Oh, God. The silent despairing groan remained locked in her throat. Don’t go there.
It took all her effort to tilt her head a little and summon a wry smile.
‘What would you have me offer? Hello, how are you? seems…’ She paused deliberately. ‘Inadequate?’
‘Incredibly banal,’ Gianna concluded, and saw his eyes darken.
‘Now, there’s an interesting word.’
She glimpsed a muscle bunch above the edge of his jaw and felt a moment of satisfaction as she enjoyed the small visible sign of his tension.
Even though she wore high heels Raúl still towered above her, and she tilted her head in order to align her eyes with his.
‘What brings you here?’
‘Australia? The Gold Coast in particular?’ he drawled, and she swept an arm to encompass the boutique.
‘Here.’
One eyebrow lifted in cynical query. ‘To see you.’
‘A phone call would have taken care of whatever you have to say.’
‘If you chose to take my call.’
Would she have? She still had his name on her caller register. So she could pick up or ignore if he rang. He hadn’t, but she’d felt the need to have the option.
‘I can’t imagine anything being sufficiently important to warrant your personal appearance.’
He looked at her carefully, examining her slender form…more slender than he remembered. Pale features beneath the skilled touch of light make-up, the almost undetectable shadows beneath her brilliant blue eyes. The deep-beating pulse at the base of her throat.
Not so calm beneath her projected persona, Raúl detected with a degree of satisfaction. ‘No?’
She couldn’t quite restrain the faint edge to her voice. ‘There’s nothing you could say that I want to hear.’
At that moment the door buzzer sounded, and it took her a few seconds to ignore the silent as if I need this now? before she turned towards the entrance.
‘Excuse me? Are you still open?’
Raúl inclined his head towards Gianna in silent query, admiring her switch to polite composure as she summoned a smile and moved forward to greet the customer.
‘Is there anything I can help you with?’
‘The large red bowl in the window display. As soon as I saw it I knew it would be perfect.’
‘Exquisite, isn’t it?’ Gianna relayed with professional ease. ‘Imported Venetian glass.’ She crossed to the display and carefully removed the item. The ticket price was clearly visible and, although expensive, the woman didn’t hesitate.
‘I’ll take it.’
Gianna produced a warm smile. ‘Is it a gift? Would you like it gift-wrapped?’
‘If it’s no trouble.’
‘It’ll be a pleasure.’ It took only minutes to extract the appropriate box and carefully package the bowl, select wrapping paper, ribbon and effect an elegant bow.
With deft movements the task was completed, credit card swiped, a signature attached to the slip, and a very satisfied customer expressed gratitude as Gianna accompanied her to the entry, wished her good evening, then carefully locked the glass doors.
‘Do whatever needs to be done, then we’ll leave.’
‘We?’ Gianna queried with deliberate emphasis as she crossed to the sales counter. ‘I’m not going anywhere with you.’
‘I think you will.’ His voice held a dangerous silkiness, and her eyes sharpened into deep blue shards.
The thought of sharing time with him and pretending to make polite conversation was the last thing she wanted to do.
‘Give me one reason why I should.’
He didn’t prevaricate or lead into it gently…just a single word, aware that it would get her attention as no other would. ‘Teresa.’
Gianna’s eyes widened, only to cloud with concern at the mention of his mother. For it had been Teresa Velez-Saldaña who had welcomed her son’s lover with affection, fondly sanctioned the marriage and wept genuine tears at the loss of their child.
A very special woman, who’d kept wise counsel when Gianna had left Madrid, and who’d chosen to remain in contact at regular intervals…warm, quirky missives despatched in a continued bid to maintain their close bond, including an open invitation for Gianna to visit at any time.
Letters to which Gianna had responded with caution at first, managing to overcome her initial reserve only as the months passed with no mention of Raúl’s name.
Her stomach clenched in pain at the thought Teresa might be ill, injured or…heaven forbid…worse.
