Shock rocketed her to her feet. Her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest. “You’re the one trying to steal my company?”
“Steal? Such harsh words” He made a tsking sound. “You have made poor decisions, Rebecca. Do not continue to do so.”
Cold sweat spread over her skin. Oh, God. She wasn’t the one who’d made poor decisions—but what did it matter now? Her father had thought he’d been doing the right thing.
They’d tumbled far in the five years since she’d last seen Alejandro. Then, she’d been the one with the knowledge about the hotel business, the one with the might of a multi-million dollar company behind her. He’d been the new kid on the block with everything to learn.
How had everything changed so drastically?
There was still time to fix it. Not much, but a little. She could turn everything around and stop him. She would stop him or she wasn’t a Layton through and through. She’d picked herself up once before when he’d devastated her. She could do it again.
Alejandro could sense weakness like a shark sensing blood in the water. She would not give it to him. She forced herself to sound calm, controlled. “It’s not over yet. You’re counting chickens.”
“Counting chickens?” His laugh jarred her. “Ah, one of your Americanisms. Never count the chickens before they hatch, right?” She heard him speaking to someone in Spanish. “It is a done deal, Rebecca. Layton International belongs to Ramirez Enterprises.”
She felt the chill of his words as if someone had picked her up and thrust her into the arctic. It was an odd sensation, totally at odds with her memory of the heat he’d once incited. She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then stay in Hawaii while I hire a new CEO. Or come advise the board on how to handle my new acquisition. Your choice.”
He knew she was in Hawaii? Did he also know about the deal she’d just closed to acquire a chain of resorts in the islands?
This deal would have saved everything in just a few short months. Rebecca sank onto a rattan chair as her legs refused to hold her up any longer. The certainty in his voice was undeniable.
She knew from personal experience how determined Alejandro could be when he wanted something. He didn’t rest until he’d won, until he’d imposed his will and gotten exactly what he wanted. If he was calling her now, he was very certain he had control of Layton International.
Lock, stock, and barrel as her dad would have said. Jackson Layton was probably spinning in his grave right this instant. He’d never liked Alejandro. He would be shattered to know the company he’d built had fallen into his enemy’s hands. And all because his daughter hadn’t seen it coming. Because she’d been too weak and too blind to sense a threat from her former lover.
“I think I hate you,” she said softly.
“Then we are even.” The line went dead.
2
Rebecca leaned numbly against the soft leather seat of the Mercedes limo that had picked her up at the Madrid Barajas International Airport. She stared bleary-eyed at the scenery as the car carried her down the Gran Via.
He’d said he hated her. It shouldn’t surprise her, but somehow it did.
Five long years. She hadn’t seen him, other than glimpses on television or in the pages of a magazine, in all that time. For one month, he’d been everything to her. After her meeting in Barcelona had concluded, she’d returned to Madrid and spent a heady month as Alejandro’s lover. He’d been there when she woke, when she fell asleep, when she swam or shopped or ate. He’d laughed and made love to her and made her think she was the most special woman in the world.
Now? She pinched the bridge of her nose. God only knew what happened now. He was ruthless, and he’d gained control of Layton International. He owned every last share. She’d confirmed it during the endless hours of travel.
She had nothing left. If he fired her, she could only limp away in shame. Without her company, she was stone cold broke. She could pay her mortgage for the next three months and she could eat. If she hadn’t found a job by then, she’d lose her apartment and all her belongings.
Somehow, the loss didn’t compare to the loss of self-respect, the knowledge that she’d failed to protect her family legacy. She didn’t know how to do anything except run a chain of hotels. It’s what she’d been brought up to do—however reluctantly on her father’s behalf—and what she’d spent her life training for and trying to excel at. What would her father say if he could see her now? He’d wanted a son to leave the business to, but she was all he had. Would he now believe his concern about leaving a woman in charge was justified? She couldn’t bear to think of his disappointment.
The car wound through downtown, nearing the ornate grey façade of the Villa de Música, the Ramirez crown jewel in the heart of Madrid. Her heart hurt with the memories seeing it again brought.
Rebecca shoved away thoughts of Alejandro. She’d see him soon enough, and though her stomach twisted, she reminded herself firmly that she was here for business. She would not be intimidated. His mere presence wouldn’t turn her to mush like it once had.
She was only mildly surprised when the car continued past the hotel. She’d half expected to be shown to a room, allowed to freshen up, maybe sleep a little before being dragged into Alejandro’s presence. Since she had no idea where they were going, she tried to close her eyes—but rest eluded her.
After what seemed like hours in traffic, the limo pulled into a private drive somewhere in the hills of Madrid. Rebecca wasn’t sure where they
