what was happening when she suddenly fell forwards and landed on her face on the gravel driveway before she had a chance to put her hand out to save herself. The realisation that the gates had swung open sent relief flooding through her, and her legs trembled as she stumbled to her feet and ran towards the house. The front door was ajar and she tore across the hall and up the stairs to the nursery.
Her baby was fast asleep and blissfully unaware of the drama of the past half an hour. She clung to the side of the cot and forced herself to breathe deeply. Harry’s long black lashes curled against his cheeks and his rosebud mouth was pursed in an adorable expression that brought more tears to Elin’s eyes. If she had to crawl over broken glass to Cortez and plead with him not to seek custody of their son she would do whatever he demanded. She had better start by apologising, she thought ruefully.
His private suite was along the corridor. Her heart was thudding as she knocked on the door, and when there was no answer she cautiously stepped into the sitting room. Cortez wasn’t there, nor in the adjoining master bedroom. Elin turned to leave, thinking he might be downstairs in his study. She froze when he emerged from the en suite bathroom.
He did not seem surprised to find her in his room and flicked his cold gaze over her while Elin stared at him uncertainly, waiting for him to speak. His simmering silence ratcheted up her tension, but the shameful longing that the sight of Cortez always evoked in her licked fiery heat through her body and pooled, hot and molten, there, between her thighs, where only he had ever touched her.
He was naked apart from the towel wrapped around his hips, and droplets of water clung to his black chest hairs. She visualised the photo of him on Sancha’s phone and all her feelings of hurt and anger exploded.
‘How dare you say I am unfit to be Harry’s mother? I have never left him to go off and spend a night with a lover.’
He frowned. ‘Neither have I.’
‘You went to Madrid, supposedly on business, and stayed with Sancha at the apartment you bought for her. She showed me a photo of you, naked in bed at your love nest. Sancha is your mistress, isn’t she?’
Cortez did not deny it, and Elin felt sick. He walked past her into the sitting room and opened his briefcase that was on the table, returning to the bedroom moments later and handing her a piece of paper.
‘What is this?’ she muttered.
‘The hotel receipt for the night that I stayed in Madrid.’ He shrugged, and Elin could not help but notice the way his powerful shoulder muscles rippled beneath his bronzed satin skin. ‘Sancha and I were lovers for a brief time but I ended my affair with her three months before I went to Cuckmere Hall for Ralph’s funeral. My property portfolio includes an apartment block in Madrid and Teresa García asked me if I would rent a flat to her sister when Sancha was looking for a place to live.’
Elin noted that the date on the receipt tallied with the night when Cortez had stayed away. ‘You could still have visited Sancha at her apartment.’ And had sex with her, she thought, but did not voice her suspicion.
‘I happened to run into her at a restaurant where I was having lunch with a client, but that’s all,’ he said calmly. ‘I crammed two days of meetings into one day and worked until late so that I could come home, rather than have to spend another night away from you and Harry.’
It was scary how desperately she wanted to believe him. ‘Then why did Sancha say that the photo of you on her phone was taken three weeks ago?’
‘To cause trouble and make you jealous, I imagine. I broke up with her because she made it plain that she hoped I would marry her.’
‘I am not jealous,’ Elin denied, flushing hotly. Cortez sounded so matter-of-fact that she found she believed him. Sancha must have been bitter that he had dumped her, and Elin knew she had been too ready to believe the Spanish woman’s spite because she was unsure of her own relationship with Cortez.
‘You threatened to fight for custody of Harry,’ she said in a low voice. ‘But I don’t want us to be embroiled in a court battle over our son. You were right to say that he needs both his parents, and so I... I want to go ahead with our wedding tomorrow.’ In fact they were due to marry later today, she realised when she glanced at the clock and saw it was almost one a.m.
Elin didn’t know how she’d expected Cortez to react. Not with a loud cheer, obviously, but she’d thought he would say something. He flicked his dark gaze over her once more and his implacable expression caused her heart to jolt against her ribs.
‘You’ll have to do better than that if you want to convince me that I should make you my wife,’ he finally drawled.
‘I don’t understand.’ She was fascinated by the glittering gold flecks in his eyes.
‘If I hadn’t caught you trying to sneak out of La Casa Jazmín, you would have stolen my son,’ he said harshly. Elin’s heart sank as she realised that he was still furious with her. ‘You need to give me a good reason why I should marry you.’
She stared at him and wished he would put some clothes on because the sight of his near naked body was making it difficult for her to think straight. ‘I don’t know how to convince you,’ she said helplessly.
He strolled over to the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress. Elin’s eyes were drawn to the towel he wore that rode up his thighs and barely concealed the bulge of his arousal. Angry and aroused were a dangerous combination, and she swallowed when her eyes crashed with his and she saw the speculative gleam in his unforgiving gaze.
‘You can start by proving to me that you will be an obedient wife. Get undressed,’ he commanded softly.
She was outraged by his arrogance, but at the same time she could not control the searing heat that swept through her and made every nerve ending in her body quiver. The truth was that she had secretly yearned for him to make love to her ever since he had brought her to Spain. When they had been out in public together he had acted the role of a loving and attentive fiancé, but when they were alone he had not made any attempt to seduce her after she’d agreed to marry him. She had believed Sancha because Cortez was such a virile man and surely he must have wanted sex in the weeks that they had been at La Casa Jazmín.
She wanted sex too, but not like this, with resentment and mistrust simmering between them. She could tell him to go to hell and retain her pride but risk the very real likelihood of losing custody of her baby. It wasn’t a risk Elin was prepared to take.
Before she had attempted her ill-thought-out escape plan she’d changed into clothes that would be comfortable for travelling in with a small baby in tow. But her jeans were difficult to peel off when her hands were trembling. She felt the blush that stained her cheeks spread all the way down to her toes as she tugged her T-shirt over her head while Cortez watched her with an intent look in his eyes that made her stomach muscles contract.
If she had hoped for a reprieve she was disappointed. ‘Why have you stopped?’ he growled. ‘Your plain underwear does not send me wild with desire. If I decide to marry you I will expect you to wear lingerie that excites me, not bores me.’
Once again she controlled the urge to tell him to go to hell. Only now did she realise how much damage she had done by betraying Cortez’s trust. But she was not going to allow him to humiliate her, Elin decided as she reached behind her and unclipped her bra. She lifted her chin and held his gaze as she slid the straps down her arms, allowing the bra to fall to the floor.
She
