Modern Romance Collection: November 2017 Books 5 - 8

She pushed it aside. ‘We have no other option, Raul, so when you have decided which way to proceed, perhaps you will be good enough to let me know.’ She stood up and began to walk away, aware of him behind her, tossing notes onto their table and following her.

She didn’t wait. She walked into the plaza, wanting only to get away from him.

‘I am not accustomed to women walking away from me,’ he stated harshly as he caught up with her. Did he expect her to bend to his wishes, do his bidding exactly as he wanted? No, she would never do that. She’d seen her own mother do it and then seen her leave, unable to tolerate the bullying regime any longer; she hadn’t even cared that she was leaving behind her daughter. It had been her grandmother who’d looked after her from then on.

She stopped to look up at Raul, an uncomfortable thought settling over her. For the first time in her life she wondered if she too should have been the required heir or even the much-sought-after son. Had she been a disappointment and let-down to both her parents when she’d arrived? A daughter neither of them had wanted?

Suddenly her childhood made so much more sense. Bitterness swept over her and she responded, lashing out at the man who’d brought such a realisation about.

‘Well you are about to find out what it’s like. I’m not staying here whilst you dither about just who you want to help with finding your brother. It seems to me you would rather marry than find him. What are you afraid of, Raul? Sharing your inheritance?’

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her close against him, looking directly into her eyes. For a brief moment she thought she saw desire combined with the anger her words had induced. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest, his closeness invading every sense in her body as drops of rain began to unceremoniously fall.

He didn’t care about the rain, or that they were quickly getting wet, instead he looked into her eyes, his breath as hard and fast as hers. Did he feel that powerful attraction too? The same attraction she was fighting? She couldn’t allow him to know what he did to her.

‘Let me go,’ she demanded fiercely, wanting only to hide the spark of something very close to desire that had leapt to life inside her, despite the dousing by the rain.

She couldn’t break eye contact as the rain began to fall harder; locals and tourists alike sought refuge inside the buildings of the plaza, but she couldn’t move. It was as if he’d cast a spell, fixed her to the spot. She couldn’t walk away, didn’t want to move.

He let her hand go, but remained so very close, looming over her like a matador, and to her horror she still couldn’t move, couldn’t back away from him. Around them the plaza had emptied, the noise of the pre-Christmas parties replaced by the constant thud of rain onto the now soaked bricks and cobbles of the plaza. She could feel him so very close, feel the heat of his body, smell his masculine scent. For goodness’ sake, she could even taste his kiss, taste what it would be like to have his lips pressed against hers.

Her hair was beginning to stick to her head, her jacket to her skin. She began to shiver, but she wasn’t cold. Far more powerful sensations were racing round her body. Raul pulled off his jacket, his eyes locked on hers all the time as he placed it round her shoulders. It made it worse. She could smell him around her, feel his heat caressing her, and as the rain quickly soaked him his shirt became tantalisingly transparent, serving only to heighten his strength and masculinity—not to mention her barely veiled desire to be kissed by him.

Before she knew what she was doing or had time to think of the implications of such actions, she’d moved closer still. It was all the invitation he’d needed and within seconds she was in his arms, her own wrapped around his neck as his lips, hard and demanding, claimed hers. Her wet body clung to his, the sensation of being against him so wildly sensual as the rain continued to fall on them that she couldn’t help the sigh of pleasure escaping.

His husky whisper in Spanish only added to the electrifying moment and she couldn’t stop herself pressing closer still, feeling every hard contour of his body against hers.

Then sense prevailed. What was she doing? Kissing the one man she shouldn’t kiss. Her enemy. What was the matter with her?

‘That,’ she breathed heavily as she pulled back from him and out of his arms, the rain still pounding down around them. ‘That was not part of our deal.’

‘Yet you can’t maintain you didn’t want me to kiss you, can you, querida?’

She shook her head as he continued. ‘In fact, it was you who started it, you who moved towards me. What is a man meant to do when a woman like you kisses him? Stand there and not move?’

‘I am not your querida.’ She hurled the words at him, glaring accusingly as her heart thumped and her body pulsed with need.

‘So you have said.’

‘I don’t want anything from you, Raul, and especially not a kiss. All you need to do is find out if your mother has any idea who it was your father had an affair with.’ Desperate to rid her body of the heat that surged powerfully through it after that explosive kiss, she pulled off his jacket, allowing the rain to cool her, to dampen the desire she hadn’t been able to fight.

‘That may not be easy.’ He glared at her, obviously fighting the same desire as she was. A man like Raul Valdez, who had a reputation for being as ruthless a lover as a businessman, surely wouldn’t have to fight the attraction.

‘Marrying you won’t be easy either.’ She spoke the truth, but now those words came from a different place than they had done when she’d first met him. She hadn’t known then just how lethal a kiss from him could be.

