Cristina couldn’t speak. Her mouth wouldn’t open and there was a hard lump in her throat that seemed to be stopping the words from coming out. But she couldn’t just say nothing.
‘I’m so sorry, Luis.’
Her words sounded trite, but Luis didn’t even seem to hear them.
‘If I’d been more careful—’
‘But you didn’t know—’
‘No, because I was too drunk and too busy thinking what a man I was.’
‘You’re not like that.’
Her hands clenched together as she remembered him drinking water at his mother’s birthday dinner. It wasn’t just champagne or wine he didn’t drink. It was all alcohol.
‘You can’t blame yourself.’
He looked at her then, his eyes unfocused and dull with pain. ‘But I am to blame. And that’s why I have to live in California. I can’t live in Spain and not take over the bank. That was Bas’s birthright and I took it away from him. I took him away from my parents and I don’t deserve their love.’
‘Yes, you do.’ She took a step closer. ‘You made a mistake, and nobody gets through life without making mistakes. What happened to Bas was a terrible, tragic accident, but you can’t keep punishing yourself for being young and naive.’
She hesitated.
‘Sometimes it’s easier to judge yourself harshly than to look at the bigger picture. But turning in on yourself doesn’t solve anything. It just damages everyone around you.’ Her heart contracted as she pictured her mother’s anxious face. ‘And if they’re around you it’s because they care.’
Luis stared at her in silence. After their initial shock at his story most people would surely be wrapped up in their own dismay or disgust. But Cristina seemed to care about him and his feelings—not hers.
‘None of us can change the past. It won’t matter how unhappy you make yourself, or how much you think you deserve to feel unhappy, you can’t bring your brother back.’
Reaching out, she took his hand.
‘You taking over the bank would not be disrespectful to your brother’s memory. It would just be you taking care of your parents. Being their son—the son you were before Bas died, and the son you will always be.’
She knew she was right, but she’d been wrong about almost everything else. Luis was nothing like her father—a man who had never taken responsibility for his actions, let alone acknowledged them. He had not only accepted the blame for Bas’s death he had punished himself for it, even going so far as to exile himself from his homeland and his parents.
She felt his fingers tighten around hers.
‘I miss him so much…’
‘I know. But forgiving yourself doesn’t mean forgetting Bas. Your parents love you, Luis, and they need you. So you need to forgive yourself and come back home.’
Luis nodded, and then, leaning forward, he cupped her chin in his hand and tilted her face upwards. ‘Were you always this smart?’
She smiled. ‘Of course. Hadn’t you noticed?’
Yesterday he had pushed her away, but now, with her warm body so close to his, it was hard to remember exactly why he’d felt he should do that. Her eyes were soft and light and, feeling his heart start to beat faster, he shook his head.
‘I guess I was distracted.’
‘By what?’
Her voice was shaking slightly, and he could see the pulse twitching at the base of his throat.
‘By this,’ he whispered and, lowering his mouth to hers, he kissed her.
Behind them the waves splashed against the sand, as he slowly wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss. Still kissing, they stripped each other naked, and then they slid down onto their discarded clothes.
His fingers were slipping over her bare skin, their touch light and yet electric, and his mouth was warm and hungry against her lips. His body felt hollow with desire as she pulled him closer, curling her hand around the curve of his neck, their clothes twisting beneath them as she turned her face into the hard muscles of his chest.