Free The Twelve-Month Mistress by Kate Walker

things—that what he wanted was to spend the day with her—and say…
    But the voice at the other end of the line, although accented and deep, was not Joaquin’s.
    ‘Wrong brother, sweetheart,’ Ramón drawled lightly. ‘But I was looking for Joaquin, actually. Do I take it from your tone that he’s not there with you?’
    ‘No—no, he’s not.’
    And never likely to be again.
    The truth hit home with a shock that turned Cassie’s knees weak and had her sinking down onto the bed before they gave way completely.
    ‘He’s not here, Ramón. He went into work.’
    She had thought that she had controlled her voice well enough. That she had erased the betraying tremor, the faint shadow of tears. But not well enough. Something had given her away, and Ramón had caught it.
    ‘What’s wrong, Cassie?’ he demanded, his voice sharpening noticeably.
    Cassie smoothed her hand over the crumpled pillow where Joaquin’s dark head had rested just a short time before. The fine cotton was cool now, no heat from his bodyremaining, but the sheets still bore the lingering traces of the scent of his skin, and she inhaled hungrily, desperate to hold onto this one last physical memory of the man she loved.
    ‘Cassie?’ Ramón said again, more forcefully this time. ‘What’s happened?’
    ‘It’s—it’s over, Ramón…’
    She forced herself to say it though it tore at her heart, ripping it to shreds to hear the words aloud.
    ‘We’ve broken up. No longer together—I—I’m leaving him.’
    ‘What?’
    Ramón swore violently in explosive Spanish.
    ‘But I thought you guys were perfect together! Why the—? Oh—don’t tell me—Joaquin and his damn one-year rule again? Is that it?’
    ‘Something like that,’ Cassie said sadly. It was close enough to the truth and she really didn’t feel up to explaining the whole facts.
    ‘The man’s mad!’ Joaquin’s brother muttered. ‘Crazy! But, Cassie—don’t let him do this to you! You have to fight him…’
    ‘No!’ Cassie put in hastily, terrified that Ramón might make her want to weaken, that he might persuade her to stay. ‘It’s not Joaquin’s decision—it’s mine. I’m the one who’s leaving.’
    The silence at the other end of the phone line almost destroyed her. Ramón at a loss for words was as rare an event as Joaquin being in the same condition, and it was very nearly as devastating.
    ‘You?’
    ‘Joaquin was right, Ramón,’ Cassie put in hastily. ‘This relationship was only a one-year thing. We came to the end of the line—nowhere else to go.’
    Nowhere that Joaquin was prepared to go anyway, shetold herself miserably, refusing even to look at the hope of what might have been.
    ‘It’s over, finished. I’m moving out today. I just need to find somewhere to stay until—’
    Ramón didn’t allow her to finish her sentence.
    ‘I’ll be round at once,’ he said decisively, his tone making it clear there was no room for argument. ‘I’ll help you pack and then you can move in here with me.’

CHAPTER FIVE
    C OULD any week have lasted as long as this one? Cassie asked herself on a deep, despondent sigh as she poured herself a glass of cool, sparkling water, listening to the ice crackle as the liquid landed on top of it. Each day since she had left Joaquin and moved in to Ramón’s apartment had felt as if it had lasted a lifetime.
    A long, lonely, dreary, dragging lifetime. One that didn’t seem to get any better, no matter how many times she tried to convince herself that it would.
    And she had tried.
    Every single night, as the darkness fell and she lay awake in the big comfortable bed she had told herself that tomorrow was another day. That tomorrow would be better. That it had to be better. How could it be any worse?
    But each morning had dawned with the same dreary sense of dread, the same fearful anticipation of the long, weary hours that had to be got through until she could seek sanctuary in the darkness and the stillness