The therapist Zenna had to see was there early again the next morning. He was a nice enough man, but she had nothing to say to him. What had happened, had happened. She wanted to move on. She didn’t want to dissect the events or run them through her mind again, because it was simply too appalling, too terrifying. She didn’t want to be reminded she could have ended up dead. She didn’t want to think about Santiago. She endured the sessions, because Ana, Pedro, and Etán insisted. She didn’t do it for him. She did it for Ana and Pedro who were kind to her.
Even as the therapist was talking to her, her mind wandered off to Etán. Maybe she should just sleep with him and get it out of her system. Yes, she wasn’t that kind of girl. She had her pride. Then why did she keep on clinging to him every time he pushed his lips against hers? It must have been the shock of seeing Marcos with Monica and realizing how stunning her rival really was. It was harder to deal with now there was a mental image in her mind.
“Zenna?” The doctor probed gently. “Did you get what I just said?”
Zenna’s head shot up from where she was studying her hands, non-seeing. “Yes, of course,” she said. “You were talking about suppressed trauma.”
“Good,” he cooed, before carrying on in his monotonous tone.
Zenna’s thoughts drifted back to her conversation with Etán. Now Marcos was engaged and fighting for him was no longer an option, she had better come up with some kind of plan. She desperately needed something to keep her mind off Etán and his impossibly irresistible body and arrogant mind. Especially since he had made it clear he wasn’t available on a long-term basis. She didn’t need her heart broken again.
After the hour session with the doctor who drove all the way out to Sol y Sombra, she was sure on Etán’s request, Zenna walked into the kitchen with heavy steps. She needed a cup of tea. She switched on the kettle, and leaned against the counter, waiting for the water to boil.
Luca walked in through the backdoor. “Hey, Sugar. How’s my favorite girl today?”
She shot him a grateful look, thankful for his bright tone.
One look at her, and he crossed the floor, his arms outstretched. “Need a hug?”
She made a face.
“Come here.” He folded his arms around her and gave her a big, warm, bear hug.
She sighed, nestling her face against his chest.
“What’s wrong, Sugar?”
She sighed again. “Everything. Starting with that obnoxious brother of yours.”
“I saw Gossip magazine.”
She groaned. “Everyone probably has by now.”
“Pretty much,” he said.
“Etán thinks I need a shag.”
Luca laughed. “Do you?”
Zenna squeezed him tight and then pulled away from the embrace. She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know what I need, any more.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She pushed her hands into the pockets of her jeans. “I’m thinking about fighting for Marcos, winning him back. That was, I thought about it until I saw Monica’s photo yesterday. They’re engaged.”
“Mmm,” Luca said, thoughtful, “she is pretty, but that’s not all that counts.”
“Argh, that’s a nice way of telling me I’m no match for her.”
He pinched her cheek. “That’s not what I said.”
“I really don’t know what to do, anymore. Everything is out in the open now. What I am. The murder case. The gossip.”
“Yeah.” He stroked a hand over her back. “That’s a lot to handle. I can imagine how frightening it must all be for you.” He paused. “How important is winning Marcos back to you? If you don’t mind me saying so, he’s a prime jerk. I can’t imagine what you see in him. I don’t want to see you hurt again.”
“I was only going to win him back to...” she hesitated. “Anyway,” she took a mug from the cupboard, and put a teabag inside, “he’s off limits now.”
“If you want my advice, I think you should really just let it go.”
She poured boiling water into the mug. “Now you sound just like your brother.”
“So maybe for once, he’s right.”
Teresa walked into the kitchen, carrying the tray with the coffee she had served to the therapist. She gave Zenna a girlish look, and then winked.
Zenna glanced at Luca, rolling her eyes again. Inwardly she cringed. Oh, God. What people were thinking...
Teresa winked again, as if once wasn’t sufficient. “Senora Ana called to remind you she will arrive with her friend, senora Margarita this afternoon.”
Zenna removed her teabag from the mug and threw it in the garbage bin. “Thank you, Teresa.” Zenna looked at Luca. “I guess that means I’m not going to get much work done today.”
“Not office work, no,” Luca said, with apprehension and compassion in his gaze. “As soon as you’re done with Mom and Margarita, I’ll take you for a nice, long walk.”
They both looked up when the gate intercom buzzed. The request was answered from somewhere else in the house. They padded to the kitchen window to watch the car parked in front of the main gates a guard was opening.
“Could Ana and Margarita be this early?” Zenna said.
