But he didn’t want that from her, did he? That was everything he wasn’t offering.
CHAPTER TEN
EVEN THOUGH SHE’D accepted his invitation, Javier couldn’t relax. There was a fleeting quality that made him uneasy—it wasn’t just the too rapid sliding of their days on board. It was that the promise they’d made to liberate themselves of this damn chemistry couldn’t be fulfilled. Because it wasn’t easing. Not yet. So much for the ‘downhill slide’ she’d predicted. And worse, he had the growing apprehension that Emmy
herself was like a mirage—a sylph who’d disappear if he turned his back too long and he’d be left again with this damned raging ache for her. And that if he went alone tonight, he couldn’t quite trust she and Luke would still be here when he returned. He hated feeling as if something were about to slip through his fingers.
Because he’d felt it before. He’d come downstairs and the most important person in his life had been missing, never to return. And then he’d been tipped out of his home himself. And he hated even suspecting that he was at risk of something like that happening again.
It was because of Luke, wasn’t it? The baby was so vulnerable and so precious...
But he assured himself Emmy wouldn’t take him away. Not now he understood her a little more. She thought she needed to be needed and that she needed to earn her place—her respect—in people’s lives. To earn her place in the world—all those years doing voluntary work? Was she trying to make up for her family’s failings? Of course, it was far more complicated than that, but he knew her desire to work so hard for Connie was part of it. The same with Lucero. She’d poured everything into doing the best she could for both of them. And then in being the best mother possible to Luke—even when alone and exhausted. She tried to do her best. So she wasn’t about to take her son from what Javier could give him.
But Javier didn’t want her to do that with him. To work super hard at being the best possible...what? Lover?
She already was that. She didn’t need to prove anything to him. And the last thing he wanted was for her to be with him out of any sense of obligation. He wanted her with him that way only because she wanted to be—only because she still felt that chemistry the way he did. Because that was all this was and he could still control it, couldn’t he? He could spend the day locked in his office, taking time only to see Luke and not needing to set eyes on Emmy for hours. Surely he could do that.
* * *
Emmy smoothed the skirt of her dress, appreciating the silk beneath her fingers. It was her first evening out in eons. A snippet of her own time to act like an adult, not a maid, not a mother—but a woman. A whole person—one who’d even had the leisure time to be pampered beforehand to dress up. A beautician had been flown on board and it turned out there was a spa room below deck with a massage table and sauna and she’d very much enjoyed those facilities today.
Her lips felt slick from the rub of colour and her hair was completely loose for once, the curls enhanced—she didn’t know how the stylist had worked her magic, but they weren’t the usual tumbling tangle of strawberry red, they were actually ringlets.
But suddenly she was nervous. She’d not seen Javier for what felt like years. He’d been in the office, the door sealed shut for hours and now she wondered if she was suitably dressed for this wretched event.
‘I can’t believe there’s a massage and treatment room on board the yacht,’ she said dryly to cover her nerves as she walked to where he was waiting.
Javier gaped at her—from her hair, to her eyes, her mouth, her breasts and the flare of her hips, then he visibly hauled his wits together. ‘You should definitely wear that dress again,’ his voice rasped. ‘Like, all the time.’
Yes? Well, he ought to wear suits that sharply tailored as well. She stared at him, drinking in his strong frame, and all that sensual awareness rose and tightened to the point where she couldn’t breathe. So much for the chemistry fading.
‘If we’re going to get there at all, we’d better leave now.’ Javier swiftly turned on his heel.
But Emmy’s nerves fluttered as she strapped herself into the helicopter. She’d never left Luke for more than an hour. And to be flying away and leaving him on a boat in the middle of the sea?
‘Stop fretting, he’ll be fine,’ Javier murmured.
‘I know he’ll be fine. It’s whether I’ll be fine.’
‘I’ll do my best to distract you this evening.’
‘I thought my mission was to meet new people and make new friends,’ she teased archly.
‘We can meet people together.’ He sent her a dark glance that dipped again to her creamy cleavage.
Was that a possessive moment from him? She laughed but she felt it too. In fact she didn’t want him talking alone to any other woman. Ever.
As the helicopter ascended, she stared down at the superyacht growing more distant by the second.
‘Don’t worry.’ He took hold of her hand. ‘We’ll fly back for the night. It’s only a couple of hours that we’re away.’
