Page 25 of Modern Romance June 2025 5-8

She slipped through the back door. María stood in the doorway to the kitchens, busy directing a group of housemaids who were taking breakfast trays up to the party guests who had stayed the night.

Everyone stopped to stare at her. And the trickle of embarrassment became a flood.

Cerys cleared her throat.

Just play it cool, Cerys. They don’t necessarily know about your midnight tryst with the boss.

‘Hola, cómo estás?’ she said, trying not to feel as if she had a huge red X sewn onto her T-shirt.

Talk about awkward.

She should probably be grateful Santiago had had the foresight to ask for some fresh clothes, because getting caught trying to sneak back into thecastillowearing the torn dress would have been a lot worse.

Instead of her usual smile, though, María hurried towards her wearing a concerned frown, while the maids, most of whom Cerys considered friends, all began to curtsy.

When María reached her, though, the friendly housekeeper curtseyed too.

And awkward became mortifying.

What the hell?

‘María, stop,’ she managed in Spanish, tugging on the housekeeper’s elbow to lift her out of the curtsy. ‘What’s going on?’

The housekeeper straightened, but her eyes were still filled with a deference which made Cerys even more uncomfortable. Had Santiago said something to them? Surely this couldn’t be a reaction to their disappearance from last night’s fiesta.

María spoke to her in Spanish in hushed tones, something aboutel Duquewaiting for her and how she had no need to enter the house through the kitchens any more.

Why not?

Before she could ask the question though, María was directing her past the genuflecting housemaids, who wouldn’t meet her eye, and up the stairs to thecastillo’s entrance hall.

She was still trying to figure out what was going on when María knocked firmly on Santiago’s study door and ushered her inside, before disappearing again.

Cerys stood dumbly in the entrance to the elegantly furnished room. She’d never been invited to Santiago’s office before, but it wasn’t the ornate antique furniture—or the shelves filled with textbooks and legal tomes—or even the huge mullioned window which offered a spectacular view of thecastillo’s vineyards that intimidated her the most. That would be the six other people—who were seated around the main desk—staring back at her, all dressed in business attire, especially when they all stood up abruptly.

Cerys’s discomfort sky-rocketed, but it was nothing compared to the giddy rush when Santiago stood up from behind his desk and crossed the silk carpeting to greet her. Could he look any more dashing in the tailored pants and shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal the tanned forearms which had held her so securely last night?

‘Cerys, you are awake, finally,’ he announced in English, the slight reprimand in his tone more amused than censorious.

But the telltale blush still surged into her face when he tucked a knuckle under her chin and tilted her head up. His lips captured hers in a firm, demanding kiss, intensifying the adrenaline rush, and the weird feeling of unreality. She sucked in a shocked breath—because he was basically announcing their relationship to all these people.

Why would he do that? She tried to make sense of his behaviour, while also controlling the foolish feeling of validation.

He placed a proprietary hand on her hip to lean down and whisper confidentially in her ear, ‘We will take that kiss to its logical conclusion later, but first we have something important to discuss.’

We do?

Hot arousal tangled with the confusion in her belly—which had kicked off ever since she’d walked into the kitchens and the staff had stared at her as if she had just flown in from Pluto. The people in the study—who were making her feel woefully underdressed—had the exact same look on their faces: part fascination, part awe.

Santiago ordered them all to be seated again. Taking her trembling fingers in a firm grip, he led her back across the office—introducing her to each person in turn. She instantly forgot most of the names, but did gather—from her not entirely fluent Spanish—they consisted of his legal team from Madrid, a private detective from Barcelona and representatives from both the British consulate and the Barcelona police. An elegant Spanish man, who had been introduced as the British ambassador’s representative, jumped up to offer her his seat beside Santiago’s desk, then bowed and retreated to stand at the back of the room.

‘Santiago…’ she whispered, trying not to feel intimidated as he let go of her hand to retake his seat beside her.

Why was everyone staring at her? And why had Santiago asked her to come to his study during what was some kind of business meeting, when she knew nothing whatsoever about any of his businesses?

‘I… I really don’t think I should be here,’ she added when he simply sent her the charming smile she remembered from the previous evening. It had enchanted her then, and made her feel cherished and seen, so she clung to it now. Whatever was going on, he seemed pleased to see her—and he didn’t seem to regret last night—which was good, right?

‘I have a proposition for you, Cerys, which I believe will suit us both very well, but there is work to do first. We must discover your identity as a matter of urgency—which is why I have hired Señor Pérez, who has an exceptional reputation for investigating missing person cases,’ he continued, indicating the detective, who was busy tapping out something on his phone. The older man looked up and sent her a friendly smile, which had her anxiety downgrading a notch. ‘He will need to question you and take photos before he returns to Barcelona today to begin an in-depth investigation and track down your stolen ID documents.’

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