Latin Lovers: Passionate Spaniards: The Spaniard's Marriage Demand / Kept by the Spanish Billionaire / The Spanish Doctor's Convenient Bride

How could she tell him that she was wary of his intentions because she didn’t think he loved her? If the thought had not even crossed his mind, why would it mean anything to him if she voiced it? Swallowing back her tears, Isabella wearily pushed her fingers through her hair.

‘I’m suddenly feeling quite tired. I think I’ll go and lie down for a while.’

‘That is your prerogative, of course, but do not think to divert the issue by doing so! I fully expect us to share a bed together tonight so you had better get used to the idea! While you are resting I intend to make some phone calls and catch up with some work. My housekeeper has left food in the kitchen for us when we are hungry so you must help yourself whenever that may be. Do not wait for me; I will see to myself when I am ready.’ He paused, his glance hovering for a long unsettling moment on Isabella’s mouth. ‘The run of the house is yours. You must feel free to look around as much as you want to familiarise yourself where everything is. I will join you in our room later …that is a promise.’ Leandro regretfully started to withdraw, feeling undeniable frustration that again there was such dissension between them. It did not bode well for the start of their renewed relationship.

‘Leandro?’

‘What is it?’

‘What will I do tomorrow when you leave to go to work for the day?’ Still smarting with indignation from his dictatorial attitude towards her, Isabella crossed her arms in front of her chest.

‘You may do whatever you please, Isabella. Why not work on your book? There is of course a car at your disposal for when you want to go out …I will leave it out on the drive and the keys are on the dressing table in our room. There is also a map in the glove compartment so you cannot get lost. However, I would ask you to wait in a little while before you venture out because my mother, Constanza, is paying you and Raphael a visit first thing in the morning.’

‘But you won’t be here for her visit?’ Feeling her heart accelerate a little in sudden panic at the idea of meeting his mother without him being present, Isabella anxiously stroked the delicate skin of her throat.

Shrugging, Leandro dropped his hands to his hips. ‘I am sorry …but it is the first day of filming tomorrow and I have no idea what time I shall be home.’ Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he took out his wallet and extracted some notes. ‘Here is some money for you to get whatever you need for you and Raphael. Please take it …it is yours.’

‘I don’t want your money!’

Her dark eyes flared because Isabella was genuinely embarrassed that Leandro should give her money …as if she were some kind of pauper. She might not be exactly rich but she had not come to Spain without any funds whatsoever! His answering scowl was immediate and foreboding. ‘Isabella,’ he intoned seriously, ‘you are the mother of my son and soon to be my wife. Do not act as if I am treating you like some charity case. From now on my money is yours too and both you and our son must have whatever you need without question. Is that clear?’

‘Leandro,’ she replied a little breathlessly, ignoring the money in his outstretched hand, ‘it is far too early to talk of financial arrangements when there is still so much to sort out. And marriage is something that we have yet to properly discuss too.’

‘Bastante! Enough! It has been a long day, no? And perhaps something of a strain for both of us.’ He put the money down on a chair behind him and sighed. ‘Now is not the time for us to argue over the matter. Go and take your rest and I will be in my office.’

And before Isabella could even think of pressing the point, Leandro made his absence in the room acutely felt as he abruptly vacated it.

Checking on Raphael for the umpteenth time since she’d returned to their room, Isabella saw with deeply maternal satisfaction that her little boy continued to sleep peacefully in his travel cot by the side of the bed. Picking up the novel she’d been reading, she straightened her bookmark and closed it. Instead of reading, she leant back against the plumped up pillows covered in scented, immaculate white linen and released a sigh that seemed to emanate from her soul. It was almost half past midnight and there was still neither sight nor sound of Leandro. Isabella’s sigh helplessly transmuted into a yawn. It had

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