Page 152 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

The rest of the conversation was short, as calling Joaquin a liar was not really an option when her mum sounded so relieved at the new arrangement.

‘I told Ruth we’d pop down and see her after breakfast. When you’re dressed. Are you cross with me?’ he asked when Clemmie had hung up.

She sighed. ‘Well, I am grateful. Mum obviously wants to spend some time with her Harry.’

‘You’ve changed your tune. I thought you wanted Harry out of the picture.’

‘I never—I just want my mum to be happy...’

‘And you being away with me in Spain will achieve that?’

‘Notreallyin Spain, obviously. Once she’s gone the gatehouse will be empty.’

‘Have you really thought this through? What if someone sees the lights on and informs the police? Neighbourhood Watch will consider it their duty to keep an eye on the place.’

‘Don’t be stupid.’

She knew she didn’t sound as confident as she had intended. Community spirit, of which there was a lot locally, did have its downsides.

‘We could simply go to Spain.’

‘Your mother hates me.’

‘I don’t think she particularly likes me either. Aria is not really the warm, maternal type. What are you looking at me like that for?’ he asked.

She shook her head, still picturing him as little boy with no one to hug him. These days he had plenty of hugs. A therapist might suggest that was why he seemed to be searching for love, but any therapist would ditch that theory after five seconds in Joaquin’s company and diagnose a man who didn’t believe in love. Let alone go out looking for it.

‘Hate is a strong word,’ he said now. ‘But, yes, she would loathe it if we arrived. And I cannot see that being a bad thing. It is time I drew a few lines in the sand,’ he said grimly.

‘I never realised what a vindictive person you are.’

‘That does put you in the minority.’

‘If we turned up, we would be shown the door quick-smart.’

‘No,’ he said calmly. ‘We wouldn’t.’

‘All right,Iwould be shown the door—you would be embraced as the prodigal son.’

‘It’smydoor, Clemmie—did you not realise that?’

He felt a weird pang in his chest when he saw the confusion flashing in her eyes. She had always seen him in a way no one else did. But it was time that she saw him as he was if they were ever to have any sort of future.

He froze, his eyelashes flickering as he asked himself where that thought had come from?

Did hewanta future in which Clemmie saw him as he actually was?

‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

‘I mean that my grandfather left everything—the entire estate—to me when he died. I was twenty. Sure, Mum owns this place, but the rest of the property portfolio is mine. I was “the best of a bad lot”—and I am quoting. If anyone is going to be doing any throwing out it is me.’

‘You own thecastillo?’

Clemmie had seen photos, obviously, and the building was iconic. What it represented was outside her experience. The manor was big, but the place she’d seen photos of online and in magazines was on a different scale.

‘Why did I not know this?’

‘It must have slipped my mind to mention it. Or maybe we don’t share everything?’

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