dismay he moved closer still, rendering thought almost impossible.

She whirled round and grabbed the papers from his desk, knocking her briefcase to the floor in the process. ‘To sign these.’ She waved the papers at him furiously. ‘To put an end to something that should never have been started.’

‘You could have sent them via your solicitor.’ His calm voice irritated her further.

‘And I wish I had. But I was taking a chance—a gamble.’ She watched as he frowned, his dark eyes narrowing. ‘I had to know.’

He said nothing, as if he was trying to take in what she said, so she dropped the papers on the desk purposefully, picked up a pen and signed, tossing the pen back onto the polished surface next to the papers.

‘And now I do.’

* * *

Santos watched her sign the papers, listened as the pen crashed to the table. Each breath was hard to take, as if he was being suffocated. He hurt. Pain raced through him.

Even as she walked across the office he couldn’t say a word, couldn’t move, as if he’d been frozen in time. What the hell was the matter with him?

Something snapped, as if chains had broken. He inhaled deeply. The noise caught her attention and she turned to look at him. Her face was pale.

‘I know I was a fool.’ She threw the words at him as if he was nothing more than dirt at the edge of the road. ‘I gambled and I lost.’

He tried to make sense of her words. What was she trying to tell him?

Not the way I love you.

His mind replayed what she’d said moments before. Purposefully he moved towards her, and when she turned again panic tore through him. If she left now he’d never see her again. He couldn’t let her go. Not yet. He loved her; he’d just refused to admit it.

‘I gambled too.’

The words hurried out and he clenched his hands, trying to keep himself from reaching for her, from preventing her from leaving.

She spun round and faced him again, her eyes sparkling with molten gold. ‘Not with emotions, you didn’t.’

She moved towards the door so suddenly he was taken off guard.

‘You gambled with your brother’s happiness, your greed. You won, Santos, and I hope you’re happy.’

Happy? He was the furthest thing from happy. He hadn’t felt like this since the day his mother had calmly left, saying goodbye as if she was just going shopping.

‘Georgina.’

He tried to form the words, tried to tell her he hadn’t gambled with Carlo’s happiness—at least not intentionally. He wanted to tell her he’d gambled his own—and hers. Something he hadn’t even realised until just a few seconds ago.

‘Don’t, Santos. I don’t want to hear how you’re driven by power and the need to control everything.’

‘That may have been true once.’ The words rushed out and for the first time in his adult life he knew he was losing.

‘And it still is.’ Her words were softer now, as if she’d given up fighting.

Mutely he watched as she opened the office door and paused in the doorway.

‘Goodbye, Santos.’