Desert Orchid: The Desert Princes: Book 1 (37 page)

Jacob’s eyes narrowed into dark slits, became so cool that she shivered.

Those eyes missed nothing as they searched her face.

"I know you can handle my father. You can handle anything."  But the tone had gone silky now. "Why?"

Gabriella licked parched lips.

"I made a mistake. I’m so sorry. I can’t tell you how sorry I am. But I..."

Her voice broke.

"Stop saying you are sorry," he exploded and moved towards her.

Gabriella flinched from his pain, from the desperation in his voice and took a step back, fear skidding up her spine. If he touched her she would break and never, ever, let him go.

His eyes went wide and she recognised hurt battling through utter disbelief.

"You are
scared?
Of me?"

Shame scorched her cheeks.

Nausea crawled into her throat.

She was deliberately hurting a good man. A man who would stand by her, she knew he would. And that was precisely why she needed to let him go.

"I would never harm you. How could you even think of such a thing," he said, his Spanish accent stronger as he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. Now he spoke with great care, enunciating every single syllable, "Gabriella, we love each other. Do we not?"

The deep hurt in eyes now dark with a baffled disbelief matched the fist squeezing the life from her heart.

Sending up a prayer for forgiveness, she lied straight to his face.

"No. I don’t love you," she whispered. And rubbed the incinerating ache below her breast bone.

She’d thought she’d experienced anguish?

It was nothing compared to this.

Hands clenched at his sides, Jacob’s breath came hard and fast, and she watched him fighting a war of attrition to keep it together.

With trembling fingers, she took off her diamond and platinum engagement ring, placing it on the table.

He recoiled as if she’d struck him.

"Keep it." But she merely shook her head and on shaky legs moved past him. "What about the house?" The raw torment in his voice mirrored the spear of agony in her chest.

She stopped, pressed trembling fingers to her mouth to contain the cry lodged in her throat. The construction crew had just broken ground on their new family home, but she couldn’t think of it. Truly, she was in the middle of a waking nightmare, had been for two hellish days, reliving over and over again the exact moment when her whole world had collapsed.

Don’t think about it, not now.

"It’s yours," she whispered. "It’s the least I can do."

"Just like that? That is it? No discussion?"

Rage replaced pain in those dark eyes and Jacob’s fury lanced a heart already in pieces.

Gabriella knew that if she didn’t get out now she never would. The only thing keeping her together was the unbearable knowledge of what their future held. And she drew strength from that.

Picking up her coat and purse she moved towards the door.

"Stop!" The desperate plea in his tone was edged with a despair that made her pause as her hand gripped the door handle.

She could not bear to look at him.

"The truth, Gabriella. Is there someone else?"

She stiffened, blinking with shock, then realised he’d thrown her a lifeline. What difference would one more lie make? And she knew there would be no going back now. Because Jacob would never, ever, forgive betrayal.

Her conscience was screaming now, asking her what the hell she was doing?

He would be there for her in sickness and in health. But that was the whole point, wasn’t it? Thank God, she’d found out before they’d taken their vows. He deserved to be happy. Deserved to have a future, to have all the things he dreamed of, things she couldn’t give him.

"Something like that."

His gasp of shock had her open the door.

"Damn you, Gabriella," he said through clenched teeth as his voice finally cracked. "God damn you straight to hell."

Hot tears blinded her.

"I’m already there, my darling," she said so softly he could never hear her.

With a shaky breath Gabriella Dolman straightened her spine and stepped through the door into an uncertain future.

Chapter One

Running a five star resort and spa was a crazy business.

Especially a Ferranti Hotel and Spa. That’s why Jacob loved it. He loved Ludlow Hall’s unique blend of sophistication, the state-of-the art fixtures, fittings, and of course its history. Along with the gleaming sandstone pillars, the dignified state rooms with their luxurious soft furnishings in heavy silks, and he particularly loved the one thousand thread Egyptian cotton sheets on vast beds.

Jacob pushed back from his desk leaning back in his ergonomic chair and took five to simply enjoy the spectacular view through the open French doors of his office. The summer had been a scorcher and it looked as if early autumn was going to be a warm one too. He was going to miss this place. In just under three weeks he’d be back in the Bahamas enjoying sun, sea and sand.

Ludlow Hall was set in a sea of emerald lawns and woodland in hundreds of acres of glorious English countryside, and boasted over two hundred and thirty suites, state and exclusive bedrooms, not counting the various annexes.

For couples looking for stunning seclusion, with swimming or plunge pools carved out of  solid rock, the gleaming glass and oak cottages nestling in the hills ticked the box.

Of course running a place this size, the restaurants, the bars, the spa, and everything else with precision, took talent. Along with a small army of dedicated staff at the top of their game.

Yes, Jacob had to admit that Nico Ferranti ran his hotels and spas with the same verve and the same charisma as his father, Don Norberto Juan Ortiz Conde Del Garda, ran the Ortiz group of luxury hotels. And the job swap for three months was working out well too. Alexander Ludlow was in the Bahamas running Jacob’s pride and joy The Ortiz Prince Felipe, one of the top hotels in the world. And Jacob was running Ludlow Hall. Just as Alexander didn’t have carté blanché in the Bahamas - Jacob’s father would never permit that -  Jacob didn’t have a free hand running Ludlow Hall. Nico kept a close eye on the comings and goings in his favourite spot and that was fine with Jacob.

