As they drove, the houses became further apart and grander, and the land was covered in olive groves and vineyards. Finally, the car turned into a gated road which disappeared over a small hill behind a field of small trees. As they continued along the driveway, Sarah caught sight of an enormous house in the distance. She couldn't keep back her questions any longer.
“When was the last time you came here?”
Carlos shrugged his shoulders lazily. “Probably five years, it might be six. I'm not really sure.”
“That's quite a long time.”
“It is, Sarah.”
She ignored his obvious reluctance to engage in conversation, instead turning to stare into the cold darkness of his eyes. “Is that because...?”
“It's because it is better that way,” he interrupted. He was irritated and was doing all he could to make that clear without doing or saying something which might hurt her. He thought he had told her enough about his past. Yet she continued to dig and dig despite him having told her more than he had ever intended. She knew about Raul and she knew about Rafaela. But the more he told her the more she wanted to know. He felt she was sucking him dry by questioning. When would she take the hint? “We tend to meet up once a year, but that's usually somewhere else, not here. And, I do see Raul more often when we have football matches, usually international games.”
Sarah was unsure what to think of his clear reluctance to engage in conversation on the subject of their hosts. Maybe this was not the right time to quiz him, as they were about to meet them. As she looked at the house they were approaching and the acres of land they had to drive through, she wondered if Carlos felt that all this could have been his – along with the woman who lived here. The woman she was about to meet. Playing safe, she changed the direction of the conversation. “So, tell me how old their daughter is.”
“Gabriella? She would be twelve now.”
“That's such a pretty name. So your best friend has been a father for twelve years.” She looked at him sideways. “And you are just about to become one.”
There was a few moments silence as Carlos felt that pain which he had carried deep in his heart for so long. He continued to stare out into the Spanish sky and the golden rays of wintry sun shimmering across the fields. He was about to become a father. It didn't seem possible – and he was yet to get used to the idea – he had just been blanking it out because the concept of fatherhood was beyond his comprehension. He knew nothing about babies and had never intended becoming a father. He had just been swept along with his own idea of what was the right thing to do while internally pretending to himself that it wasn't happening. And he was also worried. Because the part of him that wanted to be a father was all too aware of the dangers of miscarriage in the first three months. The thought of becoming a father filled Carlos with dread, the thought it might not happen worried him even more.
And each time Sarah mentioned the baby growing inside her or spoke of his impending fatherhood the idea flared in his mind like an explosion of reality. A baby. It all seemed so impossible – a miracle even, that something could come on him so unexpectedly. It was his own seed which had created a life. He thought back to a magazine article he had read and which contained a photograph of a scan of a baby in the womb. Out of proportion, with a giant head, and yet unmistakably the shape of a baby.
Carlos moved suddenly, reaching his hand across her stomach causing Sarah to give a little jump of surprise. “Have you felt anything yet?”
Sarah laughed and shook her head. “No, not yet.” She looked straight at him and gave him a big smile, aware that he was genuinely interested in the baby she was carrying for him. “I won't feel anything in the first three months, at least, so it will be a while yet.” She felt a warm glow through her body as she enjoyed the sensation of his hand there. It wasn't the feeling of love, which she wanted, but she did feel safe and protected which were pretty good substitutes. “Are we going to tell them we are expecting a baby?”
“It will only make things more difficult,” he said.
“You think it's going to be difficult?” she replied.
“Everything is in the past now, but don't expect us all to be hugging and laughing and joking together. We are friends, but distant friends.”
As she watched his lips move she couldn't help but expect him to tell her that she would only ever be second best. She already knew her place, but she'd rather keep in place her own stupid fantasies than have them smashed by an admission from Carlos. But as she watched his face and saw the unmistakable tension in his cheeks and on his brow she realised that he was hurting. Was this trip going to be unbearably difficult for him? And what could she do to ease his suffering? So she decided she wouldn't question him any further but instead would concentrate on presenting herself as best she could and make him proud of her.
