‘I love him. Michael is my nephew—’
‘He is not, in fact, related to you by blood at all,’ the Spaniard told her harshly. ‘Miguel was already four years old when his mother married your brother—’
‘His name is Michael!’ she bit out tautly.
‘Look, Miss Sullivan,’ Paul Symmonds cut in smoothly. ‘I did advise you before this meeting today that you really have no choice but to—’
‘Michael is still deeply distraught by the loss of his parents,’ Brynne continued to protest, still upset herself at the death of her older brother and his wife in the car crash that had left Michael orphaned. ‘I’m sure, when he made his ruling, that the judge believed Mr Santiago would use this three-week interim period to get to know Michael, not that he would just—just suddenly turn up on my doorstep and expect to take Michael away with him!’
Alejandro raised his dark brows, impatiently wondering why this woman continued to fight him. She had done so now for the last six weeks since it had been revealed that her nephew, through her brother’s marriage to the boy’s mother, was actually Alejandro’s son from a brief relationship he’d had with Joanna seven years ago.
If Brynne Sullivan thought that revelation had left him unmoved then she was mistaken, he thought grimly.
It had been awful to read in the newspapers of the horrific motorway crash that had killed eight people, including Joanna and her husband, Tom.
But the photograph in the newspaper of Joanna’s son, the little boy who had miraculously survived the collision, and who bore a startling likeness to Alejandro at that age, had been enough to arouse his suspicions as to the boy’s paternity.
He had followed up these suspicions with discreet enquiries about Joanna and Michael, quickly learning that the little boy had been four years old when Joanna had married Tom Sullivan, and that there had never been a father in evidence before that time.
That information had certainly shown that the timing and circumstances seemed right, and together with the child’s clear likeness to himself there was a clear possibility that Miguel could be his son.
Alejandro had flown to England immediately in order to make further enquiries, and then eventually make his legal claim, a claim that had resulted in the judge ordering tests to be taken in order to prove or disprove his paternity.
It had been proved beyond doubt!
But this woman, this Brynne Sullivan, the younger sister of Joanna’s husband, still continued to fight that decision.
By calling him inhuman amongst other things!
He stepped away from the window impatiently. ‘As I have said, this meeting today was a courtesy only, and now it is over.’
‘No, it isn’t,’ Brynne protested firmly.
‘Yes, it most assuredly is,’ Alejandro insisted in measured tones, very near to the end of his patience with this infuriating woman. ‘You will have Miguel’s things packed and ready so that he can leave with me by this time tomorrow—’
‘No, I won’t.’ Brynne gave a firm shake of her head. ‘I can’t let you just take him like this—’
‘I’m afraid you have no choice in the matter, Miss Sullivan,’ Alejandro’s lawyer interjected gently. ‘The law really is on Señor Santiago’s side.’
He received a glittering blue glare for his trouble as Brynne turned to look at him.
Under different circumstances Alejandro would have thought the woman attractive, with her slender figure, long titian-coloured hair, creamy complexion, sparkling blue eyes and air of youthful confidence. But as the only thing that stood between him and his newly recognized son, he instead found her irritating in the extreme!
‘Then the law is an ass!’ she bit out angrily in answer to the lawyer’s remark.
Under different circumstances, Alejandro would also have found her stubborn determination amusing as he recognized in her a will as indomitable as his own.
But the circumstances were not different, and as such Brynne Sullivan was just an irritant he wanted removed. As soon as possible!
His lawyer looked at her pityingly. ‘Whether it’s an ass or not, Miss Sullivan, Señor Santiago’s claim of paternity has been proven and upheld.’
‘He doesn’t love Michael as we do!’ Brynne said as she glared at Alejandro with undisguised dislike. ‘Michael was only four when Joanna and Tom married, and now that they’re dead my parents and I are the only family he has left—’
‘He has grandparents, an uncle and aunt, and two cousins, in Spain,’ Alejandro interrupted derisively.
‘He doesn’t know them any more than he knows you!’ she retorted tartly.
He drew in a deep, controlling breath. ‘Miss Sullivan, you have made the same argument for the last six weeks,’ he cut in impatiently. ‘But as I have already stated, neither you nor your parents are related to Miguel by blood—’
‘You really are a monster, aren’t you?’ Brynne stood up to accuse heatedly. ‘Michael still has nightmares because his mother and the only father he has ever known are now dead. How can you even think about wrenching him away from the people he believes to be his grandparents and his aunt in this callous way?’
‘I am merely taking what is mine,’ Alejandro ground out coldly, still unsure of how he felt towards Joanna for keeping his son’s existence from him all these years.
Admittedly their own relationship had been of short duration, nothing more than a holiday affair, but that didn’t alter the fact that Joanna had to have known Miguel was his son, and had chosen not to tell him.
Brynne glared at him in frustration. She knew that it had been medically proven that Michael was this man’s natural son. She also knew that legally he now had the right to take Michael wherever he wanted.
She had never really stood a chance of keeping Michael, not once Alejandro Santiago proved his claim as the little boy’s father. How could a single woman of twenty-five, a schoolteacher, possibly compete with a man who counted his money in millions of pounds, owned homes all over the world and flew around the world on business in his own private jet? The simple answer was, she couldn’t. But that hadn’t stopped her from trying!
‘I really do not have any more time to waste on this subject,’ the arrogant Spaniard turned to tell the lawyers sharply. ‘I have business commitments in Majorca that I have already neglected the last twenty-four hours—’
‘Heaven forbid ensuring Michael’s future happiness should interrupt your work schedule!’ Brynne snapped scathingly.
Cold grey eyes raked over her dismissively before Alejandro turned back to Paul Symmonds. ‘Now would be a good time for you to once again advise your client to have Miguel ready to leave for Majorca with me when I call for him at her apartment at ten o’clock tomorrow morning,’ he stated briskly. ‘Anything else will result in my bringing further legal action against Miss Sullivan,’ he added grimly.
He would do it too, Brynne acknowledged in defeat as she looked at the implacability of the man’s expression.
It still seemed incredible to her that her beautiful, fun-loving sister-in-law, Joanna, could ever have been involved with a man like Alejandro Santiago. Aged in his mid-thirties, he was just too arrogantly self-assured. Too cold. Too—too immediate, she acknowledged, although she recognized that his height, overlong dark hair and arrogantly chiselled features made him the epitome of tall, dark and handsome.
A fact Brynne, despite her anger and frustration with his claim on Michael, had been all too aware of herself the last six weeks.
Had he been as emotionally aloof seven years ago? Or had something happened during that time to make him this way …?
Not that it mattered;