Baby Surprise for the Spanish Billionaire

by Jessica Gilmore

  ‘Just keep going, yell if you get bored. I’m off for a siesta.’ He stepped back again and then again, turning to make his way out of the galley to the padded upper deck, aware of the puzzled, slightly hurt look Anna gave him as he retreated. Suddenly this trip didn’t seem like the best idea he’d ever had. In fact it felt downright foolish, the two of them cooped up on a boat that usually felt so spacious, but right now seemed cramped, claustrophobic even, although he was breathing in the salt-tanged sea breeze, nothing overhead apart from blue sky and hot afternoon sun. What was going on?

  Leo took a deep breath. Let’s be rational here. He was attracted to Anna, good old plain and simple lust. It just seemed odd because he was usually careful not to get close to people of substance, of intellect. Didn’t allow himself to forge ties that might have any durability. He didn’t know how to handle a woman who made him sit up and think, who made him want to challenge not just who he allowed himself to be seen as, but who he truly was.

  He grabbed a pair of sunglasses before lying down on the comfortable padded sun deck, folding his hands under his head and staring up at the sky. This ennui wasn’t new, but it was getting more and more pervasive. It had followed him around for the last few years, tainting every success, cheering the occasional failures. After twelve years his nomadic life seemed hollow, meaningless, making money no longer gave him the same thrill—but he knew no other way.

  Somehow this last week, painstakingly painting and repairing, was the most satisfying week he could remember in a long time.

  Leo shifted uncomfortably. The ennui might not be new, but it had certainly intensified ever since Valentina had announced her engagement. Like him she was very careful about what she revealed to the public gaze, like him she was all myth and mystery masquerading as reality. She didn’t create, she didn’t sing or act or dance, her fame solely concentrated in what she wore, where she was photographed and with whom, and she elevated what could be seen as vacuous existence to an art form. Not that he judged her, no, his little sister who had grown up knowing only poverty and deprivation deserved every moment of her success. But she had changed over the last year, both sharpened and softened by love. She was canny enough to use her wedding and her fiancé’s connections to promote her own career, to turn herself into a serious supermodel, push her brand upmarket, but she truly loved Todd. She had lowered her defences where he was concerned, had allowed him to see the sweet young woman behind the polished, posed exterior. What had that cost her?

  He’d never know, because he would never make himself so vulnerable. What if he allowed someone in and they saw that he was exactly who he thought he might be: a sharp-minded, money-making machine with no real soul? All Leo knew was that he didn’t want to find out—and whether that was self-preservation or fear he had no idea. No idea at all.

  He sat back up, impatient with the dark thoughts clouding what was supposed to be a carefree afternoon. He didn’t do introspection, remember? He did what he pleased. And right now what he wanted was to cool off, to slew the self-doubt right off.

  Anna had kept the boat going in a fairly straight trajectory, the coastline visible on the far horizon. Leo scanned it. There. Perfect. Jumping to his feet, he sauntered back to the cockpit, careful to keep his face as insouciant as possible, to ensure none of his indecision was written anywhere on his body. ‘How’s it going?’

  ‘Good, as long as I don’t need to change direction or speed and nothing gets in my way.’ Anna turned and smiled and Leo’s heart stuttered to a stop for one long moment as he drank her in, the tousled waves falling over her shoulders, the bikini revealing more than it concealed and the new, relaxed glint in her eye, the natural smile, the confidence in the way she stood. Funny, he had spent the last few moments questioning who and what he was, whereas Anna seemed to have slewed off her uptight and organised persona with the casting off of the boat.

  He stood a good foot away, not sure he wanted to be within touching—or smelling—distance of Anna, not until he felt a lot more like himself. ‘Fancy a swim?’

  ‘Here?’

  ‘Close. There’s a bay just ahead. We can anchor at the mouth to it and swim off the boat.’

  ‘Won’t the water be cold?’ she said, screwing her face up doubtfully. ‘It’s still early in the season.’

  ‘We’ll find out when we get in. Where’s your sense of adventure, Dr Gray?’ he added and saw the doubt clear off her face as if it had never been.

