He gave a strangled laugh. “He’s dead.”
“What?”
His expression was pale and strange. “He died two days ago.”
“I’m sorry,” Belle whispered. Her wedding dress dropped unheeded to the floor as she went to him. Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him, offering comfort, not caring that she was wearing only the bra and panties and that it was bad luck. “What happened?”
“Otilio had a heart
attack and crashed his car. It’s just lucky no one else was hurt.”
“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her eyes filling with tears. “Even though you never met, and your relationship was complicated, he was still your brother and...”
“The funeral is tomorrow morning in Madrid.”
Belle sucked in her breath. “You’ll miss it. You...”
Then he met her eyes, and she suddenly knew.
“You’re not going to miss it,” she said slowly. “You’re going to Madrid.”
Santiago gave a single short nod. “I’m leaving immediately.”
“But our wedding...” she whispered.
“I’ve already had my executive assistant start making calls. I’m sorry, Belle. Our wedding must be temporarily put off.”
Belle had just been arguing that they were family, but now she said in a small voice, “But you don’t even know them.”
“My father needs me.”
“He called you?”
His jaw tightened. “No. It was my brother’s widow who called. She asked me to come, for my father’s sake.”
“Your brother’s...” It took several seconds for this to sink in, and then Belle staggered back a step.
His brother’s widow.
His widow.
The only woman Santiago had ever loved was free now.
Single.
What must the woman be like, since Santiago had spent years trying to win her love? Beautiful, chic, witty, powerful, sexy, glamorous? All of the above?
How could Belle compare with that?
She couldn’t.
She felt sick inside.
“Belle?”
“Um.” She tried to gather her thoughts. “It must have been...strange to talk to her again, after all these years.”
“It was,” he said in a low voice. “She said my father wants to see me. He has no one else now. His wife died years ago. Otilio and Nadia never had any children. I’m the last Zoya.”