Raul's Revenge

by Jacqueline Baird

  Finally they flagged down a taxi, and tumbled out of it at the entrance to their old apartment decidedly in­toxicated and laughing hysterically for no reason they could remember. Amy passed out on the sofa in the living room and Penny, with greatest difficulty, managed to find a blanket and cover her friend before falling asleep fully dressed in her old bedroom. No thought of re­turning to Raul's apartment entered her head.

  The raucous ringing of a bell broke through Penny's hazed mind. What the hell? she thought, and rolled over on her back. 'Oh, my head,' she groaned aloud, looking around the room with some puzzlement until the events of the previous evening penetrated her sleep-fogged brain.

  She lay where she was, trying to gather the energy to get up. At least the ringing had stopped, she thought gratefully, then winced as the sound of a door opening and closing ricocheted through her head like a rifle shot. She closed her eyes and was on the brink of dozing off again when a cheerful voice shouted, 'Coffee, sleepyhead.'

  Penny opened her eyes to see Amy, fully dressed in a smart grey suit, grinning down at her. 'What time is it?' she murmured, sitting up. She accepted the mug of coffee from Amy's hand, took a large gulp of the steaming brew, and felt it hit her stomach like a lead balloon.,

  'Eight; unlike you, I have to be at work for nine. How do you feel?'

  'I'll ring you tomorrow and tell you. It will take me that long to recover.'

  'Rubbish. Now I've got to dash, but you take your time and give me a call tonight if you're free. But, if Raul arrives, don't forget what you decided last night. Positive action, confidence—ask the man. If he is half the man you say he is, I'll take a bet that all this pining and heart-searching will be over.'

  Amy made it all seem so simple, Penny thought, and smiled at her friend. 'Don't worry; you have convinced me. I'm going to propose to Raul at the first oppor­tunity. Satisfied?'

  'Now, that is the Penny I know and love,' Amy res­ponded, with a wicked grin. 'And don't forget I am number-one choice for bridesmaid.'

  The smile left Penny's face as soon as Amy left the room. Putting the almost full mug of coffee down on the bedside table, she swung her feet to the floor and made straight for the bathroom. She was going to take Amy's advice, but for her own reasons...

  Penny sighed as she shut off the water and stepped out of the shower onto the mat. She had no idea if Raul had called last night, and Mrs. Grimble's disapproving look when Penny had arrived back at the apartment at one in the afternoon had not been reassuring. The older woman had already seen that none of the beds in the penthouse apartment had been slept in.

  Still, Raul would no doubt call tonight, and, con­soling herself with that thought, she dried and dressed casually in blue jeans and a soft cream cashmere sweater, then headed for the kitchen and something to eat.

  After a light meal—a plain omelette and salad—she strolled back into the vast living area. One wall was completely covered by a large bookcase. She ran her hand along a shelf and picked out the latest Jeffrey Archer and settled down on the soft green velvet sofa positioned along one side of the fireplace, and, curving her bare feet beneath her, began to read. Moments later the late night took its toll and she was fast asleep.

  'Where the hell have you been?'

  Penny's eyes flew open in shock; a large male hand was shaking her shoulder and the words only dimly penetrated her sleep-hazed mind. The book fell from hen hand and she struggled up from her reclining position.;

  'Raul, you're here,' she murmured softly, the begin­nings of a smile pulling the corners of her wide mouth. It was so good to see him again...

  'Pity you could not say the same last night.'

  She looked up, wide awake now. 'Raul!' And it dawned on her that he was nowhere near as happy to see her as she was him, and her smile died.

  He leaned against the arm of the sofa, a dark, un­smiling figure, his formal clothes oddly dishevelled—his white shirt open at the neck, his black striped tie pulled askew.

  'Don't bother to deny it, Penny,' he said, his voice bitingly sardonic. 'I called you every hour from mid-night onwards.'

  So that was what was bothering him; she gave an inward sigh of relief. 'I can explain.' She slipped her feet to the floor and briefly glanced down at where her book lay on the carpet.

  Raul bent down, his long-fingered hands picking it up. 'Twelve Red Herrings' he drawled. 'How appro­priate; been looking for an excuse, hmm?'

