Page 48 of The Spaniard's Surprise Love-Child

Shewas pathetic for believing that Rio had changed, not that he loved her, she wasn’tthatdeluded, but that he cared a little, that fatherhood had changed him from the man whose socks had a longer lifespan than his lovers and probably more respect from him too.

He had actually had the gall to look angry ather! As if he were the victim... Her jaw quivered as she bit down on her full lower lip. Six feet five inches of muscle made a very unlikely victim in her book!

A smile painted on her face, she drifted around the room feeling the anger and disillusion building inside her. It hadn’t been what he’d been doing—well, actually it had, she admitted, experiencing a flash of nausea as she recalled the scene she had walked in on—but the thing that was the deal-breaker was the fact that he hadn’t been willing to unbend enough to explain himself, offer her the reassurance she needed.

Would she have believed him if he’d given her an explanation? She pushed away the irrelevant question, because he hadn’t given her the option and she hadn’t been forced to face her real fear, which was that she’d turn into her mother, pathetic enough to believe any lie in order to stay with the man she loved.

The worst part, the part that scared her the most, was that she had so badly wanted Rio to tell her it wasn’t what it looked like, the same way she had seen her own mother beg time after time, swallowing her husband’s stories, where somehow he was always the victim.

The idea that she might turn into a woman that her daughter would one day be ashamed of filled her with a stomach-clenching horror.

She hid her misery behind a wide smile, but no one seemed to notice that her laughter was brittle and her eyes too bright.

She was conscious of Rio returning, not that he made any attempt to talk to her. He probably expectedherto apologise to him.

Of the blonde there was no sign—not until Gwen watched the last of the taxis drive away and she thought she saw a distinctive blonde head in the back of one.

Finally the last guest was dispatched and the last crate of crockery loaded up by the ultra-efficient caterers. Gwen wandered back to the kitchen, which showed no sign of their temporary occupation, and stood watching through the window as the tall figure walking up the driveway got bigger, until Rio, who had gone down to the gates to wave people off, was close enough for her to see the grim expression on his face.

He must have seen her because he changed direction and walked up the steps directly into the kitchen.

His face looked as if it were carved of stone, his eyes flat, expressionless and bleak.

She forgot her decision to be cold and distant the moment he walked in, and just fizzed up. ‘If you’re going to say it wasn’t what it looked like, you can save your breath.’

He arched a sardonic brow and gave her a nasty smile. ‘I wasn’t.’

‘So you admit it, then!’ she shrilled out, appalled that he wasn’t even showing an iota of shame.

Rio looked at her through narrowed eyes. ‘Would it matter if I denied it?’ He knew if he did, there would just be the next time and then the time after that, and he would end up spending his life soothing her insecurities, which would eventually ruin, not just her life, but his as well. He had seen how jealousy could poison a relationship and he’d been a fool, he could see that now, to believe that trust might be possible between them.

‘I think I deserve an explanation,’ she said tightly.

‘I think I deserve your trust,’ he countered.

‘So if you walked in on me with a half-dressed man all over me you’d be just as trusting, would you?’ she snapped. ‘I thought we might be able to talk this through, but—’

‘No, you didn’t, you already made up your mind what happened. Oh, I’m not saying you wouldn’t have minded seeing me grovel!’ he flung back. ‘But even if you saw fit to forgive me, you’d bring it up whenever I got out of line!’ By the time he had finished his chest was heaving, and he was visibly shaking with the force of his emotions.

In Gwen’s heart there had been a small corner that had secretly wanted him to say something to make her feel less angry, less betrayed. He would say it was all a silly mistake and they’d both laugh over it. She’d wanted him to talk her down from the ledge but he wasn’t—if anything, he was pushing her further away.

He didn’t just not love her; he actually seemed to despise her.

A block of ice had formed in her chest in the region of her heart and she could not imagine it melting any time soon.

‘I think,’ she said quietly, ‘that Ellie and I should go home.’ She gulped and realised she had started to think of this place as home, not because of the beauty and the fine furnishings, but simply because Rio was here too.

‘Go?’ He looked shocked and then seemed to recover himself. ‘Yes, fine. If that’s what you want, I’ll arrange the flight.’

CHAPTER TWELVE

ASTHETAXIdrew up in front of the cottage she felt none of the comforting sense she had anticipated she’d feel coming home.

‘All right, love?’

She blinked and smiled at the driver. ‘Fine, thanks.’

‘Let me help you with this lot.’

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