CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
‘Are you not enjoying your meal?’ Diaz asked politely that evening.
Rose, realising she was just aimlessly pushing food around her bone china plate, quickly popped a lemon potato into her mouth. She didn’t want him to guess how excruciating this meal had been for her.
She’d been skittish the whole day, her heart jumping into her throat every time footsteps approached. None of those footsteps had been Diaz’s so she’d been on tenterhooks for nothing, right until a maid entered the girls’ nursery with the request that Rose join him for dinner.
She couldn’t believe she was back to being on tenterhooks around him. Couldn’t believe how swiftly awareness had cloaked her again, and now she was eating what she knew to be a delicious meal but could hardly taste because she was too busy trying to tune out Diaz’s deliciously masculine scent and the fact of his strong thigh being only inches from hers.
Trying. And failing miserably. Failing, too, to stop herself side-eying his long, tanned fingers and the crisp white shirt covering his muscular torso.
She should have moved her place setting. The mahogany table was huge. If she’d moved her stuff to the far end, he’d have been only a blur in her vision. They could have shouted their polite, stilted conversation.
‘You need to relax,’ he chided. ‘The girls are fine.’
Easy for him to say. She’d never had a meal without them being in the room with her before. Not a proper meal. Snatched slices of toast or bowls of cereal wolfed down in the rare moments both girls were asleep at the same time didn’t count.
She’d never shared a meal alone with Diaz before either, and it was tying her in knots to know her inability to relax had little to do with the girls’ being upstairs, fast asleep under the supervision of the on-shift nannies.
Her inability to relax was entirely down to Diaz, who’d been coolly polishing off his courses and drinking his wine as if they’d dined alone together a hundred times.
His impeccable politeness wasn’t helping either. If anything, it was increasing her tension. The more amiable Diaz was towards her, the louder the alarm in her head rang about his motivations for bringing her here.
The best analogy she could come up with to explain how she was feeling was as someone being played by a kid-glove-wearing puppet master…
And that’s what felt so wrong, she realised with a start. In all the years she’d known him, Diaz had never hidden his feelings towards her, and she’d taken the full spectrum of them. Hate. Desire. Fury. Passion…
Whatever he was feeling and whatever was going on in his head, the man who never masked his emotions was hiding behind a smooth facade that rang so false she could scream.
She could scream, too, at how desperately aware she was of him wrapping his fingers around his wine glass, and she stabbed her fork into a roasted baby tomato and said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Why four nannies?’
He answered as if he’d been waiting all evening for that very question. ‘Two each working in shift patterns.’
‘I get that but I don’t get why it’s necessary.’
‘It gives you options if you want them. At some point when you are less exhausted, you will want to reclaim part of your life for yourself, even if it is just a trip to the shopping boulevard.’
‘If I want to go shopping, I’ll take them with me.’
‘This gives you the option to leave them behind if you wish. And as we are discussing shopping, I was thinking we should go out tomorrow and buy you some clothes.’
And have to travel in a car with him? It was bad enough sharing a meal in this magnificent dining room with staff discreetly bustling around them, and trying to stop her needy stare from falling onto him for longer than a second, never mind being stuck in a confined space with him. ‘No, thank you. I’ll find some stuff online. Give me your address and I’ll get it delivered.’
‘Forward your choices to me and I’ll arrange it all—and I’m paying,’ he added firmly.
A wave of tiredness washed through her and she shrugged, covering a yawn. If he wanted to pay, then fine. It was his fault she didn’t have enough clothes with her. ‘How long are we staying here for?’
‘We’ve only just arrived and already you are looking to go back?’
‘I just want to know how many T-shirts and stuff I should have delivered.’
‘My parents are planning a visit at the weekend so I would suggest adding a cocktail dress to your list—as I’m sure you remember, they are great enthusiasts for dining formally.’
Her gaze finally landed on his. ‘Your parents are coming?’
