Page 71 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

Head over heels in love with him.

She knew then why she’d almost shouted in anger before...why she’d been shaking as she’d confronted him.

Because she was angry with herself.

It was she who was lying in this relationship.

She who was breaking their rules.

Emily utterly and completely loved him.

And it would ruin their last days if he knew.

She went a little wild...bought the shoes that matched the dress and a small handbag too.

‘Thank you,’ she said, as she took out her credit card, and saw the assistant’s slight frown.

Ah, so Alejandro had indeed called ahead.

But no. She didn’t need him to buy her clothes. She had just needed a nudge to do so, and she knew that never, ever would she be in this position again.

Never, ever would she walk through Seville on a bright spring day, knowing she would be with Alejandro tonight.

Never, ever would she turn down an itty-bitty lane and peer into an antiques shop window, stare at the cover of a flamenco record leaning on an old gramophone. Instead of showing a colourful female dancer, it was the shadowy silhouette of a man by an open fire.

It could almost be Alejandro, Emily thought.

It wasn’t, of course—the vinyl was far too old for that. But it was enough to propel her into the shop.

‘Excepcional...’the owner told her, letting her know it was rare, but it wasn’t that, nor even the gorgeous cover, that had her entranced.

As she looked at the track list she was sure there was a version of the song they had danced to on the night they had first made love.

It was too much, Emily thought, putting the record down. Though for once it wasn’t the cost she was wrestling with, but the gesture. It was too romantic, she told herself, and she thanked the owner and moved to walk out.

Anyway, Alejandro had a huge record collection, and he could afford anything...

But she wanted to give him a gift.

Something from her.

To him.

She turned around.

‘Me gustaría comprar esto.’ ‘I’d like to buy this.’

No, never again would she be walking along the balcony of a Moorish palace, excited by her purchase, wondering about his reaction, feeling like an Arabian princess who would be with her prince tonight. Looking up at the mosaic tiling and soaring arches, and then down to the maze of plants beneath...

And wondering how not to cry.

How to get through the upcoming days and somehow hide the love she’d just acknowledged—but only to herself.

She was nervous as she crossed the hotel foyer. Worried that her silent admission might be blazing in her eyes. And there he was, shaking hands with his lunch date, so she held back, not wanting to disturb them.

But he looked over—and then looked again.

‘Good God!’ He gave her a smile as he came over. ‘I just had to give myself a quick talking-to. I saw this gorgeous blonde smiling at me and had to remind myself that you were upstairs and I’d promised you a month of commitment.’

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