‘Very well,’ he said as he looked down at her, raindrops falling from his hair, making her want to reach up and push it back from his forehead. ‘I will arrange for you to meet my mother. And now I suggest we go and get dry—separately.’

‘Absolutely separately. There won’t be a repeat of this. Of that much I can assure you.’

CHAPTER FIVE

THE LAST THING Lydia had expected was Raul to announce they were going away for the weekend and to be driven out of Madrid, into the countryside. Even more of a shock was the fact that he had relented and agreed to take her to see his mother. In the short time she’d spent with Raul, Lydia knew he didn’t do anything on a whim. Everything had a purpose. So what was this visit all about?

The question lingered in her mind until finally, after what had felt like hours of driving, due to the tension filling the car, he turned off the road. The car tyres scrunched over the gravel drive of a country villa, typically Spanish in every way. Not at all like the grandeur of his Madrid penthouse apartment.

‘This is nice,’ she said lightly as he turned off the engine, silence filling the car, blending with that ever-present tension as he looked at her. She’d been acutely aware of his presence next to her, of every move he’d made as he’d driven first on the busy roads away from the city and then to the quieter and smaller roads through farmland, interspersed with villages.

‘My weekend retreat,’ he offered as he got out of the car. She watched him walk around the front of it and towards her door, rebelliously enjoying the view of his long legs and lean body encased, as always, in a suit, which did little to hide his strength. Memories of how it had felt to be pressed against his body as rain had soaked them rushed back at her, adding to the air of expectancy zinging between them.

Aware he would think she was waiting for him to open her door, she quickly did so herself and slipped out of the low sports car. Standing outside in the fresh air of winter, she expected to feel less intimidated by him, but after the previous night and the kiss that had set fire to her whole body she was anything but. There wasn’t any escape from the attraction, no relief from the sizzle of tension now.

She couldn’t allow herself to be drawn in by it—by him. She had to keep in mind his motives for bringing her to Spain, to this romantic villa. It was purely money and wealth that drove him; not the need to find a brother he’d never known of, purely money. He might have all the trappings of wealth, but other than that he was no different from Daniel, wanting her for what she had, not who she really was.

‘And your mother lives here?’ She hoped the question was light and casual, belying the turmoil in her mind, but the look he fired her way was far from that. It was cold and calculating. Distanced yet intense.

‘No, she lives about half an hour’s drive into the hills.’

So she was alone with him again and this time there wouldn’t be an office to escape to. ‘I see.’

‘You made yourself perfectly clear last night, Lydia. You have nothing to fear from being here with me.’ The brusqueness of his voice backed up his words and she tried not to be disappointed as a small reckless part of her wanted him to kiss her again—and much more. She pushed that woman aside. She had to remain strong and as detached as he evidently was. It was the only way.

‘So we are here purely to see your mother?’

‘Sí. Did you think I had ulterior motives for bringing you here?’ Raul’s dark eyes fixed her to the spot, but the haughty façade she lived behind served her well.

‘Only to increase your wealth.’

He stepped towards her, but she stood firm, retained her cool composure. ‘All I want, Lydia, is for you to find my brother. Then I can secure the future of the company by settling the extortionate debts your father has run up and move forward in my life.’

Before she could register his words, he turned and walked towards the door of the villa. Deep within her, hidden expertly away, she trembled with shock. It might be her father’s debts he wanted repaid, but he’d just confirmed he was no better than either his father or hers. This was all about greed.

He opened the door and stepped back for her to enter the villa, which was not at all what she’d expected of this hard and dominating businessman. This was more like a home. It was comfortable and welcoming, not a sleek modern angle in sight. It was the kind of place she would choose, the kind of place to finally put down roots.

Her early years had been spent moving from one house to the next. She’d never had time to settle, time to make friends before the family was on the move again. Then, if that wasn’t unsettling enough, her mother had left her with her father. Luckily her grandmother had stepped in and her father had been all too ready to allow her to live with her grandmother, the only time she’d felt she belonged.

She pushed away that yearning need to make a place a home, to actually belong somewhere, and focused her attention on the reason for being here in the first place. To ensure her grandmother didn’t find out just how low her own son had sunk.

‘Then I suggest the sooner I can speak with your mother, the better. Time is ticking away and as I have no intention at all of marrying you in three weeks’ time I want my father’s debt settled.’ She tried to hide her see-sawing emotions and appear as calm as he was, watching as he moved around the villa, looking out of place in his smart suit. The ruthless businessman she’d come to know didn’t fit here at all.

‘You will not ask her anything directly.’ Raul’s firm voice snapped in the air around them like the first clap of thunder as a storm broke.

‘Then how am I supposed to fulfil my part of the deal?’ What was he trying to hide or, more to the point, what didn’t he want her to know?

‘My parents’ marriage was an arranged one and even as a young child I sensed the undercurrent of dislike between her and my father. They barely tolerated one another.’ Each word was emotionless and matter-of-fact. Exactly how she would describe her childhood and attempt to hide the hurt emotions of the child that still remained. Was Raul hurting too? Could it be that he was more capable of emotions than he wanted her to believe?