She saw Luca stiffen as the black Jeep Grand Cherokee came into view. “No,” he said, his voice laced with disapproval. “They won’t be early.”
Something about his tone and manner made her pay more attention. Zenna cupped the warm tea as she watched the car pull up next to the front door. The driver didn’t make any move until the butler stepped from the veranda to open the door.
Zenna saw a long, slender leg, clad in an oxblood leather high-heeled boot, elegantly slip to the ground, before a tall, very thin woman got out of the driver seat. Her pitch black hair hung in waves over her back, reaching her waist, and a soft, chocolate brown dress fell over the exposed knee to cover the boots as she straightened. She looked around, breathing in the fresh air with a gesture of appreciation. She wore big, black sunglasses she pushed back over her hair.
Zenna’s mouth fell open. She was the image of perfection. She was just about to turn to Luca to ask him who it was, when she saw Etán emerging from the front door of the house. He walked down the steps in easy, long strides, stopping in front of the woman. He bent down to kiss her on the cheek.
The woman’s slender hand went around his neck, holding him to her. “Hola, Etán,” Zenna heard her say through the open kitchen window in a seductively, hoarse voice.
“Sanita, it’s been some time,” he said, taking her arm to lead her inside.
Zenna couldn’t stop gaping. Partly because she couldn’t stop looking at the beauty on Etán’s arm, but mostly because she felt inexplicable pangs of jealousy pricking at her like needles. They made an exceptionally attractive couple. Both were dark, tall, and displayed an air of confidence. Sanita’s hair was even blacker than Etán’s, and her skin was a smooth, dark shade of olive. With her heeled boots, she was almost as tall. She walked with gracious steps and swaying hips. Every ounce of her dripped of sex appeal and style.
“Wow.” She put the mug down on the kitchen counter. “I had no idea Etán’s ex-wife is such a looker.”
Luca snorted impolitely. “She may be a looker, but that’s where it ends.”
She turned to him. “You don’t like her very much, do you?”
He looked straight into her eyes. “I like her about as much as I like your ex, both for the same reason.”
“You don’t like her for breaking your brother’s heart?”
“No, that’s way too shallow, Sugar. I don’t like her because of who she is.” His eyes darted back to the subject of their discussion. “She didn’t marry my brother for love. She married him for his money.”
Zenna bit her lip. “It’s not fair I’m being surrounded by perfect beauty this week. I really don’t want to be bombarded with model perfection right now. It’s the last thing I need. First Monica, now her.”
Luca crossed his arms. His tone was teasing. “What does Monica and Sanita have in common, that should bother you so? Monica I can understand. She stole your man. It’s not like she didn’t do you a favor, ridding you of that creep,” he added quickly. “As for Sanita, why would she bother you?”
Zenna shrugged. “I’m just not feeling very good about myself at this present moment, and I don’t want to be reminded I’m not perfectly thin, perfectly beautiful, or perfectly gracious, that’s all.”
He draped his arm around her. “You are perfect.”
She nudged him playfully in the ribs. “You’re too kind.”
Teresa came into the kitchen, starting to prepare a tray with their finest China teacups.
Zenna watched her silently. She wondered why a man like Etán wouldn’t make a woman like Sanita happy. They looked perfect for each other, and it grated on her nerves. As much as she hated to admit it, she felt envious, and jealous of the glorious woman. At least a man’s heart had once belonged to Sanita, wholly and totally, so much so he had married her. So much so he didn’t want to divorce her, even if she wanted to divorce him. She bet Etán would never have suggested helping Sanita out in the sex department because he thought she needed a shag. She was envious about the way in which Etán had taken her arm and led her into the house. It was respectful, like he thought the world of her. Maybe he still loved her.
When the tray was set with a fresh pot of tea, cups, sugar and milk, and Teresa bent to pick it up, Zenna jumped forward, laying her arm on Teresa’s. “Let me,” she said smoothly. “I’ll take it.”
Teresa gave her a quizzical look. “Senorita, it’s not appropriate. You cannot take the tray.”
Zenna smiled sweetly. “To me, it is appropriate. Besides, I want to meet the lady.”
She took the tray from Teresa’s hands. Teresa looked taken aback. The housekeeper stared at Luca, who simply shrugged, looking amused.
They were not sitting in the lounge, as Zenna had expected, but in the inner courtyard at a wrought iron table. It was a small table for two, and the intimacy of the set-up suddenly struck Zenna. She felt like an intruder, but it was too late to turn back because both Etán and Sanita had already noticed her.
