by Donna Vitek
Turning over onto his side, he brought her with him, holding her slender pliant body close against the hard lithe warmth of his. A gentle hand stroked her tousled hair back from her face as he whispered, "And now you finally begin to see how it is, don't you, Juliet? You're beginning to want me almost as much as I want you. So it is inevitable—married or not, we will become lovers soon."
"Not if I go away," she whispered back tremulously, trying to ignore the shiver of awareness that still trickled along her spine as he lazily massaged her slim waist with his other hand. "We couldn't become—lovers if I leave Granada."
"But you will not leave," he declared, his low tone taking on a hard edge as his grip tightened around her waist. Entwining his fingers in her hair, he tilted her face up slightly, forcing her to meet the stern light in his green eyes. "Is that understood, Juliet? You won't run away from Granada again. I'm the prospective bridegroom this time, not Pablo, and it would be a very foolish mistake for you to try to run away from me."
Still too bemused by the intense needs he had aroused in her, she had no desire to run away from him, though her common sense was screaming at her that she should try to get as far away as she could. Confusion raged in her and with a muffled sigh, she burrowed her face into his neck, barely aware that she was seeking comfort from the very person who was tormenting her. "I can't let you make me marry you," she muttered weakly. "I just can't."
His lips brushed her hair. "Marriage to me won't be all that bad, Juliet," he said softly. "I promise you I'll try to make you happy."
Only your love could make me happy, she cried out to him silently, unable to voice the words, fearing he would utter the lie and say that he did love her, simply to get her to agree to the marriage. Instead, she nuzzled her cheek closer to the smooth warmth of his skin but as she started to remind him that he could not stop her from running away from him, he pulled away, shaking his head.
"No more discussion, Juliet. We are getting married as soon as we can. In the meantime, you will be kept very busy by Abuela, I'm sure, making arrangements for the wedding." A smile hovered at the corners of his mouth an instant before he brushed a light, teasingly evocative kiss against her lips. "So I suggest you simply relax and enjoy the next few days. Why fight against the inevitable?"
Why indeed? she wondered, longing to surrender to his demands and take him any way she could get him. Then all her inner turmoil was temporarily forgotten and she had to bite back a soft gasp as Raul lowered his feet to the floor suddenly and got out of the bed. The sunlight filtering through the windows glowed over his bronzed skin while he looked around for the terry bathrobe he had discarded. Having never seen a naked man before, Juliet blushed hotly and squeezed her eyes shut, only to allow them to flutter open again when Raul glanced down at her and laughed softly. By then, the robe covered him and he was tying the belt loosely around his waist and when she inadvertently released her breath in a soft sigh of relief, he grinned unabashedly and shook his head.
"How shy you are, Juliet," he said softly, teasingly. "I do believe you're going to be a typical blushing bride."
"I'm not going to be a bride at all, blushing or otherwise," she argued weakly. "Raul, I can't be. This is so crazy. I…"
"You will not run away, Juliet," he interrupted tersely, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his robe and gazing down at her intently, his green eyes darkly enigmatic. "I plan to keep a close watch over you from now until our wedding day so make up your mind to it—you won't run out on me the way you did Pablo last year. And I think you realize I won't allow you to."
She did. Deep down inside, she knew he was not a man who made idle threats so if he said he would be watching her closely, she was certain he meant it. Suddenly the reality of the situation overwhelmed her and as Raul turned and strode from the room, she pressed her fist between her breasts, hoping to ease the ache caused by her pounding heartbeat. He meant it when he said they were going to be married very soon and in that moment in time, she wasn't even sure she wanted to try to defy him.
Raul was true to his word. He spent the next day at the casa where she was and even when he decided to drive into Granada, he insisted she go with him.
"But should I change clothes?" she asked him weakly out in the courtyard where he had found her playing gin rummy with her uncle. "Where exactly are we going?"
"Just to the gallery," he informed her, sweeping a long lazy gaze over her neat denim sundress. "And no, don't change clothes. You look fine as you are."
