Page 178 of Modern Romance November 2024 5-8

‘What would the point be, Santos?’ she asked finally, her tone weary. ‘We’ve already seen we don’t work together.’ For six excruciating weeks after her miscarriage.

‘We worked very well together at the beginning.’ His voice had dropped to a husky murmur, laced with meaningful innuendo, his gaze darkening as his eyes bored into hers, forcing her to remember. And in truth, it didn’t take much to catapult Mia right back to those first few, heady days and weeks—to the joy and pleasure of discovering each other’s bodies, revelling in the way they’d seemed to connect not just physically, but emotionally, utterly at ease in each other’s company in a way she’d never experienced before. But none of it had lasted.

‘Yes, at the beginning,’ she agreed, her voice wavering as heat flooded her body along with the memories—Santos, his lips on her throat, his hands anchoring her hips as he trailed kisses down her body. Memories of her head thrown back, her body thrumming with pleasure, never having known it could be like that between a man and a woman.

‘Plenty of people have that, Santos,’ she continued, managing to make her voice stronger. ‘It’s called infatuation.’ She forced herself to face him down, quailing at the blaze in his eyes, a potent mix of fury and desire, as she basically reduced their relationship to something shallow and tawdry. But she had to, to make him let her go. She finished as she reached for another olive, ‘It was just a fling.’

Just a fling?Just a fling?

Santos felt a righteous rage roar through him, a tidal wave that hid the underlying surge of hurt. Was she reducing the most important relationship he’d ever had to schoolboy emotion, a sordid affair? Yes, it had been swift, intense and overwhelming—he could certainly grant all that—but it hadn’t been afling. He didn’t even have flings; he knew plenty of men did, especially ones with money and power, but he’d always seen casual sexual relationships as a distasteful abuse of his position. He’d been selective with his partners, and had made sure they meant something.

Even though Mia had been different—and, yes, it had all happened so fast—he had never, not even in the first wild, heady throes of passion, thought that what they had wasn’t real. Even later, when he’d had cause, so much cause, to doubt, he’d done his best to keep himself from it. He’d done his best to believe that Mia was a good person, the woman he’d thought she was, even when it had been damned near impossible. Even when she’d left. Even when he’d found her in a bar, looking as if she was living it up in his absence.

And he was here now, wasn’t he? Still trying to believe the best of her against all odds. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He eased back in his chair and took a sip of wine to calm the raging emotion he normally didn’t let himself feel.

An Aguila must always be master of his mind and his heart.He could hear his father saying that in his steady, commanding voice, and it gave him the level-headedness he needed. ‘So, why did you marry me, then, out of curiosity?’ he asked.

Mia looked startled by the question, then pensive as she considered her answer. ‘I suppose I got caught up in it all,’ she replied after a moment, her tone cautious as she nibbled her olive. ‘It was exciting, new...overwhelming. And you made me feel...’ She stopped suddenly and gave a little shrug. ‘I believed in it, inus, for a little while.’

Us.A concept that for her no longer seemed to exist. What had she been about to say? Santos wondered. What had he made her feel? He decided not to ask her now, when she seemed so reluctant to part with any information. ‘So you didn’t think it was just infatuation at the start,’ he stated.

Mia frowned, finishing her olive, and then she shook her head, her plait flying over her shoulder. ‘Well, it wasn’t love.’

She sounded so certain, he was perhaps more stung than he should have been. Could a person even love someone after just two weeks? And yet he’d felt as if he had, or something close to it. Maybe notlove...but happiness, excitement, wonder... Yes.

‘Why not?’ he asked. The two words came out like bullets, fast and hard. He was glad he was challenging her. Maybethiswas the conversation they’d needed to have all along. ‘Why wasn’t it love, Mia?’

She stared at him, her lips parting soundlessly for a few seconds before she replied. ‘Santos, real love is something that roots down and grows. It’s not a spark that suddenly bursts into flame. You’re a reasonable man; you must know this. I’m sure you actually believe it yourself.’ She stared at him, her eyes wide and blue-green, as clear as the crystalline sea. ‘We didn’t know each other well enough to truly be in love.’

She was right, of course. They hadn’t. Hedidknow that. He believed it; he’d even say so himself. So what exactly was he trying to prove now? Why did her telling him they’d never been in love annoy and, yes, hurt so much?

‘That’s where the work part comes in, doesn’t it?’ he remarked after a moment, feeling his way through the idea. ‘Love isn’t necessarily easy, Mia. Growing something takes time, effort, commitment. Making a marriage work is the same.’ But she had chosen not to put in the effort. She’d made that abundantly clear when she’d left.

‘What exactly are you saying?’ she asked. ‘Youwantto make this marriage work?’ She sounded so incredulous that he almost laughed, although in truth he was irritated by her disbelief.

‘Why do you think I came halfway across Spain and found you?’

‘Honestly, I don’t know. I’m not sure you do either.’ She gave him a shrewd look before she shook her head and sighed. ‘I didn’t think you would. I thought... I thought you’d be glad to see me gone, frankly.’

‘Well, I wasn’t,’ he replied shortly. He stayed tight-lipped after that, because he wasn’t going to go into how hurt and humiliated he’d felt, how rejected and lost when he’d seen the empty space next to him in the bed. He’d felt it in his soul when he’d realised she’d sneaked away without leaving so much as a note. She’d cared about him that little.

Yes, things had become hard between them, damnably hard. And they hadn’t dealt with any of it, not in a way that was helpful or reasonable. But he’d still thought they would get through it. He’d trusted her...at least, he’dtried...but when she’d left the doubts had come like a flock of crows, nesting inside him, cawing their lies. He was here because he wanted to face down those doubts, prove that Mia was the woman he’d always thought she was. Prove that their marriagecouldwork...if they just committed to it.

‘I suppose,’ Mia said slowly, sounding out the words as they came, ‘I thought that if you came and found me it would just be because of your reputation—the “an Aguila is a man of his word” thing—not because you actually wanted our marriage to work.’

So did she think he cared more for appearances than realities or relationships? All right, he supposed he could understand why she might think that, at least a little. He’d made it sound as if the only reason he’d come after her was because he was a man of his word, not because of anyfeelings. But surely he’d showed her that wasn’t the case, at least not entirely? Although in truth his feelings were as tangled up as hers seemed to be.

Santos slowly shook his head. ‘Mia, what’s the point of a marriage if it doesn’t work?’

‘What’s the point,’ Mia countered, sounding weary and despairing, ‘Of trying to make a marriage work thatcan’t?’

Santos absorbed that proposition with a slow blink. ‘Why are you so sure ours can’t?’ he asked levelly. Part of him wanted to prove just how well they’dworkedright there and then. It would be easy: he’d take her by the hand and draw her onto his lap; fasten his hands to her hips and let her feel how much he wanted her. And he would feel it in her as well—the shudder of her breath, the widening of her eyes, the way her lips would part as her gaze dropped to his mouth...

Desire fired through his blood, making his heart race and certain parts of him tighten. It would be so easy...but it would be wrong. This wasn’t about physical desire or sexual conquest. That was the one part of their relationship thathaddefinitely worked all right. It was everything else that had been the problem.

Belatedly, his mind still fogged with desire, Santos realised how silent Mia had gone, how stricken she looked. The only sound was the purr of the yacht’s motor, the lap of the waves against its hull. Mia’s face was pale, her eyes dark and wide.

‘Mia?’ he pressed.

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