  He straightened and thrust his hands into his trouser pockets, squaring his shoulders. 'If you want to leave me, you only have to say so.' He sounded coldly remote, as though he didn't care a jot either way. 'I have no hold over you, but I would appreciate being informed of your movements, instead of wasting my precious time chasing over half of Europe to find out where you are.'

  She flushed deeply. His precious time? How like Raul. His arrogance never ceased to amaze her, and right now it was making her madder than hell. She had agonised for days over the man, and he had the gall to stand in front of her and casually tell her that she could leave him. She could have thumped him.

  'Sorry,' she drawled sarcastically. 'I wasn't aware I was supposed to check in every night. As it happened, I spent the evening with Amy,' she began to explain, but didn't get the chance to continue.

  'All night, Penny? What do you take me for? A com­plete fool? I found you laying here asleep in the middle of the afternoon.'

  ‘We-'

  'Was he a good lover?' he snarled furiously, his hands failing to her shoulders, and, gripping tightly, he hauled her unceremoniously to her feet. 'Did he make you whimper and cry out as I do?' he demanded, his fingers biting into her skin, the venom in his expression fright­ening in its intensity. 'Did you whisper the same sweet lying words of love to him as you did to me?'

  'No, Raul...' she denied, stricken by the force of his rage. 'You must know—'

  'Know what? That you look flushed and exhausted, exactly as you do after making love all night? You forget I'm the one that taught you all you know. I can read the signs on your lying, lovely face; I've put them there so many times myself.'

  'You bastard,' she hissed, her face scarlet; she had never, ever spoken to him like that before in their re­lationship but the injustice of his accusation made her see red.

  'I spent the night with Amy because I was too drunk to come home, and I was too drunk because I was drowning my sorrows over you.' She stared at him, her eyes wild in her flushed face. 'And you know why? Be­cause you treat me like some mindless bimbo with no will of my own.' A harsh laugh escaped her. 'Amy was—'

  'Amy. I might have known,' he said tightly. 'She has never liked me. I suppose it was her idea for you to stay out all night?'

  'We were home by eleven—hardly all night,' she spat back.

  Raul stared into her flashing blue eyes. 'Why you listen to that woman I will never know.' He shook his dark head, as though to dispel some unpleasant thought.

  The rage draining out of him, he raised a hand from her shoulder and closed his eyes for a second, nipping the bridge of his nose with finger and thumb before adding, 'I'm tired. I'm sorry. I believe you and forgive you.' His deep voice thickened and he stroked a long finger down her smooth cheek, his eyes lingering on her slightly parted lips with sensual anticipation.

  She tried to speak but her breath caught in her throat. Her heart was thudding in her breast and suddenly she felt sick. As quickly as his anger had come it had van­ished, but she could not hide her hurt so easily.

  'Just never give me a shock like that again,' Raul husked. His hand gentled on her shoulders and slid down to curve around her waist; his eyes deepened to a slum­brous, sexy black and his dark head bent to kiss her.

  Penny was incredulous and furious. She looked up into his face, at the five o'clock shadow on his hard jaw, and wondered if she had ever known him. She jerked away from him, catching him by surprise.

  'That's it, is it? You forgive me, after branding me little better than a whore,' she derided. 'Well, thank you,
Raul; you have such faith in me I am quite over­whelmed. Maybe I should kneel at your feet and pay homage to your magnanimity.'

  'Hush, Penny.' He held out his hand. 'Come on, it was a genuine mistake; I was worried about you.'

  She looked at his outstretched hand and up into his handsome face, and out of nowhere came the thought, How worried? Worried enough to marry her? Amy's idea suddenly didn't seem quite so outrageous. She could put her hand in his and in minutes they would be in bed together. She wanted to but she wanted a whole lot more! She deserved a whole lot more! she thought suddenly, seeing an image of the future, with herself as Raul's sex slave and not much else.

  Raul stepped closer, one large hand tilting her chin. 'No more argument, Penny. I was wrong and I'm sorry; put it down to pure male frustration. I've missed you, querida.'

  Her heart said yes and she raised her hands to his chest, but her head said something else.