“Quick reminder,” she said quietly. “It's Raul and Rafaela, the daughter is Gabriella? There are no brothers and sisters, just the one child?”
“That's correct, and here she is to greet us,” said Carlos.
Sarah looked out of the window expecting to see a twelve-year-old girl, because she knew what she was like at that age. When expecting a visitor she could imagine a young girl sitting at the window waiting and watching with excitement for the guests to arrive. But this was no young girl, this was a woman.
And this was some woman.
Tall, elegant, a perfectly proportioned figure and possibly the longest legs Sarah had seen on a woman. She had thick, shiny hair which cascaded over her narrow shoulders. Her skin was olive coloured whilst her eyes shone and stood out because of their deep green tincture. Her clothes were immaculate. She wore an exquisitely cut dress in an off-white tone - accessorised with ankle length leather boots which had a small heel. She was adorned with expensive jewellery. A narrow bracelet of sparkling diamonds dangled from her slender wrist and there were more diamonds attached to her ear lobes. But the biggest diamond of all was the solitaire wedding ring on her finger. On anybody else, Sarah thought, so much jewellery would look showy. But Rafaela exuded so much confidence she could probably get away with wearing anything.
Sarah's heart sank as she felt herself to be insignificant in comparison to her husband's former lover. She felt pale, her skin was too fair, her hair all wishy washy and blonde. She painfully reminded herself that this was the woman Carlos had planned to marry – no shotgun involved. This was the woman who, when Carlos needed her most, had chosen to dump him and run-off with his best friend. Sarah suddenly realised just what a blow to his pride and his heart her leaving must have been to her husband.
“Is that Rafaela?” she said softly.
“That's her.”
“She's very beautiful.”
“Yes, she is,” said Carlos, as his face widened into a smile.
Sarah's heart plummeted. She could see that Rafaela was a beautiful woman and her husband would be a liar if he had denied it. But she felt so insecure all she wanted was for Carlos to tell her that she was a hag and that he had never loved her.
There was no time for more thoughts or for more conversation as Rafaela was upon them bringing with her a heady scent and those unique, sparkling, green eyes which she pointed directly at Carlos.
“Carlos,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders as she kissed him on one cheek and then the other. “So good to see you, it's been a long time. Was it in Paris last year, when we had dinner?”
“I think it was,” he said. “Time goes so quickly.”
“But you still had time to get married, and you never even told us!”
“You know I like springing surprises,” he said dryly. Pulling himself away from Rafaela's arms and the overbearing scent of her perfume, he placed his palm gently to his wife's waist. “And this is my wife, Sarah.”
“'My wife! Now there are two words I thought I would never hear you say. I'm so pleased to meet you, Sarah.”
Sarah felt awkward and was hoping that Carlos would do something
significant like kiss her, or declare his deep love for her. Anything that would put Rafaela in no doubt that he was engrossed by his new bride. She wanted it in spite of it being untrue, even though she knew Carlos wouldn't make such an empty gesture in order to gloat in front of his ex-lover. But without such a sign from Carlos, Sarah felt excluded due to the shared history and dark undercurrents that had passed between them.
“And I'm pleased to meet you,” she said, bravely burying her nerves.
“Now I understand this all happened very quickly,” said Rafaela as she hooked her arm through Sarah's as if they were life-long friends. “I want to know all about it. How did you capture the heart of a man for whom all women go crazy? So many have failed where you have succeeded, you must tell me your secret.”
Sarah felt she was being reminded that there was only one woman who had captured Carlos's heart. Or was she insinuating that Sarah was not the kind of bride she was expecting. A young, unsophisticated country-girl who worked as a shop assistant. She may be wearing expensive clothes and carrying a designer handbag but Sarah thought the clothes wore her, rather than the other way round.
