The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage (15 page)

The flight was on time, which meant Emelia could finally let out her breath once she was strapped into the seat, ready for take-off. She checked the watch Javier had given her, her fingers tracing over the tiny sparkling diamonds embedded around the face as she thought about him arriving right about now on the ward. He would be demanding to know where she was, where she had gone and who she had gone with. She could almost see his thunderous expression, his tightly clenched hands and the deep lines scoring his forehead. But, for some reason, instead of making her smile in satisfaction, she buried her head in her hands and wept.

E
MELIA
had spent the afternoon on the beach. The walk back to her father's palatial holiday house at Sunshine Beach in Queensland was her daily exercise. It still felt strange to be on speaking terms with her father after all this time. But his recent health scare had made him take stock of his life and he had gone out of his way since she had returned to make up for the past. 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 half-asleep 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 double-crossing, 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 forgotten it. I would hate for you not to remember the one moment that has defined my life from then on.'

Emelia gave a small nod, her breath still locked in her throat. ‘I remember.'

‘You looked at me across the table at that restaurant and smiled at something I said. It was like an arrow had pierced my heart, just like Cupid's bow. I didn't know what had hit me. I hated feeling so out of control.'

She summoned up a frown, not quite willing to let go just yet. ‘Your father's will,' she said. ‘You can't deny that it had something to do with why we married in such a rush. You should have told me about it from the start. Finding out the way I did really hurt me. I felt so used.'

He pushed his hand through his hair. ‘I didn't even know about my father's will until I had been seeing you for over a month. I had never considered myself the marrying kind. I had seen the way my father had ruined three women's lives. I didn't want to do that. I guess that's why he wrote his will that way. It was just the sort of sick joke he would have liked—to force me to do something I didn't want to do. Prior to being involved with you, I had always kept all of my relationships on a casual basis.'

His expression twisted with remorse as he continued. ‘I should have told you everything about that damned will. Instead, I let Claudine get her claws in. The thing is, I didn't want my father's money for myself. I wanted Izabella to have what was rightly hers and I didn't want to lose you. Marriage seemed a good way of keeping both things secure.'

She still looked at him doubtfully. ‘I don't think I can cope with living at the villa any longer. I know it's beautiful and grand and all that but it's way too formal for me. I feel like I am going to get roused on for bumping into things or if something breaks.'

He came over to where she was standing, stopping just in front of her. ‘The villa needs to be a home instead of a showpiece,' he said. ‘I can see that now. No wonder you never felt at ease there. That is another thing I should have realised. It needs a woman's touch—your touch—to make it the home it should always have been. Aldana has decided to retire. I have been a fool not to realise how difficult she made things for you. She didn't speak to the press—apparently, that was one of the junior gardeners—but she told me about the roses. She feels very remorseful about how she treated you. I should have told you myself why I hate having them in the house.'

She looked at him with a searching gaze. ‘Did I know that before the accident?'

He brushed his fingertips over the gentle slope of her cheek. ‘No,' he said. ‘That was another vulnerability I didn't allow you to see. They remind me of my mother's funeral. Red ones are the worst. I can't bear the sight of them. I would have had every rose bush at the villa dug up and burned by now but my mother had planted them herself.'

Emelia felt the ice around her heart begin to crack. ‘I didn't really want to leave you, Javier. I just felt I had no choice. And then the accident…' She gulped and continued hollowly, ‘Maybe Peter would still be alive if it hadn't been for me.'

He gripped her hands. ‘No, you must not think like that. I have heard from the police since you left. The accident was no accident. Peter's lover was being stalked by her ex. He was following you and Peter, mistakenly believing you to be her. He ran Peter off the road. Charges are in the process of being laid. You were not at fault.'

She put a hand to her head and frowned as the memory returned. ‘I remember Vanessa. She was the best thing that had ever happened to Peter. They were so in love.'

He gave her a pained look. ‘I know. I am ashamed of how I reacted to that ridiculous press story. I should have trusted you. You've had to endure similar rubbish and yet you've always trusted me.'

‘Until that last time,' she said. ‘The Russian singer.'

‘Yes, well, that was perfectly understandable,' he said. ‘You were in the early stages of pregnancy. I had never made you feel all that secure in our marriage. I was always flying off to sign up some big business deal. But all that has to change—if you'll only give me a chance.' He tightened his hold of her hands. ‘Say you'll come back to me, Emelia. Come back to me and be my wife. Be the mother of my children.'

Emelia blinked back tears. ‘We lost our little baby…'

He pulled her into his chest. ‘I know,' he said, softly planting a kiss on the top of her head, her seawater-damp and salty hair tickling his nose. ‘I blame myself for that. If you hadn't been so worried about me coming to terms with being a father, maybe it wouldn't have happened.'

She pulled back in his embrace to look up at him. ‘You mustn't blame yourself. My father recently told me my mother had three miscarriages before she had me. I don't know if it's hereditary or not, but I'm sure we'll have a baby one day.'

‘So you'll come back to me?' he asked.

She smiled as she linked her arms around his neck. ‘I can't think of any place I would rather be than with you.'

His dark eyes melted as he looked down at her. ‘I know someone who is going to be absolutely thrilled to hear you say that.'

She gave him a quizzical look. ‘Who?'

‘She's waiting in the car,' he said. ‘She said something about BFF. What does that mean, by the way?'

Emelia's smile widened. ‘It means best friends forever. She's really here? Izabella came all this way?'

His smile was self-deprecating. ‘She didn't trust me to be able to convince you to come home. She said if I didn't succeed she would come in and do it for me. Do you want me to call her in?'

‘Of course I do.' She ran to the window and, finding the hire car, waved madly to the young woman sitting inside chewing her nails.

Javier's gaze warmed as he came over and looped an arm around her waist. ‘There's just one thing I need to do before she gets here,' he said, turning her around to face him.

‘Oh,' Emelia said, smiling brightly. ‘What's that?'

‘I think you know,' he said and, before she could admit she did, he covered her mouth with a kiss that promised forever.