especially to the two woman who should have been closest to him.
“All this time, Marisa has been a silent shadow. She was the sister I never knew and who I knew nothing about. It’s not right. She was a real person.”
He realized his fist was clenched, but he couldn’t seem to unlock it. “She was my mother and you shouldn’t have swept her story out the door with yesterday’s dust.” His voice trembled with rage.
“She died so young.” His father shook his head. Amado resisted the urge to step forward and put a hand on his shoulder. “She never had a chance to become a woman.”
“She was a woman. You may not have wanted to accept it, but your little girl grew up. She bore a child.”
“I don’t…I don’t…” his father spluttered.
“You don’t want to think about that.” Amado’s words shattered the stunned quiet. “You never did. You just wanted her to be your little girl forever, which is probably why she ran away to New York in the first place. You can’t keep everything the same as it was in the nineteenth century. Like the estate, we must change and grow in order to keep living.”
“If only she’d never met that Tarrant Hardcastle.” The words dripped from his father’s tongue like acid.
“But she did. And now I must meet him, too.” The resolve formed in Amado’s mind as he said the words. This family was done with ignoring unpleasant realities. He wanted to face them head on.
For years, he’d tried to forget the pain of losing his fiancée. He’d always suspected that Ignacio had had a hand in Valentina’s leaving, but to hear him admit it—
Adrenaline flashed through his muscles and he struggled to keep himself under control.
He was done being played. Perhaps meeting his birth father would bring some reality back into this charade.
“I’ll meet Tarrant Hardcastle and make up my own mind about him.”
“He’s not your father. He didn’t raise you.”
“He bears half the responsibility for bringing me into this world, whether he wanted to or not.” He drew in a breath as anger heated his blood. “Now he thinks he can fold me to his bosom like a long-lost sheep?” He blew out a hard breath. “We’ll see. For now, I want to look into the face of the man who left my mother to die.”
He glanced at Susannah, who’d watched their exchange, her kiss-reddened lips parted in stunned silence.
He cursed the strong feelings Susannah herself had awakened in him. He couldn’t seem to get her out of his mind. Her solemn gaze haunted him, and her hungry passion.
And he had to admit that, along with the chaos she’d unleashed, came the fresh air of truth.
He drew in a deep breath and stared at her. “I’ll come to New York with you.”
Chapter Six
Susannah and Amado stood side by side in the elevator, ascending to Tarrant’s private office on an upper floor of his Fifth Avenue retail palace. Amado’s tailored suit gave him a formal, distant air. Usually unruly and windblown, his dark hair was slicked back to reveal his strong features.
He didn’t speak. He seemed lost in thought—and who wouldn’t be?
Tarrant, his wife Samantha, daughter Fiona and newfound son Dominic were waiting for them.
Susannah was only there because Amado wouldn’t let her go.
He’d insisted that she spend the night with him in his room at The Pierre. There he drew her into the tight circle the two of them made, away from prying eyes. He worked his dark, sensual magic on her, turning her inside and out in a realm of intense pleasure.
She didn’t even try to resist.
He needed her. Longing and tension snapped in the air. She could taste his anger in the heat of his skin. Smell his hunger in his musky male scent.
His lovemaking was aggressive, demanding, unbearably erotic.
Afterward, they’d lain tangled in the expensive sheets, exhausted and more wound-up than ever.
Ding.
The elevator stopped. Amado hooked his arm around her elbow as if to foil any attempted escape.
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