‘Thank you.’
And with her head held high Rowan stalked out of the room. She sagged once outside, though, and then hurried up the stairs, almost as if Isandro might call her back, or bring her back bodily and force her to sign. She knew that no matter what had happened he wouldn’t have done something so underhand as to add in a clause regarding custody. It wasn’t his style. And yet she knew she was right to assert herself. She’d be a fool if she let him think he could walk all over her.
Once in her room, she went and stood by the open doors and looked out onto the courtyard. Its beauty and hushed stillness soothed her. And made her aware of the pain in her heart. The pain that had lodged there when it had become so blatantly obvious that Isandro would have divorced her there and then if he’d had the choice. Got rid of her as if she was nothing more than a piece of gum under his shoe. She shouldn’t even be feeling like this. If she was, then it meant that—
A brief knock came at the door, startling her, and she opened it to reveal the maid who had woken her the other morning. She took the cordless phone with a strained smile, dug out David Fairclough’s number and made the call. She explained briefly what had happened, and warned him to expect to receive divorce papers.
That done, she took a deep, shuddering breath. This was it. The beginning of the end. The beginning of the end of their marriage of convenience. Of a marriage that had never been meant to be consummated, that should never have resulted in a baby. But it had. And she didn’t regret that for a second. Not even when it had caused her more pain and grief than she’d believed herself capable of enduring. And she would keep enduring it until she had proved herself to Isandro and come to some arrangement whereby she could live her own life and see Zac—be a part of his life too.
For the rest of that week Rowan avoided Isandro as much as possible. She saw him at breakfast, and in the evenings, when they would conduct stilted conversations at dinner. But for the rest of the time he would either be shut up in his office, out riding, or with Zac.
She relished her short time with Zac every day, when she got to see him before his nap. And relished even more how María was obviously feeling more relaxed with her presence, more inclined to use the time that Rowan had with Zac as a little break for herself. She’d bring a book and read as Zac and Rowan played.
Today, though, as María was taking Zac away for his nap, he let out a cry of distress, clearly wanting to keep playing with Rowan. Her heart broke. María smiled sympathetically. ‘He’s taken to you in a big way. But I’m afraid Señor Salazar’s instructions were explicit.’
‘María, don’t feel you have to explain. I’m here on your territory—and Zac’s.’
The woman blushed uncomfortably as Zac still wailed in her arms. ‘I know, but you seem.’ She blushed again. ‘Nice. And you are his—’
‘What’s going on here?’
Their heads turned in unison, to see Isandro striding across the lawn. He took Zac from María and inspected his tear-stained face. The quivering lip.
María rushed to speak. ‘He’s just tired, Señor Salazar. It’s time for his nap, but he was having too much fun playing with Row—’ She stopped. ‘Mrs Salazar.’
Isandro looked from her to Rowan, as if he suspected something had happened. He looked so grimly protective that Rowan’s heart lurched.
‘I’ll … I’ll go inside. I don’t want to upset him. María’s right. He’s just over-tired.’
Before he could say another word Rowan hurried inside. Feeling agitated and restless, she balked at going up to her room, where she always retreated every day. Instead she went into the main drawing room. She whirled around a moment later when she heard heavy footsteps and saw Isandro darkening the door, coming in to shut it behind him.
He advanced with lethal slowness, and Rowan backed away instinctively.
‘What is it?’ she asked flatly, because she had no doubt that Isandro was about to fill her in on her latest crime.
‘What are you doing to my son?’
Rowan shook her head and it felt fuzzy. ‘Nothing. Just playing with him.’
‘He was upset. You must have upset him.’
Rowan’s eyes grew round. She couldn’t believe the unfairness of his attack. ‘He was tired, that was all, Isandro. Children his age get over-excited easily. He’s had someone new to play with this week. By next week the novelty will have worn off.’
Isandro scowled. Her reference to next week made all sorts of hackles rise. ‘Since when did you know so much about kids?’ His voice was scathing.