Green eyes holding hers, he raised his glass of white wine and gave an ironic smile. ‘They are keen to meet their grandchildren.’
‘Still?’
A glimmer of amusement passed between them, both remembering how his parents’ eagerness to meet the twins had been booked to coincide with London Fashion Week, only for them to bypass travelling to Devon due to an ‘invitation they couldn’t refuse’, a Hollywood hell-raising movie legend’s eightieth birthday party. Their busy schedule meant it had been ‘impossible’ for them to fly over and meet their grandchildren since. They had, however, got their lawyers to set up incredibly generous trust funds for the girls.
At least the glamorous Martinezes were true to form, Rose thought with a pang, remembering how sad she used to feel for Rosaria that she spent such little time with her parents. Sad for Diaz too, when she’d had enough weeks away from his loathing for her own loathing to have become diluted, and as their gazes held, a stray fragment of memory floated into her senses before she could snatch hold of it and squash it into oblivion, a memory so vivid she could feel the caress of his lips against her mouth as if he were kissing her now.
The beats of her heart accelerated and, suddenly terrified he could see the memory reflecting in her eyes, she dropped her stare back to her half-full plate and shoved her knife and fork together on it.
‘Excuse me but I’m shattered,’ she mumbled, pushing her chair back. ‘Please give my apologies to the chef.’
He gave an easy shrug but the heat of his stare intensified. ‘No apology needed. Your appetite will return when you are no longer sleep deprived. If you find yourself hungry at any time, put a call to the kitchen. They will make whatever you like.’
Clutching the baby monitor, she had to stop her feet from running out of the dining room door.
She felt his eyes follow her every step.
* * *
After a good sleep, Rose woke feeling much better in herself. With all quiet in the adjoining nursery, she brushed her teeth and hair, and dressed quickly in a pair of denim shorts and a white vest top covered with a pretty loose-fitting cream crocheted top. Then, with equal speed, she used her phone to select enough clothes to last her a couple of weeks. Surely they wouldn’t be staying any longer than that?
It was amazing, she mused as she forwarded her choices to Diaz, how sleeping well could change a mood and perspective. The evening before she’d been a bag of nerves and over what? Diaz? She’d spent years living with all the tumultuous emotions he brought out in her without turning herself into a wreck.
All the same, she refused to add any underwear to her clothing selection. Just to imagine him browsing through it all and envisaging her wearing them was enough to make her stomach churn and her skin tingle. She’d rather go knicker-less.
All her mental bravado nearly came apart at the seams when she pushed the adjoining door open and found Diaz already there.
In the process of lifting Amelia out of the cot, he was dressed in a tailored pinstripe suit that subtly accentuated the length and muscularity of his body, and, from the scent emanating from him, freshly showered and shaved.
When his gorgeous stare turned to her, the thumps of her heart became a thrum as her pulses soared.
‘Buenos dias,’ he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took her in. ‘You are looking well.’
Relieved one of the nannies was already in there too, Rose took Josie from her and, refusing to let herself return to the bag of nerves she’d been the night before, managed a tight smile at the man who’d made her a bag of nerves. ‘Thanks… You’re going out?’
‘I have back-to-back meetings in Madrid over the next couple of days.’
She’d never known it was possible for relief and disappointment to rush through a person at the same time.
Disappointment? Why on earth would she feel that? she thought fretfully. She should be dancing a conga.
Thankful he was too busy tapping Amelia’s nose to spot either emotion on her face, she pithily said, ‘Just as well I didn’t take you up on your shopping offer.’
His shoulder lifted nonchalantly. ‘I would have rescheduled if that had been the case.’
‘No rescheduling needed. I’ve emailed you the clothes I want.’
‘ Bueno. I will ensure they are delivered by tomorrow.’
‘Thanks. I ordered enough to keep me going for a couple of weeks. I don’t imagine we’ll be staying here any longer than that, will we?’
