Scathingly, Cruz said, ‘So you’re not above using my nephews as an excuse?’
Hurt that he should think her capable of such a thing she said, ‘Their welfare comes first, so I don’t really care what you think.’
Cruz’s jaw clenched, and then he just said, ‘Seven p.m., Trinity. Be ready.’ And then he turned and walked away.
To her shame she couldn’t stop her gaze from dropping down his broad back to where his worn jeans showed off his powerful buttocks. Disgusted with herself, she whirled around and went over to the boys who, she had to admit, would look fine to most observers but not to her, who knew all their little habits and foibles.
Something wasn’t quite right and she wasn’t going to let Cruz bully her.
* * *
Later that evening Cruz’s blood was boiling. No one had ever stood him up. Certainly not a woman. But Trinity had. Julia, looking terrified—was he really that scary?—had come with a note when he’d been waiting for Trinity in the hall.
Sorry, Cruz, but I’m just not certain the boys aren’t coming down with something. I’m not coming. T.
The note was crumpled in his palm now, as he strode along the dark corridors to the wing Trinity and the boys occupied. Something about the oppressiveness of the castillo scraped along his nerves, when it never really had before. It was as if having Trinity and the boys here was throwing everything into sharp relief...
When he was near the boys’ bedroom he could hear fractious cries and Trinity’s tones, soothing. He stopped in the doorway to see her changing a clearly cranky Sancho into his pyjamas.
Mateo was running around in his nappy. As soon as he saw Cruz he sped over. ‘Come play, Unkel Cooz!’
Cruz’s chest felt tight. He bent down. ‘Not now, chiquito. Tomorrow.’
He put his hand to Mateo’s head and it felt warm. He looked up to see Trinity standing in front of him, still wearing the jeans and shirt she’d had on earlier. She really wasn’t coming.
He straightened up and a determined expression came over her face. ‘I meant it, Cruz, I’m worried about the boys. They’ve been off their
food all day and they’re both running slight temperatures. They also didn’t nap today, so they’re overtired now. It’s probably nothing serious, but I’m not leaving them. I’ve given Mrs Jordan the evening off so she can take over in the morning.’
Cruz was slightly stunned yet again to think that she wasn’t even their mother. Right now, with the boys in the room behind her, he had the distinct impression of a mother bear guarding her cubs from danger. He couldn’t figure out what she could possibly be gaining from this if she was playing some game.
To his surprise something dark gripped his gut, and it took him a moment to acknowledge uncomfortably that it was jealousy—and something else...something more ambiguous that went deeper.
Jealousy of his nephews, who were being afforded such care and protection—the kind of protection he’d vowed to give them but which now he realised he was too woefully inexperienced to give.
The something deeper was a sharp sense of poignancy that his own mother had never cared for him like this. Dios, even his nanny hadn’t shown this much concern.
Feeling very uncharacteristically at a momentary loss, he recognised that for the first time in his life he would have to back down.
‘Call me if they get worse, or if you need anything. Maria the housekeeper has the number of my doctor.’
Trinity nodded, shocked that Cruz was conceding. She’d half expected him to insist on dressing her himself and dragging her out of the castillo.
He stepped away and said, ‘I’ll check on you when I get back.’
The thought of him coming in later, with his bow tie undone and looking far too sexy, made her say quickly, ‘There’s no—’
He looked at her warningly. ‘I’ll check on you.’
‘Okay.’
For a moment something seemed to shimmer between them—something fragile. Then Cruz turned and left and she breathed out an unsteady breath. She turned around to focus on the boys and told herself that she’d just been imagining that moment of softening between them. Wishful thinking.
* * *
When Cruz returned later that night he went straight to the boys’ room, where a low light leaked from under the door. He ruminated that he hadn’t enjoyed one minute of the function—not that he usually did, because he considered these events work—and he realised now with some irritation that he’d missed having Trinity at his side. Seeing her reaction to everything. Having her close enough to touch.
He opened the door softly and stepped in. His eyes immediately tracked to the two small figures in their beds and he went over, finding himself pulling their covers back over their bodies from where they’d kicked them off. Something turned over in his chest at seeing them sprawled across their beds, dark lashes long on plump cheeks, hair tousled. They looked so innocent, defenceless. Once again he was overcome with a sense of protectiveness.