Raul's Revenge

by Jacqueline Baird

  Penny stirred restlessly on the bed. It had all seemed so perfect; she had admitted her fear to Amy that she might be pregnant and Amy had been wonderful about it. Being strictly honest, Penny had already suspected that she was pregnant when she had proposed to Raul. Otherwise she would never have done it. She knew the exact night her beloved son had been conceived—the only time Raul had lost control, the night of their first ar­gument, in Dubai.

  She glanced at the sleeping child, her heart full of love, and something more—something she did not want to recognise. Guilt. Regret, maybe. In the light of the past twenty-four hours, she was forced to question her right to deprive James of his father... Still—she yawned widely, her eyelids drooping—her son was safe and there was no hurry to decide one way or another.

  But in that she was wrong...

  I'll open the shop this morning,' Amy said as the three of them sat around the small breakfast table in the cheerful pine kitchen. James, in his high chair, was shovelling mashed banana and cereal in his mouth with chubby fingers, the spoon lying neglected by his Beatrix Potter bowl.

  Penny smiled at his antics and agreed. 'If you don't mind.'

  'My pleasure, Penny; you spend the day with James. After all, I'm hardly likely to be inundated with prescriptions.'

  ‘That's true.' Penny frowned.

  'Cheer up. We will be fine, and Doris is coming in as usual so you have nothing to worry about.'

  Doris was their one full-time employee—a young local girl and an absolute gem. She had a gift for picking stock that would appeal to the tourists—a godsend since the new medical centre had opened with its own pharmacy attached and had taken a lot of their trade. The pre­scription side of the business had halved in the past few months and really no longer warranted two pharmacists.

  But, luckily for Sense and Sensibility, from Easter to October the tourists flocked to Cornwall, outnumbering the residents about a hundred to one, so the profit margin had not dropped too much. But it was still a worry.

  Penny spent a hectic morning with James; the first post delivered hundreds of letters of sympathy and support along with a host of toys, mostly cuddly. The apartment had a separate front door from the shop and the doorbell seemed to ring every five minutes with another gift from a well-wisher. Penny was over­whelmed by the generosity of complete strangers and was rapidly getting worn out running up and down the stairs to answer the door.

  Grasping James firmly around the middle and pinning him to her hip, she raced downstairs yet again. James thought it was a huge joke and that all his birthdays had come at once. Penny was not so sure. But when she opened the door she had to laugh.

  One of the BBC cameramen of the day before was standing with the most enormous cuddly panda in his arms. Apparently the whole crew had had a whip round and bought it for James. Thanking him profusely, and brushing the happy tears from her eyes, she struggled back upstairs, trailing the enormous panda and James.

  Luckily, by the time James was ready for his lunch and afternoon nap, the callers had tailed off. Washed and fed, and with a cot overflowing with toys, James blew bubbles up at her as she leaned over his cot and pressed a swift kiss on his cherubic face. 'I love you, baby,' she murmured, and was rewarded with a beatific if sleepy smile.

  'Love Mamma,' James said happily.

  It never ceased to amaze Penny how clever her son was. He had said his first word at nine months and now almost spoke in sentences. Puffed up with maternal pride, she watched him until he slept, and then reluc­tantly left the bedroom and walked down the hall to the living room.

  She had a mountain of work to do—washing, cleaning—but instead she flopped on the prettily covered chintz sofa, and, curling her bare feet up beneath her, pulled the ribbon from her pony-tail and shook her head, running her fingers through her long hair before sinking back against the soft cushion.

  Penny could hardly believe that it was all over. James was safe. And with a deep sigh of relief she closed her eyes and said another silent prayer of gratitude.

  Her eyes flew open at the sound of the doorbell yet again. She was off the sofa and down the stairs like a shot. James had just gone to sleep. No way did she want him awake again so quickly.

  She flung open the door. Pushing her tangled hair off her face, she said, 'Please, you'll wake the baby.' A large figure of a man was blocking the doorway. 'Can I help y—?' And it was then that she raised her eyes to the stranger's face and gasped on the 'you'. Penny froze in astonishment, the colour draining from her cheeks.

