thought the old house perfect. It wore the patina of age and regular use with such comfortable ease, reflecting everything that was cosy and special about the home Doña Anna had made for them both. What right did he have to come storming in, talking about change?
‘The sooner the better,’ he repeated, in what she gathered was his best attempt at a pleasant tone. He failed to charm her.
‘I’m afraid that won’t be possible,’ she stated firmly.
He moved past her, but she caught up with him again. If it was possible for a man to grow taller and become more intimidating, he’d just done that.
‘You can’t keep me away for ever.’ His stern eyes heated every part of her, and, instead of resenting him, she found to her bemusement that she was excited. ‘Or had you forgotten I also own fifty per cent of this island?’ he demanded.
‘I haven’t forgotten anything,’ she said, especially the bizarre terms of Doña Anna’s will. No wonder he was so angry. Those terms had left her flailing for the necessary finance to remain living on the island, and him needing an heir. She might be at her wits’ end, but his buccaneering lifestyle had been cut off at the root. ‘All I’m suggesting is a rain check. When we’ve both calmed down and we’re properly dressed for the occasion, I’d be pleased to show you around.’
Reason had always worked best for Rosie when she had encountered difficult situations at the orphanage. If there was one thing that living in an institution had taught her, it was the basic rules of survival. The most important rule of all was to make no ripples, and if she did, to smooth them over fast.
She shivered involuntarily as Don Xavier’s black stare licked over her. Her almost naked body was eager for more of his attention. Thankfully, she had more sense.
‘My PA will be in touch,’ he said coolly. ‘Once I’ve had a chance to inspect both the island and the hacienda, you will be invited to the mainland for a meeting, where we will discuss terms.’
What terms? When did she agree to this?
His dismissive gesture now suggested that it would be more convenient still if he could brush her under the table along with everything else he found superfluous in his life. She had no intention of going to the mainland for a meeting. His terms? His territory? She might be young, but she wasn’t stupid.
‘I’m not sure that will be convenient for me,’ she said bluntly. ‘And, as far as I’m aware, we have nothing to discuss. The terms of the will are quite clear.’
His expression blackened to a frightening degree. This was a man who wasn’t used to anyone disagreeing with him, she gathered.
‘Are you marooned on the island?’ he thundered.
‘No, but I have a lot on.’
‘Such as?’ he derided. ‘You’ve no funds—no income.’
‘I can accomplish a lot with hard work and no money,’ she argued. ‘And just because I’ve been turned down by lenders to date, doesn’t mean I’m giving up. I don’t think your aunt would give up. And I don’t think Doña Anna would leave me half this island unless she was confident I could sort things out.’
‘Your intention is to help the islanders market their organic produce, I believe?’
He was well informed. ‘Why not?’ She might as well put her stake in the ground now.
Maybe it would be better to soften her attitude and try to engage his support? Her main goal was to help the islanders, not herself, and if she didn’t control her feelings—feelings she usually had no trouble controlling—the next deputation to the island might include Don Xavier’s legal team.
Correct. And she couldn’t risk that. She had no funds to fight him. It was time to swallow her pride and make him feel welcome. Maybe if they worked at it they could find a solution together. She was no good at dressing things up, so she just said the first thing that came into her head. ‘If you come back tomorrow I’ll make you some ice cream.’
The look he gave her suggested she might as well have invited him to join her in a bondage session, complete with whips and masks.
‘Three o’clock tomorrow,’ he rapped. ‘And no ice cream.’
THE FOLLOWING DAY, Rosie’s heart was pounding with anticipation as she waited for Don Xavier to arrive. He might be cold and arrogant, but she was thrilled at the thought of seeing him again. She didn’t have much excitement in her life, but she’d always been a dreamer. And today Don Xavier was playing the starring role. Maybe it was his need for an heir that had stirred her imagination. How was he going to get one? The usual way, obviously—but with whom? He probably had hordes of glamorous girlfriends, but she couldn’t imagine him settling down.
In honour of his visit she was wearing her one good dress. She’d bought it in a thrift shop with the small allowance she’d received from the prince’s charity. The money was supposed to help her to prepare for her first placement. She’d spent most of it on books to help her understand the needs of the elderly, and the rest on ice cream as she worried about whether or not she’d be up to the job.
The dress was yellow, with a floating cotton skirt and fitted top. The colour didn’t do much for her freckled complexion and it clashed with her flaming red hair, but there hadn’t been much choice in her size. It was old-fashioned, but had seemed to Rosie’s untrained eye to be the type of dress that wouldn’t alarm an elderly lady searching for a discreet companion. Predictably, Doña Anna had hated it, calling it Rosie’s custard dress, but Rosie still thought it was pretty and low-key.
She stared out of the kitchen window, wondering if Don Xavier had changed his mind. Maybe his people would arrive instead, and try to drive her away. Her pulse raced with anger at the thought. He’d better come back and face her.
So far the sea was placid blue, and decidedly empty. There was no sleek black launch approaching, and no impossibly good-looking Spanish visitor powering through the waves towards her. But she was ready for whatever came next. She had cleaned the house from top to bottom, and was satisfied that it had never looked better. He couldn’t fail to be impressed. She had always longed for a house of her own to care for, and saw the work as a privilege rather than drudgery. And she would gladly kick her pride into touch if she could persuade him to give her a loan to help the islanders launch their plan to market their produce worldwide.
The more she reflected on this, the more she wondered about Doña Anna’s intentions when she drew up her will. Was this one last attempt to save Don Xavier from his empty, meaningless life? Or was that Rosie being romantic again? In her view, all the money in the world couldn’t buy the love and support of a family, and, if Don Xavier had only known it, Doña Anna had been waiting to welcome him back into her family home with open arms.
Brushing her hair away from her face, Rosie pulled away from the window. It looked as if he wasn’t coming. Her gaze lingered on the flowers she’d cut fresh from the garden that morning... Iceberg roses: pure white and lightly scented. The full, fat blooms thrived in clusters, just like the best families, she mused, smiling at the analogy. Not that she was an expert on either families or roses. The reason she loved the roses was for the way they thrust their scented heads so proudly above the weeds she hadn’t got round to pulling out yet. There were so many things on the island worth preserving.
Isla Del Rey had bewitched Rosie from the moment she’d stepped onshore. She had been instantly dazzled by the island’s beauty. It was so warm and sunny after the dreary cold of the city-centre orphanage where she’d grown up. There were sugar-sand beaches and vibrant colours everywhere, instead of unrelieved grey. And so much space and clean air to breathe. She had left a grimy city behind, and with it the restrictions of the orphanage. On the island, for the very first time in her life, she’d felt free. Best of all, she loved the people for the way they smiled and waved at her, as if they wanted