"She always looks lovely," Will spoke up dotingly, then grinned at the younger man. "And I'm sure you've noticed that dreamy-eyed look she's had in her eyes since yesterday. You can take the credit for that, you know. I guess brides-to-be do have a radiant inner glow."
Entrancing color bloomed in Juliet's cheeks and though she knew Raul was watching her, she couldn't meet his gaze directly. If she had a radiant inner glow about her, she wished her uncle hadn't mentioned it. She certainly didn't want Raul to realize exactly how susceptible she was to him.
If he had come to that realization, he was too gallant to let her know it. Catching one small hand in his, he simply said good-bye to Will and escorted her beneath the stone arch and along the flagstone path that led them to the driveway where the cream-colored BMW was parked. After she was settled in the car, he came around to slip in beneath the steering wheel, then, without a word, he started the engine and drove away from the casa.
Out on the highway a few moments later, he glanced at her and said softly, "You're very quiet, Juliet. Don't tell me you're still trying to fight the inevitable."
"I feel so guilty," she blurted out, clenching her hands together in her lap. "You just don't understand that I felt like the most awful fraud this morning when you told Uncle Will we were getting married. He was so pleased but of course he doesn't know you're only marrying me to placate your grandmother."
"Do you think he'd be any less pleased about our plans if he knew about yesterday morning?" Raul countered tonelessly. "He's an old-fashioned man, Juliet, and if he had been with Abuela when she found us in your bedroom, he would have expected the same thing she did— marriage."
"But I would have been able to explain to him that nothing happened," Juliet murmured. "And he would have believed me. He trusts me and you and if we had told him nothing happened, he wouldn't have expected you to marry me."
Raul turned his head, his dark intelligent eyes narrowing, seemingly piercing the amber depths of hers. "Why didn't you tell Will the truth then?" he asked, his voice low and melodious. "If you had explained the entire situation to him, you might have gained an ally in your fight against marrying me. I think you're right. He would have believed you so why didn't you tell him the truth?" As he turned his attention back to the road again, there was a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw. "I think it's very interesting that you didn't tell him and try to gain his support, don't you?"
Averting her gaze, Juliet shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I really didn't see—any point in upsetting him."
"How disappointing," Raul said lazily. "And I was hoping you didn't ask him to help you cancel the wedding plans because you'd decided being married to me wouldn't be such a terrible ordeal after all."
Her eyes darted up to meet his and though she detected a hint of a teasing gleam in the dark green depths, she realized his tone had been half serious. A revealing warmth colored her cheeks an entrancing pink and she hastily turned to stare out her window. He was too perceptive by far and at the moment, she was too unnerved by the truth of what he had said to even attempt to deny it.
During the remainder of the drive to Granada, Raul turned their conversation to impersonal topics so Juliet had relaxed somewhat by the time they reached the gallery. Even Jimena Ruiz's disparaging attitude didn't upset her unduly. Elegantly chic in a scarlet silk blouse and expensively tailored natural linen skirt, the older woman smiled rather snidely as her cold brown eyes flicked over Juliet's plain denim sundress. Not bothering
to speak, she simply acknowledged Juliet with a curt nod, then latched on to Raul's right arm and with a proprietorial air, hauled him into the office in the rear of the gallery.
Waiting there was Luis Diego, the talented young artist Raul had talked to at Janine Elcano's party. He didn't speak English so Raul introduced him to Juliet in Spanish. Catching the word novia, knowing it meant fiancée, Juliet experienced a curiously warming sense of belonging, which didn't diminish even as Jimena bristled almost visibly beside her. Besides, Luis Diego nodded and smiled at her with frank admiration, as if he understood perfectly why Raul planned to marry her. As he lifted one small hand and kissed it gallantly, Juliet smiled, partially because his clipped black mustache tickled her skin but mainly because he was such a charming young man.
After all the social pleasantries had been taken care of, conversation turned to Diego's paintings. Understanding no more than every other word of the rapid-fire Spanish the other three were speaking, Juliet decided to browse through the gallery. Yet, as soon as she stepped quietly out of the office, she was halted by Raul, who caught one of her hands in both his.
