Surrender to Her Spanish Husband

by Maggie Cox

  Suddenly realizing the road his hypnotized thoughts were taking him down, Rodrigo shook his head. For heaven’s sake, was he going mad? His marriage to Jenny was finished—over. He’d made his choice and he was destined to live by it. Dedication and hard work had helped him become the owner and head of one of the most successful luxury spa hotel empires in the world, and he wasn’t about to ease off the gas for anything—least of all a precarious rekindling of a relationship that he’d really known from the first could never work. The only real solace and satisfaction to be had in life was in his work. No woman, no matter how soft, feminine and lovely, could bring him more happiness and fulfilment than that. He might indulge his need for sex and companionship from time to time, but that was all.

  Moving away from where Jenny lay peacefully sleeping, in case he was tempted to meander into the realms of such pointless fantasy again, he rubbed his palm round his unshaven jaw with a scowl. Reaching the window, he swept the curtain aside to see the faint pink and gold light of dawn edging the horizon. Hovering over the smooth glass of the sea, it was a sublime sight. A sight surely worth missing out on a night’s sleep for… It didn’t happen very often that he did that. The strict routine he adhered to didn’t factor in long, soulful glances at charming scenery.

  ‘Rodrigo?’

  ‘Sí?’

  He spun round with a jolt to find Jenny throwing back the covers and lifting her legs out of the bed.

  ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Just after seven a.m. Where do you think you’re going?’

  Reaching her side, Rodrigo frowned deeply. To his surprise she kept her head bowed and he sensed she was embarrassed.

  ‘I—I need the bathroom.’

  ‘Let me help you.’

  ‘I can manage.’

  But even as she strove to rise to her feet he saw that she was trembling like some fragile birch leaf in the wind. It was clear she was still feverish, and far from recovered.

  ‘I disagree.’ His tone strongly disapproving, Rodrigo had no hesitation in scooping her up into his arms and marching into the bathroom. Through the paper-thin cotton of her nightgown her body heat all but scorched him. There was no way on earth that she’d be fit enough to run her friend’s guesethouse for a good few days yet. He also knew he wouldn’t or couldn’t leave her stranded. His scheduled business meeting would just have to be postponed again. No doubt his contractors would be relieved to have the extra time to get things ready for the boss’s inspection.

  Switching on the light, Rodrigo carefully stood Jenny down in the middle of the floor. And, because he couldn’t resist, he gently moved a few tousled strands of corn-gold silk back from her face. ‘I will be waiting right outside the door to help you back to bed,’ he told her. The unsullied crystal of her huge blue eyes reminded him of an Andalucian mountain lake, caressed by sunlight. His stomach rolled over at the sight.

  ‘Okay…’

  When she emerged from the room a few minutes later Rodrigo once again swept her up into his arms to carry her back to bed. As she settled back under the covers Jenny’s expression was forlorn. ‘I’m so embarrassed that I’ve let you do all this for me that I almost don’t know what to say to you.’

  ‘Were you well last night?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Are you feeling any better today?’

  ‘No…But I still—’

  ‘Is there someone—some friend, family member or even a neighbour I can ring—who will come and take care of you for the next few days?’

  Rodrigo didn’t miss the flash of despair in her eyes. ‘Not that I can think of…no…’

  ‘Then there is nothing else for you to do but go back to sleep. I am here, and will remain so until such time as you are able to get back on your feet and go about your business as normal. If anyone rings to make a reservation then I’ll simply tell them we are closed until you are better.’

  ‘But what about your work? You came down here for a meeting, didn’t you?’

  ‘It is easy enough to delay for another day or two.’

  ‘You would do that for me?’

  ‘I know you find that hard to believe but, yes, Jenny…I would.’

  ‘Even so, I can’t let you, Rodrigo.’

  ‘You have no say in the matter. It’s my own decision. No one is forcing me to do anything I don’t want to do—least of all you.’

  ‘I feel so useless.’ Her pretty mouth struggling with emotion, she looked as if she might cry.

