HE’D sat up nearly all night mulling over events, thinking what to do. Finally, needing some air, he walked out of the still sleeping house and headed off—hands deep in the pockets of his trenchcoat—down one of the winding country lanes that led away from the house. Dawn was just breaking, and a silvery mist was draped over the trees and hedgerows like a diaphanous cloak. The air contained just enough frost in it to make Pascual shiver. The English countryside in the autumn was a sight to stir the heart, he silently acknowledged, his shoes flattening damp golden leaves deep into the gravelled lane as he walked, and he experienced the first real pleasure he had had since arriving.
Back home in Buenos Aires the temperature would be a predictable twenty-two degrees, warm and sunny. But strangely at that moment he felt no particular longing for the place of his birth. Where he was right now was perfect because that was where his son was, he realized—that was enough to make Pascual content to be there. What did he look like, this boy of his? Did any of his features resemble his father’s? What characteristics might they share? Feeling his throat tighten almost unbearably, he muttered something impatient into the frigid air.
How could she have done it? How could Briana have deliberately kept his child from him? Even if he had cheated on her with Claudia—which he most definitely had not—was he deserving of such unbelievable treatment? And just because her faithless father had had affairs, did it naturally follow that Pascual would do the same? He was a different kind of man entirely … an honourable, loyal man. If only she had seen that. And he was even less likely to have an affair knowing he had a child to think of! How was it possible that he had once loved such an untrusting woman—a woman who had preferred to leave him rather than stay and hear his side of the story?
Preferring to focus on solutions rather than regrets, and for the moment determinedly putting the past aside, he concentrated on some of the decisions he’d reached last night about the future. When he returned to Buenos Aires in a couple of days he would be taking the boy back with him. No question about it. ‘When you become a father,’ his friend Fidel had once told him, ‘everything changes. In a way the path becomes much clearer. You are less concerned with your own needs and ambitions. Instead almost every waking moment is given over to this precious child you have helped bring into the world …’
Sadly, his friend had not lived to see his own child grow up. Having already missed out on Adán’s infant years, Pascual was determined that from now on it would be a very different story for him. And if Briana made it difficult in any way, then he would not hesitate to take a legal route to claiming what was his. But he hoped it would not come to that. Much better that she saw she had done both him and his son a grave injustice in keeping them apart, was ready to right a wrong rather than make that wrong even worse by obstructing him.
Taking a moment to expel a long, troubled breath, he continued on his journey up the winding lane. He almost stumbled when he remembered the kiss he had stolen last night—before he had found out about his son. Heat coiled in his belly with a fierce demand that shocked him. How could it be that she could still arouse such lust and need in him even after five years of being apart? Feeling betrayed by his own body, Pascual impatiently lengthened his stride. He would walk hard for a while and burn up some of the nervous heightened energy that throbbed through him, he concluded grimly. His treacherous and inconvenient desire would give him no peace if he did not.
And there was something else he had made a decision about. The planned visit to a polo match at one of Britain’s most elite sports grounds today no longer held any appeal for him, he realised—end of the season or no. No … He had far more important upcoming events commanding his thoughts—the first one entailed putting Briana in the picture about his plans, and the next was visiting his son …
Dumbfounded, Briana stared at her fresh-faced colleague. ‘What do you mean he’s decided not to go to the polo match? The others are all waiting outside in the car for him! What reason did he give you?’
Looking uncomfortable, as well as bewildered, Tina frowned. ‘He just said that he’d changed his mind … that something more important had come up and to send his apologies. He’ll meet the others at dinner tonight, he said. In the meantime …’
The younger girl hesitated, and Briana’s heartbeat quickened with apprehension. ‘In the meantime … what?’ she demanded, fear making her tone impatient.
‘In the meantime Mr Dominguez said he’d like to talk to you in private … in his room.’
The blonde’s curious glance spoke volumes, and inwardly Briana groaned. That was all she needed. Tina speculating that there was something going on between the gorgeous Argentinian and her boss! Then she remembered the slightly pink abrasion at the side of her neck—the parting gift that Pascual had left her with last evening—and her face and body briefly burned with self-conscious and guilty heat. Automatically she lifted her hand to tug the silk collar of her blouse closer to the skin there.
‘Well, then … you’ll have to go outside and repeat what you’ve just told me to our clients … Needless to say not the part about Pas—Mr Dominguez wanting to see me in his room!’
Feeling her face flame at inadvertently almost exposing herself even more, Briana turned abruptly away and reluctantly—feeling as though she had lead in her shoes—ascended the staircase to the landing where Pascual’s suite was situated.
Nibbling worriedly on her lip, she rapped smartly on the oak door.
‘Come in!’
Giving her a briefly cold look, his sensual mouth bracketed by distinct displeasure, Pascual held the door wide to invite her in. Clothed from head to toe in stylish black once again, his indomitable maleness projected the arresting package of a man used to giving orders and being in charge—and heaven help anyone who dared to obstruct him.
