CHAPTER TWENTY

THE YELLOW MUSLIN whispered over Calandra’s skin as she moved about the ballroom, the fabric as soft as a lover’s touch, as delicate as butterfly wings. When she’d seen herself in the mirror for the first time, she couldn’t stop the smile from breaking across her face.

When she worked for Cabrera Wines, she’d been based in New York, and she’d shopped at the same designer’s store on Madison Avenue. A wonderfully competent saleswoman named Brittany had known her preferences: dark colors, clean lines and simple silhouettes. The clothing had made her feel powerful, in control and, when needed, it gave her the ability to fade in the background and let her work take center stage.

Now, for the second time in her life, she felt beautiful. Not authoritative, not proficient, but feminine, lovely.

If she’d known herself capable of this level of happiness, she would have let down her walls much sooner. La Reina’s event was a success. Judging by the whispers she overhead as she’d walked around the ballroom, the board would vote in Alejandro’s favor.

And tonight, after the meeting, she would tell Alejandro she loved him. The attraction that had taken root in New York had only strengthened. Except last night it been more than just physical attraction. That blind trust had reached out and ensnared her, heart and soul.

Because she wasn’t just counting down the days until she could fly home, check in hand and Alejandro out of her life. No, she was dreaming of her and Alejandro, standing together, a baby cradled between them as he kissed her on the forehead.

Because I’m in love.

As soon as she’d seen the box, she’d known what was inside. She’d reverently undone the bow and unwrapped the tissue paper. Her first glimpse of the sunshine-yellow fabric had brought tears to her eyes.

When she donned the gown, along with the accompanying silver sandals, she’d never felt so beautiful in her entire life. She’d even twirled in front of the mirror. Johanna wouldn’t have believed it even if she’d seen it.

She glanced around the ballroom. Adrian and Everleigh were off to the side. Judging by Everleigh’s failed attempts at covertly glancing at her stomach, Adrian had told her about the baby.

The older woman she’d seen in Paris was with them, too. She caught Calandra’s eye and raised her champagne glass with a smile. Calandra cautiously smiled back. Had Alejandro told her about them? About the baby?

Although there wasn’t really a “them” to speak of yet. Yes, they’d had another incredible night of sex. They’d shared their deepest secrets. They’d held hands on the drive back to Marseille and he’d gifted her this beautiful dress.

Uncertainty flickered through her. He wanted to be involved with the baby. She thought she’d seen the same emotion, the same passion in his eyes.

But he hadn’t said it. His voice, too, just before they’d fallen asleep at the inn, lurked on the edges of her memory. He’d been on the verge of saying something.

Stop.

She was borrowing trouble. The meeting would happen in an hour. Then she’d tell him how she felt.

Five minutes later, Alejandro still hadn’t reappeared with his father. A quick glance confirmed everything was continuing smoothly. After a quick word to the assistant she’d hired for the evening from a local agency—one she’d strongly recommend Alejandro hire full-time—she walked out of the ballroom.

He doesn’t need rescuing.

No, Alejandro most certainly could handle himself. But he didn’t have to face his father and whatever eleventh-hour obstacle he was trying to throw in his path.

The low murmur of voices reached her ears. As she continued down the grand foyer, they grew louder. She started to call out when Alejandro’s voice, harsh with anguish, echoed down the hall.

“What if I can’t break the cycle?”

Cycle? Had something else happened to the ships in construction?

“You’re a strong man. You’re capable.”

Unexpected words from Javier.

“But if I can’t?”

She continued forward, ready to break in, to tell Javier once and for all to end his attacks on his middle son.

And then the older Cabrera’s words froze her in place.

“If you can’t, then don’t get married. Don’t have children. Don’t risk hurting a woman who deserves none of the pain men like us are capable of causing. If you don’t know for sure that you want that in your life, then it’s not worth it.”

She waited for Alejandro’s rebuttal, for him to tell Javier that he was indeed having a child, that he and Calandra had discovered something special in the midst of their mutually painful histories.

Each beat of silence drove the stake deeper into her heart. Her vision blurred, and for a moment she was standing next to her mother’s bedside, hand on her cool cheek and frantically whispered words begging her mother not to leave her. Not when they’d been so close to having everything back to the way it should be.

The memory faded, replaced by the sparkling chandeliers brightening La Reina’s halls. Just as she had that morning so many years ago, she drew up, drawing strength from some inner source as she locked her emotions away where they couldn’t betray her. She backed away and walked back to the ballroom, her footsteps thankfully muffled by the thick carpet.

This was why she’d kept the walls around her heart, why love and marriage had never been an option after Mom’s death. Because the brief, exquisite happiness she’d found this past week made the fall so much worse.

