‘Taking over two hotels, turning them into something more visionary.’
Sofia thought that he must have been an extremely charismatic and dynamic guy, hence why her mother had fallen head over heels in love.
‘So...your father was close to him as well?’
‘My parents would have chosen David because they were probably in a hurry and needed someone to step into the role, if only to please my traditional grandparents. I suspect David worked as a godfather figure because he was based in the UK and available for babysitting duties while they busied themselves exploring anything and everything the universe had to offer. They were young, they were rich and they weren’t going to let a kid hold them back.’
Detecting a thread of bitterness beneath that flatly spoken statement, Sofia looked at him, her curiosity at fever pitch now. She felt as though, through a miniscule crack, she was seeing a sliver of this man that hinted at depths hitherto keep hidden, and that glimpse was sufficient to awaken a thirst to find out more.
She shouldn’t care, because they meant nothing to one another, but she found that she did.
The realisation filled her with a certain amount of unease, because curiosity was definitely not part of the package, but she couldn’t help herself.
‘So they travelled a lot,’ she murmured, in a voice that melded encouragement with mild interest. She smiled. ‘A bit like me, but I suppose the circumstances were slightly different. I expect they were probably travelling in style. Horse and carriage, where we were side-of-road and thumbs out.’
The grin returned. ‘You make me laugh, you know that? You’re also the master of understatement, Sofia.’
The lazy teasing in his voice brought colour to her cheeks and she smiled back at him. ‘Travelling in style would be a lot less arduous than taking pot luck wherever you happened to land.’
‘Oh, my parents travelled in style, all right.’
‘Did you enjoy the experience as much as I did?’ The sarcasm in her voice made him laugh.
‘I wasn’t dragged along in their wake, thankfully. They were about as responsible as a pair of kids without a care in the world, but they had the common sense to put me in a boarding school as soon as they feasibly could, and before that I was looked after, largely, by my grandparents.’
‘How old were you when you were sent to boarding school?’ she queried, unable to conceal her surprise.
‘Seven.’ Rafael’s dark eyes collided with her wide, green ones and he laughed with genuine amusement. ‘Are you about to tell me that you feel sorry for me? Don’t waste your breath. I was very happy there. I spent holidays with my grandparents and then, later on, with David after my grandparents emigrated to South Africa.’
‘And your parents?’
Rafael’s mouth thinned.
Was he even aware of the signals he gave off? Sofia wondered. Was he even aware of the message he was sending underneath the casual, indifferent front? She didn’t want to be sucked into his personality, the way she had been before she’d known who he really was, but she could feel her heart twisting when she thought about his circumstances as a child. In their different ways, they had both had to fight against the challenges they had been born into.
‘My parents were killed when I was thirteen. Light-aeroplane crash. My father had bought it and they were having fun up in the clouds when it went into a tailspin from which it couldn’t recover.’
‘I... I don’t know what to say. That’s awful. I’m so very sorry for you, Rafael.’
‘We’re here.’
Sofia glanced away from his stern, brooding face to see that they were, indeed, outside the sort of exclusive restaurant that barely had to announce itself because anybody who was anybody should know where it was.
The conversation had ended and she had no idea how to retrieve it, even though she wanted to.
He held her hand walking in, absently stroking her thumb with his finger, but she knew that that was just for effect because only David knew the truth. Everyone else had bought into the fairy-tale whirlwind romance. She knew that but there was still a second when it felt real, a real relationship with real hopes and dreams. She didn’t look at him but tentatively stroked his finger back and wondered whether she’d imagined it when he seemed to still for a fraction of a second.
Ahead of them, David had been positioned in his wheelchair at the long table and she saw, with a sinking heart, that there was an empty chair next to his, which she assumed was meant for her, with Rafael on the other side of her.
She barely had time to take in the rest of the people there. There was a handful. A couple of dozen at most. A no-fuss wedding which would have made complete sense to everyone there, given Rafael’s intensely private personality. A splashy affair, weirdly, would have had everyone peering through the net curtains and wondering what was going on.
Introductions were made. The room was entirely private so there were no prying eyes and Sofia knew that she was being assessed neutrally by everyone there: Rafael’s PA, three company directors, friends of David, several attractive, younger couples, friends of Rafael, and the pesky stepson, whose destiny was about to change thanks to this marriage of convenience.
Freddy’s blue eyes were narrowed and hostile but he didn’t say a word as she walked past him towards the chair that was waiting for her. So he had his doubts...? Would Rafael’s arm round her waist still those doubts? Did she look like a woman in love? Certainly, as Rafael’s hand sent heat pouring through her, she knew that she resembled a blushing bride, even if the blushing was for the wrong reasons!
It was almost a relief to sit, even though it was next to her father, and, with the conversation gradually resuming as waiters entered and began doing their thing, she reluctantly began paying attention to the guy with whom her mother had fallen crazily in love.
‘Just ignore the lot of them,’ he whispered, leaning towards her, and she was forced to lean towards him just to pick up what he was saying. ‘And, if you’re nervous, then the champagne is exquisite. Best money can buy. Well known for its calming qualities. I would be sampling some myself, but unfortunately my consultant has been gloomy in his warnings.’
