Page 67 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

‘And you haven’t told your brother or your sister?’

‘I’m thirty-one years old. I don’t need their advice or their take on things. I have been quite busy, in fact, since the so-called break-up...’ He glanced over. ‘Why do you think I’m lying?’

‘Because Idofeel hidden.’ She screwed her eyes closed. ‘We don’t go out together...’

‘We’ve been together for three weeks,’ Alejandro said. ‘And we’ve spent all our time in bed.’ He looked over at her. ‘Do you want us to make out at work?’

‘No!’

Emily was unused to a row.

Or rather she was unused to a row with passion.

‘I feel...’ She didn’t know what to say—or rather knew that if she did say anything it would be too much.

She was crazy about him. She was trying to tell herself it was just fun, a little holiday romance, only she craved more.

And if he was cheating on Mariana then at least she could end it, start to hate him, rather than feeling this wave of emotion that had been building since the second they had met. Emotion she was trying to contain, to push down.

Because she wanted him all the time. She wanted to know about his father, his family, his sister... She wanted more involvement than he did.

‘You feel...?’ he invited as they entered the city of Seville.

Its stunning architecture would have taken her breath away on any other day, but she saw it now through tear-filled eyes, turning her head so as to not let him see.

He drove expertly through the heavy traffic, with her his tense, silent partner... Finally, she spoke. ‘I feel like a secret.’

‘We agreed to keep things discreet.’

‘No, you told me that was how it would be,’ Emily said, the floodgates opening and a lifetime of insecurities finally being given voice. ‘Are you ashamed to be seen with me?’

‘Where the hell didthatcome from?’ He looked genuinely perplexed.

‘You’re the most demonstrative man I’ve ever met, but only when we’re in private.’ Emily was as close to shouting as she had ever come. She so badly wanted to believe him, but knew she was being fed lies. ‘You don’t want a relationship—I get that. You couldn’t have made it any clearer. And now you’re suggesting I buy a new wardrobe.’

‘Because you so often say you have nothing to wear.’

‘And you want me to get my hair cut.’

‘Every morning you complain about your hair. You told me you cut it yourself. I thought it might feel nice?’

‘Hair salons are a waste of money.’

They were pulling into a hotel forecourt. Doormen were leaping forward, whistles were blowing as Alejandro’s car came to a halt. And so too did her heart as she choked out a question.

‘Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?’

‘Emily...’

‘Am I not sophisticated enough?’

She didn’t await his answer.

As the doorman opened the passenger side Emily leaped out.

For a full moment he sat there, gripping the steering wheel, stunned at their row. He’d never cared enough to row before, and he never invited drama in.

Alejandro was appalled, too, that in trying to shield Emily from the wrath of both his and Mariana’s family if their affair was exposed he’d made her feel like some grubby secret.

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