‘No.’
‘No what?’ Gianna demanded trenchantly, unbearably irked that he still retained the ability to read her mind. Somehow she’d imagined, hoped, she had acquired an impenetrable façade in the past few years.
Apparently not.
For a long moment she simply looked at him, silently daring him to shift his gaze. Except he didn’t, and she became conscious of the pulse at the base of her throat kicking into a quickened thud.
Every cell in her body seemed to blaze into life, and she hated that he knew.
‘Tell me, dammit.’
His eyes darkened measurably. ‘A few weeks ago Teresa was diagnosed with inoperable cancer.’
For a few seemingly long seconds she was lost for words. ‘Teresa made no mention of illness in any of her letters,’ she managed at last—for affection, trust and mutual respect had developed into a genuinely warm friendship between both women. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘Yes, I believe you are.’ His eyes held her own, and she almost swayed at the intensity of his gaze. ‘Enough,’ he continued quietly, ‘to fulfil one of her dearest wishes?’
She schooled her voice to remain calm in spite of the premonition that she wasn’t going to like what he intended to say. ‘If it’s possible,’ she managed with instinctive caution.
‘Teresa has requested the pleasure of your company.’
Gianna froze, the colour leaching from her cheeks, revealing starkly pale features as she contrived to control the onset of nerves threatening to play havoc with her emotions.
‘In Madrid?’ An unnecessary query, when she already knew the answer before he could confirm it.
‘Initially.’
CHAPTER TWO
MADRID.
The city where Raúl resided and ruled his late father’s multibillion-dollar consortium.
A silent scream rose and died in her throat at the mere thought of seeing him, pretending politeness whenever he visited to spend time with Teresa.
As he would…often.
She couldn’t do it.
Amend that… She didn’t want to be anywhere near Raúl. She especially didn’t want to be placed in a position over which she had little control.
‘You can’t be serious?
His eyes held hers, compellingly intent. ‘Very serious.’
A host of conflicting thoughts swirled through her brain.
If she agreed…
Are you insane?
She had a business to run. She couldn’t just pick up and leave at a moment’s notice.
‘A few weeks of your time, Gianna,’ Raúl pursued, his voice dangerously soft. ‘Is that too much to ask?’
Her first instinct was to offer a resounding yes…even as her head reeled at the mechanics involved.
She’d need to appoint Annaliese as interim manager, employ another staff member, organise stock, orders…
A silent groan rose and died in her throat.
Oh, hell, why was she giving it consideration? The whole thing was impossible.
Raúl caught a glimpse of each fleeting emotion on her expressive features and was able to divine every one of them.
‘Teresa looks upon you as her daughter,’ he offered quietly. ‘Irrespective of our estrangement. There are a few special items…heirlooms…she wants to gift to you in person.’
No. The negation rose and died in her throat.
Please don’t do this to me.
‘I
couldn’t possibly accept them.’
‘Why not?’
‘They should belong to you,’ she said quickly. Too quickly. The words tumbled without thought. ‘Your family. Your wife.’
Oh, God, what had she said?
With a sense of horrified dismay she saw one eyebrow slant with a hint of humour. ‘You are my wife,’ Raúl reminded her silkily. ‘Or had you forgotten we’re still legally married?’
Forgotten? How could she forget, when never a day went past when his image didn’t come to mind? Or night…when he managed to invade her dreams.
‘You can’t expect me to agree,’ she managed at last.
‘There is a valid reason why you can’t?’
Several, she longed to fling, truly torn as she mentally weighed her loyalty to a genuinely kind woman who had gifted unconditional support at a time when she’d needed it most.
To give in would mean revisiting painful memories, not the least of which took the form of the indomitable man who now stood before her.
A man whose physical impact affected every nerve in her body, heightening tension to an electrifying degree.
Three years, she agonised silently, and nothing had changed.
‘There’s a lover you’re reluctant to leave?’