Sofia sipped some champagne and sneaked a glance at her father, who was formally dressed in a suit and tie. He looked gaunt but his eyes were sharp. She could see the powerhouse behind the diminished exterior.
‘I don’t want to be here,’ she muttered, well aware that Rafael couldn’t hear a word she was saying, because he was distracted by the woman next to him. Instead of recoiling, David leant even closer towards her.
‘I know, my dear. It saddens me to think that the only reason you’re occupying that seat is because you have been generously paid to do so.’
Sofia flushed, knowing how that made her sound.
‘I’m no gold-digger,’ she interjected, leaning into him to make herself heard.
‘No one ever said you were, my dear. Money is always handy and, believe me, I don’t blame you in the slightest for taking what was on offer. You’d rather not have anything to do with me, I realise that, but I hope very much that you’ll give it a go.’
She had his nose. Straight and small. And she had the same shape of face—oval, where her mother’s had been girlishly elfin. Even without analysing it too much, she could see the strength of her father’s features in herself and it was disconcerting.
‘I’m only here because I didn’t have a choice,’ she said in a low, defensive tone, hating the fact that this man might think that she was just another money-grabbing stranger happy to do something she resented because she wanted money in her bank account. That she was willing to sell her pride for the sake of hard cash.
‘My godson can be very persuasive.’
‘Your godson is a pain in the ass.’ She pictured that dark, sinfully seductive face and scowled. Next to her, David wheezed with sudden mirth and t
hen promptly drank some water to subdue the resulting coughing fit.
‘Tell that to his face, and he might die of shock because no one will ever have said that to him before.’
‘That’s a shame,’ Sofia retorted tartly, finally paying attention to the delicate titbits on her plate, a selection of mouth-watering tiny pastries with exotic fillings. ‘If someone had, then maybe he wouldn’t be so...so...arrogant and infuriating.’ She flashed a sideways glance at her father who looked right back at her, speculatively.
‘So you’re not here because of Rafael’s powers of persuasion...’
‘My aunt needs financial assistance,’ Sofia confessed. They were in a huddle. Heaven only knew, they must look like long-lost friends to outside eyes. ‘My cousin, Miguel, was injured in an accident when he was sixteen and she’s never had the money to properly care for him. That’s why I’m here. That’s the only reason I’m here.’ She dug into the food. Yes, she had been harsh in stating the truth, but life was harsh.
‘I didn’t know,’ David murmured mildly.
‘Why would you? Oh, yes, I remember. You had me checked out.’
She slanted a sideways glare at him, ready to go into battle with this guy she had no time for, even if it meant rousing Rafael’s displeasure, but David was once again smiling.
‘Best thing I ever did.’ He chortled. ‘You’re a tonic, my dear girl, a tonic.’ He turned to face the assembled crowd and banged his fork sharply on the table until everyone fell silent.
‘To the married couple,’ he toasted, raising his glass. ‘I dare say a sip of champagne for the toast won’t kill me! And I thankfully don’t have my consultant here to argue the point.’ Laughter greeted this and Sofia couldn’t help smiling. He looked at her slyly and winked. ‘Let’s raise our glasses to my very dear Rafael and his beautiful wife and my daughter, Sofia, away for too long but here now to stay. Long may they be happily united!’
Sofia tried not to choke on her champagne and when she caught Rafael’s eye it was to see that he was trying hard not to burst out laughing.
CHAPTER SIX
THE LUNCH LASTED three hours, at the end of which Sofia had drunk far too much champagne. Nervous tension had not mixed well with the alcohol, and as she waited kerbside with Rafael for his driver to show up the thought of taking a train back to the cottage was almost unthinkable. She felt sick.
‘Congratulations.’ Rafael, having dispatched the last of the guests, turned to her with a wry expression.
‘For what?’
‘You made my godfather laugh. Don’t know what you were saying, but whatever it was it was doing the trick.’
He channelled her into the back seat of the Range Rover and then angled his body so that he was looking right at her, his long legs loosely sprawled, his hands resting lightly on his thighs.
‘I wasn’t cracking any jokes.’
Restless and excruciatingly aware of him sitting so close to her, she anxiously twisted the rings round and round her finger, choosing to stare through the window of the car rather than look at him, but she was all too conscious of this drop-dead gorgeous guy next to her, all too alert of the way her body had reacted when he had touched it.
She was married and, even if it was a marriage in name alone, her blood still thickened with inexplicable heat at the thought.
Marriage was the one thing her mother had craved and never managed to attain. All things considered, she didn’t think her mother would have been whooping with joy on behalf of her daughter. A marriage of convenience would not have sat well with a woman who’d believed in romance and fairy tales, even if none of them had managed to come true for her.
She slid her eyes across at him and her pulses quickened. Her brain wanted to box this up and neatly label it as the business deal it was, but her body wasn’t falling into line. Her body was too aware of the ring on her finger and all the grey areas that highlighted.
Looking down, she was startled when she felt the light brush of Rafael’s finger under her chin.
