Alejandro’s mouth quirked in a half-smile. ‘This is the result when I’m not allowed to see my fiancée for almost twenty-four hours. Whoever came up with that idiotic tradition deserves to hang.’
His dark hazel eyes shifted to Goldie. Lingered.
Although Gael knew the depth of feeling between his half-brother and his almost-wife, something very much like jealousy shifted inside him. ‘Goldie, this is Alejandro, my bear of a brother. Andro—meet Goldie.’
‘Pleased to meet you. And congratulations on both accounts,’ Andro drawled.
Goldie smiled and held out her hand. Alejandro’s eyes widened infinitesimally before he took her hand and brushed his lips over the back of it.
Gael bristled.
Andro sent him a payback’s a bitch wink.
He laughed, knowing he deserved the payback for flirting with Elise the first time they’d met.
‘Okay. Well played,’ he replied.
Goldie looked from him to Andro. ‘Am I missing something?’
Gael shook his head. ‘Nothing worth mentioning.’
Alejandro laughed under his breath, then his expression sobered. When he glanced at a nearby clock Gael was sure he growled under his breath.
‘Do you need my help with anything, or shall we leave you to your growling and staff-frightening?’ he mocked.
‘If I wasn’t absolutely certain Elise would have my hide, I’d sink a double shot of bourbon right about now.’ He cast another look at the clock.
Gael laughed. ‘Good luck with that. I’ll see you at the altar.’
Alejandro nodded, started to walk away and then stopped. ‘Mi hermano, I should warn you—our father is here. He arrived early. You can avoid him if you want, but if you’re headed for the salon he’ll be in there.’
His eyes narrowed and Gael saw the same ruthlessness that coursed through his veins reflected in his brother’s eyes.
‘For Elise’s sake I would prefer it if you kept your reunion brawl-free—entiendes?’
Everything inside Gael tightened, but he managed a nod before his brother walked away. Gael remained where he stood, his senses once more on the finest of edges.
‘We don’t have to go in there if you don’t want to.’
He started, having momentarily forgotten his wife’s presence. Resolutely, he shook his head. ‘This meeting has been inevitable and it’s long overdue. Besides, I have a couple of things to get off my chest,’ he said.
He saw the trepidation in her face, wished he could soothe it. But the stri
des carrying him into the salon demanded all his attention.
Gael’s eyes zeroed in on him immediately—saw the moment his father sensed his presence. He stood next to his wife, Alejandro’s mother, who was seated with a coffee in her hand.
Tomas Aguilar’s gaze sharpened, then widened with a mixture of shock and shame before his expression was neutralised. Gael wished that evidence of shame soothed the part of him he’d for a long time denied was still hurting. Perhaps a few months ago—before Tomas had struck up his illicit affair with his mother once more—it would have gone some way to soothe the rejection.
But not now.
He strolled forward until he reached the two of them.
Evita Aguilar glanced up at him, her face reflecting neither acceptance nor rejection. For a moment he felt sorry for her, having tied her destiny to a man with such low scruples. But she averted her gaze and her opinion ceased to matter.
His eyes reconnected with Tomas Aguilar’s and again he saw that momentary flash of shame, this time accompanied by regret.
‘It’s good to see you...son,’ his father said in his native tongue.