  Still feeling appalled that there was no one Jenny could ask to help but him—his own past neglect of her not withstanding—Rodrigo gave her a gentle shove so that her spun-gold head fell back onto the creamy white pillows.

  ‘Since I have already complimented you on your ability to make guests feel more than at home here, and have seen how dedicated you are to running things for Lily in her absence, that’s clearly not true. Go back to sleep. When you wake I’ll make you a cup of tea, if that’s your preference. But I warn you that my tea-making skills would hardly earn me a job working here.’

  Chuckling, he reached out to lay his palm flat against Jenny’s forehead. She was still unnaturally warm, but thankfully not as dangerously hot as last night. Cautiously, he prayed that meant her fever had broken and she was over the worst.

  ‘You’re a long way from recovered, querida, but hopefully you are on the mend. Right now I need a shower and a shave—then I’ll see what has to be done downstairs. Do as I say and get some more rest…I’ll return in a while to make sure everything is okay.’

  Settling back against the bank of pillows she’d just about mustered the strength to arrange behind her, Jenny swept her gaze round the sunlit bedroom with frustrated resignation and felt a little jab of fear piercing her. It was perfectly true that she felt weaker than a newborn foal, and twice as vulnerable, but to have allowed Rodrigo, her work-obsessed ex-husband, to postpone his business meeting to help take care of her…Well, it hadn’t featured in even her wildest dreams. And why had she trusted him so easily when his past record of considering her needs was so abysmal? It was inexplicable.

  She’d had similar issues with Tim. Jenny knew her brother wasn’t the type of man who could take care of anything much. He certainly wouldn’t have been able to even look after their home if she should have fallen ill. In truth, he would have simply gone out and left her. His attitude to any sort of responsibility was casual, to say the least. When she’d returned to live in her old home after she and Rodrigo had split up, the beautiful Victorian semi she’d grown up in had been an absolute tip. It had taken several weeks of diligent home-making application on Jenny’s part to restore it to anywhere near its former beauty and comfort.

  Then, after months of growing suspicion of her brother’s irresponsible behaviour, she’d discovered the real reason he was inclined to let things slide—and that included work. It was because he despised any demands that came between him and his increasing dependence on drugs.

  A flutter of pain tightened her chest. Dark times…Not the kind of thing Jenny wanted to recall when she was feeling so poorly.

  In stark contrast, the vibrant and charismatic Rodrigo had taken on the mantle of carer so gallantly and effortlessly that she was already half bewitched by him all over again. Dangerous. Her temperature had soared even higher when he’d swept her up into his arms to take her to the bathroom and back to bed when she came out. There was no disputing the man’s strength, or the beguiling warmth of his body at close quarters, or the fine and expensive way he smelled. But the situation couldn’t continue for much longer, Jenny vowed. Somehow she had to get better quickly to resume her stewardship of Lily’s guesthouse. It was kind of Rodrigo to say he would tell people they were closed until she was recovered, but it was her friend’s precious income she was denying if she allowed that.

  ‘How are you feeling?’

  The man himself stood in the doorway, carrying a tray with a cup of tea on it. The sight of him had the same effect as a shot of d
izzying adrenaline in the arm. He was wearing a fitted coal-black T-shirt and faded light blue denims that hugged his muscular thighs like a glove. The deceptively ordinary clothing must love being so close to his smooth bronzed skin, Jenny thought wildly, because the things they did for that mouthwateringly fit body surely shouldn’t be allowed in a defenceless woman’s bedroom.

  Flustered, she sat up a bit straighter against her pillows. ‘I thought about lying to you and telling you that I felt much better, but if I got up and fell flat on my face I realised you’d pretty soon get the picture that perhaps I should have made a will…just in case.’

  ‘At least you’ve got your sense of humour back. That’s got to be a good sign. And you’re not going to die…not on my watch.’

  Moving towards the bed, Rodrigo deposited her cup of tea on the nightstand.

  ‘Room service as well?’ Jenny quipped, wishing it wasn’t so hard to breathe whenever he came near. ‘Did you master that when you were starting out in the hotel business too?’

