Page 77 of Modern Romance Collection March 2025 (1-4)

Rose’s first trip on an aeroplane had been for a visit to Diaz and Rosaria’s parents in Spain when she’d been seventeen. Rosaria had begged for Rose to be allowed to go with them. Mrs Martinez hadn’t needed persuading.

Diaz had graduated from university the year before. To celebrate, his uber-rich parents, the celebrated faces and brains behind the Tinez luxury beauty brand, had given him a large pot of cash with which to make his own way in the world. As a result, his visits to Devon had substantially decreased, the long weeks of his presence throughout the year reduced to the weekends he could fit them into his busy schedule. Strangely, Rose had found herself missing him, although when he did turn up she quickly resorted back to loathing him in the face of his unrelenting hostility towards her.

The return flight eight years earlier had been the height of luxury. First class! It had blown her mind. No doubt if Diaz had booked it, she’d have been stuck at the back in cattle class.

This journey, travelling on Diaz’s private jet, which made the luxury of first class seem like the cattle class he’d have chucked her in all those years ago, she was too exhausted to appreciate the sumptuousness of it all. Both girls screamed their heads off during take-off but then quickly quieted, and with Amelia asleep in her secured carrycot and Josie contentedly trying to eat Diaz’s nose, there was nothing to stop Rose from obeying her body’s yearn for sleep…and nothing to stop the most potent memory of her last visit to Spain from weaving into her dreams…

‘Sure you don’t want a puff?’ Rosaria asked, waving the spliff over Rose’s face.

‘I’m sure.’

Rose had tried dope once, over the Easter holidays, from the small stash Rosaria had brought home with her from boarding school. She’d hated the way it made her feel all woozy. Rosaria, though, liked the way it made her feel, and having unlimited funds from her generous but neglectful parents meant she could afford to buy it whenever she chose. And afford to buy other narcotics too, Rose suspected, despite Rosaria’s denials. She knew lots of people smoked dope but it made her increasingly uncomfortable to see her best friend smoke it. Worried her too. Rosaria had changed in the last year. The one time Rose had tried to voice her concerns, Rosaria had brushed them away with an airy, ‘I’m eighteen. I make my own choices now. Don’t worry,’ she’d added in a placatory tone, ‘I know what my limits are.’

And maybe she did, Rose thought as she closed her eyes and enjoyed the feel of the sun on her bikini-clad body. The girls had the Martinez villa to themselves and were sunbathing around the pool.

She was probably worrying about nothing. They’d been in Spain for four days and had spent every waking hour together. This was the first time Rosaria had done anything she shouldn’t since they’d arrived, so maybe she should cut her some slack and…

There was the strangest prickling of her skin, and then Rosaria swore under her breath. ‘My brother. Quick, take it.’

Rose shot upright and found the spliff stuck between her fingers before her brain caught up to realise what she was doing.

Striding past the pool, Diaz. Diaz wearing nothing but a pair of black swim shorts and black shades, his attention firmly on the screen of his phone…until he realised he wasn’t alone and came to an abrupt halt.

Rose had frozen. The beats of her heart had gone haywire. When Diaz’s stare locked onto hers, a fuzzy, electrical sensation danced over her skin and all of a sudden she was filled with a sticky awareness she couldn’t begin to understand. What she did understand in that frozen moment, though, was that Diaz, her best friend’s hateful older brother, was no longer a boy. At some point, when she hadn’t been watching, Diaz had turned into a man. A beautiful, broad-chested, sculpted man and, oh, she could hardly breathe to look at him.

She’d barely noticed he’d started walking again. Not until he stood before them and his nose twitched and his gaze dropped to the spliff held in her frozen fingers.

‘How dare you bring that filth into my parents’ home?’ he accused tightly.

In an instant, the spell he’d cast her under was broken. ‘I…’ Feeling Rosaria’s pleading eyes on her, Rose’s denial caught on her tongue. ‘I’m sorry,’ she finished lamely.

‘Sorry you got caught,’ he snarled before glaring at his sister. ‘Did you share this with her?’

‘No, of course not,’ Rosaria denied. ‘You know I wouldn’t touch that stuff. Rose brought it.’

The rest of Diaz’s diatribe was lost through the whooshing in her ears at Rosaria’s betrayal.

‘Did you hear what I just said, Rose?’ he demanded, compelling her to look back at his furious face through sheer force of will. ‘I will be telling my grandmother about this and will let her decide whether your mother should be informed. Considering the gravity of your mother’s condition, I am disgusted you would do anything to make the time she has left harder. Thank God you’re going home tomorrow—when you get back, you stay away from my sister, do you hear me? I always knew you were bad news. This friendship ends now.’

He stormed away, his poison still ringing in Rose’s ears.

‘Rose?’ Rosaria whispered.

‘Don’t say anything,’ she managed to drag out, hugging her knees tightly and fighting back tears of humiliation and hurt and betrayal. ‘Just…don’t.’

‘Rose…’

‘No.’

A hand lightly touched her shoulder.

‘Rose. Wake up.’

She snapped her eyes open. Diaz was hovering over her. Diaz of now, not the Diaz of then. He had one of their daughters in his arms. Amelia. She couldn’t read the expression on his face. If it was anyone else, she’d guess it might be concern.

‘You were crying in your sleep,’ he said slowly.

She touched her wet cheek. ‘Just a dream,’ she whispered.

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