Zac was here. She’d seen him. There was no way she could walk away again. She didn’t have it in her. She didn’t want to be miles away, not knowing, missing even more of his life. She would prove herself to her husband if it was the last thing she did. And then he would have to acknowledge her role in their son’s life.
‘Well?’ Isandro stood at the door, dressed impeccably in jacket and tie again, every inch of him the banking giant whose influence induced fear and awe among adversaries and colleagues alike. Her eye caught that muscle twitching in his hard jaw. The fact that he wasn’t as controlled as he looked was no comfort.
Rowan looked at him steadily and said, very clearly, ‘I’m coming with you.’
After that things happened with scary swiftness. Isandro plucked a phone from his pocket and made a call, unleashing a stream of Spanish that Rowan only understood bits of. Her once fluent command of the language was rusty from lack of use.
He finished the conversation and pocketed the phone. He had an implacable expression on his face, but she could sense the underlying anger and impatience. He did not want her coming with him. She was quite sure that he had most likely been advised by someone that to offer to bring her back to Spain was a good idea. And he had expected her to say no. To be so unwelcome made her feel a little queasy.
‘Where do we need to go to get your things?’
Rowan shook her head. ‘Nowhere. I have everything with me.’
Isandro’s body stilled. He flicked a derisive glance to the tiny case by her side. ‘Everything?’
She nodded. ‘It’s all in there. And I have my passport in my handbag.’
‘You haven’t been living here?’
She shook her head, unbelievably stung by the evidence of his uninterest. He really had taken her note to heart. He hadn’t tried to find her. And while that had been her objective in leaving the provocative note … it still hurt.
He took a step closer as he straightened his cuffs. ‘Care to tell me where you have been living? Or do you expect me to believe you’ve been living out of a suitcase that size for two years?’
Rowan blinked and swallowed painfully. She had, actually. If he looked hard enough he might recognise that it was the case she’d had with her in the hospital, when she’d given birth to Zac … might even recognise that this, her one and only decent suit, was also two years old. But of course he wouldn’t. His questions were cutting far too close to the bone. Literally.
‘It doesn’t matter where I’ve been, Isandro. What matters is that I’m here now.’
His eyes were intensely blue on hers for a long moment. And then he shrugged. ‘Come. It’s time to leave.’
Rowan hitched her bag on her shoulder, and had caught the handle on her suitcase when he surprised her by coming back and leaning close, to take it out of her hand with a brusque movement. Their hands touched. She was so shocked at this contact that she snatched hers back, as if burnt. She could feel her eyes widening, her breath quicken, her heart race, and knew she looked shocked, but couldn’t hide her response.
He stood to his full height and, helpless, Rowan could only gaze up into his eyes. That small physical contact was unleashing a maelstrom of sensations, images, memories, and, as if Isandro knew exactly what was going on inside her, he looked her up and down with studied insolence. His look, when it came to rest on her face again, was remote, utterly cold, and Rowan was in no doubt that he had just read her perfectly and did not welcome her reaction. Rejection flowed from every line of his tautly held body, and she had never felt so humiliated in her life.
By some small miracle he said nothing, merely turned on his heel, carrying the case and walked out of the room, not even checking to see if she was following. She caught up with him at the lift. He was staring resolutely ahead. She still burned.
‘Where …?’ She hated the tentative sound of her voice. ‘Where is Zac?’
The bell pinged and she followed Isandro into the lift. He waited till they were descending and said coolly, ‘Zac has gone on ahead to the plane with his nanny. By the time we get there he should be down for his nap, so will have the minimum of disruption to his schedule.’
‘Oh.’ She was struck, heartened to see how closely attuned to his son’s life he obviously was.
The lift doors pinged again and opened onto the lobby. Isandro strode out. Rowan struggled to keep up. A very attractive woman in a suit hurried over to speak to him, and when he stopped Rowan could see that she wore a manager’s badge. She had huge blue eyes that looked up at Isandro with undisguised appreciation. He smiled down at her easily, and for a second Rowan couldn’t breathe, such was the force of his smile. She’d forgotten just how potent his charm was. Not that he’d ever had to lavish much on her; she’d been a conquest he hadn’t had to woo, after all.