"We must start those Spanish lessons soon," he declared softly, his darkening gaze capturing hers. "I don't want you to feel excluded from this discussion simply because Luis can't speak English."
His seemingly genuine concern for her feelings touched her deeply and the love she felt for him intensified with astonishing fervor. A soft radiance illuminated her golden amber eyes as she shook her head, smiling slightly. "I don't feel excluded, Raul, really."
The slow answering smile he gave curved his sensuously carved mouth, then he released her hand almost reluctantly and left her to go back to Luis Diego.
The main room of the gallery was circular with a gleaming marble tiled floor and off-white walls that didn't distract attention from the paintings displayed on them. While Raul and Luis discussed the works they would exhibit in Luis's first private showing at the gallery in two weeks, Juliet wandered around, pausing now and then to more closely examine a painting or sculpture that caught her eye. It was as she was admiring the vibrant colors of a painting of three children playing in a garden that Jimena came out of the office to join her, her high-heeled shoes rapping sharply on the marble floor.
Ignoring Juliet's questioning glance, she immediately launched into a mile-a-minute monologue in Spanish, accompanying it with exaggerated hand gestures. She was speaking much more rapidly than she usually did, apparently in a deliberate attempt to make Juliet feel rather stupid. Recognizing only an occasional word, Juliet lifted her hands, halting Jimena's tirade midstream, then smiled politely. "If you would try to speak a bit more slowly and more clearly, I think I might be able to understand what you're saying."
Jimena snorted indelicately and folded her arms across her chest. "You Americans are all alike, are you not? You expect everyone everywhere to accommodate you. But I do not feel like accommodating you, Señorita McKay. You are in my country and if you are too lazy to try to understand the Spanish language, then that is your problem, not mine."
"But I am trying to improve my Spanish," Juliet replied flatly, striving hard to control her rising impatience. "That's why I asked you to speak more slowly but if you'd rather not go to the trouble, then that's fine with me. I'm sure I can find other people who'd be willing to be more cooperative and understanding."
Jimena snorted again, her eyes glittering malevolently. "You may gain the cooperation of shopkeepers and other such peasants, señorita, but do not expect Raul's friends and family to be so accommodating. You will be an outsider in their circles and they will resent you from the beginning for trapping Raul into marrying you. His bride should be Spanish and from a family as distinguished as his own. None of his friends or family is happy that he is being forced into a marriage with you—an American with red hair and pale skin."
Recognizing Jimena's jealous motivation in lashing out at her, Juliet gave a careless shrug. "I didn't realize Raul's friends and family had authorized you to be their spokesperson, and maybe they haven't. I suspect you're only expressing your own personal opinion."
Her calm only served to provoke Jimena further, "Imbecil!" she spat out disgustedly. "You are too stupid to see that Raul is only marrying you because honor demands it. He will not be happy with you. He will only tolerate you and you will never be part of his life. His friends will never accept you and both he and his grandmother are probably sick at the thought of you providing a Valaquez heir. Valaquez men have always married Spanish girls and had fine dark Andalusian babies. But you with your red hair and white skin will not be able to give him such children, will you?"
Juliet almost winced, her own doubts about the coming marriage reenforced by Jimena's stinging statements. Yet, refusing to satisfy the older woman's vindictive nature by appearing the least bit upset, she gave a careless toss of one hand and turned back to the painting she had been admiring. "I think it's a bit early to even think about having children," she said tonelessly. "So I'll worry about presenting the Valaquez family with a red-haired heir later. In the meantime, I'll just hope most of Raul's friends will be more polite to me than you are, Señorita Ruiz."
"Oh, they will be polite but that is all they will be," Jimena whispered viciously. "They will just never accept you as one of them so it would be very stupid of you to expect them to."
