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A few minutes later and her heart was racing as hard as her brain.
The entirety of her dressing room was filled with clothes. Expensive clothes. Clothes for all occasions and all seasons. Including underwear. Dear heavens, it wassexyunderwear. Enough to set up her own lingerie shop. Make-up too. And perfumes. Shoes. Boots. Sandals. Everything.
Unable to find the few items she’d brought with her or identify the items she’d chosen for herself, she pulled on the first pair of lace knickers that came to hand and, not bothering with the matching bra, donned a pale yellow summer dress with spaghetti straps, still thinking hard.
Why would Diaz go out of his way to buy all this stuff for her? It made as little sense as toddler-proofing the place.
And why hadn’t he mentioned it?
There was only one way to find out.
But that meant seeking him out, something she really, really didn’t want to do.
She’d seen little of him in recent days and been thankful for it. Two full days working in Madrid meant she’d only been subjected to sharing her evening meals with him, meals conducted with scrupulously polite conversation and intense, watchful green eyes observing her every movement.
It all felt so different from how things had been in Devon since the girls were born, and she knew it wasn’t just becauseshefelt different, as if she’d come back to life.
The blanket that had covered her awareness of Diaz for all those months had lifted in its entirety and she had the awful feeling Diaz knew it and was simply biding his time, and that all the time he’d been spending in Madrid had been an excuse for space away from her until he was ready to make his move.
But make his move for what?
Something was going to happen. At a time of his choosing, the mask Diaz had been wearing since her arrival in Spain was going to be ripped off. She could feel it in her bones. She just wished she knew what that something was so she could arm and protect herself.
She almost hoped the removal of his mask would reveal his old loathing and that he’d start throwing barbed comments at her. At least then she’d know where she stood and could throw her own barbs back at him, a good old screaming row to release some of the tension currently tying her in knots.
Even though she didn’t know whatitwas, it was time to have it out with him, before he left for the two-day trip to Sweden he’d casually mentioned over dinner.
Telling the nannies she wouldn’t be long and planting a kiss on both her daughters’ cheeks, Rose pulled her big girl knickers up and set off to find him.
* * *
After much searching, Rose eventually found Diaz in a shaded seating area by the swimming pool working on his laptop, a pot of coffee and a jug of water on the table close to hand. Clothed in a pair of dark tan cargo shorts and black polo shirt, his face unshaven and his dark brown hair messily styled, he was so undeniably, mouth-wateringly sexy that just to look at him was to make the beats of her heart accelerate and her veins heat and her determined steps falter.
She caught the scrutinising narrowing of his eyes before he said in the pleasant tone she so distrusted, ‘You are looking for me?’
She managed a short nod and stepped closer.
Not even nine a.m. and already the sun was warm, the shade in the form of a heavily flowering, heavenly scented pagoda a welcome relief, a relief countered by having to be that bit nearer to him.
He indicated the seat across from him. ‘Drink?’
Ignoring the gesture and question, she folded her arms across breasts that were inexplicably tingling, and wished she’d put a bra on. ‘How long are you planning for us to stay here?’
He continued to scrutinise her. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Because I want to know and every time I’ve asked, you’ve fobbed me off.’
‘Is there a reason you’re so keen to return to England?’
‘Yes. I want a meeting with my lawyers to discuss the delay to our divorce,’ she stated pointedly. ‘And I notice you still haven’t answered my question.’
His stare became shrewd. Her heart thumped under the weight of it.
She raised her chin and stood as tall as she could. ‘Diaz, what’s going on? Why have you filled my dressing room with enough clothes to last me a lifetime?’
He tilted his head. ‘Are they not to your liking?’
‘That isn’t the point.’