Briana’s anxiety went up several notches merely at the intimidating sight of him. Closing the door behind them, he followed her into the centre of the room. The maid had put fresh flowers into a huge white vase on the polished chiffonier, and the scent of lilies in particular lay on the air like an exotic and drugging perfume. It only took one glance into the disturbing midnight gaze before her and she knew she was in trouble.
Just the same she ventured, ‘Why—why don’t you want to go to the polo match?’
‘Because my priorities have changed … as I am sure you are well aware.’
Saying nothing in return, she sensed the atmosphere spark as dangerously as a flickering flame near a bale of straw.
‘You may well be silent!’ A muscle jerked briefly in the shadowed hard jaw. ‘Because I warn you that nothing you can say can alter the path I have resolved to take. When I leave for Buenos Aires in two days’ time you and my son are coming with me for an extended holiday—a holiday during which time a marriage between us will take place. The marriage that should have taken place five years ago!’
‘What?’
‘You heard me. And when you return to the UK it will only be for the purposes of winding up your business and closing it down.’
‘Closing it down?’
‘Sí. It is in trouble anyway, is it not? It can only be a relief to put it behind you. Once you are back in Buenos Aires, instead of running a business you will have to get used to fulfilling the role of my wife instead. Do not worry, Briana …’ Pascual’s dark-eyed gleam was deliberately provocative ‘… there will be plenty to keep you occupied as far as that position is concerned. And that includes sharing my bed, mothering our son, playing hostess at any dinner parties I may give and being my unimpeachable escort at any social functions we may attend as I attempt to integrate you into my world. The world you clearly despise so much you could not bear to entertain being a part of it! You can quickly forget any ideas you may have had about remaining a single mother and raising our child on your own in England. That was in the past. Today is a new day, and from now on things are going to look very different for you. You can count on it!’
Feeling as if a storm had just ripped off the roof of her house, Briana found the power of speech had temporarily eluded her. It was as though what she’d just heard had rendered her mute with shock.
‘Have you nothing to say?’ Pascual thrust his implacable jaw forward in annoyance.
‘Yes … I do.’ Her returning glance was wary. ‘I have plenty to say. But whether you’ll listen to it or not is another thing.’
‘I will listen. It does not mean that I will concur or change my mind.’
‘I understand that you want to be in Adán’s life, and that is your right as his father. But you can’t really be serious about us going back to Buenos Aires with you and the two of us getting married. We surely don’t have to go that far? And anyway … I can’t believe that you’d even want to marry me after what’s happened between us. It just doesn’t make any sense.’
He scowled. ‘Well, it is certainly not because I have found I cannot live without you, or anything as ludicrous as that! No. I am doing this purely for the benefit of my son. The son you have denied me for the past four years. You are his mother, and even though you have not shown me the least respect in any way I will accord you respect and not let him down. No … I intend to become the father to Adán that I should have been right from the beginning—and if that entails marrying his treacherous mother, then—’
‘Treacherous?’ Briana’s grey eyes rounded in protest. ‘I never cheated on you … ever! If anyone showed any tendency to be attracted to other people, it was you!’
‘You are still holding a grudge about that ridiculous scene with Claudia?’ Pascual sighed with impatience. ‘What can I say that will convince you of the truth? I swear to you that she was drunk. Because I had broken up with her and she was mad at me, she wanted to make me look bad in front of you. I had not even realised you saw what happened! If I had you can be sure I would have talked to you about it and explained. But you never gave me the chance to do that, did you?’
‘I was too upset and shocked!’
‘And apparently you believed that I was just like your father! The reason I call you treacherous is that you made me a promise that you would become my wife, Briana. You did not keep that promise. Instead you left and made me look like a fool in front of everyone I cared about, and then kept the fact that you were pregnant with my son a secret up until now. Disloyal, duplicitous, untrustworthy … Treacherous is as good a word as any in your English vocabulary to describe your actions … would you not agree?’
‘Even if you think that, you can’t really expect me to go along with your plans without protest and simply do everything you command, Pascual. We’re not living in the Middle Ages, here, and I’m not going to agree with everything you say simply because I feel bad about what happened between us five years ago!’
‘So you feel bad, do you? At last! Some indication of regret!’
‘Of course I feel bad about what happened. Every day … watching Adán grow … I’ve thought about what he’s missing by not having his father in his life. I truly regret what I did as regards to that. But I wasn’t being vindictive or cruel by not contacting you about him. At the time … considering the strain I was under … I just did what I thought was right.’
‘It is my view that you did not employ any thinking at all in the matter! You purely reacted! I knew you could be impulsive and I liked that about you … but I did not guess in a million years that that impulsive nature of yours would lead you to take the drastic steps that you took five years ago.’ His blistering glance narrowed. ‘I have a question. Did you ever plan to contact me about Adán at all? What if business had not brought me to the UK this week? What if you had not been providing hospitality services at the same venue where my meeting was being held? Would you have let more time go by? Perhaps not getting in touch until our son was a grown man? Maybe not even then?’