‘Did you remember to select a cocktail dress?’
‘I did…’
‘Great.’ He expertly looked at his watch without loosening his hold on their daughter, who was starting to wriggle. ‘I need to go.’
In a flash, he’d kissed Amelia’s forehead and passed her to the nanny, then crossed the divide Rose had deliberately created between them to engulf her all over again in his delicious scent as he bent his head to kiss Josie’s cheek.
Only then did his gaze rest fully on Rose.
The instant their eyes locked, the air shifted.
For one breathless moment she thought he was going to kiss her too.
* * *
On Rose’s fourth morning in Diaz’s villa, she stretched her waking body and realised she felt fully refreshed for the first time since about six months into the pregnancy. Yawning to shake off the last vestiges of sleep, she padded to the adjoining door and checked on her babies. Both opened their eyes when she leaned over the cot and gave the identical gappy smiles that never failed to melt her heart.
After changing and feeding them, Rose called the on-shift nannies in and asked them to watch the girls while she took a shower. She was determined the four nannies Diaz had employed would be the most underused nannies in existence but, standing under the powerful spray of water, had to admit that having all the time in the world to shower was bliss.
Teeth brushed, and wrapped in a huge, fluffy white towel, she checked again on the girls and smiled to find them on their backs on a giant stimulation mat, swiping at the toys dangling in an arch over them, the nannies on the floor beside them.
‘I’m just going to get dressed,’ she murmured, reversing back into her own room. The dressing table drawers she’d shoved the few items of clothing she’d brought with her were empty, and she remembered Diaz’s butler mentioning the day before, just before she’d set off for a late afternoon stroll along the beach with the girls in their plush double pushchair, that her clothes delivery was due at any moment and would be unpacked in her dressing room for her. Still delighting in making up for all her missed sleep, she’d gone straight to bed without bothering to check.
The one time she’d had a quick nose in her dressing room she’d idly thought that if she’d brought the entirety of her wardrobe with her it would only have filled a tenth of the available space. The last thing she expected to find when she opened the first fitted cupboard was a vast array of dresses hanging in it.
A few minutes later and her heart was racing as hard as her brain.
The entirety of her dressing room was filled with clothes. Expensive clothes. Clothes for all occasions and all seasons. Including underwear. Dear heavens, it was sexy underwear. Enough to set up her own lingerie shop. Make-up too. And perfumes. Shoes. Boots. Sandals. Everything.
Unable to find the few items she’d brought with her or identify the items she’d chosen for herself, she pulled on the first pair of lace knickers that came to hand and, not bothering with the matching bra, donned a pale yellow summer dress with spaghetti straps, still thinking hard.
Why would Diaz go out of his way to buy all this stuff for her? It made as little sense as toddler-proofing the place.
And why hadn’t he mentioned it?
There was only one way to find out.
But that meant seeking him out, something she really, really didn’t want to do.
She’d seen little of him in recent days and been thankful for it. Two full days working in Madrid meant she’d only been subjected to sharing her evening meals with him, meals conducted with scrupulously polite conversation and intense, watchful green eyes observing her every movement.
It all felt so different from how things had been in Devon since the girls were born, and she knew it wasn’t just because she felt different, as if she’d come back to life.
The blanket that had covered her awareness of Diaz for all those months had lifted in its entirety and she had the awful feeling Diaz knew it and was simply biding his time, and that all the time he’d been spending in Madrid had been an excuse for space away from her until he was ready to make his move.
But make his move for what?
Something was going to happen. At a time of his choosing, the mask Diaz had been wearing since her arrival in Spain was going to be ripped off. She could feel it in her bones. She just wished she knew what that something was so she could arm and protect herself.
She almost hoped the removal of his mask would reveal his old loathing and that he’d start throwing barbed comments at her. At least then she’d know where she stood and could throw her own barbs back at him, a good old screaming row to release some of the tension currently tying her in knots.