“That's a question for Carlos, I think,” said Sarah deflecting the discussion. They walked through a brick archway, continuing into a courtyard on their way to the main living quarters.
“It's impossible to get information out of Carlos, these days,” sighed Rafaela. “We have to be happy with the occasional meeting.”
“Is Raul not here to greet us?” asked Carlos.
“He had to go and look at a new horse we are getting. Gabriella has gone with him, they should be back soon,” said Rafaela. “We can take tea. Would you like some tea, Sarah?”
“I'd love some tea,” Sarah replied. “Thank you.”
Rafaela left to arrange the tea. Sarah looked around the beautiful room which was stunning in an ancient kind of way, everything in it looked expensive. Silk rugs covered the flag-stone floor, the sofas were made from luxurious, dark velvet and shining wood. Landscape paintings covered the walls and there were exquisite lamps at various points around the room.
Sarah's focus on the room's content was broken by the sound of a door slamming and the appearance of a young girl running into the room. It was Gabriella, with long legs like her mother's, long hair and mud-stained riding clothes.
“Carlos! Carlos!” she screeched, as she rushed up to him and threw her arms round his neck. Carlos put his finger to his lips to shush her as she continued in a stream of Spanish and laughter.
“We must speak English,” he said firmly. “This is my new wife and she doesn't speak any Spanish.”
Gabriella turned towards Sarah. “Hello,” she said shyly and politely.
“Buenos dias, Gabriella,” said Sarah.
“You do speak Spanish, Carlos is wrong!” exclaimed Gabriella, excitedly.
Sarah lifted her hand and stretched out her forefinger and thumb so they were close together and parallel. “Muy poco.” Sarah smiled. “He is very nearly correct.”
“What's your name?” asked Gabriella.
“Sarah.”
“That's a pretty name,” said the young girl confidently.
“Yes, it means 'the one who captures men',” said Rafaela, returning to the room. She placed the tea tray on the table. “And that is exactly what has happened to Carlos, he has been captured, haven't you Carlos?”
Sarah felt breathless and could feel her cheeks filled with blood as she wondered what Carlos might say to bluff himself out of that one. But he was saved from having to give an answer by Raul, who made his entrance at just the right time.
“Raul,” said Carlos. He rose to his feet ignoring Rafaela's interrogation.
Sarah looked at Raul and saw a face etched with tension, his black hair touched with streaks of silver. He was the same age as Carlos, but he looked a decade older.
“Good to see you, Carlos,” said Raul. “You're looking good, and I understand congratulations are in order.”
His eyes washed over Sarah just long enough for her to notice his uncertainty and the edginess to his demeanour.
“And this must be your wife?”
“The name's Sarah. I'm very pleased to meet you,” said Sarah politely.
“Pleased? Honestly?” Raul's eyes and mouth widened. “Then Carlos must be going soft in his old age, he doesn't usually have a kind word to say about me.”
“But Carlos is floating on the cloud of love, the one inhabited by newly-weds,” said Rafaela happily. “Aren't you, Carlos?”
Sarah was beginning to wonder whether she was paranoid or was Rafaela constantly goading Carlos into contradicting her? It was as if she wanted to hear him admit he hadn't married Sarah through choice. Keeping the pregnancy secret had been a necessary strategy rather than cynical, thought Sarah, because it was clear Rafaela would have had a field day if she knew that Carlos had no choice but to marry Sarah.
But Sarah could not understand why Carlos had brought her here. Whilst eating dinner the thought constantly nagged her – causing her to be quiet while she ate the unfamiliar food and took very small sips of the rich red wine. Fortunately, she sat next to Gabriella, who kept her attention with chatter about England and her wish to visit it.
“You can come and visit us, if your parents are agreeable?” her invitation turned into a question as she met Carlos's eyes. “Couldn't she?”
