Page 165 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

She felt empty of hope. He wanted to explain? She could not think of anything he might say that would make things right.

It was hard to imagine anything ever being right again.

She caught sight of herself in a mirror, looking lost and hopeless, and with a cry she switched off the lamp to blank the image. She stepped back into a bucket chair and drew her knees up to her chest, and sat there hunched inside his jacket.

She was still there when the door opened and the light came on. She watched as Joaquin entered the room, closing the door behind him. He vented a deep sigh and dragged a hand wearily through his hair, then began to roll down his sleeves, which had been pushed up to the elbows.

He was leaning his shoulders back against the wooden panels of the door when their glances connected. He immediately levered himself off.

To lessen the sensory impact of him standing over her, she unfurled her legs, pulled the jacket off and handed it to him.

He shook his head. ‘Keep it. You look cold.’

She slid the jacket back over her shoulders. ‘Any news?’

‘What would you like to know about? The hysterical naked girlfriend, screaming that she had never seen a dead body before?’

‘He’s...?’

‘No, he’s not dead—and she is no longer naked. My mother has wished hewasdead on several occasions. She is very worried about the scandal and the potential cost of private nursing—such a warm woman. However, she is cheered by the thought that the stroke might put an end to his womanising. He’s been airlifted to hospital, and she has gone with him. Not to hold his hand, in case you thought that was a bit out of character. She’s trying to get him to give her power of attorney, in case he has another, worse stroke that makes him incapable. Her lawyer is meeting them at the hospital.’

‘Oh, goodness!’

‘I thinkgoodnesshas very little to do with it.’

He studied her face, which was normally so luminous, and saw only shadow. Her pain felt like a stab in the heart. And knowing he was responsible hurt him at a cellular level.

He walked across to the bureau and poured two glasses of amber liquid from a decanter before bringing them back and handing one to her.

‘What is it?’

‘Does it matter?’

She decided it didn’t, and swallowed it back in one gulp.

He waited for her to stop choking before he launched into his explanation. ‘I did know about my mother’s threat, but I wasn’t sure she would follow through. Happily, she did.’

‘Happily?’ Clemmie choked.

‘If my mother had known that I was the potential buyer she would never have sold—not even for an above-market valuation.’

‘You’ve bought Maplehurst?’

He nodded.

‘So, you own the manor?’

He shook he head. ‘No,youown the manor, Clemmie.’

She watched as he opened a drawer in the bureau and pulled out a buff folder.

‘These are the deeds.’

She reached out automatically and took them, then asked in a dazed voice. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Maplehurst is yours—the sale is complete. The only person doing any throwing out is you. You love the place, and I wanted to make sure that... If I’d told you about my mother’s threat you would have worried, and your mother would have worried. You belong there. I hope with me.’

This last husky addition and the look in his eyes sent her heart racing.

---