  ‘If I get frostbite I’m suing you,’ she said. ‘Okay, Captain, guide me in.’

  Leo took a deep breath. It would be all too easy to walk over and help her steer into the harbour, to lean against her, to put his hands against hers, to feel the suppleness of her waist, to inhale her scent, but that kind of thinking was why he needed this cold swim in the first place. It was all his own fault. He’d wanted to see Dr Gray unbuttoned—he just wasn’t expecting her bikini top to show off quite so many enticing curves when she did so.

  ‘Okay.’ He leaned against the window, arms firmly folded, not allowing himself to step within touching distance. ‘You need to relax your grip on the throttle and turn the wheel like that, yes, that’s good, a little gentler. Keep her on that course...’

  It didn’t take long for Anna to steer the boat into the mouth of the cove. It was deserted, the turquoise sea lapping against the volcanic rocky shore, the cliffs rising up ensuring that the only people to enter the cove would be doing so via the sea. ‘What a gorgeous spot.’ Anna stood, staring out at the view, spellbound.

  ‘I’m going to anchor the boat. It’s calm today, but we still don’t want it to drift off and leave us marooned here.’ Although there would be worse people to be marooned on a desert island with. She would be bound to come up with a plan for food, shelter and rescue within twenty minutes of a shipwreck.

  Anna followed him out onto the deck and watched as he unwound the sea anchor, casting it out, calculating just how much chain it needed this close to shore. ‘Do you live on this boat all the time?’ she asked as he straightened.

  ‘Not continuously. I have an apartment in Barcelona, but I do spend most of my time on here.’

  ‘Doesn’t it get scary? Alone at sea at night?’

  ‘I’m not often alone,’ he said deliberately and watched her cheeks flush. Leo didn’t want to analyse just why he was pushing his playboy credentials so hard when the truth was he hadn’t actually slept with a woman in over a year. ‘Nor do I moor out at sea. It can be dangerous, even with warning lights on. I’m usually in a harbour somewhere.’

  ‘It doesn’t get claustrophobic? Living in such a small place?’

  ‘She’s bigger than an average studio apartment in London or New York. Besides, who can get claustrophobic with the sky overhead, the sea all around and the knowledge that as soon as the scenery palls I can pull anchor and go wherever I wish? Cannes, Monte Carlo, Ibiza...’

  ‘Anywhere as long as it has a coastline,’ Anna pointed out.

  ‘Anywhere I want to go does have a coastline.’ Leo peered over the side of the boat, one hand on the anchor cable checking for stability. ‘This looks fine. Okay, Dr Gray, let’s see just how spontaneous you can be.’ He flashed a smile at her as he shucked off his shorts, turned and jumped off the boat, gasping as he dived cleanly into the sharp cold.

  * * *

  Anna stood by the rail, laughing as Leo surfaced spluttering. ‘Is the temperature good for you?’ she called.

  ‘It’s perfect, come in and try it,’ he called back, flipping on his front to shoot through the water with bold strong strokes. Anna couldn’t stop her gaze lingering on his dark, muscled limbs, on his clean lines, the moment he had stood in front of her bare except for his swim shorts emblazoned clearly on her mind. He looked good for someone who apparently spent his life at parties, and it wasn’t as if there were a gym on-board.

  Strange he actually lived on a boat, even a
boat as luxurious and spacious as this. It didn’t look like a home; there were no photographs, no knick-knacks, nothing to personalise it at all.

  Leaning over the rail, Anna looked down at the dazzling blue sea, aware how deceptive its welcoming was. Even paddling was cold; here in deeper water the temperature would be decidedly chilly. Still, she was supposed to be spontaneous, wasn’t she? Remembering that she was on holiday as well as working. Rosa would already be in the water, swimming after Leo, flirtatiously instigating a water fight. In fact, she probably would just jump straight in either with her clothes on or with no clothes at all. At least Anna was wearing a bikini...

  It would be spontaneous if she weren’t...