“Of course she can,” Carlos exclaimed. He turned to Gabriella directly. “You are welcome to visit us at any time.” Carlos was impressed with Sarah's instinctive generosity and the fact that she was able to maintain a dignified, civilised air when the atmosphere at the dinner table had been, generally speaking, as sarcastic and cutting as he feared it might be.
Rafaela had worn a silk cocktail dress which clung to her shapely body like it had been sprayed on. She had begun the evening boasting about her extravagant lifestyle in a way that made Carlos feel embarrassed and she had contradicted pretty much every sentence uttered by her husband. Even when Raul had spoke of his beloved art collection, Rafaela had contributed nothing but negative comments and a sarcastic tone. Carlos had noticed Sarah squeezing her lips together a couple of times and then deliberately turning to Gabriella to engage her in a discussion about horses – helping to drive away the poisonous atmosphere at the dinner table.
And whilst they sat eating it became clear in Carlos's mind that the remnants of his anger towards Raul had disappeared, replaced by fury that Rafaela could treat his old friend so disrespectfully.
After dessert, Carlos rose to his feet and spoke. “Come on, Raul. Show me this collection; I am just dying to see it.”
Raul shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, fill your glass up and I'll give you the full tour.”
Watching the men leave the room, Sarah felt isolated. More so when, despite Gabriella's complaints, she was sent to bed by her mother. Sarah hugged Gabriella and kissed her on both cheeks before once again extending the invitation for her to visit England.
The two women sat in silence as Gabriella's footsteps on the flagstone floors got fainter – and once there was silence Rafaela picked up a wine bottle and turned to Sarah.
“Wine?”
“I will stick with the water, thanks.”
Rafaela poured herself a full glass of wine. “You don't drink wine, Sarah?”
Sarah took a sip from her water, trying to maintain a pleasant smile. “No, not really.”
“I noticed you didn't drink. I've been meaning to ask you a question all evening.” Rafaela lowered her head and looked at Sarah through the top of her eyes. “Are you pregnant?”
Chapter 10
Sarah caught her breath as her stomach sank and the beat of her heart increased its pace. She felt like a rabbit caught under the full glare of headlights, knowing she was about to be run over and not knowing which way to run.
“You're asking me if I am pregnant?” she said, trying hard to think of a way to deflect the question. “That's a very personal thing to ask.�
�
“Maybe it is. But it's not an answer to my question.”
“And it's not a question that I need to answer. Lots of women don't drink alcohol.” Sarah didn't feel that her defence was in any way convincing.
“You're right, Sarah. Lots of women don't drink alcohol. Then again, lots of women don't marry older, rich billionaires either.” Rafaela lifted her wineglass, peering over it to look directly at Sarah with a knowing smile.
Sarah swallowed hard. “There's only a twelve year age difference.”
“You say only? It's a different generation, he could almost be your father,” said Rafaela, mockingly.
“I didn't realise I had come here to be insulted,” said an indignant Sarah.
“It's not my intention to insult you. I am being honest with you, that's what friends are for, honesty. Have you met any of Carlos's friends?” There was a brief silence as Rafaela waited for a response. “No? I can't say I am surprised. You see, Sarah, I am only asking you what all his friends will be thinking.” Sarah remained calm on the outside, but inside she was raging with fury. She felt like a schoolgirl being admonished by her headmistress. Rafaela continued. “You're nothing like I would have expected his wife to be. Nothing at all. Carlos is a cultured and highly educated man, but you... Well, I can see that your youthful freshness would be an appealing distraction for an experienced man – but as your youth fades, then what?”
Sarah gripped her glass tumbler as if she was using it for protection, her blood felt as if it was draining from her body. “Oh please,” she said weakly, trying to sound offended.
“I am just making sure that you are aware of the facts of your situation, Sarah.” She put down her glass and raised her head in a way designed to be intimidating. “You do know that Carlos was in love with me? That he wanted to marry me? And that he left Madrid broken-hearted when I chose Raul?”
Billionaire's Defiant Mistress Page 12
