A Price Worth Paying(7)
He should never have let her in. Felipe should never have sent her. What had the old man been thinking, to send her to plead his case? Had he been hoping he’d feel sorry for her and agree to whatever she asked? A coiling anger unfurled inside him that anyone, let alone his father’s old nemesis, would think him so easily manipulated.
‘So that’s why he sent you, then? To ask for it back?’
Maybe his words sounded more like accusations than questions, maybe he sounded more combative than inquisitive, because she flinched, her face tight, her eyes clearly on the defensive. ‘Felipe didn’t send me. He doesn’t even know I’m here.’ She hesitated before saying anything more, before she glanced at the watch on her slim wrist and looked up again, already gathering herself, her face suddenly resolute, as if she’d decided something. ‘Look, maybe I should go—’
He stalled her preparations to leave with a shrivelling glare. ‘You do realise it wasn’t me who gambled the property out from underneath him, don’t you? I bought it fair and square. And I paid a hefty premium for the privilege.’
‘I know that.’
‘Then surely you don’t expect me to hand it calmly back, no matter how ill you say your grandfather is.’
Her blue eyes flashed icicles, her manner changing as swiftly as if someone had flicked a switch. ‘Do you think I’m that stupid? I may be a stranger here, but Felipe has told me enough about the Esquivels to know that would never happen.’
He bristled at her emphasis on the word ‘never’. It was true, Felipe and his father had had their differences in the past, and yes, the Esquivels took their business seriously, but that did not mean they did not act without honour. They were Basques after all. ‘Then why did you come? Is it money you want?’
She gave a toss of her head, setting her ponytail lurching from side to side, the ends she’d poked behind her ears swinging free once more. ‘I don’t want your money. I don’t care about your money.’
‘So why are you here? What other reason could you possibly have for turning up on my doorstep demanding a private hearing?’
She stood up then, all five feet nothing of her, but with her dark eyes flashing, her jaw set in a flushed face and an attitude that spoke more of bottled rage than the meek little mouse who had turned up on his doorstep.
‘All right. Since you really want to know, I came here to ask if you would marry me.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘MARRY YOU?’ HE didn’t wait for her to say any more. He’d heard enough. He laughed out loud, the sound reverberating around the room. He’d known she’d wanted something—land or money—and she had wanted something, but a proposal of marriage had never been on his radar. ‘You’re seriously proposing marriage?’
‘I know.’ His visitor clenched and unclenched her hands by her sides, her eyes frosty and hard with anger, her features set as if she didn’t hold it all together, she would explode. ‘Crazy idea. Forget I said anything. Clearly I was wrong to think you might lift so much as a finger to help my grandfather. Sorry to bother you. I’ll see myself out.’
She wheeled around, her skirt flaring high as she spun to reveal legs more shapely than he would have imagined she possessed before they marched her purposefully towards the door, her words rankling more with each stride. How dare she come out with a crazy proposal like that and then make out that he’d let her down?
He caught up with her as she pulled the door open, slamming it shut the next second with the flat of his hand over her shoulder. ‘I don’t remember you asking me to lift a finger.’ She wasn’t listening. Either that or she simply took no notice. She worked the handle frantically with both hands, her slim body straining as she pulled with all her might, while the door refused to budge so much as an inch with his weight to keep it closed.
‘Let me out!’
He stayed right where he was, with the tiny fury beneath him working away on the door, bracing herself against the wall for leverage. ‘On the other hand, I do recall you asking me to marry you.’
‘It was a mistake,’ she said, frantic and half breathless from her efforts.
‘What, you mean you meant to ask someone else?’
She gave up on the handle, staring at the door as if willing it to disappear with the sheer force of her will. ‘I thought you might help. Turns out I was wrong.’
‘And so now you make out that I’ve somehow let you down? Because I’m honest and laugh when you suggest something as ridiculous as marrying you?’