Chapter Nineteen
Her plane would be leaving right about now. Raoul frowned at the design for a cable bridge on his computer and shut the program down. If he continued in this half-assed fashion, he’d end up redoing all the work. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.
Time to get your life in order, Sandoval . Truly, he should be grateful for yesterday, for seeing how she reacted to him. His last doubt had been resolved, and he no longer had to argue with himself whether he wanted her to return. He rubbed his cheek, scowling at the scratchiness. Forgot to shave again. He needed to clean up before the party.
If she showed up and dropped to her knees and begged him to make her his slave, he wouldn’t agree. He closed his eyes and hauled in a painful breath. No. Over the past weeks, he’d realized he couldn’t take that step. Not now. Especially not with a woman who’d steal his heart, his life, and then decide she’d made a mistake.
He glanced around the house he’d built in an attempt to eradicate his wife from his memories.
Now Kimberly’s presence infused it instead. So many memories just from the few weeks they’d been together, and even though he’d known she’d leave.
How much worse would it be if they tried to build a future together? And then she’d tell him she didn’t want a master, didn’t want to serve him—or love him either. Would he have to build a new house again?
He tried to laugh, but it sounded more like a response to a gut shot. His love for Alicia bore no resemblance to the overwhelming way he felt about Kimberly. She was warmth and laughter and hopes he should never have harbored.
If he really thought she’d stay with him, accept him, that might be different. If he’d met her before her slavery, maybe…maybe he would have risked trying to teach her about her own needs.
She was brave, so very resilient, but that would ask too much.
He’d tried living a vanilla life. He couldn’t do it again. He’d unconsciously take the control from a little sub, and she would resent it. And leave him.
No. Maybe in a few years, he’d be willing to open himself up to the potential for pain. Kimberly would have married some nice normal man, probably have some children by then. The thought stabbed into his heart like a rapier.
He swallowed and forced a smile. He would wish her well.
Mouth tight, he sat back down at his computer and brought up the program. He’d work. Period.
An hour later, the sound of the doorbell ran through Raoul’s empty house. He glanced at the clock—only ten in the morning. The party for Kari and Dan didn’t start until one, and the caterers had already arrived and filled the fridge. Who would this be? Kimberly? The momentary hope lit his heart and died as quickly. Long gone.
He saved his design and headed for the front, actually a bit pleased at the interruption. Anything was better than the hollow feeling of his home. Pitiful, Sandoval. But he’d be happy to leave again.
He pulled open the door, assuming he’d be buying some Girl Scout cookies or a magazine subscription he didn’t need. The neighborhood children had him figured for a soft touch. But no child waited in the entry.
He stared for a second before his voice would work. “Mamá?”
“Mijo.” His mother had tears in her eyes. Lucia stood a pace behind, openly crying.
Had one of his nephews been hurt? Raoul took his mother’s frail hands. “Mamá, what has happened? What is wrong?”
“Raoul, I was so cruel. I didn’t know.” His mother wrapped her arms around him, weeping as if her heart were breaking.
“Please, please, don’t cry. Whatever is wrong, I will fix it.”
A second later, his sister attached herself like a burr to his side.
Carajo, this looked bad. “Has something happened to the boys?” More sobbing. He clamped a hand on his sister’s arm and gave it a shake. “Lucia, talk to me.”
His sister gave a shuddering laugh and wiped her face, then rubbed her mother’s back. “Shhh, Mamá, we’re scaring him.”
Raoul growled. “Lucia, you will tell me what is wrong. Now.”
They exchanged glances and smiled. Smiled?
“Dominant, yes, you are surely that,” his mother said. “You sound like your papá did.”
He winced and tried to step back. “I just—”
“’Mano, we found last night that your wife lied to us that day. The day you filed for divorce,” Lucia said. Her voice turned icy. “Alicia said you whipped her until she bled, that you hit her over and over. You forced her to be a slave and gave her to other men. She said she had to run to get away from you.”
“We didn’t believe her.” His mother wiped her face with the tiny handkerchief she always tucked under her belt. “But she showed us horrible bloody marks and bruises everywhere.”