  'Aren't you going to ask me in?' Raul drawled. Ig­noring her gasp of shock at his appearance, he did not wait for an answer but simply brushed past her, closing the door behind him.

  'Wait a minute,' Penny spluttered.

  ‘I think not, Penelope. I have waited too long already. Over two years too long, it would seem, and what I have to say to you would be best said in private.'

  In the close confines of the narrow hall his presence was overpowering. She shuddered and looked away from his too-penetrating gaze, but the rest of him only served to remind her what a truly awesome specimen of the male sex he was.

  A black leather blouson jacket accentuated the width of his broad shoulders, and the close-fitting cinnamon-coloured knit shirt was open at the neck, blending with the strong, tanned throat. Long legs were encased in black jeans of an indecently hip-hugging fit. She dropped her head and stared at his shoes. Gucci loafers, of course! What else?

  She closed her eyes, an agonising surge of bitter re­sentment rocketing through her. The man with every­thing but a heart, she thought, her hatred of his kind tightening her mouth in disgust. Pull yourself together, she told herself sternly, and, taking a deep, calming breath, opened her eyes. He is only a man, and not a very nice one at that...

  Lifting her head, she coldly faced him. 'I have nothing whatsoever to say to you.' Refusing to be cowed by his glittering, remorseless gaze, which seemed to see right through her, she reached out and curled her hand around the doorhandle. 'Leave. Now,' she said curtly, but in­stead a large hand covered hers and the door remained firmly closed.

  'No one orders me to leave, and certainly not a de­vious, conniving little—‘

  'And I will not be insulted in my own home,' she cut in. His touch was like a searing brand on her flesh. She tore herself free, clutching her two hands together con­vulsively, determined to deny the instant effect that his lightest touch had evoked. His dark eyes blazed with fury and he muttered something under his breath that she did not catch, and she did not care.

  'I trust I have made myself clear. Please leave.' She knew in her bones that she had little or no hope of forcing Raul to go, but it had to be worth a try. This man had destroyed her once, torn her apart, humiliated her com­pletely. It had taken her years to recover, to regain her pride and self-respect. But never again, she vowed.

  Raul's narrowed gaze rested on her standing defiantly before him and then sank to her entwined hands, an ex­pression of something very like disgust tautening his hard features.

  'That is unfortunately no longer an option,' he said icily. 'Had you told me I had a son earlier, none of the trauma, the horror of the past two days would ever have happened. Think about that, my sweet Penny, when you attempt to defend your behaviour,' he drawled with biting cynicism, turning and striding up the stairs while she stood frozen to the spot.

  She watched him reach the top and disappear into her apartment, her heartbeat racing like an express train. But the worst part was the knowledge that the damn man was probably right!

  No one in the world would be allowed to steal any­thing or anyone from Raul Da Silva. No one would dare try. And, with that depressing thought in her mind, she could do nothing but trudge reluctantly up the stairs after him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  She should tear after him and throw him out. Instead Penny was grateful for the few moments alone to try and marshal her thoughts into some kind of order. Raul here, in her home. It was too much to take in. A t
housand questions spun in her tired mind. How had he found her? More importantly, why?

  After the trauma of the past day or so the last thing she needed was a spectre from the past coming back to haunt her. Raul could not have chosen a worse time to reappear in her life. Her confidence in herself as a mother had taken a severe battering, and she was in no con­dition to fight with Raul.

  A creeping paralysis slowed her steps and she stopped just inside the door of the living room, folding her arms across her chest in a defensive attitude. Raul was standing in the middle of the room—a sinister dark force, totally out of place in her pretty home.

  'Nice, but hardly the luxury you were accustomed to,' Raul drawled cynically, his dark gaze sweeping the room and settling on her white face. 'And hardly the money. A country pharmacy-cum-gif t shop is not about to make you wealthy.'

  His arrogant, sneering condemnation of her work and her lifestyle was the incentive she needed to regain her wits and her temper.

