everything you’ve done for Joya. He seems so happy now and those pictures of him at your ranch look amazing.’
‘It’s called an estancia,’ he snapped.
‘Whatever.’ Her smile widened. ‘But thanks, anyway.’
Alejandro wanted to hang onto his anger but when she looked at him like that it wasn’t easy, and it was causing his conscience to stir in an uncharacteristic way, because she looked so damned sweet. But she wasn’t sweet, he reminded himself grimly. She was as money-grabbing as her mother. And she was a heartless snob. When she’d walked away from him, she had looked down her pretty nose and given him a shuttered look when he’d asked her why.
You’re not the right type of man for me, Alej.
He hadn’t known what she’d meant, not at first. He’d been rough and unsophisticated back then. He’d seen the uncomfortable look which had crossed her features. The way she’d licked her lips, like someone being forced to eat cat food. Like a fool he had asked her, unable to believe that Emily—his Emily—could look at him so condescendingly, as if she’d never met him before.
You’re illegitimate.
And that matters? he remembered demanding incredulously.
It matters to me.
He’d wanted to tell her that his mother might not wear a wedding ring on her finger, but that his father was someone whose wealth and position could easily eclipse that of her stepfather. But he hadn’t done that, because at heart Alejandro Sabato was a proud man. And, in view of what had subsequently happened, thank God he hadn’t.
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