Raoul stared at them. “But… I didn’t.”
“No, you didn’t.” Lucia’s eyes flashed black with anger. “But when Mamá asked you if you ever hit Alicia and if you ever had put a collar on her, you said yes.” She held her hand up to stop him from speaking. “You thought we were talking about how you lived. Raoul, we thought you were admitting to beating her and forcing her to be a slave.”
Someone had jammed a lead pipe into his chest. Pain with every pulse. “All these years, and you thought—”
“Mijo, I am sorry,” his mamá whispered. “I should have known you would never do such a thing. Only you said you had. But you didn’t.”
“Then—” Why didn’t his brain work? “How did you find out—”
Both women smiled at him, and Lucia said sweetly, “It’s not important, ’mano.”
The hell it wasn’t. His mouth tightened. He’d find out, damned if he wouldn’t. But for now… “Come in, Mamá. Lucia. I have coffee made.” As they walked inside, his heart swelled. His family was in his home.
“Raoul, this is beautiful,” his mother said as she walked through the great room, and his throat tightened when he saw his mother’s eyes. Love. Pride. How long since she’d looked at him that way? “We will not stay long, but…we couldn’t wait any longer.”
“I wouldn’t let her call. I wasn’t sure you’d talk to us,” Lucia admitted. “I’ve been horrible to you.”
He shook his head, remembering the marks on Alicia’s body. He pulled cups from the cupboard and set them on the island. “You thought I’d abused her. I would have reacted the same way.”
The time passed quickly as they sat in the kitchen, eating cookies and drinking coffee and catching up.
Too soon for his taste, Lucia stood, saying, “The boys will be home soon.” She gave him the mischievous smile he remembered from childhood and hadn’t seen in three long years. “But we expect to see you for Sunday dinner tomorrow. I have a feeling Mamá will fix all your favorites.”
His mother looked up at him, and his heart caught at the pleading look in her eyes. Begging forgiveness.
“Of course I’ll be there,” he said gently and kissed his mother’s cheek. He walked them to their car and helped his mother in.
“Raoul.” His sister waited beside the driver’s door. Pleased, he walked around to give her a final hug.
She returned it, then took an unhappy breath, one that made him tense. “One more unpleasantness; then we’ll put it behind us. This morning, I called Alicia’s sister. Penny’s been divorced for a while, ever since she found out Randolph was cheating on her.” Her mouth thinned. “She hadn’t known that the other woman was her own sister.”
“How did you hear that?” Raoul’s fingers clamped on her shoulders. Somehow they had the whole story—all of it. And to call Penny. “Lucia, that wasn’t—”
“Yes, it was necessary. I know you protect women, mi hermano. But, speaking as a woman, there are certain things I would want to know. A man’s cheating is…” She shrugged, having survived her own divorce. “But such a betrayal from a sister? There is no excuse under heaven. Alicia will find her family—and friends—to be less welcoming, I think.” Lucia patted his cheek. She’d worn the same smug smile after he’d used her Barbie dolls in his war games and she’d turned his prized comic books into cat litter in revenge. A firm believer in retribution was Lucia.
She added, “I felt much better after the call.” Another kiss on the cheek, and his sister slid into the car.
Women could be much crueler than men. Smiling a little, Raoul watched the sedan move down his long driveway. As he walked back into his house, his brows drew together. But he still wanted to know—how had they found out all the details of his divorce?
By one thirty that afternoon, the doorbell in Raoul’s house rang incessantly as people arrived for the barbecue. He shook his head, still amazed at how easily Z had manipulated him.
Everyone had wanted to celebrate Dan and Kari’s new baby. In many ways, it felt like the first for the Shadowlands Masters, even if some had children from previous marriages. Marcus and Gabi would have given the party, but Gabi wasn’t sure she’d be in town. Cullen’s home wasn’t large enough. Sam’s house was isolated in the country. Neither of the dommes could host the party. Z liked to entertain, but this time, he’d given an excuse and said Raoul had the space, a big patio and the beach, and was convenient to everyone.