‘Look at me,’ he encouraged softly.
‘What?’ She jerked back but their eyes locked, and she found she couldn’t tear her gaze away.
She’d ended up paying little attention to him during the meal. She’d been conscious of him, but her father had consumed her attention. Now, Rafael, her husband, seemed to suck the oxygen out of the atmosphere, leaving her breathless and acutely aware of his intense, smouldering masculinity.
The other guests—stepbrother, with whom she had barely exchanged a glance, aside—had been young and attractive. Several of the women had been attached to typical corporate-looking types and had been effusive and welcoming, eager to please the man who made sure their husbands were handsomely paid. Others, like the striking, dark-skinned woman who’d sat next to Rafael, with whom he had been discussing business for most of the meal, had clearly been colleagues.
‘You did well. If you were nervous, then you did a good job of hiding it.’
‘Isn’t that part and parcel of the game we’re playing?’ She looked at him, hating herself, because she knew that there had been instances when it had felt way too real for comfort.
And she knew why. Scratch the surface and you’d find a woman still yearning to touch her forbidden husband.
She sighed and gave him a clear-eyed gaze. ‘I was nervous. David...all those people...not to mention Freddy.’
‘Forget Freddy for the moment. He’s a parasite and a nuisance and will be sorted. As for David...he wants that bond and, whether you were cracking jokes or not, you were letting him in even if it may not have seemed that way to you.’
Sofia reddened and her eyes skittered away. How could he be so nice, so...perceptive...and yet at times so coolly remote?
‘I’m not looking for a bond with anyone, least of all someone who’s never been part of my life,’ she tried, in the guise of a spirited argument to quell that side of her that seemed so foolishly susceptible to the glimpses she kept getting of a guy who could still get under her skin and stay there.
‘Stop looking for an argument, Sofia. We’re going to be...’ his mouth quirked, and again that glimpse of humour that could thread past the defences she knew she should be mounting ‘husband and wife for the foreseeable future. We need to get along...like husband and wife.’ He tilted his head and looked levelly back at her.
‘We’ll be leading separate lives. That’s what you said. We won’t even be sharing the same space.’
He had the most incredible eyes. So deep and dark, glittering with a hard, steely edge that was somehow chilling and sinfully sexy at the same time.
‘We will tonight.’
‘Will what?’
‘Be sharing the same space. We’re going back to my place.’
‘I don’t want to do that.’
‘Yes, you do.’ He raised his eyebrows and stared at her. ‘You drank quite a bit back there in the restaurant. Are you telling me that you fancy the thought of trekking back to the cottage?’
‘You were paying attention to how much I drank?’ Her stomach heaved and she breathed in deeply. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale.
‘I’m your husband. Of course I was. Right now, I’d say you’re looking a little green round the gills. How much did you eat?’
‘Not a lot.’ Sofia settled resentful green eyes on him but his crooked half-smile was disarming. ‘What did you expect? I was sitting next to...next to...’
‘You can say it.’
‘Next to David. Eating and enjoying the food was the last thing on my mind.’
‘You were nervous. Like I said. Hence my remark that you did well today. My godfather hasn’t looked so energised in a while.’
‘If he was energised, then it wasn’t something I deliberately set out to achieve.’
‘It’s not the road you walk but the fact that you get there,’ Rafael dr
awled. ‘But back to you. You’ve barely eaten and you’ve probably drunk a lot more than you’re accustomed to. Dispatching you back to the cottage to fend for yourself isn’t on the cards. Besides...shouldn’t the blushing bride spend the first night in the same county as her newly acquired husband at the very least?’
‘Ha-ha, hilarious.’ She rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes for a few seconds. When she glanced sideways at him, it was to find his dark eyes resting on her face and she flushed.
She deliberately held her hand out and reminded herself that the ring on her finger was worth as much as she would have got in a year of dutiful nannying. Business transaction, she told herself. Keep it real.
‘Very nice,’ Rafael drawled, and he took her hand in his and looked at the ring, which made her heartily wish she hadn’t drawn attention to it in the first place.
‘All in a day’s work,’ she responded, quick as a flash, and he burst out laughing and dropped her hand.
It burned and tingled where he had briefly held it.
‘You don’t give in, do you, cara?’ His eyes rested on her face. He was still grinning. ‘A man could either be scared of that or turned on by it.’
Which are you? The question sizzled in her brain before she accepted that he was just teasing, playing a game, definitely not flirting.
‘Can I ask you something?’ Her voice was hurried and breathless in her eagerness to change the subject and escape the frantic tug of unwanted sensations flitting through her like quicksilver.
‘Fire away.’
‘You said you wanted to lead a single life, a discreet single life...so is there anyone waiting in the wings for you now that this marriage is out of the way?’ She thought of the eager-to-please English roses and wondered if those were his type.
He looked momentarily staggered and she fuzzily thought, Why the big show of ruffled feathers when you lied to me about who you really were and what you really wanted? Since when do liars have any right to look shocked at being asked whether they were having an affair with a married woman? It felt strangely comforting to be antagonistic.
Shock Marriage for the Powerful Spaniard Page 9
