Page 39 of Midnight Surrender to the Spaniard

‘What happened?’ Anna asked, unable to help herself. ‘With your fiancée?’

‘Plenty.’

‘It must have hurt, though?’ she ventured. ‘When it ended?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you love her?’

‘No.’

Now it was Anna who gave a slightly disparaging laugh. ‘That would do it...’

‘Believe me, it was never about love.’ He looked over at her. ‘On either side.’ Perhaps he saw the slight twist of her mouth, because he added, ‘Whatever you might have read.’

Anna flushed. ‘I’m not usually so nosey. I just—’

‘It’s fine.’ He gave a small shrug, as if forgiving her for her brief foray into internet stalking. ‘I certainly lookedyouup after we...’

‘What did you find out?’

‘Nothing,’ he admitted. ‘I found your parents. Oh, and a photo of them, the proud grandparents, in one of your father’s parish newsletters.’ Now he gave her a smile. ‘Your daughter was dressed as a unicorn.’

‘Oh, that was so last year!’ Anna laughed. ‘She’s into flamenco dancing now. Emily brought her back this dreadful dress—’

She halted, suddenly worried about disparaging his heritage—especially given his mother was a famous flamenco dancer.

‘It’s bright green with black polka dots...’ she attempted, trying to explain the fright of this dress. ‘I’m sure most are gorgeous, but this one...’

Her voice trailed off as he started scrolling through his phone, but she knew she must forgive him. Because what would he know about four-year-olds who wanted to wear their flamenco dresses to the shops, to school, to church, to bed...? As well as that, he was clearly up to his eyeballs in putting out Romero fires, with the family planning to descend on Marbella at any moment.

Despite his little jab about separate beds, Sebastián was mightily relieved that they hadn’t slept together last night.

She’d opened up his heart when he preferred to keep it closed.

‘Do you want a lift to the hospital later?’ he offered, one last time.

‘If it’s not too inconvenient.’

He nodded, and went to go, but then changed his mind. ‘You are beyond an inconvenience, Anna Douglas.’

If she told anyone else what he’d said, or if she attempted to repeat it, it would sound like an insult or a criticism.

You probably had to be looking into his bloodshot black eyes to really interpret his meaning, Anna thought. Or you had to be inhaling the dregs of last night’s cologne over the breakfast table to understand.

Because inconvenient was exactly what this attraction was.

Their attraction was so intense, sopresent, that it shocked her. She thought of his mild invitation last night and knew she could not be this playboy’s occasional fling.

He would move on—that much he had told her.

One night had been a delicious oddity.

Two might break her...

‘As are you,’ Anna replied now, staring back at this man she would prefer not to want to quite this degree.

And with that, he got up and left.

---