  Chapter Five

  ‘IF YOU want to learn how a business works from the ground up then you have to familiarise yourself with everything.’

  ‘I agree. When I first started doing interior design I found there were so many dimensions to it that I hadn’t realised. It made the work even more interesting, though.’

  ‘And how’s business these days?’ Rodrigo asked.

  ‘It’s been a bit up and down, which is why I could come here and help Lily out. But I’ve got a couple of good commissions coming up.’

  Her plump lower lip was receiving some unfair treatment from her teeth as she chewed on it, he observed.

  ‘Anyway…from what you say about the way you approach things it’s obvious that you’ve become a success because you’re so…thorough.’

  The corners of his mouth edged into a sardonic smile. ‘I am, as you say thorough. That applies to whatever I might be engaged in, if you recall.’

  Jenny lapsed into a self-conscious and pinkcheeked silence. Had the same stimulating scenario gone through her mind as had just flashed through his? Rodrigo certainly hoped so.

  ‘Thanks for the tea. You’ve made it exactly the way I like it.’

  ‘Muchas gracias, señorita.’ He made a mock bow. ‘I aim to please. Here.’ Carefully he passed her the cup and saucer, noting immediately that her hands shook a little as she accepted it. ‘And after you drink it you are to stay put for the rest of the day. I’ll see to everything else that needs to be done.’

  ‘I’ll have to pay you for your help, Rodrigo.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s only right. If you’re working for me I’ll have to pay you…especially as I’m delaying your return to your own job.’

  ‘That’s crazy talk. You need do no such thing.’ A spasm of anger shot through him that she would think for even a second that he expected to be paid for helping take care of her when she was ill. ‘Now that the rain’s stopped I’m going into the garden to check on the greenhouse. I’ll remove the tarpaulin we put up the other night and look over any damage that the storm might have caused. For lunch I’ll make us a simple soup—my cooking skills do actually exceed my tea-making ones, though I confess I didn’t demonstrate them when we were together. You were clearly a bit rundown for this fever to have occurred and no doubt your immune system needs building up again with good food.’

  ‘Right now I couldn’t contemplate eating anything—not when my sense of taste is probably nonexistent.’ Taking the tiniest sip of the hot tea he’d made, Jenny passed him back the delicate blue and white cup with its matching saucer almost immediately. ‘I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I feel so stupidly weak that I—’ Touching her hand to her head, she grimaced.

  ‘Does something hurt?’ Rodrigo demanded, examining her flushed pretty face with renewed concern.

  ‘My head feels like a re-enactment of the Battle of Waterloo is going on inside it,’ she answered. ‘I really need to shut my eyes again. Do you mind?’

  ‘Of course not…It’s clear that you are nowhere near recovered.’ After returning her cup and saucer to the nightstand, when next Rodrigo looked she’d slid back down into the bed and buried herself beneath the plump feather duvet like a small animal going into hibernation.

  ‘Rest, then, querida,’ he said with a smile, and although he would have been quite happy to stand and gaze at her for a while longer, he wrestled the desire to the ground and headed back downstairs.

  During the following three days it honestly went through Jenny’s mind more than once that if she slipped away into the afterlife one fever-racked night it might be a blessing. Never before had her constitution been under such miserable threat. But she held onto the vehement assurance that Rodrigo had given her—‘You’re not going to die…not on my watch.’

  Had she ever slept this much in the whole of her twenty-seven years? Her dad had told her once that even as an infant she had only slept six hours out of every twenty-four. Not much rest to be had then for her long-suffering parents.

  But during those memorable three days while she was ill Jenny heard Rodrigo moving reassuringly round the house, doing this and that, and at one point forced opened her heavy lids to see a smart-suited stranger urging her to ‘just relax’ whilst he placed a cold thermometer under her arm to take her temperature. Whatever the doctor concluded it had caused Rodrigo to move into her bedroom permanently, it seemed—because whenever Jenny did manage to open her eyes he was there in the rattan chair next to her bed, either scribbling away on a notepad with his pen or tapping away at the keys on his laptop. A couple of times she registered him speaking on the phone too…once in mellifluous Spanish.

