He remembered the last time he’d done that. He remembered that day all too well. It was the day he’d no longer seen Anna as a friend and little sister. The summer after his first year at university, just a week away from flying back to England, Anna had insisted on taking him out for a picnic she’d packed. A picnic decimated by an unexpected rainstorm. Instead of running for shelter, Anna had kicked off her shoes and jumped in the fast-forming puddles. Antonio had joined her, indulging in one last bit of childhood.
Until she’d spun around, wet hair clinging to her face, a stunning smile on her lips, and white shirt molded to the growing curves of her breasts. The sight of her, followed by the unexpected hard jolt of desire, had turned his world upside down.
His guilt over his sudden lascivious turn of thoughts had set him on the road to destruction, prompted him to borrow Javier’s Bugatti and take the curves of the winding mountain roads too fast on the way to a party he had initially turned down an invite to.
With his other best friend in the passenger seat. A friend who hadn’t even wanted to get out that night.
“I grew up, Anna. It happens to most of us.”
Her shoulders tensed. He swore again. Why was he so on edge with her? What had happened to him, to William, wasn’t her fault. A large part of his goal in offering this arrangement had been to rectify the hurt he’d caused her, not add to it.
“Perhaps you’re right.”
Her soft voice reminded him of a day he’d discovered her talking with her uncle, Diego, who still served the Cabrera family as the butler at their Granada estate. She’d spoken quietly, almost meekly. Usually, when they’d spent time together, it had been just the two of them. He’d started to pay attention more after that, seen how Diego constantly warned her to be careful, set rules even stricter than Javier’s guidelines for Alejandro.
The one person Diego had seemed to trust with Anna had been Antonio. Whether it was because he was the good child or because Isabella had initially encouraged the friendship, who could say. Back then, he’d taken the time Diego had given them and created as much fun as he could for the girl who, at first, had been a curiosity and a reprieve from loneliness. But over time, her sweetness, her growing confidence as she’d not only risen to but taken the reins on their adventures, her acceptance of him without expecting anything in return, had created a friend he hadn’t been able to picture his life without.
And now he was decrying one of the things he’d loved most about spending time with her; her innocent joy.
An apology rose to his lips. His comment had been out of line. He wanted to keep distance between them, yes, but not like this.
But before he could say sorry, she turned slightly and raised her chin. “Although I’d rather still believe in magic and fairy tales than become a stiff shirt who doesn’t know how to have fun.”
He stood frozen to the spot. No one talked to him like that. He took a few more steps until he was standing in front of her, an arm’s reach away.
“Stiff shirt?”
She pinpointed him with gleaming eyes. “Shirt is the appropriate version of what first came to mind. I may be a dreamer, Antonio, but that doesn’t make me stupid.”
He ran a hand through his hair as he let out a frustrated sigh. “I never said you were stupid, Anna.”
“You treating me like a child and making remarks like the one you just did implies enough. If you don’t think that much of me, then why would you propose an idea that required spending time together?”
“I do like you,” he ground out. “You were my best friend for years.”
“Emphasis on ‘were,’” she retorted. Where had this fire come from? Her spirit back then, strong as it was, had been energetic, bright, not this fierceness that blazed forth.
“We haven’t been friends for some time, that’s true.” He stepped forward It was time to take charge of a situation that had spiraled wildly out of control. Another failure in his normally well-planned-out existence. “But we were friends. We can be again, or at least get along while we ride out this arrangement.”
Ridewas the wrong word to use. Because as he took another step closer, smelled the faintt scent of daisies, an image of Anna straddling his hips, her body rising up and down as she took him inside her, nearly knocked him off his feet.
“I don’t know if I want to be friends with someone as priggish as you.”
That stopped him short. “Adrian is priggish. I’m not.”
She watched him for a long moment. With a huff, she started to swing her other leg up onto the railing. His heart jumped into his throat and he surged forward, one arm wrapping around her waist and snatching her back.
“Antonio!”
“That was foolish,” he growled as he spun her away from the edge.
“How?” she cried as she placed both her hands on his chest to steady herself. “I was perfectly balanced, that railing is over a foot wide and there’s a roof right below the railing.”
“A roof that slants down and leads to a drop down a cliff side into the ocean,” he snapped.
Fire snapped in her eyes. “You’re just like mytío. Controlling, overbearing, and suspicious of everyone.”
The comparison ignited his anger. “So I’m like the man who kept you under lock and key? Me, the one who pulled you out of your grief and told you time and time again that you were capable of so much more than you gave yourself credit for?”