The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage Read Online Free Page B

wedding of the year. Perhaps if you see the photographs it will trigger something in your memory.’
    â€˜Perhaps…’ She looked away and began chewing on her bottom lip, her brow furrowing once more.
    Javier watched her in silence, mulling over what to tell her and what to leave well alone. The doctor had advised against pressuring her to remember. She was disoriented and still suffering from the blow of losing her lover. Apart from that first show of grief, she hadn’t mentioned Peter Marshall again, but every now and then he saw the way her eyes would tear up and a stake would go through his heart all over again.
    She suddenly turned and met his gaze. ‘Do you have family?’ she asked. ‘Brothers or sisters and parents?’
    â€˜My mother died when I was very young,’ he said. ‘My father remarried after some years. I have a half-sister called Izabella.’ He paused before adding, ‘My father left Izabella’s mother and after the divorce remarried once again. As predicted by just about everyone who knew him, it didn’t work out and he was in the process of divorcing his third wife when he died.’
    â€˜I’m sorry for your loss,’ she said quietly. ‘Did I ever meet him?’
    Javier stretched his lips into an embittered smile.‘No. My father and I were estranged at the time. I hadn’t spoken to him for ten years.’
    Her expression was empathetic. ‘How very sad. How did the estrangement come about?’
    He drew in a breath and released it slowly. ‘My father was a stubborn man. He was hard in business and even harder in his personal life. It’s why each of his marriages turned into war zones. He liked control. It irked him that I wanted to take charge of my own life. We exchanged a few heated words and that was it. We never spoke to each other again.’
    Emelia studied his stony expression, wondering how far the apple had fallen from the tree. ‘Were you alike in looks?’ she asked.
    His eyes met hers, so dark and mysterious, making her stomach give a little unexpected flutter. ‘We shared the same colouring but had little else in common,’ he said. ‘I was closer to my mother.’
    â€˜How old were you when she died?’ Emelia asked.
    His eyes moved away from hers, his voice when he spoke flat and emotionless. ‘I was four, almost five years old.’
    Emelia felt her insides clench at the thought of him as a dark-haired, dark-eyed little boy losing his mother so young. She knew the devastation so well. She had been in her early teens when her mother had died, but still it had hit hard. Her adolescence, from fourteen years old, had been so lonely. While not particularly close to either of her high-flying parents, there had been so many times over the years when Emelia had wished she could have had just one more day with her mother. ‘Are you close to your half-sister?’ she asked.
    His lips moved in a brief, indulgent-looking smilewhich immediately softened his features, bringing warmth into his eyes. ‘Yes, strangely enough. She’s a lot younger, of course. She’s only just out of her teens but, since my father died, I’ve taken a more active role in her life. She lives in Paris with her mother but she comes to stay quite regularly.’
    â€˜So…I’ve met her, then?’ Emelia asked, trying to ignore the way her stomach shifted in response to his warmer expression.
    His eyes came back to hers, studying her for a pulsing moment. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘You’ve met her numerous times.’
    Emelia moistened her lips, something she seemed to do a lot around him. ‘Do we…get on?’ she asked, choosing her words carefully.
    His unreadable gaze bored into hers. ‘Unfortunately, you were not the best of friends. I think it was perhaps because Izabella was used to having my undivided attention. She saw you as a threat, as