His Revenge Seduction: The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage / The Konstantos Marriage Demand / For Revenge or Redemption?. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.
of things, Emelia.’
‘What other things did I say?’ she asked.
‘You didn’t want children, for one thing,’ he said. ‘You were adamant about it.’
Her eyes widened. ‘Not want children?’
He nodded. ‘You didn’t want to be tied down.’
She put a hand to her head, as if to check it was still there. ‘I can’t believe I didn’t want kids. That seems so…so selfish.’ She looked at him again. ‘Did you want children?’
‘No, absolutely not,’ he said. ‘Children need a lot of attention. They can be a strain on a strong marriage, let alone one that is suffering some teething problems.’
Her forehead creased again. ‘So we were having some problems?’
Javier carefully considered how to answer. ‘Very few relationships don’t go through some sort of adjustment period. It was hard for both of us initially. I travel a great deal and you were new to my country and my language. In any case, it wasn’t always convenient to take you with me because I like to concentrate on business when I am away. On the few occasions you did come with me, you were bored sitting around waiting for me. Some meetings go on and on until things are sorted out to everyone’s satisfaction.’
‘So I decided to stay at home and play the corporate wife role…’ She chewed her lip again, as if the concept was totally foreign to her.
‘Emelia.’ He took her hand in his again, stroking the back of it with his thumb. ‘It was the way things were between us. It was what we both wanted. You seemed happy with the arrangement when I asked you to marry me. You understood the rules. You were happy to play the game. You slipped into the role as if you were born to it.’
She looked at their joined hands, a sigh escaping from her lips. ‘When I was a little girl I used to wish I could see into the future.’ She looked back up into his gaze. ‘But now I wish I could see into the past.’
He let her hand go and stood up from the bed. ‘Sometimes the past is better left alone,’ he said. ‘It can’t be changed.’
She pulled the sheet up to her chest, her forehead still creased in a frown. ‘Will I see you before you leave tomorrow?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘I am leaving first thing.’ He bent down and brushed his mouth against hers. ‘Buenas noches.’
‘Buenas noches.’ Her voice was a soft whisper that feathered its way down his spine as he left the room.
Aldana was in the kitchen when Emelia came downstairs the next morning. The atmosphere was distinctly chilly but she decided to ignore it. Ignore the bad, praise the good seemed the best way to handle a difficult person, she thought.
‘Good morning, Aldana,’ she said with a bright smile that she hoped didn’t look too forced. ‘It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?’
The housekeeper sent her a reproachful look. ‘I suppose as usual you will turn your nose up at the food I have set out for you?’
Emelia’s smile fell away. ‘Um…actually, I am quite hungry this morning,’ she said. ‘But you shouldn’t have gone to any trouble.’
Aldana made a snorting noise and turned her attention to the bread she was making. ‘I am paid to go to trouble,’ she said. ‘But it is a waste of my time and good food when people refuse to eat it.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve offended you in the past,’ Emelia said after a tense silence. ‘Would it help if I sat down with you and planned the week’s menus? It would save you a lot of trouble and there would be less waste.’
Aldana dusted her hands on her apron in a dismissive fashion. ‘You are not the right wife for Señor Mélendez,’ she said. ‘You do not love him as he deserves to be loved. You just love what he can give you.’
Emelia tried to disguise her shock at the housekeeper’s blunt assessment by keeping her voice cool and controlled. ‘You are entitled to your opinion but my relationship with my husband is no one’s business but my own.’
Aldana gave another snort and turned her back to open the oven, signalling the end of the conversation.
Emelia decided to carry on as if things were normal, even though it troubled her deeply that the housekeeper thought her so unsuitable a wife for Javier. She had always imagined she would make a wonderful wife. After all, she had learned what not to do by watching first her parents’ disastrous and volatile marriage, and then her father’s subsequent ones after her mother had died. She had determined from a young age to marry for love and love only. Money and prestige would hold no sway with her. But now she wondered how closely she had clung to her ideals.
She ate a healthy breakfast of fruit and yogurt and toast and carried a cup of tea out to a sun-drenched terrace overlooking the villa’s gardens.
The scenery was breathtaking and the fresh smell of recently cut grass teased her nostrils. Neatly trimmed box hedges created the more formal aspect of the garden, but beyond she could see colourful herbaceous borders and interesting pathways that led to various fountains or statues.
After she carried her cup back into the kitchen, Emelia went on a tour of the garden. The sun was warm but not overly so and a light breeze carried the delicate scent of late blooming roses to her. She stopped and picked one and, breathing in its fragrance, wondered how many times she had done exactly this. She poked the stem of the rose behind her ear and carried on, stopping at one of the fountains to watch the birds splashing and ruffling their feathers in the water.
The sound of a horse whinnying turned her head. In the distance Emelia could see a youth leading a magnificent looking stallion to what appeared to be a riding arena near the stables a little way from the villa. She walked back through the garden and made her way to where the youth was now lunging the horse on a lead rope. He was a powerful-looking animal with a proud head and flaring nostrils, his tail arched in defiance as his hooves pounded through the sand of the arena.
Emelia stood on the second rail of the fence so she could see over, watching as the stallion went through his paces. Without thinking, she spoke in Spanish to the youth. ‘He’s very temperamental, isn’t he?’
‘Sí, señora,’ the youth answered. ‘Your mare is much better mannered.’
Emelia looked at him blankly. ‘I have a horse of my own?’
The youth looked at her as if she was loca but then he must have recalled what he had been told about her accident. ‘Sí, señora,’ he said with a white toothed smile. ‘She is in the stable. I exercised her earlier this morning.’
‘Could I ride her, please?’ Emelia asked.
He gave her a surprised look. ‘You want to ride her?’
She nodded. ‘Of course I do.’
‘But you have never wanted to ride her before,’ he said with a puzzled frown. ‘You refused to even look at her.’
Emelia laughed off the suggestion. ‘That’s crazy. I love to ride. I had my own horse when my mother was alive. I used to spend every weekend and holidays at Pony Club or on riding camps.’
Pedro shrugged his shoulders as if he wasn’t sure what to make of her as he made his way to the stables.
Emelia jumped down from the railing and followed him. ‘I’m sorry but I’ve forgotten your name,’ she said.
‘Pedro,’ he said. ‘I look after the horses for Señor Mélendez. I have been working for him for two years now. The same time you have been married, sí?’
Emelia gave him a small smile, not sure how much he knew of her situation. The stallion snorted and pawed the ground and she stepped up to him and stroked his proud forehead. ‘You are being a great big show-off, do you know that?’ she crooned softly.