  'You've got the wrong person. I was never accus­tomed to luxury. That was your taste, never mine,' she snapped. 'And, as for the single-minded pursuit of money, it doesn't seem to have done you much good if the grey in your hair is a testament to your wealth.'

  Penny did not care if he was insulted. Raul deserved it. She had never wanted his money, only his love, until she'd discovered that he did not know the meaning of the word.

  She was proud of what she had achieved and no one could take that away from her. Not even Raul.

  She glanced around the familiar room, at the original pine fireplace, lovingly stripped and restored, at the al­coves either side lined with shelves that housed the music centre, television and dozens of books, at the modest, floral-patterned, chintz-covered three-piece suite, the coffee table, the carpet, curtains and wallpaper—all in complementary shades of rose and green. It was her home and she loved it, but with Raul's presence it seemed to shrink in size to the proportions of a doll's house.

  'It wasn't money that caused every one of these grey hairs.' She had not realised that he had moved until his hand snaked out and caught her shoulder. 'It was a lying female,' he grated harshly, his dark eyes narrowed furi­ously on her pale face.

  Penny shrugged, trying to dislodge his hold on her and at the same time, she hoped, convey her indif­ference to him. 'Don't tell me the sweet Dulcie has given you your marching orders again?' she queried sarcas­tically, privately thinking that it was no more than he deserved.

  ‘This is between you and me and our son. Forget Dulcie,' he advised bitingly. 'You have a hell of a lot more to worry about.'

  Penny stared up at him, her blue eyes widening in alarm. His 'our son' struck terror in her heart. Now she knew why he was here. 'I don't think I need to worry,' she muttered, nervously licking her dry lips with the tip of her tongue.

  He smiled—a satanic twist of his hard lips. 'But I know so, my sweet Penny. For starters, worry about depriving a man of his son.' A black brow lifted. 'He is mine. Don't bother trying to deny it.'

  'No, he is mine,' she shot back, infuriated by his ar­rogant claim to fatherhood when he had never given a damn before now. 'You were his biological father, nothing more. A test-tube these days fulfils the same function.'

  A flash of naked, seething anger ignited the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes. 'I am still his father, even if you did do your damnedest to blacken my name on national television.'

  She had not meant to do that, and flushed guiltily. 'I was upset. But it was still the truth,' she retaliated.

  'You were upset! How the hell do you think I felt? I arrived at the penthouse yesterday lunchtime, switched on the television and discovered I had a child I knew nothing about—a child, moreover, who had been kid­napped. And there you were, calling me the worst form of low life.'

  'I never mentioned your name.'

  'You might as well have done. You must have known I would claim my son.'

  She ran a nervous hand through the tangle of her long hair. Amazingly it had never once entered her head. Her only thought had been for her lost child. She looked up and caught his grim, implacable glance and went pale. 'It never occurred to me.'

  'My God! As naive as ever. And you actually think you have nothing to worry about. Let me enlighten you, Penny; you have a great deal to worry about unless you do exactly as I say,' he drawled with a silken menace that made her blood run cold. 'Now! Where is he? I want to see him.'

  'You can't. He is asleep,' she answered, swallowing hard on the fear that threatened to choke her.

  'I can wait.'

  She did not doubt it for a second. She tried to think; Raul had seen her on television... In her distress over James it had never once occurred to her that Raul might be in London and see the appeal. 'You were in England, then?' she voiced her thought out loud.

  'Exactly.' His fingers bit painfully into her shoulder, the one word carrying an undeniable threat.

  A shiver of fear ran down her spine, making her tremble. 'You're hurting me,' she said in a soft, frightened voice. But the fear was all for James, not herself. No way was Raul taking James. She had lost him once for twenty-four hours; that was enough.

  She had not even told Amy the whole truth, but secretly she half blamed Raul for the abduction of her son. If she had not been glancing through Hello magazine in the waiting room and just seen a photo­graph of Raul and Dulcie at some grand gala in Madrid— Dulcie sporting a very ostentatious diamond ring on her engagement finger—Penny might have had enough sense not to hand James over to the bogus nurse.

