He had given her the house to use for as long as she wanted. He flew up on occasional weekends when he could get away from work and she enjoyed their developing relationship, even though they didn’t always see eye to eye on everything. Emelia had even made a fragile sort of peace with his young wife who, she realised, really did love her father in spite of his many faults. In many ways Krystal reminded her of herself when she had met and married Javier. Krystal was a little naïve and star-struck by the world her husband lived in and did everything she could to please him. It made Emelia cringe to witness it, but she knew there was nothing she could say.
The one thing Emelia and her father crossed swords over was Javier. Her father thought she shouldn’t have run away without speaking to him. In Michael Shelverton’s opinion, sending Javier divorce papers three weeks after she had left was a coward’s way out. He felt she should have at least given him a hearing.
Emelia was glad she had done things the way she had. She wanted a clean break to allow herself time to heal. But after a month she still had trouble sleeping in spite of the hours of walking and swimming she did each day to bring on the mindless exhaustion she craved.
She had covered her tracks as best she could to avoid Javier finding her. She’d gone back to her maiden name and only answered the phone if she recognised the number on the caller ID device. She had also organised with her father to have all mail go via his post office box address and he then forwarded it on to her.
She tried not to think about Javier but it was impossible to rid her memory of his touch. Her body ached for him night after night and sometimes when she was halfasleep she found herself reaching into the empty space beside her in the bed in the vain hope of finding him there.
Emelia came up the path to the front door of the house with keys in hand, but stopped dead when a tall figure rose from the wrought iron seat on the deck.
‘Hello, Emelia,’ Javier said.
She set her mouth and moved past him to open the door. ‘You had better leave before I call the police,’ she said, stabbing the keys into the lock.
He stepped closer. ‘We need to talk.’
She tried not to shrink away from his towering presence. ‘You can say whatever you want to say via my lawyer.’
‘That is not the way I do things, Emelia, or at least not this time around. I made that mistake before. I won’t be making it again. This time it is face to face until we work this out.’
Emelia tried to block him from following her inside but he put one foot inside the door. ‘If you don’t want to be visiting a podiatrist for the rest of your life, I suggest you take your foot out the doorway.’
He took hold of the door, his eyes challenging hers in a heated duel she knew she would never win. ‘We can discuss this out here or we can discuss it inside,’ he said in an implacable tone. ‘I am not leaving until this is sorted out, one way or the other.’
Emelia let the door go and stalked inside. She tossed her beach bag on the floor of the marbled foyer and, hands on hips, faced him. ‘How did you find me?’ she asked.
‘Your father gave me the address.’
Her eyes flared with outrage. ‘My father?’ She clenched her hands into fists. ‘Why, that doublecrossing, lying cheat. I knew I shouldn’t have fallen for that stupid father-daughter reunion thing. I should have known he would take sides with you. What a jerk.’
‘He loves you, Emelia,’ Javier said. ‘He’s always loved you but he’s not good at showing it, much less saying it.’
Her hands went to her hips again. ‘So now you’re the big expert on relationships,’ she said. ‘Well, bully for you.’
‘He wants you to be happy.’
‘I’m perfectly happy.’ She put up her chin. ‘In fact, I’ve never been happier.’
‘You look tired and far too thin.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘You’re not looking so hot yourself, big guy.’
‘That’s because I can’t sleep without you.’
Something flickered in her eyes. ‘I’m sure you will find someone to take my place, if you haven’t already.’
He shook his head at her. ‘You don’t get it, do you?’
She stood her ground, reminding him of a small terrier in a stand-off with a Rottweiler. ‘What am I supposed to get? I understand why you married me, Javier. I’ve always understood. I was an idiot to agree to it, but that’s what people who are blinded by love do, stupid, stupid things. But things are different now. I left you before but the accident put things on hold. This time I am determined to go through with it. It’s over, Javier. Our marriage is over.’
Javier swallowed the restriction in his throat. ‘I don’t want a divorce.’
She visibly stiffened. ‘What did you say?’
‘You heard me, querida.’
She screwed up her face in a scowl. ‘Don’t call me that.’
‘Mi amor.’
Her eyes flashed at him angrily. ‘That’s an even bigger lie. I am not your love. I have never been and never will be. I can handle it, you know. I get it, finally. Some men just can’t love another person. They hate being vulnerable. It’s the way they are wired. It can’t be changed.’
‘On the contrary, I think it can be changed,’ Javier said. ‘I have changed. I am prepared to let myself be vulnerable. I love you so much but I refused to admit it before in case it was snatched away from me. I have been lying to myself for all this time. Well, maybe not lying—more protecting myself, just as you described. I have always held something back in case I was let down.’
She stood so still and so silent, as if she had stopped breathing.
He took a breath and continued. ‘I think I have always loved you, the real you, Emelia. You don’t have to be stick-thin and done up like a supermodel to make my heart leap in my throat. You do that just by waking up beside me with pillow creases on your cheeks and blurry eyes and fighting off a cold.’
Emelia swallowed. Was she dreaming? Was she hearing what she wanted to hear instead of what he was actually saying? That happened sometimes. She had heard of it. She had done it herself, talked herself into thinking she had heard things, just because she hoped and hoped and hoped someone would say them…
‘I have shut off my emotions for most of my life,’ he said. ‘Saying I love you is something I saw as a weakness. I guess I have seen any vulnerability as a weakness. That is probably why you felt you couldn’t tell me when you weren’t feeling well. I blame myself for that. I should have known. I should have looked out for you. Even Izabella has pointed it out to me, how closed off I am.’
‘I’m not sure what this has to do with me now…’ she said uncertainly.
‘It has everything to do with you, cariño,’ he said softly. ‘I have loved you from the first moment you smiled at me. I can even remember the day. It was our first date. Do you remember it? Please tell me you haven’t
