‘Why not?’
‘It does not exist.’
It was the coldest, most definite statement possible and one that left her in no possible doubt that she would be foolish to try and argue him out of his stance. She might as well bang her head hard against the stone wall that surrounded the terrace, leading to the curving steps down to the swimming pool. But she was so appalled at the black cynicism of his tone, the opaque appearance of his eyes, as if he had shut himself off from her, that shock and disbelief pushed unthinking words from her mouth.
‘And so you bought yourself a wife.’
‘No,’ Santos drawled cynically. ‘I did not buy …’
‘What else would you call it?’
‘I would not call it anything, señorita. Nothing at all. Because, if you remember, I did not end up with a wife at all. My fiancée did not keep her promise.’
The pointed reminder was guaranteed to close Alexa’s throat completely, choking off any words she might have managed. He was right, of course, whatever their arrangement had been, Natalie had broken her promise to him. A terrible thought crossed her mind. Was it possible that he was angry enough to sue for breach of promise?
‘And I did not just want a wife—there was more to it than that.’
‘How? What else did you want?’
‘A union with a respectable, dynastic family name. You’ve heard the nickname,’ Santos added when she looked at him askance, a frown of doubt creasing the space between her brows.
‘El brigante?’
A curt nod of his dark head acknowledged that she was right.
‘It is not used as a compliment.’
‘And that matters to you?’
She couldn’t believe it. He seemed so indomitable, so unconcerned by anyone else’s opinion.
‘I don’t give a damn,’ he confirmed her suspicions. ‘But I do not want my children to have to fight for their place in society as I have done. With your sister as their mother—with her family name linked to theirs—even the most conservative, most prejudiced types would have had to accept them.’
There was a bitterness in his tone that made his words ring with a harsh truth. There was no need for him to explain the prejudice he had had to live with. It was there in his voice, in the darkness of his eyes; so sharp and savage that she winced inside to hear it and the thought of what was behind it.
‘I can only apologise.’
Her voice trailed away as Santos lifted broad shoulders in a shrug that expressed total indifference without any need of words. But the indifferent gesture didn’t match with the dark ice in his eyes, the freezing glare that seemed to burn right through to the bone.
‘You think an apology will suffice?’
‘I think it would at least be—polite.’
‘Ah yes, and the English, they are always so very polite. That of course makes everything right.’
‘I never said that!’ Alexa protested, flinching away from his black cynicism. ‘But would it have been any better if Natalie had told you herself?’
‘Is that what you would have done, hmm?’ Santos questioned with a deadly softness that made Alexa shiver involuntarily as she caught the venom that threaded through it. ‘Would you have come to me yourself? Would you have told me the truth, I wonder? Or would you have done what your sister has done and fled the country rather than face me?’
Right now, she could quite understand why Natalie had behaved as she had, Alexa told herself. Just at this moment she could imagine that she would do anything, go anywhere rather than face him. He didn’t raise his voice or put any force into his words. He didn’t need to. The barely reined-in anger was there in the bite of his words, contrasting with the unbelievable gentleness of his delivery. A gentleness that was somehow so much more forceful than if he had shouted.
‘Natalie did what she had to do,’ she managed, fighting to keep the tension she was feeling from showing in her voice. If Santos spotted any sign of weakness in her then he would be quick to take advantage of it, and she was determined to give him as little opportunity to do so as she could.
‘She did what she had to do,’ he echoed derisively. ‘And left you to face the consequences while she ran away to be with her lover. And yet still you defend her. Still you fight her corner.’
‘She’s my sister.’
‘Only your half-sister.’
‘But family—and you know how important that is.’
‘On the contrary …’
Alexa would have sworn that it was impossible for Santos’s tone to become any colder, but she could practically see the ice forming on the words as he spoke them, feel the chill of his tone sear across her exposed skin.