Her initial fear had been accurate. She’d fallen into the same trap as her mother, drawn in by a handsome face and charming words, dreaming of forever when she’d only been a fleeting interest, a novelty in his glitzy world. She’d thought he’d truly wanted her. The baby. After yesterday...a life. Together.

But he’d stayed silent. Alejandro, the man who always had a snappy comeback or a witty comment at the ready, had stayed silent. She’d heard his answer in that silence, loud and clear.

At least, she consoled herself as she moved around the room, she’d found out before she did something stupid like confess her feelings to him. She would be strong. Stronger than her mother. Stronger than the weak woman she’d allowed herself to be this past week. A temporary lapse. But one that tonight, after the party, she would rectify.

After another round of the ballroom, a few words of direction to a slightly harried-looking server and a check-in with her assistant later, Alejandro reentered.

His gaze landed on her. The cracks in her heart ripped open.

He came up to her, eyes blank, face devoid of a smile.

“I’d like to speak with you after the party.” The smallest glimmer came into his eyes. “The board voted unanimously to support La Reina.”

Somehow she smiled and forced herself to reach out, pat him on the arm. “Congratulations.”

He leaned down, kissed her cheek and moved away toward a group of older gentlemen. She barely stopped herself from reaching up to the touch the spot where his lips had brushed. The light caress had been casual, like a kiss you might give a friend you hadn’t seen in a while. Not a woman you loved.

The final confirmation, like a dagger to the heart.

The next three hours passed agonizingly slowly. But finally the last guest left, the band started to pack up and Suzie’s students began to clear the tables.

Alejandro appeared by her side.

“Ready to go home?”

“Yes.” More than ready. She never wanted to set foot in France again. It would be too painful.

He held out an arm. She took it, her fingers settling on his sleeve, and allowed him to escort her down the elegant hallway of the ship. A ship she’d come to care about, to see as a grand old lady getting a second chance at life.

Another loss. Another reason why forming emotional attachments was such a bad idea.

The drive back to the villa was silent. Unlike the comfort of yesterday’s drive back from Provence, this one was fraught with tension. Alejandro either ignored her cool detachment or was too consumed by his own thoughts to notice.

No matter, she reassured herself. She didn’t need him. Not anymore.

He pulled up in front of the villa, the white stairs glowing in the moonlight. He got out, came round before she had her seat belt unbuckled and opened the door for her.

“Home.”

She breathed in. “No. It’s not.”

Her words hung in the stillness of the night as Alejandro’s attention suddenly riveted on her.

“What?”

“I heard what you and your father were talking about.”

How had everything gone so wrong so quickly? Alejandro rubbed the bridge of his nose. Four hours ago he’d been in love, his certainty in the success of the first project that was truly his allowing him to entertain thoughts of shopping for a ring for the mother of his child.

And then his father, with surprisingly good intentions, had once again taken his life and turned it on its head.

“You don’t think you’re capable, do you? Of being a father, of...” Her voice trailed off, choked with emotion. He moved forward, to hold her close like he had at the inn, but she held up a hand. “Of committing,” she finished.

It was all happening at once. Too much. Too much swirling around inside like a hurricane, destroying everything in its path. He’d built his life around what his father had done, had pursued women and notoriety to punish him.

Except it had been a mistake. One mistake committed out of pain instead of a calculated affair. He’d lived nearly twenty years of his life on a myth that he’d been too angry, too hurt, to examine more closely. To act like an adult and talk with his father.

His entire reality had been called into question in one conversation. Much as he wanted to blame his father—how much easier that would have been—he had no one to blame but himself. And Javier’s words of warning had made him wonder...did he really want to be a father? A husband? Or was this just another twisted trick of his psyche?

He didn’t have an answer. Which was probably an answer in itself.

“Calandra...if you heard everything...” He spread his hands helplessly. “I don’t know what to think.”

He watched whatever they’d had end as her shoulders straightened, her chin came up and her mask slid back into place, all within a few seconds. His heart, his chest, his whole damn body ached to hold her, to erase the last few hours and recapture the magic they’d found in Provence.

But he kept his hands by his sides. He’d borne witness to the painful price her parents’ abandonment had demanded of Calandra. How could he risk doing the same thing to the baby? Risk putting Calandra through yet another rejection? Like his father had said, if he didn’t know one hundred percent that he wanted this, it was better to let her go. Let their child go.

“It seems, then, that I have my answer.” A heartbeat where she hesitated, where the ice in her eyes cracked and revealed the insurmountable pain he’d caused her. Even if he did find an answer, he’d never be able to come back from this. From hurting her so deeply.

“Goodbye, Señor Cabrera.”

Somehow, he thought as he watched her walk up the stairs and disappear into the villa, he’d always known Calandra Smythe would walk out of his life.

He’d just had no idea he’d be the one to drive her away.