It was a terrible thought. And one that made Briana feel as if she had committed a crime that carried a life sentence. It was not the first time that the gravity of the decision she’d made in leaving Buenos Aires five years ago hit her so hard. But never before had it swept over her leaving such destroying hurt and regret in its wake. Faced with the flesh-and-blood reality of the handsome, vital man in front of her, she began to see exactly what she had done to him. Because of her he had suffered humiliation and torment—and he was suffering doubly now. Instead of going through with the marriage and committing herself to the man she had truly loved she had let fear and doubt rule the day—and this scene that was akin to torture was the result.
Again she wished that she’d had a better example of a man than her deceitful, cruel father … Whatever way she reflected on it, her actions had resulted in denying Pascual the opportunity of having a relationship with his own son. Even if he potentially might have strayed in their marriage—and Briana had to recall the devastation she had endured when she’d seen him in the arms of his ex in Buenos Aires and believed the worst—he surely didn’t deserve that? Breathing out a troubled breath, she moved a few paces towards him. With all her heart she wished she knew a way to make everything right again, but she realised that was like wishing she could turn back time. It was simply beyond human capability.
‘You were always there at the back of my mind, Pascual. I suppose I just got caught up in the day-today demands of trying to run a business and support myself and Adán,’ she explained. ‘And because so much time had gone by without us speaking I worried that if I did contact you, you’d either slam down the phone or … if I went to Buenos Aires … shut the door in my face!’
‘Knowing that I had a son? You really believed I would do that?’ With even more disbelief, Pascual dropped his hands to the lean, masculine hips encased in black corded trousers. ‘It makes me realise even more that you do not know what kind of man I am Briana. Words desert me at the idea that you thought I would not be interested in the fact that I had fathered a son with you!’
Disturbed by the thought that clearly she hadn’t really known Pascual as well as she’d thought she had, and feeling a sense of shame wash over her, Briana lifted her shoulders uneasily. ‘What can I do to help make things right?’
Levelling his black velvet gaze right at her, Pascual did not hesitate to illustrate. ‘Apart from doing as I outlined and coming back to Buenos Aires with me? You can arrange for a car to drive us to where you live so that I may at last become acquainted with my son!’
‘But that’s three hours away and another three back … You won’t make dinner tonight with our clients if we do that.’
When she saw how Pascual received that particular piece of information, Briana instantly regretted speaking her thoughts out loud. But she hadn’t only been thinking of what her clients would say if he did not meet them for dinner as arranged. She was genuinely concerned for her son, and how he would cope if she suddenly arrived home with a man he’d never seen before and declared that he was his father!
‘Do you think I care about attending a business dinner over seeing my child for the first time?’ Pascual uttered furiously. ‘Tell them I will meet them in London tomorrow instead … they can name the venue. You can say that something of the utmost importance has called me away. Why not?’ The formidably broad shoulders beneath the perfectly fitted black shirt lifted in a dismissive shrug. ‘It is the truth.’
‘First I’ll have to ring my mother to tell her we’re coming. She’s been looking after Adán for me while I’ve been away this weekend.’
‘Do that—and then arrange for a car. I am anxious to get going as soon as possible.’
‘I have my own car here. I can drive us.’
‘Good. Then go and make your phone call and let us not waste any more time, hmm?’
Clearly dismissing her, Pascual turned away to reach for the water jug and glass on the coffee table to pour a drink. Feeling as if her limbs had turned as fluid as the water in the jug, Briana moved towards the door and silently exited the room.
Once outside, in the monastic quiet of the corridor, she briefly leant against the panelled wall, trying hard to stem the sudden onrush of fear and doubt that had overtaken her about the impending visit home. How would it be, she wondered, when father and son came face to face for the very first time? Her little son could be shy and uncommunicative even with people he knew—let alone strangers. How would Pascual react if his child appeared to reject him?
Feeling for them both, she felt hot tears well helplessly behind her eyes and spill over onto her cheeks. Impatiently scrubbing at them with the heel of her hand, she pushed away from the wall and returned to her room to make the phone call …
The house was situated down a pleasant tree-lined street in one of London’s less busy boroughs. It was a neat terraced property, painted white, and next to the other less bright edifices on either side of it easily stood out. As Pascual followed a definitely subdued Briana up the short path that led to the front door, with its pretty stained glass panelling, adrenaline shot through him like rapids at the prospect of meeting his little son.
He’d quizzed her on the way about him, but she’d seemed almost reluctant to give him answers—just as if she was preserving the right to hold onto that information … as if she feared that if Pascual knew too much he would make it even harder for her to keep the boy to herself. It infuriated him that Briana was still reluctant to let him into their lives when all he wanted was the chance to be a proper father. Every bit of trust between them was gone. It had all been smashed into the dirt five years ago. And now they stood on either side of the ground they were both determined to capture—like warring factions in a soul-destroying battle instead of the passionate lovers they had once been.
As Briana let herself into the narrow hallway with her key, along with his great anticipation at meeting his son Pascual sensed the full extent of her betrayal of his heart as he had never sensed it before—and right then his soul had never felt bleaker …