“Lund Avionics is one of our core suppliers,” she said firmly.
His black eyes glittered. “Exactly why we should acquire it. They’re vulnerable to a hostile takeover right now.”
“Vertical integration doesn’t make sense in this case.” She glared at him. “Plus, I don’t like kicking someone when they’re down.”
Antonio folded his arms, pulling up his tall, powerful frame in his sophisticated suit. “It’s already decided.”
“I know it is.” Folding her arms over her hugely pregnant belly, she matched him toe to toe. “We’re not doing it.”
The others in the room looked back and forth between them, wide-eyed, as if they were at a tennis match.
Antonio narrowed his eyes as if he hated her. And for the first time since they’d returned to Madrid, Hana felt shaken.
He abruptly turned away, speaking to the COO and VP of acquisitions on other topics before dismissing them a few minutes later. The COO paused, looking at Hana as he left.
“Nice work lining up the New York union negotiations, Señora Delacruz.”
“I just wish I could be part of the negotiating team,” she said ruefully. Antonio had convinced her it would be unwise, this close to her due date, to travel to New York for a week of stressful, contentious negotiations with the employees union.
“I do, too. You have a magic touch with employees. With customers and suppliers, too. And your new charity initiative—genius! Which reminds me.” The man looked at his watch. “My wife will have my hide if I don’t head home to get ready.”
“We need to do the same.” But as Hana glanced at her husband, her shy smile fell away. Antonio looked so strange, almost green. As if he’d just been kicked in the teeth. She didn’t understand. “Antonio?”
“Yes,” he said tersely, not looking at her. “We should go.”
But as the chauffeur drove the two of them home through the streets of Madrid, her husband barely looked at her.
Hana was at a loss. Surely he couldn’t be upset at her for making her mark at their company? Or for having a different opinion, when they were both simply trying to do right by everyone?
Whatever the reason was, from the moment they’d returned to Madrid, to the place she’d thought would be her forever home, Antonio had seemed more cold and distant each day.
Could he have somehow learned her secret? Glancing at him again in the back of the Bentley, Hana took a deep breath. Was it possible he was actually trying to drive her away, as he’d done with all his mistresses before?
But she wasn’t a mistress. She was his wife.
So why? When had Antonio started to pull away from her? Had it been on their honeymoon? She tried to remember. The Caribbean sun had been spun gold on the pink sand beach. For four days, she and Antonio had splashed in the sea and made love. A blush suffused Hana’s cheeks as she remembered that time in the cabana, when he’d lifted her legs around his hips as he’d plunged into her, riding her hard.
That would be impossible now. Her belly had grown in the last six months. With only a few weeks until her due date now, she was huge. The Spanish summer had nearly melted her with heat. Thank heavens that finally, in late September, the autumn air had grown cooler.
But the nights were hotter than ever, at least in their bedroom. Sex wasn’t their problem. Antonio seemed to think it was his duty to bring her to explosive, gasping fulfillment at least twice a night. Last night, he’d done it three times.
It had become harder and harder for Hana to hide her feelings. Since their honeymoon, she’d buried her love for him deep in her heart. She tried to forget. She couldn’t risk him knowing. Because if he couldn’t return her love, he’d scorn her, or worse—pity her.
What would she do then? Could she still bear to be his wife, to live by his side, to sleep in his bed, if she knew for certain he’d never feel anything for her beyond friendship?
No. She wouldn’t break up their family and home, just because her husband didn’t love her back. Home and stability were far more important than love.
Weren’t they?
The crowded city streets of Madrid in the early evening rush hour were flooded with the last rays of autumn sunshine as they went home. They were running late for their own party. But Hana could barely think about the charity ball that had been her project for the last two months. She kept giving Antonio side glances in the back of the Bentl
ey, as, in the front seat, Ramon Garcia kept up a stream of affable chatter in Spanish with the chauffeur.
Antonio pressed the button to slide up the privacy screen.
“I didn’t appreciate you contradicting me in front of the staff.”
Antonio’s voice was terse in the seat beside her. Her hands tightened in her lap.