  A smile curved her mouth as she pictured the shock on Leo’s face, the way his brown eyes would darken to black. She’d been so aware of him as he had showed her how to drive the boat, so very close she could have leaned back just a little and pressed against him. He’d been aware of her too, she knew it. If she dived in next to him, in her bikini or out of it, would that awareness be sharpened, heightened? Probably.

  Did she want that? Could she handle it?

  Anna shivered, her skin goosebumping despite the heat in the late spring air. What was she doing? Leo was flirty, sure, but he probably flirted more with Sancia, with Maria the maid, than he did with Anna. They had barely spoken over the last week.

  Barely spoken maybe, but she had been aware of his every move, every look. And she knew he had been equally aware of her.

  She should stop thinking and start doing. Have some fun for the first time in a long, long time.

  And with that thought memories hit. Another swim, another man. An outdoor swimming pool, a glass of champagne or two. Memories of clothes discarded recklessly, of the way she had dived in, turning to smile provocatively, knowing he would follow. Knowing, wanting, welcoming what would happen next.

  Only she hadn’t been in any way prepared for what happened next. It turned out that spontaneity had consequences, that a playboy couldn’t be reformed.

  Almost without intending to Anna folded her arms around herself, as if she could cocoon the hurt, the memories safely inside, almost shaking with grief, with embarrassment for the naïve girl she had once been. Her hand slipped down to her stomach, pressing hard against the flatness as if she could keep all the hurt, the memories contained within. But she would never forget the scorn in Sebastian’s eyes the moment before he turned and walked away from her.

  Anna swallowed, her throat thick with tears. Spontaneity wasn’t for her, she knew that all too well, and playboys who lived on boats were definitely not for her. Let Leo have his swim. Then she would demand he turn the boat around and take her back to La Isla Marina, back to safety and sense. Where she belonged.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BY THE TIME Leo finished his swim Anna had composed herself, sitting at the galley table, a glass of water before her, scrolling through her phone, barely looking up as he strode in, a towel around his shoulders, drops falling from the sleek dark head.

  ‘You didn’t want a swim?’

  ‘Not really.’ She couldn’t look directly at him in case he saw through her casual tone. ‘Leo, this is lovely, but...’

  ‘You want to go back?’

  ‘Yes, I think that’s best.’ She raised her eyes to his face then, but his expression was utterly inscrutable.

  ‘Before or after dinner? Only if I remember rightly there’s a great seafood restaurant along this coast, not too far along. Shame not to try it.’

  Home, now, her instincts screamed, but her good manners won out. ‘Dinner would be nice. Thank you.’

  Anna returned her attention to her phone, glad of the ever-present excuse of emails to occupy her, to stop her watching Leo towel himself dry. Her agent and editor had both sent impatient if encouraging questions about her progress, her father had sent a brief, terse message asking what the password was for their online supermarket account and, in the space of just a few hours, her mother had managed to send her several emails, complete with many exclamations and emojis denoting goodness knew what, Anna certainly didn’t.

  She reread the first of her mother’s lengthy missives and couldn’t help exclaiming, ‘Oh, brilliant!’

  Leo paused. Anna did her best not to notice how the white towel set off his tan, how the casual way it was draped over his shoulder emphasised every sculpted muscle. ‘What is?’

  With an effort she tore her gaze back to her phone. ‘Sancia’s received a huge delivery, all the wedding decorations including fairy lights, tablecloths, candles—everything we need apart from the flowers, which are apparently coming on the actual wedding day. Valentina has sent everything labelled and ready to go. That’s a huge amount of work saved.’

  ‘Val mentioned it was on its way. That reminds me, she was hoping that her favourite restaurant in Barcelona will be able to cater the actual reception. Will that cause any problems?’

  ‘Actually it’s a relief. The kitchen staff can concentrate on producing the food for the rest of the week. I know the day after the wedding Valentina wants paella on the beach, but they still have five more dinners to plan, plus all the breakfasts, lunches and snacks. Every dish has to be traditionally Spanish with vegetarian, vegan, nut-free, dairy-free and gluten-free options as well—which does make the traditionally Spanish part a little tricky.’