Sanita’s reaction was not as well hidden as Etán’s staff when they had first met her, Zenna thought. The woman looked at her as if she was something the cat had dragged in. Her perfectly made-up eyes took in the plain, undone, curly hairstyle, the clean face, not even a trace of eyeliner this morning, the comfortable sweatshirt, the faded jeans, and finally, Zenna’s socked feet. She took everything in at a glance with the practiced skill of someone who was used to sizing up people.
Etán got to his feet. “Sanita, this is Zenna,” he said politely, “my PR agent I have been telling you about.”
They had spoken about her? Zenna’s eyebrow lifted, her gaze shifting from Sanita to Etán.
“Sanita obviously saw the article in Gossip.” He took the tray from her and put it on the table.
“Oh, that,” Zenna said, trying to sound casual.
Sanita didn’t offer any form of greeting or looked as if she was going to kiss Zenna on the cheek, like all Chileans did with people they considered of their equal status, or even shake her hand, as all Chileans did with people they considered not of their equal status. Zenna stood, rooted to the spot.
Sanita’s eyes swept over Zenna again. It was a fleeting movement, but her discontent was unmistakable. When her beautiful brown eyes finally rested on Zenna again, she could read the triumph on the Chilean woman’s face. It was a look from one female to another, declaring Zenna no match for her.
Sanita turned back to Etán. “I find this absurd,” she said in a polished voice. “It’s almost comical. How could they even make an allegation like this? You should sue them.”
Zenna knew the words were meant as a slap in her face. How could anyone expect a man like Etán to have romantic feelings for a woman like her? She propped her hands on her hips.
“What do you find so funny? I hardly find it humorous when a popular national magazine accuses me of sleeping with him.” She flicked her thumb in Etán’s direction. “It may spoil my chances with every one else. I certainly don’t want to follow in your footsteps. You obviously didn’t do well with your choice.”
She didn’t miss the dark look Etán shot her, but she didn’t care. She lifted her chin, turned, and stomped away. It was a pity her socks couldn’t make much of a noise on the marble floor for her grand exit as she felt two pairs of eyes drill into her back.
In the hallway, she stopped. Well, she handled that one well. As usual. She swore inwardly. It was despicable, but she couldn’t help standing where she could overhear the rest of their conversation, peering around the door. She saw Sanita pouring the tea. It was a natural movement, like it was her place to do so. She seemed sure of herself and her status, of who she was. Zenna felt her envy deepen.
Etán’s face was a mask. He was polite, but it was impossible to read what was going on in his mind. Zenna wished she had Luca’s ability to sense emotions. Why would it be so important to her to know what Etán was feeling? Why was she standing in the hallway of Etán’s house spying on him? She assured herself it wasn’t him she was spying on. She just wanted to know what they were saying about her.
Etán leaned forward and took the tea Sanita offered him. “You know I’m not someone for small talk. Let’s not beat around the bush. What is it exactly you came to see me about? When you called this morning, you said you wanted to pay me a social visit. This is very unlike you. For months before our divorce you refused to see me. Why now? Why this sudden interest? Was it the Gossip article, Sanita?”
She smiled. Everything about her was subtle seduction, even her smile. “All right, Etán. It’s so like you to come straight to the point. Maybe my curiosity was a little bit piqued by what I saw in that magazine, but now that I have seen her for myself, I almost feel sorry for you. It’s a terrible joke.” She poured milk into his tea.
Zenna noticed she didn’t need to ask. She still knew how he took his tea. Little details. Intimate details. She fought not to give up her hiding place and tell the dark-haired beauty exactly what she though of her.
“We need to be friends, Etán,” Sanita said sweetly.
His face remained unchanged. “We don’t have children. We don’t have to be friends. I’ve told you, Sanita, and I’m only going to tell you once more. I don’t do friendships with my ex-lovers. I told you, if we break the ties, we break them clean.”
She tilted her head prettily. “I wasn’t just one of your ex-lovers. I was your wife. We could be nice to each other.”
He looked at her for a long moment, his eyes piercing. Finally, he put the teacup down on the table, his tea untouched. “I don’t do nice, either. I have never been anything less than civil to you, Sanita. I’m sure it’s not niceties or friendship you’re after. What is it you really want?”
She drank her tea, unmoved by his sudden hostile tone. She looked at him from under her eyelashes. Finally, she put down her cup, and put her hand over his. She held his gaze.
“What if I made a terrible mistake, Etán?”
