The Secret Spanish Love-Child - By Cathy Williams Page 0,26

of ridiculous proportions. ‘I was never in love with Cristobel,’ he heard himself say and then immediately wondered why the hell he had felt the need to justify himself. Since when did he ever do that?

‘You weren’t in love with her?’ Her heart skipped a beat and she put that down to her surprise at his flat, unvarnished statement. She also had a moment of pure elation and she put that down to the fact that, without love in the equation, there would be a lot less to feel guilty about. And wasn’t that cause for elation? Her life had suddenly become so complicated that any help in reducing her stress levels was a reason to celebrate!

‘No, I wasn’t in love with her, Alex,’ Gabriel said heavily, frowning at her disapproving expression. ‘You should feel better because of that,’ he pointed out through gritted teeth because he seemed to have lost the reins of the conversation, which had been going very nicely. ‘You weren’t responsible for destroying the love match of the century.’

‘Why were you going to marry her?’

‘Why is any of this relevant?’

‘You should never answer a question with a question.’ Alex smirked. ‘I distinctly remember you telling me that once.’

Gabriel threw his arms up in a gesture that was exotically foreign and muttered an oath under his breath. ‘It was a union that made sense,’ he offered.

Obviously the wrong choice of words because she looked at him squarely and then mused, ‘A union that made sense. A bit like what you had in mind for us…’

Gabriel opened his mouth to correct her on using the past tense when it was very much still his current intention to settle upon his son the mantle of legitimacy, whether she liked it or not, but he decided to steer clear of reminding her of that.

‘I hope you appreciate the fact that, as yet, neither you nor Luke have been mentioned…’

‘Remind me why I should appreciate that?’

‘Because I don’t suppose you’d want the paparazzi camping on your doorstep.’

Alex could feel her brain lagging behind. She was still caught up in the fact that he would have approached marriage as a sensible business arrangement. Proof that there was a block of ice where his heart should be, was fairly piling up.

‘You never used to be so cold,’ she said, thinking aloud. ‘I mean, unless you hid it really well.’

‘You’ve lost me.’ Gabriel flushed darkly and scowled. Thinking back to those heady times with her was like remembering a different person. He hadn’t strolled on a promenade eating an ice cream cone since he had been with her. Incognito. Being Lucio had been a far cry from being Gabriel Cruz. Unfortunately, this was his life. Promenade strolls eating ice cream and pretending the world as he knew it didn’t exist had been enjoyable but it was a thing of the past. And being reminded of that served no purpose. Nor did he care for the implication that he was some kind of soulless monster because he happened to take his responsibilities seriously.

Nor, for that matter, did he care for the expression she was wearing on her face, which seemed to be a combination of incomprehension and pity.

‘Have I?’ Alex asked, staring off into the distance before settling her thoughtful gaze on his face.

‘But all this is by the by. I haven’t come here for a character assessment, Alex.’

‘No. Well, I’m hoping you haven’t come here to repeat your offer of marriage because I haven’t changed my mind. Cristobel,’ she added for good measure, ‘might be prepared to enter into a loveless business arrangement with you because the perks are good, but I’m not.’

‘Whoever mentioned anything about marriage?’ Gabriel shrugged. ‘I offered to do the decent thing; you turned me down because you’d prefer to occupy the moral high ground.’

Alex was disconcerted to discover that she was vaguely disappointed at his rapid retraction of his marriage offer. ‘I’m not occupying any moral high ground.’ Her voice had risen fractionally and she took a deep breath.

‘No importa. It doesn’t matter.’

‘No. No, it doesn’t. So…thank you for sparing me the paparazzi camping on the front lawn, although if the world is dying to know the details of your broken engagement, then I guess it’s just a matter of time before it all comes out in the wash and the paparazzi get here. I can handle it. I’m very good at saying no comment and, believe me, I don’t want my life disrupted any more than you do.’

‘You