  'You're lucky I don't kill you. That was my first desire,' he informed her, the violence in his tone shocking her rigid, 'until I spoke to my lawyer and realised that at the moment I need you in order to see my son.'

  His mention of a lawyer was so icily precise and so like him, Penny thought bitterly. Not for Raul the rush to support and comfort the panic-stricken mother, but a discreet call to his lawyer to prepare his case. He could not have underlined more clearly how little he thought of her.

  She hated him in that moment with a rage she could barely contain. She wanted to scream that he was not getting her son, to claw at his conceited, arrogant face, but she did not dare. She had to know his intentions if she was to protect her child. So instead she stood with head bent and made herself count to twenty under her breath, fighting to maintain some self-control.

  'No comment, Penny, darling?' he prompted sca­thingly. His other hand reaching to tip her chin up, he stared down at her deadly pale face, then lower, his gaze roaming slowly over her in insolent appraisal.

  Penny forced herself to suffer his contemptuous perusal without flinching. She knew what he would see, and for a second she wished that she had dressed more conservatively that morning. A skimpy white vest left her arms bare and her denim cut-offs clung to her slim hips, leaving her bare-legged and barefoot. Hardly the power dressing necessary to face a powerful enemy such as Raul, she thought wryly.

  But she refused to let him see how angry and frightened she was. She hated him, and hell would freeze over before she let him get anywhere near her precious James. Un­fortunately, putting her feelings into words was not so easy when Raul towered threateningly over her, holding her. She was still reeling with the shock of his arrival and silently raging inside that he dared come.

  'Brave but foolish,' Raul remarked, seeing the de­fiance in her blue eyes.

  She stared coldly back at him. The first thing she had noticed when he had pushed his way into her home was that his thick black hair was liberally sprinkled with grey. But now she saw the change in his features. His face was thinner, the cheekbones more pronounced. The lines around his eyes had deepened with the passage of time and two deep lines bracketed his hard mouth.

  He was still an incredibly attractive man; his new leanness simply made him appear even more powerful, more predatory, like some sleek black panther waiting to leap... The trick was to make sure that it was not her he leapt on, Penny told herself sternly. Not easy when sh
e was acutely aware of his hand on her shoulder and cupping her chin.

  Marshalling her thoughts, she picked her words care­fully. 'Not foolish,' she said slowly. 'Age and motherhood have taught me patience and caution. I can spare you five minutes. Say what you have to say and go.' She was rather proud of her response, even though her heart was fluttering like a captive bird, and she silently congratulated herself on her hard-won maturity.

  'Caution! You?' Raul laughed—a harsh, humourless sound that grated on the ear. 'You don't know the meaning of the word,' he mocked.

  'And you don't know me,' Penny clipped back.

  'Oh, but I do. And I can prove it,' he said dangerously.

  Penny tensed as his darkening glance caught and held hers. Inexplicably her heart lurched in her breast. She could not break away from the hypnotic power of his glittering eyes. She was like a mouse hypnotised by the hooded gaze of a cobra.

  Raul's hand dropped from her chin to her waist and she was firmly locked to the long, hard length of his body. She knew that she should resist but instead she watched, her pulse racing out of control as his head dipped and his mouth fastened over hers, hard, hot and demanding a response.

  jacqueline baird

  It had been so long since she had been held by a man, kissed by a man, and the fact that it was Raul, her one and only lover, had an instant effect on her senses. The feelings she had repressed for over two years welled up inside her; she felt dizzy, her mind spinning as sexual need as fierce as it was unexpected set every nerve in her body quivering with frustrated desire.

  With an urgent, throaty growl of passion Raul plunged his tongue hungrily, erotically in her mouth. He slid one hand under her vest to glide teasingly up her naked back, his touch on her bare flesh sending shock waves through her slender frame. His other hand curved around her buttocks while a strong thigh urged her legs apart. She felt the powerful thrust of his male arousal and help­lessly arched closer into him. The deep, searing kiss, the heat of his hard body, the scent of him, so achingly fam­iliar, and she was drowning in a sea of sensuous delight.