She laced her fingers through his and squeezed, appreciating that reassurance. ‘Thank you.’
He didn’t release her hand for the entire flight. He held it again as he walked with her into the banquet hall where the reception was being held. And he was open about their relationship the moment they met the chair of the gala committee on the receiving line.
‘Emmy’s the mother of my son.’
That was her status. Not his girlfriend. Never to be his wife, but the mother of his son. She knew he meant it respectfully but somehow it hurt, the words wearing a little hole in her heart—the fabric unravelling bit by bit, getting wider with every repetition as he introduced her to other guests. Yet she was proud to be Luke’s mother and funnily enough she found she didn’t mind the resultant staring of some of the guests. It was refreshing to be somewhere different and she’d dealt with all sorts in her travels. There was little she hadn’t encountered and she could manage small talk. All that was involved was asking questions.
In the large reception room she noticed stunning pictures on the walls, promoting the Galapagos. Some of the images were outstanding. Halfway down the length of the vast room, she paused as she caught a glimpse of a familiar smile. That was the picture of Javier, Luke and the tortoise. Her picture—massively enlarged and looking gorgeous in the centre of the room.
‘I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be a good one to use,’ Javier murmured.
As she stared up at it, she noticed a small logo had been added to the bottom left of the print. Emerald.
‘Do you mind?’ he added after a moment.
‘Of course not, it looks amazing.’ She was bowled over. ‘Thanks for the credit.’
‘You deserve it. I’ve actually been approached by a couple of people who want to buy the rights to it.’
‘Seriously?’ Emmy was amazed. People were offering money to use her photo?
‘Do you mind giving me exclusive rights, though?’ He turned to face her. ‘You’ll be recompensed accordingly.’
‘You’re in the picture, Javier.’ She laughed as she shook her head. ‘And it’s a holiday snap, I don’t need anything for it.’
‘Wrong answer,’ he murmured. ‘You really need to learn your value, Emmy.’
As they mingled, other guests commented once they learned she’d taken the shot that had become the favourite of the display.
‘We have a lot of stunning shots taken on the islands, but that was an extraordinary moment to capture,’ one woman said to her.
‘I was very lucky.’ Feeling a fraud, she smiled. ‘Of course, it helps that I’m completely in love with my subject.’ Emmy glanced again at the photo. The two males were in such sharp focus—one very young, one very virile. But both had her heart.
Her smile slipped as she realised the true extent of her vulnerability. They really did have her. She cared about Javier in a way he didn’t and wouldn’t ever want. Knowing something of his background, she understood why. His parents had been unhappy and she guessed he’d had a desperately insecure childhood, being sent away. He didn’t trust people any more than she did, but then they differed: while she’d focused on building her tiny surprise family—of Luke—he’d focused on building his life through his work. And he was still focused on that, wasn’t he? He didn’t want more. He still retreated behind those walls when conversations veered fractionally too close to the
personal, or distracted her with a joke or a kiss... He’d told her the merest of details and clearly had no intention of delving deeper or opening up to her more. But she wanted. So. Much. More.
So how on earth was she going to survive the next eighteen months? How was she to live the rest of her life connected and close to Javier, but not in the way she truly wanted?
‘I’d love to be in a photo like that,’ the woman continued. ‘Most of us would.’
Emmy smiled. ‘Yes, I took lots of pictures for passing tourists when I was out on the beaches.’
‘No reason why you shouldn’t get paid for that,’ Javier chimed in softly.
‘For doing someone a favour?’ She turned and laughed at him.
‘No, for giving someone a stunning piece of art.’ He contemplated her seriously. ‘When our hotel opens, lots of our guests would like beautiful pictures of them on the islands. You could take them.’
She paused. Had he said our hotel?
‘You have talent,’ he said, and she recognised he was going into his sell mode. ‘You have skills and you have the interest and passion to develop those skills further. Why wouldn’t you?’
Yes, Emmy wanted a job and for it to be something she could be proud of. But she didn’t want to work for Javier. She needed independence—now more than ever. And she definitely didn’t want to benefit from nepotism or charity.
‘Emerald,’ he said with soft warning and that suffering but amused look in his eyes as he watched the thoughts cross her face. ‘You don’t like people jumping to conclusions about you, yet you do it to me all the time...’
She paused and gave him a rueful smile. ‘But you don’t really need a photographer—’