"I think you owe Juliet an apology, Jimena," Raul suddenly said, his voice dangerously low as he startled both women by appearing from behind a large metal sculpture to their left. Two long strides brought him close to Juliet and as he draped a possessive arm across her shoulders, he surveyed Jimena critically. "You've taken too much upon yourself. My friends don't need you to speak for them. Most of them seem quite eager to meet Juliet, so eager in fact that she and I will be spending this weekend near Almeria so we won't have to contend with a continual stream of visitors to the casa. A bride-to-be deserves peace and quiet just before her wedding. And this bride-to-be also deserves an apology from you, Jimena."
With an outraged toss of her dark head, Jimena uttered something undoubtedly uncomplimentary beneath her breath then marched back toward the office, the ramrod straightness of her back indicating an apology from her wouldn't be forthcoming any time soon.
After she had disappeared, Raul turned Juliet to him, slipping his long fingers through the silky thickness of her fiery hair. His jade green eyes captured and held her gaze. "Jimena is not a very diplomatic person," he said softly. "And I'm sorry if she upset you."
"It doesn't matter. She's never liked me and to tell the truth, I've never liked her either," Juliet admitted, then scanned his lean face with searching intensity. "Is that true—what you told Jimena? Are we really spending the weekend near Almeria?"
Brushing his thumbs caressingly over her slender neck, Raul nodded and smiled knowingly. "It's true but you needn't sound so apprehensive. We'll be properly chaperoned, I assure you. A friend Manuel Olvera and his wife have invited us to spend the weekend with them. I think you will like them, Juliet," he added, tapping the tip of her small nose playfully. "And despite Jimena's ridiculous comments, I'm sure Manuel and his wife will like you."
Though Juliet nodded, the smile she gave was rather wan and uncertain and she couldn't shake the vague unpleasant suspicion that Raul was only being so supportive because he thought he should be.
Chapter Eleven
The drive toward Almeria on Saturday morning was a scenic delight. Following the craggy shoreline, the road overlooked the sapphire sea, gilded gold in the sunlight. A Mediterranean balminess was in the air and Juliet inhaled appreciatively the fresh salt breeze as she gazed out her open car window. Flat-roofed and flower-bedecked white houses clustered in villages that clung precariously to the rocky sloping shore above pebbled beaches where an occasional fisherman repaired his nets on the sand beside his beached boat.
Juliet found the quaint seaside atmosphere enchanting. Though she had seen Spain's famed Sun Coast before, when she, Holly a
nd Benny had been in Malaga several weeks ago, she had never followed the Mediterranean this far east before. Here there was a blessed sparsity of the monolithic high-rise hotels, shopping complexes and parking lots that blemished the more popular resort towns along the coast. These peaceful little villages, however, still looked much like they had for centuries and their timelessness was part of their charm. Watching the sun-sparkled sea, Juliet settled herself more comfortably in the passenger seat and sighed contentedly.
The soft sound drew Raul's attention. "What exactly did that sigh mean?"
Turning to look at him, she gave him a rather shy half smile and shrugged slightly. "It didn't mean anything really. I was just thinking how nice it is that these villages haven't changed a lot in hundreds of years."
"Ah, a romantic," he said softly. "I suspected you were but I never realized you yearned for the simpler life of the past."
"I have no desire to return to the past, thank you. But I do think the past is worth preserving. It's sort of living history."
Raul's dark brows lifted in mock surprise. "Many people would be astonished to hear you say that. Americans in general have the reputation for putting progress ahead of everything else, even their own heritage."
"We do as well at preserving our heritage as any other people, I'm sure," Juliet replied heatedly, in no mood for such a remark though his tone had been undeniably teasing. She glared at him indignantly. "You Europeans tend to forget that we Americans have only been on that continent for about three hundred and fifty years so of course we don't have a bunch of Dark Age castles to brag about. But we do have entire small Colonial towns preserved exactly as they used to be. So our heritage is important to us and I happen to think we've done a pretty good job of protecting it in our two hundred years of being a nation."
Raul's expression sobered. His darkening eyes held hers as he reached out to stroke the back of his hand against her cheek. "I was only teasing you, Juliet. I have no anti-American sentiments, I assure you."
