Jerking her fingers from the red silk dress she’d been touching, Chloe closed her eyes, trying hard not to feel like she’d become Andrés’ latest purchase.
“They will look lovely on you with your coloring,” Rosa said warmly, approaching her again. “Can I bring you tea, Chloe? Or perhaps a snack? You barely touched your lunch.”
“I’m really not very hungry,” she murmured and folded her arms across her chest.
For a brief moment, she considered the crazy idea of begging the housekeeper to help her, explaining everything that had happened. Surely she would understand Chloe’s position and emotional resentment.
As if the older woman could read her mind, Rosa said, “Andrés is a good man, señorita. I promise. Give yourself a bit of time and I know you will see this.”
“A good man? Forgive me if I’m not in a hurry to agree.” Chloe couldn’t keep the bitterness from her tone.
The housekeeper stepped away with a wary look, her brows drawn together in a scowl. “There is much you do not know about him, señorita. Much you do not understand,” Rosa said, her voice low and unsteady. That she’d taken offense was apparent now. “You should not be so quick to judge.”
“Why? He certainly seems quick to judge me?” Chloe bit her cheek, regretting her outburst when she could use this opportunity to learn more about Andrés. “What don’t I know? Please, I only want to understand him.”
“No,” Rosa said vehemently, avoiding Chloe’s gaze. “I will say no more.”
With a groan of frustration, Chloe had to restrain herself from running after the housekeeper when she left the room. But what would be the point? Rosa wouldn’t help her or say anything further—she’d made her loyalties clear.
She considered trying to find a phone or a computer and then contacting her friend Martha to beg for help. But even if Chloe did manage to get back to the States, she could well imagine what would happen the moment the baby was born.
Andrés would descend on her with a legal team that would make her knees shake with terror. She’d go broke fighting to keep her child, and in the end he would still win. Just like he’d threatened. My God, she couldn’t even imagine. Just the idea of losing her baby or walking away after it was born made her stomach hurt. He’d left her no other choice than to stay. Maybe hope that Andrés grew a heart—or at least a conscience—and changed his mind.
Tears of frustration blurred her vision and she shook her head, walking to the window to again look out at the beautiful Catalonian countryside.
She might have been in the middle of paradise, but it was her own personal hell.
Andrés arrived home from the office in the wee hours of the morning. He’d been in multiple meetings and on numerous phone calls after what he’d thought was an airtight deal had fallen through just before the business day ended.
He’d rung Rosa and asked her to inform Chloe that he would not be returning tonight. Initially he’d planned to stay in his condo in the city, but then as the hours wore on, he’d found Chloe constantly on his mind. The need to see her and touch her had dominated his thoughts, until finally he’d had his chauffer pick him up and return him back to the villa.
When Andrés opened the door to his bedroom, he found all the lights turned off, with only the light from the moon pouring in through the high window. Sure enough, Chloe was in bed, sprawled out in the middle and obviously not expecting his return.
His lips curled into a slight smile as he loosened his tie and began to undress. As he approached the bed he realized she’d ignored all the expensive nightgowns he’d bought for her and wore a T-shirt instead.
When he stood above the bed he let out a silent laugh. His T-shirt, apparently. Amazing she’d found it. It was likely the only one he owned. The shirt had been a gift from the children’s football league he’d sponsored last spring.
Chloe had kicked off the sheets, and his gaze slid over her exposed body. Somehow his shirt, clinging to her breasts and ending mid-thigh, was much sexier on her at this moment than any of the dainty nightgowns he’d bought.
Had she worn it to defy him? Or perhaps because she’d missed him and wearing his shirt made her feel closer to him? He almost laughed derisively at the second idea. She hated him. Fortunately, some of the hate could easily be transferred into desire, which he’d proven time and time again.
Thrusting a hand through his hair, he gave a murmur of surprise to realize some of his stress had vanished at having simply watching Chloe sleeping in his bed.
Once he was undressed, he slipped into bed naked, never having been one to wear pajamas. He reached for her and pulled her back against him, wondering if she’d protest even in sleep. But she only stirred slightly and then snuggled back against him.