  She ran her hands up and down his shirt-front, feeling the hard-packed muscle beneath with delight, but as she swayed towards him she hesitated. 'Do you know what year it is, Raul?'

  'Around you I hardly know what day it is. You have this shocking effect on me,' he teased softly, and, catching one of her small hands in his, he trailed it down his muscular thigh.

  She swallowed a lump in her throat, her heart pounding beneath her breastbone as her fingers touched the hard, aroused length of him beneath the fine wool of his trousers. He wanted her, she knew, and—dear heaven!—she wanted him, but...

  'It's leap year, Raul. Will you marry me?' she got out in a breathless rush. Tilting her head back, she stared up at him, her wide blue eyes sparkling with love and hope while her small hands nervously caressed his fam­iliar solid form. A second later she was pushed back­wards onto the sofa with a resounding thump, all the air whooshing out of her lungs in a rush.

  She didn't know what had hit her, but, glancing up into Raul's furious face, she had a good idea. 'Hardly the response I expected,' she gulped. 'Unless, of course, you intend to join me on the sofa.' She tried to joke, but inside she was filled with a deepening dread.

  'Now I get it,' he laughed mirthlessly. 'The arguments of the last few weeks, the defiance, and then the grand finale—staying out all night. What kind of fool do you take me for, Penny?'

  'No, Raul.' She wished with all her heart that she had kept her mouth shut, and, pulling herself up to a sitting position, her blue eyes fixed on his rugged face, she lifted a tentative hand to touch his thigh.

  He glanced down at her, one dark brow lifted in cynical amusement, before he casually knocked her hand from his leg and stepped back. 'Did you really think depriving me of your sexy body on our last night in Spain and then trying to make me jealous would work?' he drawled mockingly. 'Better women than you have tried to man­ipulate me into marriage and failed. You're good, but you're not that good, Penny.'

  His comment was like a knife in her heart. She wanted to curl up with the pain but she didn't; her pride would not let her. For a long, tense moment she simply stared at him. His black hair was dishevelled and falling over his broad brow, his dark eyes were stony, as was the stubborn jut of his jaw. She let her gaze roam over him— the tanned column of his throat, the broad chest and lean hips. He was standing, feet apart, hands stuck in his trouser pockets, all virile, powerful male.

  'I take it that was a no,' she got out between clenched teeth. And, rising to her feet, she would have brushed past him, but he stopped her, a hand on her arm.

  'Correct, honey. If and when I take a wife, I will do the asking. No little girl will trap me into marriage. I am far too old to be caught that easy,' he said icily.

  Penny wanted to lie down and die, but anger came to her aid. For months she had loved this man, given him everything, loved him unconditionally, because in her foolish heart she had thought he felt the same. What a naive idiot she was, she thought bitterly. What had he said? She was good, but not that good.

  'You're right of course; you are too old; I should have realised sooner,' she retaliated, hoping to hurt him just a fraction of how much he had hurt her. She felt his fingers tighten angrily on her arm.

  'Nice try, Penny, but insulting me will not make me change my mind,' he gritted.

  'Take your hand off me,' she said flatly, her glance resting on the large, strong hand wrapped around her arm. And for the first time since meeting Raul his touch had no effect on her.

  'The hands-off policy is hardly going to persuade me to marry you,' Raul laughed harshly, and, spinning her around, held her hard against his strong body. 'And I know you, querida; you can't say no.' Bending his head, he feathered his lips across hers.

  She trembled helplessly, long before the fiery heat of his mouth melded passionately with her own. She wanted to be immune but she had not the strength to deny him. It was the heaven she longed for but it was also the hell of complete humiliation.

  He played her like a violin. His hand roamed her slender form with a sophisticated expertise against which she had no defence. His hard thighs pressed against her soft curves, moving rhythmically, stating his male dom­inance, forcing her to accept his sensual superiority. She shivered violently, yet she felt as if fire, not blood flowed through her veins.

  With a husky laugh Raul set her free and stepped back, his smile mocking her pathetic capitulation to his assault on her senses. 'Forget trying to manipulate me, Penny. You will never win; your body gives you away every time,' he drawled with silky emphasis, his glittering eyes deliberately lowering to her breasts, where her nipples were outlined betrayingly against the soft wool of her sweater, before returning triumphantly to her flushed face.