There was something very special about Ludlow Hall, the tranquillity, the peace of the place that had managed to soothe a tortured soul, even if it couldn’t touch a battered heart. And Jacob wondered now if he was beginning to heal.

But the burn, the constant ache in the region of his heart told its own story.

Twelve months, two weeks and three days.

He’d stopped torturing himself by counting the hours and the minutes since Gabriella had walked out shattering his life. That type of thinking was a one way ticket to insanity.

It hadn’t taken him long to realise that the shock to his pride, his ego, had prevented him from thinking clearly that day and for too many days afterwards.

He’d wasted precious time.

Fool.

Most of all he wanted - no, he needed - answers.

Who had she left him for?

When had she met him?

Where had she met him?

And where the hell was she now? Because Gabriella Dolman had apparently disappeared from the face of the earth.

Well, her physical presence had disappeared.

Unfortunately, her face was plastered on billboards all around the damned world as the face of
Corruption,
a limited edition best selling scent that only the über rich could afford. For the world-wide advertising campaign the woman he loved had been photographed in Greece leaning back against ancient ruins bleached by the sun. Gabriella had been cast for the
Pour Femme
version of the scent along with male supermodel Noah Blake for the
Pour Homme
version.

Jacob would never forget the time he’d nearly crashed his car right in the middle of central London when he'd first seen her so much larger than life plastered on the side of a red London bus. She wore a black bustier, which pushed her small breasts together elevating them above her tiny ribcage. Diamond earrings dangled from her ears and a matching single diamond glittered between her breasts. Breasts he’d kissed, caressed and adored. Her long blonde hair was tousled, windswept, as her blue, blue eyes smudged with kohl stared into the distance. Slashing eyebrows, fabulous cheekbones and a full mouth blessed with lips that were made for kissing tortured him as he’d simply sat and stared at her. At everything he'd lost. Every time he picked up a glossy magazine or turned on the television it was like another hard bump on the livid bruise of his heart. He simply could never escape her.

And he’d spent money, serious money, in a vain attempt to track her down.

The company who handled her public relations, run by his brother Lucas, had no idea where she was either. All she’d told them was that life was too short to waste time doing something that didn’t feed her soul. She was taking a sabbatical, had given up modelling to follow her dreams and couldn’t be contacted.

Jacob had flown to New York to meet with Tobin Gillespie, Lucas’s partner and Gabriella’s agent, to get to the truth. But it was obvious Tobin was just as shocked, just as worried and ultimately just as confused as Jacob.

While he was in New York, he’d met with Noah Blake in case the passion, lust and chemistry between him and Gabriella had transferred off screen. But the guy had made it crystal clear their relationship had been nothing but professional. It was obvious to Jacob that Noah was stunned too because according to him she’d been excited about her forthcoming wedding and couldn’t wait to embrace her future with Jacob.

Then he’d tried Gabriella’s twin sister Sophie.

He’d always had a good relationship with Sophie, at least he thought he had. But after telling him that her sister was fine she’d refused to take his calls. And since Sophie was now in the middle of the Kenyan bush studying mosquito larvae for the World Health Organisation, Jacob Del Garda was stuck, trapped in anger and despair, trapped in the unknown with no answers.

If there was one thing Jacob took pride in it was that he was a man who faced things head on. He was a problem solver who took action, who found solutions, who fixed things.

But he couldn’t fix this and it was fucking killing him.

The nights were the worst.

When he’d found himself reaching for the Cognac too often, he’d retreated to the gym to pound for miles on the treadmill, to beat the shit out of the punch bag, and to bench press his own body weight. And the results were clear to see. He was a lean fighting machine and as mean as hell. His temper these days was a live and vicious thing and he kept it on a tightly controlled leash.

The people who loved him, his father Don Norberto and his brother Lucas, had been worried sick about him. He was sorry for it. They’d tried to talk to him, but he kept a tight lid on his emotions because the last thing he wanted to do was to break down and cry like a baby because once he started he was terrified he’d never stop. So he’d kept away from his family and buried himself in work. However, it was his sister-in-law Rebecca who’d managed to reach out and connect with him. Rebecca recognised another person struggling to cope with loss. She’d had been through her own personal version of hell on earth when her first husband had dropped dead of a brain aneurysm at the age of thirty-four and then she’d lost the baby daughter she’d been carrying. The way his brother Lucas had battled to capture Rebecca’s heart had been a lesson in the truth that true love conquered all. And now Lucas and Rebecca had been blessed with twin boys. Jacob adored his nephews. Without them, without his family, he’d no idea what he’d have done.

Still, he couldn’t seem to lose the feelings of anger, of utter helplessness, and of a deep abiding pain that was so relentless it unnerved him.

He hadn’t had another woman. Hadn’t looked at another woman because he wanted, needed, only one. In his darkest hours he sometimes wished Gabriella had died because at least it meant a person knew there was a certain kind of closure. And right on the heels of that diabolical thought came guilt. But the way she’d walked right out of the door, the way she’d trembled, the look in those spectacular eyes of deep blue haunted him still. Because he’d read regret, pain and something that he was absolutely certain had been terror.

What the hell had she been so scared of?

Him?

Hell, he’d treated her like porcelain.

She had that fine fair skin that marked, bruised, too easily.

Christ, if he closed his eyes he could smell her, taste her, and hear those clipped vowels in precise English as she called him,
darling
.
Jacob, darling,
as she took him into her tight, slick heat. As she stroked, licked his...

Stop.

Bitter experience had taught him that kind of thinking got him nowhere.