LITMIR.BIZ

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door opened and a woman walked into the sitting room.

      Elin had met Teresa’s sister Sancha earlier in the day. She smiled, trying to ignore a little flicker of feminine jealousy of the Spanish woman’s stunning looks. It was no surprise that Sancha worked as a presenter for a national television station in Madrid, she mused. Sancha’s gorgeous figure looked as if it had been poured into her tight-fitting white dress, and the colour was a perfect foil for her smooth olive-gold skin. Her jet black hair had been cut into an asymmetric bob that showed off her high cheekbones and flashing dark eyes.

      Sancha closed the door and strolled over to sit down on a chair opposite Elin. ‘I’m glad to have a few moments alone with you,’ she murmured. ‘I must congratulate you.’

      Despite the other woman’s apparently friendly tone, Elin was aware of undercurrents swirling in the room. She looked at Harry, who had fallen asleep in the baby carrier. ‘Thank you. I feel very lucky to have a beautiful son and so does Cortez.’

      ‘Mmm...’ Sancha did not glance at the baby. ‘It was clever of you to turn up and present Cortez with his son. I suppose you had guessed that, having suffered the stigma of being born to an unmarried mother himself, he would not allow his child to be illegitimate. That is the reason he is marrying you, isn’t it?’

      ‘I really think that is between me and Cortez,’ Elin said politely, but her insides were knotted with tension as she waited for Sancha to get to the point. She did not have to wait long.

      ‘It’s all right; he explained it all to me.’ The Spanish woman gave a little feigned laugh when she saw Elin’s expression. ‘Oh, didn’t you know that Cortez and I were lovers?’

      She hadn’t known for sure, but Elin had suspected. Several times during the afternoon she had noticed Sancha and Cortez standing apart from the other guests, their dark heads bent close as they spoke intently. There had been an incident when Sancha had asked Cortez to get her a drink and he hadn’t had to ask what she wanted; he’d simply brought her a glass of white wine. The seemingly insignificant event had revealed an intimacy to their relationship that went far beyond that of casual acquaintances. But Elin was not going to let Sancha know that she felt as if she had been stabbed through her heart.

      ‘Cortez is a very attractive man, and I’d be surprised if he hadn’t had other lovers in his past.’

      Sancha gave her a speculative look. ‘It’s good that you have a sensible attitude to his relationship with me. He often has business in Madrid and he always stays at the apartment he bought for us. Would you like to see a picture of it?’ She took her mobile phone from her purse and held it out. Elin didn’t want to look at the photo on the screen but her eyes were drawn to the image of a bare-chested Cortez lying on a bed with a sheet draped over his hips.

      ‘The apartment only has one bedroom, but it has a very big bed,’ Sancha said coyly, twisting the knife into Elin’s heart. ‘I took this photo the last time Cortez was in Madrid three weeks ago.’

      Elin almost choked on the bile that rose in her throat. Three weeks ago, Cortez had told her he was going to Madrid for business, and he’d stayed away for the night. When he had returned to La Casa Jazmín he had suggested that they get married so that they could both be full-time parents to Harry. But he must have told Sancha of his intention to marry the mother of his child. How else would the Spanish woman have known that it was a marriage of convenience? Elin thought grimly.

      She stood up and busied herself with packing Harry’s bottle, bib and other paraphernalia into the changing bag while she stifled the hurt that ripped through her. Pride came to her aid and she gave Sancha a bland smile.

      ‘I can guarantee that in future if Cortez has business in Madrid he will come home the same day because he won’t want to be apart from his wife and son for even one night.’ She held out her hand to Sancha and took a small triumph from the Spanish woman’s look of surprise. ‘It was nice to meet you,’ she murmured before she picked up Harry in the baby carrier and forced herself to walk unhurriedly out of the room.

      But Sancha’s poison drip-fed into Elin’s mind on the journey back to La Casa Jazmín. Cortez seemed convinced by her explanation that she was tired after he’d remarked that she was very quiet. She closed her eyes to shut out his handsome profile while her thoughts went round and round in her head.

      She accepted that he must have had countless affairs with beautiful women in his past. Elin could even accept that Sancha had been his mistress. But three weeks ago he had vowed to fight for custody of his son and he had even offered her Cuckmere Hall if she signed custody of Harry over to him. Despite being desperately hurt by his accusation that she was a drug addict, in a strange way she had felt reassured by Cortez’s determination to take care of his son. But now she knew that on the same day he had vowed to fight to keep Harry he had visited Sancha in Madrid and spent the night with her. So much for Cortez’s promise that he would be a devoted father. He hadn’t given Harry a thought when he’d rushed off to have sex with his lover, Elin thought bitterly.

      She recalled their conversation when they had been driving to the Garcías’ house and Cortez had asked her what kind of man his father had been. Ralph Saunderson had had a low boredom threshold, which presumably was the reason why he’d had numerous extra-marital affairs and why he had lost interest in his adopted children. Elin remembered how, as a child, she had studied hard at school, hoping to impress her adoptive father, but his disinterest had decimated her self-confidence and left her feeling worthless.

      What if Cortez grew bored of fatherhood? She couldn’t bear to think of Harry when he was older, trying to please his father and make him proud, but then feeling a failure if Cortez rejected him. Cortez had never had a chance to know Ralph but it was likely that he had inherited some of his father’s traits. And perhaps, like his father, he did not consider fidelity important in marriage. Elin had a sudden flash of insight to a future where she was tormented by jealousy and suspicion every time they attended a social event and she wondered which beautiful woman was her husband’s latest mistress.

      She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t go through with the wedding when she knew that Cortez was only marrying her out of duty. He had stated that marriage was the best option to give Harry a settled upbringing. But how could a childhood marred by his parents’ rows and recriminations be good for Harry?

      Cortez’s phone rang as they walked into La Casa Jazmín. He frowned when he checked the name of the caller. ‘I need to speak to the head of the Japanese branch of Saunderson’s Bank,’ he told Elin. ‘Can you manage Harry on your own?’

      ‘Of course I can.’ Was he implying that he didn’t think she had been capable of looking after her baby before he’d arrived on the scene like some knight on a white charger to take up his role as Harry’s father? she thought irritably. She had managed perfectly well for the past couple of days while the nanny had taken annual leave to do some sightseeing in nearby Cadiz.

      She took Harry up to the nursery. He was fast asleep and looked so comfortable in the baby carrier that she decided not to risk waking him by moving him into his cot. But there was another reason to leave him in the baby seat. A crazy plan was forming in her mind, which, the more she thought about it, seemed to be her only option. She did not want to marry Cortez tomorrow. Too much was at stake, not least her heart. But if she refused he had threatened to fight her in court for custody of Harry.

      In her bedroom she opened the bedside drawer and took out her and Harry’s passports, which Cortez had returned to her a week ago. She had regarded the gesture as a sign that he trusted her not to take their son away. But perhaps he believed that she had fallen under his spell and was too besotted with him to consider leaving, she thought grimly.

      She knotted her fingers together, wishing she knew what to do. As far back as she could remember she had been able to ask her brother for advice, but when she had phoned him in Japan to tell him that Cortez was Harry’s father and she was going to marry him, Jarek had sounded terse and distracted and had said she should do whatever was best for her and her baby.

      Would a loveless marriage to Cortez be best for her and for their son? An image flashed

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