Even though she didn’t know what it was, it was time to have it out with him, before he left for the two-day trip to Sweden he’d casually mentioned over dinner.
Telling the nannies she wouldn’t be long and planting a kiss on both her daughters’ cheeks, Rose pulled her big girl knickers up and set off to find him.
* * *
After much searching, Rose eventually found Diaz in a shaded seating area by the swimming pool working on his laptop, a pot of coffee and a jug of water on the table close to hand. Clothed in a pair of dark tan cargo shorts and black polo shirt, his face unshaven and his dark brown hair messily styled, he was so undeniably, mouth-wateringly sexy that just to look at him was to make the beats of her heart accelerate and her veins heat and her determined steps falter.
She caught the scrutinising narrowing of his eyes before he said in the pleasant tone she so distrusted, ‘You are looking for me?’
She managed a short nod and stepped closer.
Not even nine a.m. and already the sun was warm, the shade in the form of a heavily flowering, heavenly scented pagoda a welcome relief, a relief countered by having to be that bit nearer to him.
He indicated the seat across from him. ‘Drink?’
Ignoring the gesture and question, she folded her arms across breasts that were inexplicably tingling, and wished she’d put a bra on. ‘How long are you planning for us to stay here?’
He continued to scrutinise her. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because I want to know and every time I’ve asked, you’ve fobbed me off.’
‘Is there a reason you’re so keen to return to England?’
‘Yes. I want a meeting with my lawyers to discuss the delay to our divorce,’ she stated pointedly. ‘And I notice you still haven’t answered my question.’
His stare became shrewd. Her heart thumped under the weight of it.
She raised her chin and stood as tall as she could. ‘Diaz, what’s going on? Why have you filled my dressing room with enough clothes to last me a lifetime?’
He tilted his head. ‘Are they not to your liking?’
‘That isn’t the point.’
‘Good, because I sent your selection to Spain’s top stylist and asked her to supply you with a wardrobe using that selection as a base guide to follow your own style.’
‘But why? I have my own clothes in my own home.’
Instead of answering, he continued scrutinising her. ‘How did you sleep last night?’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘A lot.’
‘I don’t see how.’
‘Just answer the question.’
She had no idea why she felt so reluctant to admit, ‘I slept well, if you must know.’
There was a flickering in his eyes. ‘You slept well. The girls slept well—they were fast asleep when I checked on them before my morning swim. We are all sleeping well. Already you are looking much better in yourself and, I think, feeling better in yourself too.’ He raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting her to comment on his assessment.
‘Yes,’ she agreed with a calm she was not anywhere close to experiencing inside. The fluttering in her belly was telling her loud and clear that whatever Diaz had been biding his time over was about to be revealed. ‘I’m starting to feel a lot more like my old self.’
He nodded slowly, now studying her with an intensity that made the pulse between her legs throb.
How was it possible she could still want him so much that just to be trapped in his stare was enough to fill her with a heat that roused only for him? she thought with something close to despair. So potent was his effect on her that she half wished to still be cloaked in exhaustion and all her senses muted to everything but her babies.
Bringing her here was Diaz’s way of lifting that exhaustion, she knew that with the same certainty she knew her birth date, and it took all her courage to maintain the lock of their eyes. ‘Can you stop being evasive for a moment and give me a straight answer for when we’re going home?’
He gave a long exhale and as he breathed out, his large frame loosened a fraction and the mask he’d been wearing since their arrival in Spain finally slipped off.
Green eyes swirling with a meaning she couldn’t decipher but which made her stomach plunge and her hands grip her arms tight enough to bruise, he quietly said, ‘There is no need for you to meet with your lawyer. There has been no delay. I lied about the divorce papers being filed.’
Head suddenly swimming, her mouth dropped open. Then closed. Then opened again. ‘You did wh…? But… why ? Why would you do that?’
His green eyes didn’t so much as flicker. ‘Because I no longer wish to divorce.’