Trinity replied as butterflies jumped around her belly. ‘Yes, sweetie. He’s your uncle, remember...?’
‘Unk-el...’ Matty repeated carefully, as if testing out the word.
Trinity delayed as much as she dared, making sure the boys were strapped securely into their high chairs, but then she had to leave.
Mrs Jordan handed her a tray containing the tea and coffee, and looked at her expressively. ‘I’m sure he’ll do what’s right for the boys and you, dear. Don’t worry.’
Trinity felt shame curl through her as she walked to the drawing room with the tray. She’d been too cowardly to tell Mrs Jordan the truth of Cruz’s opinion of her. The woman believed that he only wanted custody of his nephews because he was their last remaining blood relative.
Stopping at the door for a second, she took a breath and wondered if she should have worn something smarter than jeans and a plain long-sleeved jumper. But it was too late. She balanced the tray on her raised knee, then opened the door and went in. Her heart thumped as she saw Cruz, with his overcoat off, standing at the main window that looked out over the opulent gardens at the back of the house.
She avoided looking at him and went over to where a low table sat between two couches. She put the tray down and glanced up. ‘Coffee, wasn’t it?’
Cruz came and sat down on the couch opposite hers. ‘Yes.’
No please. No niceties.
Trinity was very aware of how the fabric of his trousers pulled taut over his powerful thighs. She handed over the coffee in a cup, grateful that this time her hands were fairly steady. She sipped at her own tea, as if that might fortify her, and wished it was something slightly stronger.
After a strained moment Trinity knew she couldn’t avoid him for ever. She looked at him and blurted out, ‘Why are you doing this now? If you’re so sure I’m...what you say I am...why didn’t you just step in after Rio’s death?’
Cruz took a lazy sip of his coffee and put the cup down, for all the world as if this was a cordial visit. He looked at her. ‘I, unlike you, grieved my brother’s death—’
‘That’s not fair,’ Trinity breathed.
Okay, so Rio had made her angry—especially at the end—and theirs hadn’t been a real marriage, but she had felt a certain kinship with him. They hadn’t been so different, as he’d told her—both abandoned by their parents. But then he’d betrayed her trust and her loyalty.
Cruz continued as if she’d said nothing. ‘Once the state of Rio’s finances became apparent, there was a lot of fire-fighting to be done. Deals he’d been involved in had to be tied up. I had to search for his mother to let her know what had happened—’
‘Did you find her?’ Trinity’s heart squeezed as she thought of the impossible dream she never let herself indulge in: that some day she’d find her mother.
Cruz shook his head. ‘No—and yes. She died some years ago, of a drug overdose.’
‘Oh,’ she said, feeling sad.
‘I knew when the reading of the will would be taking place, and I wanted to see your face when you realised that there was nothing for you. And I’d been keeping an eye on you, so I knew what you were up to and how my nephews were.’
Trinity gasped. ‘You had us followed?’
Cruz shrugged minutely. ‘I couldn’t be sure you wouldn’t try to disappear. And you’re the very public widow of a man most people still believe was a millionaire, with two small vulnerable children in your care. It was for your protection as much as my surveillance.’
Before she could fully absorb that, he went on, with palpable impatience.
‘Look, I really don’t have time for small talk, Trinity. Tell me how much you want so that I can get on with making the necessary arrangements to have my custody of my nephews legalised.’
His words were like a red rag to a bull—having it confirmed that he’d just been biding his time. That she’d never really registered on his radar as anyone worth giving the benefit of the doubt to.
She put her cup down with a clatter on the tray and glared at him. ‘How dare you? Do you really think it’s that simple? They are not pawns, Cruz. They are two small human beings who depend on structure and routine, who have lost both their parents at a very vulnerable age. Mrs Jordan and I are the most consistent people in their lives and you want to rip them away from that?’
She stood up then, too agitated to keep sitting down. Cruz stood too, and Trinity immediately felt intimidated.
He bit out, ‘I want to take them away from a malignant influence. You. Are you seriously telling me you’re prepared to go up against me? You know what’ll happen if you do. You’ll lose.’
‘No!’ Trinity cried passionately. ‘The twins will lose. Do you know they’ve only just stopped asking for their papa every night? Because that’s usually when he came to see them, to say goodnight. Their world has been turned upside down and you want to do it again. Who will be their primary carer? Don’t tell me it’s going to be you.’ Trinity would never normally be so blunt or so cruel, but she felt desperate. ‘Have you noticed how they look at you? They’re intimidated by you. They hardly know who you are.’
Clearly unaccustomed to having anyone speak to him like this, Cruz flashed his eyes in disapproval. ‘If anyone has been these boys’ primary carer, I’d wager it’s been Mrs Jordan. There’s no reason why she can’t remain as their nanny. But you have no claim on these boys beyond the legal guardianship you seduced out of Rio in a bid to protect your own future.’
Trinity’s hands balled into fists. Her nails cut into her palms but she barely noticed. She wondered how she’d ever felt remotely tender about this man. ‘That is not true. I love these boys as if they were my own.’
Cruz let out a curt laugh. ‘I know that’s not true.’
His smile faded, and his face became sterner than she’d ever seen it.
‘And do you know why? Because Rio and I both learned that the people who are meant to love you the most don’t. There’s no such thing as an unbreakable bond.’
The fire left Trinity’s belly. She felt shaky after the rush of adrenalin. Rio had told her about the way he’d been treated like an unwelcome guest in his own father’s home. How his mother had abandoned him. It had played on all her sympathies. Now she wondered about Cruz’s experience, and hated herself for this evidence that he still got to her.
‘Not all parents were like yours or Rio’s.’
Cruz arched a brow. ‘And you know this from personal experience, when you grew up in a series of foster homes? Your experience wasn’t too far removed from ours, was it, Trinity? So tell me how you know something I don’t.’
Trinity went very still. ‘How do you know that?’
He watched her assessingly. ‘I run background checks on all my staff.’ His lip curled. ‘To think I actually felt some admiration for you—abandoned by your parents, brought up in care, but clearly ambitious and determined to make something of yourself. I seriously underestimated how little you were actually prepared to work to that end.’
The unfairness of his assessment winded her when she thought of the back-breaking work she’d done, first as a chambermaid in a hotel, then as a maid in his house, before becoming nanny to two demanding babies. And then Rio’s wife.
Feeling seriously vulnerable upon finding out that Cruz had known about her past all this time and had mentioned it so casually, she said, ‘My experience has nothing to do with this.’
Liar, said a voice. It did, but not in the way Cruz believed.