  Penny had never raised a hand to anyone in her life before. But, seeing the smug triumph in his dark eyes, the arrogant stance of his long body, she lost control completely. All the pain and humiliation flooded her brain and, without thought, she lifted her hand and smacked him hard across his self-satisfied face.

  'Forget? I intend to forget,' she spat at him, her blue eyes flashing, hating him. 'Forget I ever met you.' She noticed the look of stunned shock in his dark eyes and wanted to laugh, but she didn't get the chance.

  Raul's face flushed with violent rage. 'You bitch!' he snarled, and, clamping her to him, he ground his mouth down on hers in a bitter travesty of a kiss.

  He plundered her mouth like a man possessed. She felt no pleasure, just dull acceptance, and when he finally pushed her away from him she swayed unsteadily, lifting a trembling hand to brush her swollen lips.

  'You asked for that,' Raul said harshly. 'You deli­berately provoked me, Penny, but it will not work. If you want to go, go...'

  'Go,' he had said—this from the man who a few short weeks ago in Dubai, after a tumultuous coupling, had sworn that he adored her and that she could ask any­thing of him and he would give it to her. Lies. All lies...

  She watched him in bitter, hostile silence for a moment. He had withdrawn behind a cold mask of in­difference, his dark eyes blank, expressionless. She had her answer. Raul did not love her. Never had...

  'I think that will be best,' she said in a cold, dead voice, and, slowly turning away, she added, 'I'm going to pack.'

  'Wait, Penny.'

  She turned, a brief flicker of hope in her heart. She searched his hard face for some sign of regret. But there was nothing.

  'Don't forget this.' Raul withdrew from his pocket a glittering bracelet. ‘I found it in the bedroom of our hotel in Dubai after you had left. I was waiting for you to realise you had lost it but obviously you were not im­pressed by the gift.'

  She automatically reached out her hand and took it, slipping it on her wrist. Ashamed to admit that she had forgotten all about her birthday present, she glanced at Raul and imagined that she saw a flash of something like pain in his eyes. The next second she knew that she was mistaken as he added with biting cynicism, 'But it is rather valuable, and under the circumstances I think you have earned it.'

  She didn't speak; she couldn't. The world had
caved in on her. She loved Raul, and yet he could treat her like some gold-digging tramp he had picked up off the street!

  'Nothing to say?' he queried coldly, and, when she still didn't speak, he added with cruel mockery, 'Or perhaps you think you're worth more? So send me a bill, honey, and I'll think about paying.'

  The tears she had held at bay for so long threatened to overwhelm her and, spinning on her heel, she dashed out of the room.

  Hardly aware of her surroundings, tears blinding her, Penny packed quickly, deliberately leaving behind all the designer clothes that Raul had insisted on buying for her. She checked her purse—she had money enough for a taxi. The glint of metal caught her eyes and she withdrew the plain latch key, then snapped her purse shut.

  With a thumping headache to go with her broken heart, suitcase in hand, she walked stiff-backed through the living area. Raul was nowhere in sight. She dropped the key on the hall table and closed the door quietly behind her. She rang for the elevator, and when it ar­rived, her eyes dry, her face rigid with resolve, she stepped in.

  Out on the street she hailed a taxi and gave the driver her own address. The cab pulled away; Penny closed her eyes and never looked back. It was over...

  CHAPTER FIVE

  'Now, Miss Gold, don't get upset—' the man in the dark blue uniform spoke slowly, softly '—but we have to ask you these questions.'

  'Upset!' Penny bawled, tears rolling helplessly down her cheeks. 'Can't you understand someone has stolen my baby, my James?'

  It was a nightmare, Penny knew. In a moment she would wake up and everything would be back to normal. She looked up at the plain round clock on the stark white wall. Six o'clock—time to lock up the shop and go up­stairs to the apartment and James.

  'What about the father, Miss Gold?' a voice said, then louder, 'Miss Gold! The father?'

  She stared blindly at the man opposite, his voice seemed to be coming from a long way off.

  'Nine times out of ten in this kind of case we find the father has arranged to steal the child.'