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his assumption. As if. Any man she’d encountered after Raúl didn’t come close, for there was no spark, no quickening of her pulse…nothing.
Yet how many lovers had he taken since she’d walked out on their marriage? Sierra Montefiore…had she quickly resumed her former place as one of them?
The mere thought sent a shaft of pain arrowing through her body.
‘Yes,’ she revealed with unaccustomed flippancy, knowing it to be false…unless Jazz, the black-and-white moggy she’d adopted from an animal rescue centre, counted. Male, he curled up on her bed every night, his warm, furry feline body a welcome comfort.
Raúl’s eyes darkened, then narrowed a little so fleetingly she almost missed it.
‘I’m sure he can exist without you for a few weeks,’ he drawled with dispassionate coolness.
Gianna pretended to consider the possibility. ‘Doubtful.’ Jazz would protest volubly at being deposited in a boarding cattery, and probably disdain gifting her his affection for days on her return. The little fluff-ball possessed a territorial personality…the apartment was his. Anyone who entered was duly inspected, reluctant approval given or denied, and thereafter subject to slit-eyed feline observance.
‘Yes or no, Gianna.’
She cast him a disparaging look. ‘In case you haven’t done your homework, I run this boutique with one part-time member of staff. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave at a moment’s notice.’
‘I wasn’t aware I’d asked that of you.’
‘Really? The man who snaps his fingers and every employed minion jumps to obey your command?’
Amusement lifted the edges of his mouth. ‘You are not one of my minions.’
‘Hallelujah.’
‘Have dinner with me, and we’ll discuss whatever arrangements you need to make.’
‘I don’t recall saying yes, yet.’
‘You didn’t need to.’ The dry tones held a degree of mockery…something she chose to ignore. There was the temptation to stand her ground, except it would prove an exercise in futility.
Without a further word, she crossed to the serving counter and dealt with the sales register, where it took only minutes to check folding money, credit slips, assemble the cash float. When she was done, she dimmed the overhead lights, collected her bag, engaged security and indicated they should leave.
Raúl loomed large at her side as they walked towards the escalator, and she was all too aware of his close proximity not to mention how he affected her. It wasn’t fair to feel like this after an absence of three years. Hateful to be transported back to a time when she’d lived for him…only him. Even thinking about him had made her happy, and as soon as he’d appeared it had been all she could do not to break into a quickened pace and leap into his arms.
The way he’d laugh and hold her close, nuzzle the soft curve at the edge of her neck…then cover her mouth with his own in a kiss that reached down into her soul.
Heaven, she reflected as she stepped off the escalator, feeling momentarily bereft that what they’d once shared had been lost.
‘I’m staying at the resort directly opposite.’ Raúl indicated as he joined her. ‘We’ll eat there.’
‘I have plans for the evening.’ Some plans, she reiterated silently. Drive home, change, feed Jazz, make herself something to eat, watch television, then call it a night.
He spared her a level look. ‘Postpone them.’
Gianna turned to confront him. ‘And if I choose not to?’
‘Do you particularly want to indulge in a verbal fencing match?’
He was standing too close, and she was suddenly all too aware of the subtle aroma of his cologne, light with musky undertones. Indisputably his, as if crafted especially for him.
It stirred her senses and awakened too many sensitive nerve-endings for her peace of mind.
Raúl’s eyes narrowed fractionally, almost as if he knew, and it irked unbearably…so much so she raked his tall frame from head to foot and back again with slow deliberation.
‘Let’s get one thing straight.’ She took a deep calming breath. ‘If I agree, it’ll be on my terms,’ she qualified as her eyes seared his own with unblinking determination. ‘It’ll take days, possibly a week, for me to organise staff, contact my clientele, suppliers, ensure there will be no hiccups with replacement stock arriving on time. When that’s in place, I’ll take the first available flight to Madrid, arrange hotel accommodation, and inform you of my arrival.’ There was more, and she delivered the words with precise care. ‘Meantime, I suggest you return to Madrid.’
