She only wished it could be the truth.
Chapter Eight
XAVI RUBBED HISexhausted eyes and closed his laptop. That was it. The Grimaldi buyout would be finalised the week after his return from the Caribbean. All business was done for the next six days. He would be contactable in the event of an emergency, of course, and he had a couple of video conferences lined up, but they couldn’t be helped. His father had worked during family holidays. Xavi and his sisters hadn’t thought twice about it…although he seemed to remember his mother pursing her lips when he was late joining them for a meal or activity because of it.
His father had been on the verge of stepping into the role Xavi now held. The Rosbel Group founders had been preparing to embrace retirement when he’d received his diagnosis. Overnight, everything had changed. Retirement plans were put on ice as a miracle that never came was sought.
Strange how prominent his father had become in his thoughts in recent weeks. He was always in his heart, of course, but since Raul’s death, he’d pushed himself to the very edge of Xavi’s consciousness; a spectre watching his every move.
He’d been five, maybe six, the first time his father had taken him to the Rosbel Group headquarters. As young as he’d been, he’d recognised the respect and deference all the many, many people who worked there had shown him. Xavi remembered how his chest had puffed up with pride that Javier de la Rosa washisfather, and hoped that if his father was watching and looking over him, that he felt an ounce of that same pride.
He would give anything for him to be there to witness his wedding.
Xavi waited until he was being driven home before calling Beth. It disturbed him how he’d had to stop himself calling her numerous times that day. It had been hard enough putting her from his mind to concentrate on his work while she’d been back in England, but knowing she was here, in his city, and with the thrills from their lovemaking still alive in his veins…Dios, he could still hear her laughter as she’d climaxed in the swimming pool.
He’d forgotten how much fun sex with Beth could be. Forgotten how intoxicating that could be.
Putting her from his mind had been close to impossible.
The Xavi of old would have locked his office and video called her.
Just to hear her cheerful, ‘Hi, Xavi,’ was enough to ease the tightness he’d barely been aware of forming in his chest.
‘How are things?’ There was a lot of background noise on her side.
‘Bonkers. I didn’t realise you’d booked the entire hotel for our wedding. My grandmother, who considers more than half a glass of wine with her Sunday dinner as binge drinking, is currently doing shots with Benoît Blanchet.’
‘The creative director of Kovoski?’ Xavi had steered the buyout of the Kovoski brand a year earlier and paid a small fortune to the hugely flamboyant and hugely talented Benoît to extend his contract with them.
‘The one and only… And Gustav Blanc’s just joined their party. Oh, dear. The bar staff are pouring them what looks like flaming sambucas.’
He grinned. He’d only met Beth’s grandmother once, when Beth had impulsively whisked him off to England for a long weekend to meet her family. Her grandmother could have come from the central casting version of what a grandmother should be. To imagine her drinking shots with the temperamental Benoît and the normally ice-cold fashion editor Gustav Blanc was beyond his imagination, which reminded him that Gustav’s birthday party was coming up soon, and being hosted in Madrid. Xavi disliked Gustav, but the man was powerful in the fashion world and needed to be courted. ‘Is everyone else behaving themselves?’
‘Only my father. He’s gone to bed. He’s terrified he’s going to screw up our walk down the aisle and thinks lots of sleep will stop that happening.’
‘And you? What are you doing?’
‘Drinking wine with friends and keeping an eye on my grandmother.’
He came within a whisker of asking if those friends included men. He’d seen the guest list she’d provided and was certain a number of the men on it were men she’d posted pictures of herself drinking with.
Xavi had told Beth he didn’t care about the men she’d been with while they’d been apart, but it had been a lie. He knew he shouldn’t care. Knew he had no right to care. But he did. He always had.
‘How are things your end?’ she asked. The background noise had diminished. He guessed she’d moved somewhere quieter. ‘Finished working yet?’
‘All done and on my way home.’
‘Good. You work too hard.’
‘For the next six days, I belong only to you.’
‘I’m going to hold you to that.’
He laughed. ‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’
‘You won’t be given a choice. I’m not taking any clothes with me on our honeymoon. Only bikinis.’
He groaned softly at the memory of Beth in a bikini. ‘I’m tempted to say let’s skip the wedding and go straight to the honeymoon.’
