The months she’d spent with her grandfather in Madrid confirmed her worst fears as to the kind of man he was. If not for the gorgeous Spaniard who’d swept her off her feet, Beth would have flown back to England within days.
Theifswere many. If her grandfather hadn’t decided to invite his business partner, Ferdinand de la Rosa, and Ferdinand’s family to a dinner party to show off his granddaughter on her second night in his home, Beth would never have met Xavi. If Ferdinand hadn’t been grooming his grandson to take over the running of the Rosbel Group, and Raul determined to teach Beth everything about the business, too, Beth and Xavi wouldn’t have spent so much time together.
By the end of her first week in Madrid, she’d been smitten, and so she’d stayed. By the time autumn morphed into winter, she was back in England with a broken heart and shattered dreams.
‘Do you understand what this means, Beth?’
She blinked herself back to the present and to the man responsible for her broken heart. ‘Yes. It means I have a dog.’
Diego had been her grandfather’s only real redeeming feature. He’d doted on the soppy Spanish Water Dog.
‘It means you and I are now business partners. As you know, my grandfather retired five years ago and put the de la Rosa shares under my control—I’ve since bought my family out, so the shares are mine alone. When your grandfather retired, he entrusted his shares into my safekeeping and gave me the power to act and vote on his behalf. His death means those shares are now yours to do with as you wish. We each own thirty per cent of the company.’
Beth thought about the glamorous Rosbel Group headquarters in the heart of Madrid’s business district and all the luxury brands under its control and the stonking value of it all. Thought, too, of all her grandfather’s other assets, and shook her head in growing disbelief.
She’d never believed for a second he would leave her any of it. In the months Beth had spent working for the company, it had been like a war zone between them, ending in a screaming match when Beth had taken one too many long lunches for her grandfather’s liking. Her grandfather had shouted that if she wasn’t prepared to take the business seriously and learn her way around it and take her rightful place within it, he would leave his shares to the de la Rosas and everything else to charity. She’d shouted at him to go ahead and then refused to set foot in the headquarters again.
That was another of thoseifs. If she hadn’t been head over heels in love with Xavi, she would have flown straight home and probably never seen her grandfather again. Instead, she’d continued living with him, and slowly they’d thawed and forgiven each other.
She hadn’t wanted his money or to be groomed to run an empire and would never have agreed to spend the summer with him if she’d known that had been his end game. She’d wanted a grandfather, something he’d come to accept, even if he didn’t have a clue how to be a grandfather, but he’d been the last link to her mother, and that had been enough for Beth to learn to forgive the sense that he was hiding something fundamental about himself from her and his many, many flaws. She thought it had been the same for him, too.
‘If we combine our shares like our grandfathers did, we retain control of the Rosbel Group,’ Xavi said, pulling her out of yet another reverie.
She met his dark brown stare. It seemed impossible that the man who exuded such warmth could be so cold and cruel and so careless with another’s heart. ‘I take it you want me to entrust my shares with you like my grandfather did?’ As if she’d trust him withanything.
‘Whoever has the majority holding has the controlling interest. I’ve already fought off one hostile takeover—an American corporation with a fifteen per cent stake. I hear its ringleader’s in financial trouble now, but I have no doubt that your grandfather’s death means they or others like them will be on manoeuvres again soon.’
She downed the last of the whisky. ‘So youdowant me to entrust my shares with you.’
‘In a fashion.’ He refilled her glass and filled a glass for himself.
‘What kind of fashion? Do you want to buy them?’ He could want all he liked. Hell would freeze over before she handed him a single share of the business he’d chosen over her.
‘Only if you refuse my proposition.’
‘Which is?’
A hint of caution came into his voice. ‘I want you to promise to hear my reasoning.’
She shrugged. ‘That’s fine.’
He studied her long enough for her skin to prickle and her heart to pound harder. ‘Just hear me out and then take the time to think about it before giving me your answer. Take all the time you need.’
The prickles on her skin were growing, a sense of dread and anticipation uncoiling in her stomach. She took another drink to calm it and nodded. ‘I can do that.’
He leaned back against the cabinet, drank some whisky and said, ‘I want us to marry.’
Chapter Two
XAVI WATCHEDBETH’Sreaction closely. Other than the slightest twitching of her lips, she gave nothing away…not unless you counted the sudden loss of colour on her face. Although the knuckles of the fingers holding her glass had whitened, too, nothing suggested she was about to throw the glass at him.
He would never forget the sound of shattering glass in the moments before he’d kicked open the door of the bathroom she’d locked herself in. He’d found the tiled floor covered with shards of glass and clumps of wax from the scented candles she’d thrown on it, but his fear that she’d been hurting herself went unrealised. By the time he’d smashed the door in, all the emotions driving her to destroy his bathroom had worked their way out of her system.
Beautiful face red and blotchy through crying, she’d looked him in the eye, apologised for the mess she’d made, and with quiet dignity walked out of his life.
Two years passed before he next saw her in the flesh at her grandfather’s eightieth birthday. She’d embraced him warmly and even made a joke about the state she’d left his bathroom in. He’d been relieved, but also strangely disconcerted. It wasn’t that he’d wanted histrionics or a glass of water thrown in his face, but to find he’d meant so little to her that she could treat their break-up like a joke had thrown him.
The tendons of her neck stretching, she jerked her head, indicating for him to explain his reasoning.
