She was back in time, caught in the glare of those mesmerising eyes, his brows drawn into a frown of impatience. His Spanish accent had been barely noticeable, just the slightest intriguing inflection. She’d felt light-headed, even though she was sitting down.
‘I’m sorry...what?’
Those eyes had flashed with irritation. ‘I asked how old you are?’
She’d swallowed. ‘I’m twenty-two. Since last week.’
Then she’d felt silly for mentioning that detail—as if one of the richest men in the world cared when her birthday was! Not that she even knew when her birthday was for sure...
But she’d survived four rounds of intense interviews to be there to meet the man himself—evidence of how he oversaw every tiny detail of his life—so Trinity had gathered her fraying wits, drawn her shoulders back and reminded herself that she had hopes and dreams, and that if she got this job she’d be well on her way to achieving a life for herself...
‘I have to hand it to you—you’re as good an actress as you were three months ago when you first feigned ignorance of Rio’s financial situation. But you must have known what was coming down the tracks. After all, you helped divest my brother of a small fortune.’
The past and present meshed for a moment, and then Trinity realised what Cruz had just said.
She clasped her hands tight together on her lap. ‘But I didn’t know.’
‘Did the accident affect your memory, Trinity?’ His voice held more than a note of disdain. ‘Do you not recall that illuminating conversation we had befo
re you left my house on that fateful night?’
She flushed, remembering it all too well. ‘I don’t have any memory of the accident, but, yes, I do recall what you said to me. You’re referring to your accusation that I was responsible for Rio’s financial problems.’
Cruz’s mouth compressed. ‘I think ruin would be a more accurate word.’
Trinity stood up, too agitated to stay seated. ‘You’re wrong. It’s true that Rio spent money on me, yes, but it was for the purposes of—’
Cruz held up a hand, a distinct sneer on his face now. ‘Spare me the details. I looked into Rio’s accounts after he died. I know all about the personal stylist, the VIP seats to every fashion show, the haute couture dresses, private jet travel, the best hotels in the world... The list is endless. I curse the day that I hired you to work for me—because, believe me, I blame myself as much as you for ruining my brother.’
At that damning pronouncement Trinity felt something deep inside her shrivel up to protect itself. She had not been prepared for Cruz’s vitriolic attack.
But then, this was the man who had wiped her taste off his mouth and looked at her with disgust when he’d realised that he’d lowered himself to the level of kissing his own maid.
Trinity bitterly recalled the intimate dinner party he’d hosted the following evening—when the gaping chasm between them had been all too apparent.
Cruz had welcomed a tall and stunningly beautiful brunette, kissing her warmly on both cheeks. As the woman had passed her fur coat to Trinity, not even glancing in her direction, Trinity had caught an expressive look from Cruz that had spoken volumes—telling her to forget what had happened. Telling her that this woman was the kind of woman he consorted with, and whatever had happened between them must be consigned to some sordid memory box, never to be taken out and examined again.
That was when she’d been unable to hold her emotions in, utterly ashamed that she’d let her crush grow to such gargantuan proportions that she’d let him actually hurt her. And that was when Rio, Cruz’s half-brother, who had also been a guest that night, had found her outside, in a hidden corner of the garden, weeping pathetically.
He’d come outside to smoke and had sat down beside her, telling her to relax when she’d tried to rush back inside, mortified. And somehow...she still wasn’t sure how...he’d managed to get her to open up, to reveal what had happened. She hadn’t told him of her burgeoning feelings for Cruz, but she probably hadn’t had to. It must have been emblazoned all over her tearstained face.
‘Tell me what your price is for signing away your guardianship of my nephews?’
Trinity blinked and the painful memory faded.
As she focused on his words she went cold all over. ‘What did you just say?’
Cruz snapped his fingers, displeasure oozing from his tall, hard body. ‘You heard me—how much will it take, Trinity, for you to get out of my nephews’ lives, because I don’t doubt you have a price.’
Horror curdled her insides at the thought of being removed from Mateo and Sancho. Only that morning Sancho had thrown his arms around her and said, ‘I love you, Mummy...’
She shook her head now, something much hotter replacing the horror. ‘There is no price you could pay me to leave the boys.’
‘I am their blood relation.’
‘You’ve only met them a handful of times!’
Cruz snorted. ‘Are you trying to tell me that you could care for them more than their own flesh and blood? You’ve just been using them as a meal ticket. And now that Rio’s left nothing behind they’re your only hope of keeping your nest feathered—presumably by extorting money out of me.’