‘That is a scenario I am familiar with.’ She dropped the words in casually as she looked around the villa, liking it more with each passing second.

He looked at her as he walked across the room and opened doors to the terrace, the cool air of winter rushing in, fresh and stimulating. When his eyes met hers seconds later, that mask of indifference was well and truly in place. ‘My father led a double life, Lydia. For eight years he had two families.’

When she didn’t speak he continued, ‘I was sent to boarding school from a very young age and never knew family life. When I came home it was to hostilities and stand-offs. Then one day he was gone. So although I assume my mother knows all about the affairs my father had after that, as well as the mistress he’d lived with and had a family with alongside ours, I would rather she didn’t have to face it head-on.’

‘Fine,’ she said as she watched him, tall and powerful against the backdrop of the rural room of the villa. ‘I will find a way to enquire about Max without being too obvious.’

‘You will also leave her in no doubt that we are lovers. I don’t want her to find out what my father has done—ever.’

‘Why did he do it? Set the terms of his will like that?’

‘He obviously thought I was like him and that I would not tolerate sharing the success of the business with anyone. I suspect he thought I would find an enforced marriage more preferable.’ The bitterness in his voice was clear, but deep down she didn’t believe he was like that.

He looked at her, his eyes locking with hers for a moment, then walked out through the open doors onto a terrace that boasted a pool, covered now for the colder winter months, and, beyond that, stunning views of the countryside.

She watched as he walked across the terrace, saw the tension in his shoulders when he stood with his back to her, rigid and upright; sympathy filled her. She knew what it was like to grow up in a home where parents didn’t even know the meaning of the word marriage, let alone love. Such an upbringing had made her yearn for love and happiness, a desire that had led to one disastrous relationship and now this, a fake engagement. Would she ever find love? Did it really exist?

‘Won’t it hurt your mother more when she finds out our relationship is fake?’ She walked out onto the terrace, the chill of the afternoon making her shiver. Or was it the coldness coming from the man who’d kissed her so passionately she’d nearly gone up in flames?

‘That is a risk I am prepared to take.’ He turned to face her, the set of his jaw hard and angular. ‘I’d rather she thinks my engagement failed when we go back to our lives than learn the full extent of my father’s deceit and treachery.’

‘As you wish.’

‘It goes without saying that whatever you discover must never become common knowledge, something which you agreed to adhere to in the contract.’ He turned to face her, hard lines of worry on his brow. He still didn’t trust her, even though she was doing this to clear her name and her father’s debts.

‘You don’t trust me at all, do you?’

‘I never trust anyone, Lydia. Trust is like love—an empty word that people pretend to believe in.’

‘Do you really believe that?’ She couldn’t believe the venom of his words.

‘I do, but I have no wish to discuss it.’ He walked from the room and she knew he meant it; the discussion was over. She only hoped his mother was easier to talk to. The sooner she found out the name his brother might be using, the sooner she could walk away from Raul and his unyielding presence.

* * *

By the time they had finished the meal with his mother later that evening, Raul was beginning to think that maybe he could trust Lydia. For the entire evening she’d put on a brilliant show of being his fiancée. She’d acted to perfection the part of a woman who loved him and wanted to be with him for the rest of her life. She’d even convinced his mother that their chance meeting just a short while ago was lovers’ fate as she’d excitedly shown her the engagement ring.

‘I never thought I would see the day my son fell in love.’ His mother’s words, said in heavily accented English. Her enthusiasm for their happiness grated on his conscience and guilt nudged at him for the lies he had told her and the lies still yet to come. He’d told Lydia he’d rather his mother think their romance had ended than know the truth, but now, seeing the happiness on her face, he wasn’t so sure.

‘When is the wedding?’ his mother asked as she sipped at her wine.

‘Christmas Eve.’ Despite Lydia’s subtle scrutiny, he managed to say it calmly, but didn’t miss the question on his mother’s face.

‘Why the rush?’ For a moment she grappled with her limited English.

He took Lydia’s hand and looked into her eyes. ‘I met the woman I love. Why wait?’

Lydia held his gaze, blushing prettily and very convincingly, then smiled up at him. A warm smile that lit up her eyes, sending those sparks of lust hurtling through him once more as memories of their kiss in the rain surfaced.

‘We want to be married and, as neither of us wants a big fancy affair with lots of guests, Christmas Eve seemed perfect.’

‘Then you are not...?’ His mother’s question died away as he turned his attention to her, pulling Lydia close against him.

‘No. Goodness.’ Lydia laughed and the relief on his mother’s face shocked him. Did she suspect there was more to this engagement than love? Worse still, did she somehow know what his father had done with his will? She might have been a distant figure in his childhood, thanks to his father’s influence, but she was still his mother and that counted for something at least. He had no wish to hurt her.