Page 31 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

She halted, aware of what she’d just said, but Alejandro just laughed at her discomfort.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Because I don’t do involved relationships.’ Then he was serious too. ‘You say he liked you working?’

‘Yes, but he’d never have supported me in my own venture.’

‘That’s sad.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes,’ Alejandro said. ‘I’ve seen the results of that first-hand. If my father had gone and watched my mother, travelled with her...’

‘Well, he did have three children.’

‘We’d have been raised by nannies either way.’ He looked over to her. ‘Like I said before, break-ups don’t have to be hard. People just make them so.’

‘I think it depends on if you’re the one doing the breaking up—’

‘No,’ he cut in. ‘Why not just agree from the start that it goes nowhere? Enjoy each other for however long and then walk away without regret?’

Alejandro had made it sound like an invitation...as if he was inviting himself on her adventure.

They drove in silence but the words hung between them and she played them over and over, wondering if by some chance he’d been talking about them.

He made it sound so easy...so uncomplicated.

Could it be?

CHAPTER SIX

THEBAREVINESseemed endless, and the sun was low in the late-afternoon sky as they pulled in at a vineyard.

‘In summer this is busy,’ said Alejandro. ‘But now we have just select groups—fine dining for suppliers and exporters, weddings and such...’

He took her up to the function room, where they spoke with the head chef, who seemed a little startled to see Alejandro.

‘It’s fine,’ he said, ‘we’re not here to eat. I’m just showing Emily around. She’s designing the new website. Here we hold weddings, and the annual Romero ball,’ he told her.

‘I’ve heard about that.’

‘It’s stunning when it’s lit up for the evening.’

‘I’d love to see it.’

‘Would you?’

She nodded.

‘We’re only open for lunches at the moment,’ the chef explained. ‘Perhaps come back at the weekend?’

They sorted out times, then headed down to the ground floor, where there were just a few staff around. They all smiled at Alejandro and nodded to Emily, as she stood taking frantic notes and the odd photo.

‘This is Carlos,’ he said, introducing her to one of the staff. ‘I’ll leave Emily with you for a moment,’ he told him. ‘Carlos is the person to ask for all historical details and the family tree...’

Carlos was indeed knowledgeable, and took her to the vast presses where the grapes were crushed. The walls were lined with images of days gone by, when it had been done by foot. She looked at the photos of men pushing the grapes barefoot.

‘It was a celebration,’ Carlos explained. ‘One basket per man...one bottle of sherry for a basket.’ He took her outside. ‘This is where the chickens used to be kept.’

‘A lot of chickens,’ Emily said.

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