  But, as much as his continued presence reassured her, Jenny had mixed emotions about it. Her tired brain could hardly credit why he would stay with her for so long and not simply leave…It was nothing like his old behaviour, when work had always come first.

  On the fourth day of her illness she woke up feeling less likely to die and longing for a bath. Her teeth were also in dire need of the brushing of a lifetime, because frankly her mouth tasted as though some small creature had crept inside and died in it. It was after eight in the morning, and the rattan chair beside her was empty of her handsome dark-haired guard. With a little jolt of unease in her stomach at the fresh realisation of just how much she had been relying on Rodrigo she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

  Wrong move, Jenny…The room spun alarmingly, as though she’d just stepped off a manically twirling carousel

  ‘What are you doing?’

  ‘I need a bath. If I don’t have one soon you’ll have to report me to the health and safety department.’

  Moving away from the doorway, his face unsmiling, Rodrigo walked right up to her. Recently showered and shaved, and wearing a fresh white T-shirt and black corded jeans, the man smelled gorgeous. It made Jenny all the more flustered and aware of her own less than scented condition after lying ill in bed for three days.

  ‘Are you up to having a bath, querida? Perhaps I could bring a basin of warm water and you could have a bed-bath instead?’

  ‘With you playing nurse?’ Her eyebrows flew up to her scalp. ‘I don’t think so!’

  ‘This is hardly the time for false modesty, Jenny Wren. Besides…’ a teasing spark of heat ignited in his soulful dark eyes ‘…I’ve seen you naked, remember? And not just when I helped you change into a fresh nightgown.’

  She’d been praying she’d dreamt that. Learning that wasn’t the case, she felt her heart skip an embarrassed beat. ‘It’s hardly gentlemanly of you to remind me about that.’

  He chuckled—a husky, compelling sound that made her legs feel weaker than water. ‘Sometimes I am a gentleman and others not. I don’t have to leave it to your imagination to wonder about the times I am not…do I?’

  Clutching the front of her nightgown a little desperately, Jenny tipped up her chin. ‘I have to have a bath. In fact I insist. Just leave me alo
ne for a while, would you? I’m quite capable of sorting it out for myself.’

  But he’d already stalked into the bathroom and turned on the taps. Stepping back into the bedroom, he dropped his hands to his hips, grinning with a distinct air of amused defiance at her disbelieving look. ‘Which bubble bath shall I pour in? You have several.’

  ‘I—I…’ Flustered, she bit heavily down on her lip again. It might appear ridiculous to Rodrigo to quibble about such an innocuous thing, but somehow pouring in her bath fragrance seemed like the ultimate in intimate acts when she was already feeling disconcertingly fragile. ‘I’ll do that.’

  Moving into the already steam-filled bathroom on legs that felt like cotton-wool, Jenny shouldn’t have been a bit surprised to find Rodrigo right behind her, but she was.

  ‘This is no time to be petulant,’ he told her, sternvoiced. He stepped in front of her, his black eyes roving her face as if he would know the secrets of her very soul. ‘Which fragrance shall I use? If you won’t tell me then I will put in the rose…especially since you reminded me of one from the moment I saw you in the reception area of the Savoy Hotel.’

  Stoically resisting a huge urge to cry, Jenny scanned the array of prettily shaped bottles on the shelf above the bath and sniffed. ‘That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.’

  Rodrigo took hold of her elbows and impelled her towards him, so that she had no choice but to make him the sole focus of her attention. ‘You didn’t always throw my compliments back in my face, Jenny…No,’ he added lazily, ‘sometimes they could make you blush, and other times make you extremely affectionate as I recall.’

  Now, as heat cascaded through her like a rampaging river, Jenny’s legs really did feel as if they might not hold her up for very much longer. There was a heaviness and a heat between her thighs she couldn’t deny.