sleek black cars arrive. Guests spilled out, full of happiness and laughter. Was he the only damn person here tonight who wasn’t happy?
As yet more guests made their way past him he stood tall, trying not to think again of the moment he’d returned to his apartment after Angelina’s party to find Lisa had gone. She’d left before him claiming a headache and hadn’t even waited to tell him. She’d just left a note on the bed—the bed they’d shared such pleasure in.
I can’t be what you need me to be, Max, and you can’t give me what I want.
He’d wanted to turn straight round and go after her, drag her from the little flat she’d moved into when their marriage had first fallen apart and bring her back. But he’d stood and looked at his reflection in the windows, black against the night. He’d never chased after a woman and he sure as hell wasn’t going to start now.
He swore savagely in Spanish under his breath as yet more party guests arrived and paced to the door. What if something had happened to her? What if she was ill?
No, that is exactly what she wants you to think. Don’t give her the satisfaction.
What had happened to his mother wouldn’t happen again. He’d finally managed to get that clear in his mind and, by doing so, his emotions had started to unlock, to engage with hers. He’d been on the verge of admitting something he’d never thought possible, but Lisa’s cold note proved how foolish that would have been, how weak he had become.
As those dark thoughts roused his anger further, another car pulled up in front of the doors and he watched as Raul got out, then turned and took Lydia’s hand as she slid gracefully from the car. She looked stunningly beautiful in her gold dress, but it was the love in her eyes as they met Raul’s that really rocked Max to the core, until he felt such violent shaking that he thought an earthquake was happening.
Once inside the hotel, Raul was oblivious to his brother, his attention so fully focused on his wife that Max felt as if he were watching from a distance, that he was seeing something he couldn’t have.
‘But I love you, Max, why can’t you let me in? Let me love you? Maybe then you can love me too.’
Those words that Lisa had said at the cottage, the words that had condemned any chance of them being together, rushed back at him, like an angry dog, snarling and snapping at him. Forcing him to listen. To think and, worst of all, to feel.
‘Max?’ Lydia’s voice saved him from the savage jaws. ‘Where’s Lisa?’
The lovely smile had slipped from Lydia’s face as she and Raul had walked over and, if he wasn’t mistaken, there was a cool reserve of suspicion in her eyes. Already the two women had formed a close friendship, so wasn’t it only natural that Lisa would confide in her? But had she told Lydia he wanted a divorce?
‘She is on her way.’ His words were short and he didn’t miss Raul’s brows flicking upward in question.
‘On her way?’ The accusation in Lydia’s voice was as clear as a mountain stream in the spring. ‘From where?’
He sighed, not wanting this inquisition right now. ‘She had other plans today and insisted she’d make her own way here this evening.’
When Lisa had finally answered her phone yesterday afternoon she’d been adamant that he was not going to fetch her. The fire of independence in her had raged so strong he hadn’t been able to talk her round, but he had sent a car for her, along with the diamonds he’d given her at Christmas as a reminder of their deal. That had been several hours ago, so where the hell was she?
With a sinking sensation deep inside him he realised she wasn’t coming. His phone vibrated in his inside pocket and he pulled it out, but the text was from the driver of the car he’d sent for Lisa, informing him that Mrs Martinez had not required it.
‘Problems?’ Raul asked, his dark eyes watchful and irritatingly knowing.
‘Lisa is behind schedule, so I suggest we go on into the party.’ He put on his most charming smile and used it to its full advantage on Lydia. It didn’t quite have the effect he was hoping for, but when Raul took her arm, urging her to do as Max suggested, the attention was finally off him.
He lingered behind the happy couple as they made their entrance into the magnificent room. He stayed at the top of the wide flight of steps as they descended into the party. He couldn’t go down yet, couldn’t mingle with such joyous happiness when his heart beat so savagely in his chest.
Not only had Lisa left him, she’d stood him up too.
He absently scanned the room, looking but not seeing the array of colours of the ladies’ dresses and the uniform black of tuxedos. The light and melodious sound of a grand piano competed with the cacophony of laughter and voices. He didn’t belong here. Not tonight.
‘You look like you could do with this.’ Raul’s voice startled him and he turned to see his brother beside him, a glass of whisky in his hand.
Without a word he took it, swirled the amber liquid round the glass and then looked at Raul. ‘Where’s Lydia?’
‘With friends. Now are you going to tell me what is really going on?’
His first instinct was to tell him nothing was going on, but he didn’t want to. There was a connection between him and Raul, a bond made so quickly that he owed it to him, his brother, to be honest. To admit his failings.
He drank the whisky back in one quick gulp and looked at Raul. ‘We are getting divorced.’
Raul swore harshly in Spanish, causing guests who were just arriving at the party to turn and look at him as they made their way down the stairs and into the centre of the merriment and celebration.
‘She asked for a divorce?’ The disbelief in Raul’s usually firm tone was all too apparent.
‘She did, before she knew about the baby.’
‘And you want a divorce?’ The disbelief in Raul’s voice was clear.
‘I do now.’
Raul swore again. ‘We can’t talk here,’ he said, looking around him. ‘Let’s get another drink.’
He turned and made his way down the stairs and Max knew he had to follow. Not out of any sense of duty or obligation, but because he wanted to. Hell, he had to share this with someone. He needed someone to reassure him he was doing the right thing, because it sure as hell didn’t feel like it.
Raul led him through the snooker room and into a bar more reminiscent of a men’s club and gestured toward two large leather chairs by the window. Max sat and within seconds two glasses of whisky were on the table between them. Outside the window, Max could see the street and the cars and cabs moving away from the hotel entrance after dropping off their passengers.
Lisa wasn’t going to be one of them. His stupidity had made damn sure of that.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Raul looked at him sternly as he launched his tirade, one he deserved every bit of. He’d avoided love, telling Lisa what she wanted to hear, because he thought he could save her from hurt, but he’d only her hurt her even more and now she’d left him. Just as everyone else he’d ever loved had. Hell, even Angelina couldn’t