  ‘I’m surprised that’s all the options she’s asked for. You wait till you meet her guests—and start meeting their demands. You will be earning every cent, believe me,’ Leo said darkly.

  Anna pushed her hair out of her eyes as she leaned back against the comfortably padded bench. ‘I can’t help wondering why the short notice for the wedding—and why hold it somewhere she hasn’t even seen? It seems odd for someone whose life is so public to be so hands-off with something so important—my most down-to-earth friends are completely consumed by their weddings. I can’t imagine any of them getting married somewhere they haven’t actually been to!’

  She still wasn’t sure why Leo was here on Valentina’s behalf. He obviously cared enough about her to consider her to be like a sister to him, but apart from their nationality they appeared to have nothing in common. Valentina lived in New York, was an Internet princess and hung out with a group of privileged, beautiful, fashionistas; Leo lived in Spain and his social group, although equally privileged, was much wilder. And nothing Anna had come across on social media linked them in any way. Not one photograph, not one friend in common, nothing except they were both Spanish, both hailed from near Barcelona.

  ‘La Isla Marina wasn’t the original venue,’ Leo said, pulling on a T-shirt, to Anna’s equal relief and disappointment, before he slid onto the opposite bench, grabbing her glass of water and taking a long sip. ‘She was planning to hold the wedding at the villa in Ibiza where she met Todd.’

  It all began to make a little more sense. ‘What happened?’

  ‘Fire, catastrophic apparently. There was no way the villa could be repaired in time. She needed somewhere here, in Spain, able to host one hundred and fifty guests for the week on just over a month’s notice...’

  ‘Where better than a resort so down on its luck, they had no guests for the start of the season at all? Lucky for her, lucky for Mama. But she knows nothing about us or La Isla Marina. I know she’s busy, but I can’t believe she hasn’t visited yet to check everything out.’

  ‘She spent several summers on the island when she was a child. She has very fond memories of it. That’s why she was so keen to relocate the wedding to it. Why I’m so keen to make sure it’s ready for her.’

  ‘She was a guest on La Isla Marina? When?’ Not recently, obviously, but if Valentina had spent a holiday when the island was in its heyday then it was no wonder she had switched the wedding over; when it was at its best there was nowhere more magical. More romantic.

  Leo shook his head. ‘Not a g
uest. Her mother worked for your grandparents for two or three summers starting when Valentina was around eight. That’s why she knows it so well. She lived there too over those summers.’

  Anna thought back, but there was no niggle of recognition. Her grandparents had often hired couples as seasonal workers and as a result there had usually been a small gaggle of workers’ children running around the place. Families were housed in small apartments in and around the villa, the children looked after at the same holiday clubs as those set up for island guests. ‘When she was eight? She’s what? Twenty-one now? That means she would have been there when we still went for the whole summer. Only I doubt I would have taken much notice of her,’ she added.

  ‘Sí, I’m sure a maid’s daughter was far too below the owners’ granddaughter to be noticed.’ His voice was cutting.

  ‘No.’ She sat up, indignation crashing through her at Leo’s scathing tone, her face hot. ‘Not at all, but if she was eight I was fifteen and at that age that’s an entire generation gap. The different ages didn’t mix, but that was the only barrier. Some of my best summer friends had parents who worked on La Isla Marina, only a few were visitors. That was really uncalled for.’

  ‘I apologise. It’s just people can be...’ he paused ‘...rigid, about things like class.’

  ‘Well, I’m not and nor were my grandparents. Mama will remember her, I’m sure. So the wedding is a homecoming?’ That made a difference, somehow. Welcome as the money would be to Sancia, making this effort for one of the island’s daughters seemed right somehow.

  ‘A homecoming?’ he echoed. ‘Maybe it is. Lucky Valentina, to have a place she considers home.’ He slid out of his seat, his face shuttered. ‘I’ll go and haul in the anchor. Let me know if you want to try that restaurant or head straight back. I don’t mind either way.’