‘You realise that you are going to have to agree to be my wife?’ he said commandingly before he leant back in his chair and sighed heavily. ‘Don’t you?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SHE was so amazed by this statement that for a moment all Isabella could do was stare at Leandro blankly as she strove to get her astounded brain to deal with what she’d just heard. Was he joking? There was no smile touching his lips, no humorous glint in his eye. She had to assume he was serious.
‘But I don’t want to get married!’ she said in agitation, rising to her feet.
Leandro kept his features perfectly neutral as he too stood up, but inside his chest his heart had jolted in surprised protest at her point blank refusal of the suggestion he had made. Was it marriage in general she had something against or was the idea of marrying him simply one she could not entertain? For a moment, the latter thought made his blood throb with anger. He didn’t think he’d be overstating the matter if he concluded that most women he met considered him a more than reasonable catch. But not this woman, apparently. When he had discovered yesterday that Isabella had had his baby, his natural inclination had been to make her his wife and that was still Leandro’s goal. He simply would not entertain the idea of his son’s parents living apart from each other whilst he was growing up. Leandro had seen the effects of separation on too many of his friends’ children to be at all enamoured of the idea—no matter what the reasons.
‘We have to think of the child,’ he insisted, grey eyes turning to flint. ‘It is in Raphael’s best interests that he has a mother and father who are together and married, rather than he lives with just one of us alone. Living in England is not an option for me, seeing as most of my film work is in Spain. It is simply not practical that we live together here. The other important consideration is that my family live in Madrid …as I do. When they find out about Raphael they will naturally want him close by so that they can see him regularly.’
‘And what about my family?’
‘You have already more or less indicated that you are not close.’ Shrugging his broad shoulders with arrogant ease, Leandro dismissed Isabella’s comment as being of little to no account. She had a pushy sister, as he recalled, who had insensitively persuaded her against her will—whilst she had been undertaking a quest of her own—to try and find him and gain an interview, and a mother and father who did not sound like the most loving of grandparents that a child could wish for. Parents who could not find it in their hearts to help their daughter with childcare when she was clearly in need hardly deserved consideration as far as he was concerned. He knew his mother, aunts and extended family would feel exactly the same dismay about them as he did. In fact it was quite detestable to Leandro to think of his son in the sphere of such aloof and perhaps cold people.
The spread of crimson on Isabella’s otherwise pale cheeks spoke volumes, but he would not let her discomfort at his frankness sway him. Right now he was more interested in persuading her to concede to his very justified demand that she and Raphael return to Spain with him. And as far as their future relationship was concerned, well …Leandro was absolutely adamant that they had to get married for Raphael’s sake.
‘And besides that—you forget that I have a job here. A job that I really do enjoy,’ she elaborated.
‘And this is the same job that you told me you had become dissatisfied with?’
The sarcasm in his tone deepened Isabella’s blush. ‘I was able to look at it in a more positive light when I returned from Spain!’
‘And so …does it pay good money, this job you are suddenly so eager to stay with?’
‘That’s none of your business!’
‘I beg to disagree. It is very much my business when it concerns my son’s welfare.’
Isabella glared. ‘We do all right …and my grandfather left me this house so at least I have no mortgage to pay. I’ve also been working really hard towards getting a promotion and that means a pay rise, so financially things will be a lot easier for us then.’
‘I am sorry but I cannot say that fills me with confidence, Isabella. If you are struggling to manage on one wage then you are clearly not doing all right! And unless your expected promotion pays you double what you earn already—then in my opinion you will still be struggling to make a decent standard of living. There is simply no good reason for you to remain here in England when you and Raphael can live very comfortably with me in Spain. Besides, do you not realise you will have a job that you really enjoy there too?’
A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, Leandro closed the distance between himself and Isabella—his previous irritation stunningly transformed into a commanding need for intimacy that was so all-pervasive and persuasive that for a moment he completely forgot his impatience with her. Her arresting scent clung to the air with hypnotic sweetness and those disturbingly dark eyes with their lush ebony lashes rendered him more captivated than any acknowledged beauty in the film industry he had ever worked with.
‘You will be able to be at home with Raphael full time, and when you want a break my mother and my aunts will no doubt offer their services. You will not have to juggle both work and childcare like you are doing now and you will have more free time to pursue other interests as well. Speaking of other interests …what about your book? The one you were writing about the Camino? How close are you to finishing it?’
It was hard to formulate an answer to the question when he was standing so near. And Isabella was still trying to come to terms with his stunning suggestion of getting married. This was Leandro Reyes she reminded herself with a powerful sense of shock shooting through her veins—world-renowned film director and much admired by many …This was no simple love affair with a handsome stranger. It had connotations that were both life-changing and far-reaching. She could be laying her whole life open to public scrutiny for one thing …especially if she agreed to marry him. Being a person who liked to safeguard her privacy as much as possible, the very idea of being so exposed was anathema to her. Brushing her hair behind her ear with her fingers, Isabella forced herself to meet the mercurial gaze that so mercilessly dazzled her.
‘I’ve still got quite a way to go. I just haven’t really been able to find the time …I do intend to finish it, though. I think about it often.’
It was true. Isabella also thought about the momentous few weeks she’d walked the Camino trail and what it had meant to her personally. As well as the physical challenge and the profound personal transformation, her senses had been confounded with secret delight by all the sights and sounds she’d been greeted by in that part of Spain. The architecture, the history, the wild landscapes and the amazing people she’d met would be with her for ever. And those people—her fellow peregrinos—had all bar none accepted her just for herself. There had been no judgement and no expectation involved, just simple, uncomplicated companionship and friendship, and it had been such a relief. Coming from the family she did, where conformity to their wishes and expectations was an ever-present challenge, walking the Camino had helped give Isabella back her sense of herself.
Since her return she’d vowed not to relinquish that sense of self to anyone else’s desires ever again. But most of all …most of all she remembered that never-to-be-forgotten meeting with Leandro and the magical evening they had shared that had started out in Señor Varez’s little bar and ended up in a hotel room that was the height of luxury. The still air had bathed them in sultry heat and their only accompaniment had been the music of the rain that had hypnotically glanced against the windows. Together they had turned that night into a spellbinding dream …Meeting Leandro had changed everything for Isabella. Apart from her knowing that she could never give her heart to any other man but him, he had given her her beautiful baby son. Now no one would ever convince her that there was no such thing as divine intervention …
‘Then