‘That’s it?’ he queried silkily.
‘Yes.’
He regarded her with dispassionate imperturbability. ‘No.’
‘No—what?’
‘We’ll return together in my private jet, and hotel accommodation isn’t an option.’
‘That’s ridiculous.’
Only a fool would refuse to travel in the maximum comfort afforded by luxury fittings which included a lounge that converted easily into a working office, a bedroom with en suite bathroom…and being served by a personal in-flight attendant.
Except it meant endless air hours secluded in Raúl’s company something she’d do almost anything to avoid.
‘I’d prefer to take a commercial flight.’
For a long moment he regarded her with lazy appreciation, and there was nothing she could do to still the increased tempo of her heart…or the faint shivery sensation feathering her fine body hairs.
‘Teresa has a full complement of medical staff on hand. The villa in Mallorca is large, and she insists you stay there as her guest.’
Mallorca? ‘I don’t think…’
‘Determined to fight me on every issue, Gianna?’
‘You expect anything less?’
‘Shall we call a temporary truce?’
She looked at him carefully. ‘It’s been a long day. I have work to do and calls to make.’
‘In which case you can eat and leave. An hour, Gianna…or less.’
Reluctance vied with determination to prove she was immune to him. A distinct untruth, if ever there was one, but she refused to concede him so much as a glimmer of satisfaction. You can do this, she vaunted silently.
She effected a seemingly careless shrug. ‘I guess so.’
Raúl spared her a musing glance and caught the faint air of tension apparent in her demeanour. She reminded him of a gazelle, uncertain whether to trust or flee.
With good reason, he admitted silently as he indicated the escalator at the eastern end of the spacious forecourt.
For flee she certainly would if she suspected there was another reason for Teresa’s request. One infini
tely more precious than the personal gift of a few heirlooms, or the pleasure of spending time in Gianna’s company.
The fervent hope Teresa held for a reconciliation between her son and the young woman he’d taken as his wife.
A young woman so well matched to his needs it seemed almost a crime for the marriage to have fallen apart.
Dusk was falling as they crossed the overhead pedestrian walkway to the popular low-level resort. Already streetlights shone, and in the distance the tall concrete sentinels harbouring luxury apartments bore illumination against a darkening skyscape.
The expansive resort foyer, with its plush oriental carpet squares and large comfortable chairs, bore a Caribbean air which extended to a wide marble staircase leading down to ground level. A magnificent waterfall cascaded into a decorative pool, and beyond huge thick plate glass lay an extensive swimming pool, with an island bar fronting on to a sandy foreshore and the sparkling blue waters of the Pacific Ocean.
The à la carte restaurant held a small clientele as the maître d’ led the way to a table by the window, saw them seated, and summoned the drinks steward.
Raúl’s presence garnered discreet attention especially from the women present. Not surprising, Gianna reluctantly conceded, given his attractive broad-boned Mediterranean features.
There was something that set him apart from his contemporaries. An elusive ruthlessness lay beneath the sophisticated exterior, meshing an inherent masculine vitality with latent sensuality. Add an animalistic sense of power, and the combination proved electric…dramatic.
Fine tailoring, handcrafted shoes, the faint glimpse of a Rolex gracing his wrist, merely showcased a man whose presence was equally dynamic in anything he chose to wear…or not.
As she could attest to…and she hated the sensation that shook her slender form as an image of his splendid body unadorned rose to taunt her.
The broad shoulders, superb musculature, lean waist and hips, tight butt, long powerful legs. Awesome…in every area.
She recalled how it felt to be held close to him, the faint muskiness of aroused male combining with his elusive cologne…oh, God, his skilled touch with his mouth, tongue, fingers, as he sought out every sensitive pulse, each erotic nerve-end in a bid to escalate her emotions to fever-pitch…
Public Marriage, Private Secrets Page 2
