“Was that Kiara? What did she say?” he asked as he noticed her glistening eyes. They were in the back of his car, headed to Casa del Cielo after nearly two weeks in Madrid.
“My sister. It doesn’t matter.” She leaned to check on Locke, fast asleep in his carrier.
Sister? She hadn’t said much about her family, only that it was “complicated.” The one time she had looked as though she was willing to open up, Locke had needed her and the moment had passed.
“What did she say to upset you?”
“Can we talk about it another time?” She flicked a glance at the nanny, who was staring out the window and trying to pretend she wasn’t there.
Javiero bit back a curse of frustration. He couldn’t fix problems she wouldn’t identify.
“Things will calm down now we’re home.” He nodded as the villa came into view. He kept his attention on her as she took in Casa del Cielo atop a plateau draped in vineyards and orchards. From its vantage point, he had always felt as though he could see from the Atlantic Ocean to the Mediterranean. He loved his home with all his heart.
“Sky House,” she murmured with awe. “Pictures don’t do it justice.”
Maybe he had expected covetousness to enter her expression, or judgment of its weathered age, both things he’d seen on other women’s faces. Parts of the villa were three hundred years old. It definitely had its limitations, but his grandfather had added the “new” wing and the swimming pool sixty years ago, when he’d started his own family. The additional outbuildings for the vineyard had contributed to money troubles later, but were in good repair now.
Javiero had been picking away at further modernizations. Casa del Cielo was now a showpiece of old-world charm run on cutting-edge technologies of Wi-Fi, solar power and soil analysis sensors.
Wonder softened Scarlett’s face as they drew closer, but the melancholy from her sister’s missive lingered. His heart expanded when she touched Locke’s curled fist and said, “Look. This is your papi’s home.”
“His, too. And yours.”
The tilt of her mouth said, We’ll see.
It was a disturbing refutation that niggled at him. He’d achieved what he had through grit and drive, pushing past doubters with sheer force of will. In the past, he hadn’t pulled back with Scarlett, either. She’d always been a formidable opponent, maintaining a serene expression no matter how biting he had become, doggedly looking for ways to get behind his defenses and tilt him toward Niko’s bidding.
He had never softened toward her and didn’t want to now. Still, even though her own shields were up, she had been visibly upset by what he’d told her of Niko’s treatment of him. He was annoyed with himself that he’d revealed it. It was a sore spot that had never fully healed, but he was tired of her putting all the blame for his rift with his father on him.
He didn’t want her dancing around it, though, acknowledging it. It was another reason he was keeping up his guard.
They wound past the wine-making sheds and around the old stables, now converted into a garage with staff housing on top.
Casa del Cielo was a small village unto itself with twenty staff members living on-site and another twenty coming and going daily from the nearby town. Then there were pickers and other seasonal workers as needed.
Maybe he was kidding himself, thinking they would have more peace and quiet here. He was always in high demand and family often dropped by unannounced, knowing they were always welcome. Today, though, only his mother knew of their intention to arrive
Paloma was waiting for them in the front parlor.
“Scarlett,” she greeted in her frostiest tone, not offering her cheeks for a kiss, remaining seated, spine ramrod straight.
“It’s nice to see you again, Señora Rodriguez.” Scarlett stood with her hands clasped before her. “Thank you again for your assistance in Athens.”
“Of course.” She kept her gaze on Locke as Javiero released him from his infant seat.
Javiero expected his mother to tell Scarlett she needn’t to be so formal, given the circumstances, but as the silence stretched, he realized he would have to do that himself.
“You can call her Paloma,” he told Scarlett as he handed Locke to his mother.
His mother said nothing, only smiled at her grandson in a way Javiero had never seen her gaze upon him. “He looks just like you,” she said reverently. “Bienvenido, querido.”
Locke clutched her finger and craned his neck, mouth opening the way he did when he was growing hungry.
“Oh,” Scarlett said ruefully, moving forward. “He’s still in that stage of nursing every hour or two. I should take him.”
“Bottle-feed him. He’ll go four hours.” Paloma made no effort to give him up.
Scarlett’s shoulders stiffened.
Paloma’s chin set.
Javiero bit back a curse.
“He’s two weeks old, Mother. There’s time to introduce formula later.” He took the baby and handed him to Scarlett. “The butler will show you to his room.” He moved to touch the bell. “I’ll find you once he’s settled and show you around.”
She nodded and Javiero waited until she was out of earshot before he turned on his mother. “Do not engage in a power struggle with her over our son. You’ll lose. I’ll side with her every time.”
“By all means, tie your son to her nipple. What could possibly go wrong?” She picked up a cup of tea from near her elbow. “You’re still allowing her to control Niko’s fortune?” Those statements were not unrelated.
“Believe it or not, Mother, I have no control over who controls Dad’s money. That’s up to Scarlett and Kiara.”
“And the lawyers we engage if we choose to. Who is Kiara? Oh, Val’s broodmare. Excuse me. I should say, bride-to-be.” She sipped as though to cleanse her palette. “They’ve posted banns in Milan. It came up in the links with your press release. Have you settled on a date for your own wedding? I