His eyes turned hard, cold. “Then that’s a mistake both of us are going to have to live with for the rest of our lives.”
Anger crept into her tone. “Why must everything always be so black and white with you, Etán?”
“Because certain things in life are black or white. You don’t get to paint a little bit of gray in-between and then wipe it all out, pretending you haven’t blotched it.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Thank you for reminding me why I left you in the first place.”
Zenna watched as she stood, stretched herself to her full length, and squared her shoulders. She looked like she wanted to say more, but instead she turned and walked toward the door. Zenna had just enough time to make it back to the kitchen and watch through the window as Sanita walked briskly to her car, sliding swiftly into the driver’s seat, and slamming the door behind her. Etán emerged on the veranda. He stood there until the trail of dust disappeared through the main gates of the estate.
Anyone with half a brain could tell Etán was upset. He stomped around the house for an hour like an injured lion and then disappeared. Zenna gave him ample time to cool off, before she went in search of him. It pained her to see him like that. Sanita was a wound that hadn’t healed, and she understood that too well. Maybe he was being given another opportunity to be with the woman he loved, but was too hardheaded to take it.
Zenna tried to put herself in his shoes. What would she have done if Marcos had come back to her? Already, her life with him seemed so long ago. Yet, it was only a short while ago he walked out of her life, dumping her into a cauldron of a mess. Could she ever, really forgive him or trust him again? She pondered the questions, but her mind always wondered back to Etán.
She wanted to reach out to Etán, to soothe him. It was obvious he was suffering, and it upset her. Despite the fact he was an arrogant bastard, it was stupid to punish himself for nothing. A part of her was glad he hadn’t explored Sanita’s proposal, but another part of her couldn’t see him in agony. It was the latter part of her that won over her selfish approval of his choice as she walked around the house, trying to find him.
She first went to the office, but Emmie told her Etán was working from the house. He hadn’t been in to the office yet. She knocked on the door of his suite, looked in the lounge, the study, and, finally, she walked out onto the veranda. It was only when she rounded the side of the house that she saw him. He sat in one of the lounge chairs next to the pool, hunched over, his arms on his knees, his fingertips touching. He looked tired. Zenna felt a wave of compassion rise.
She walked up to him and sat on the chair next to him. For a while they didn’t speak. At last, he lifted his head and stared into the distance where the sun touched the vines.
Zenna noticed he wasn’t wearing a jacket. “Aren’t you cold?” she asked, shivering. It felt cooler next to the pool.
“It’s my heart that’s cold, Zenna,” he said. “Do you believe one woman can turn a man’s heart to stone?”
The honest admission took Zenna by surprise and disappointed her. There was a part of her that didn’t want to believe he was incapable of feeling anything for anyone else again. She looked at him for a long time, formulating her words.
“You know, sometimes one can be wrong and admit it,” she began carefully.
He turned his head toward her, the coldness in his eyes making them shine like hard, green diamonds.
Zenna blinked at the bitterness and cold determination she saw there. He surely wasn’t someone you wanted as your enemy. “Sometimes, you have to swallow your pride, for the sake of your own happiness. I would take Marcos back if he came to me and confessed he was wrong.”
“Is that so?” His eyes narrowed on her. “I can’t understand for the life of me why you would want to take a weasel like him back. Do you value yourself so little? Or do you simply wish to follow in your mother’s footsteps?”
She flinched as if he had dealt her a physical blow. The pain his words caused, flickered in her gaze for the slightest moment, before she managed to suppress it and make herself appear disinterested.
“You’re right. It wasn’t my place to interfere.” She took a ragged breath. “Sanita is right. I can absolutely see why she left you.” With that, she rose abruptly and walked back to the house, her step heavy.
She almost bumped into Ana in the hallway. Zenna’s heart sank. When Ana had called earlier in the day to say Margarita had been delayed and wouldn’t make it to the estate before late afternoon, she had been secretively relieved. She wasn’t looking forward to the work that lay ahead of her, even if she knew, now more than ever, how vital it was. She had actually hoped they wouldn’t make it until the next day. Maybe she hoped she could have put it off indefinitely, but now Ana stood in front of her, and to her left was a very plain looking woman in her late fifties.
Like Ana, she had gray hair. Hers was long, and twisted into a bun at the back of her neck. Long, dangling earrings flashed as she introduced herself and hugged Zenna.
“We can start now and get a good session in before dinner. Let’s go to the study,” Ana said to Zenna’s utter dismay.