Chapter 11
‘Grace, unlock the door or I swear I’ll break it down.’
Grace sat huddled on the end of the bed, and watched the heavy wooden door rattle in its frame. Javier wasn’t joking—any minute now she feared that the door would actually give way beneath the force of his blows. Dared she let him in? She didn’t know what to say to him, how to face him without revealing her heartbreak that had seen her spend the last hour weeping silently into the pillows.
‘Grace! Are you ill? Torres said you felt unwell. Speak to me, damn it.’ There followed a torrent of swearwords in low-pitched Spanish, a brief silence and then the sound of something heavy being rammed against the door.
Never mind knocking the door down, he was going to bring the castle crumbling around their ears, Grace thought angrily as she scrambled off the bed and marched over to the door. She turned the key and yanked the door wide open, just as he was about to land another blow with one of the solid oak chairs that usually stood in the hallway.
‘What do you want?’
‘What do I want?’ He slowly lowered the chair and glowered at her, looking so devastatingly sexy with his shirt buttons half-undone and his hair flopping onto his brow that despite everything her knees felt weak, and she gripped the door frame for support. ‘An explanation would be nice, querida,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Do you have a valid reason for your temper tantrum, or is it simply a bid for attention?’
‘At least you’re honest enough to admit that it was necessary for me to do something to drag you away from Lucita’s juvenile charms,’ Grace replied sweetly. ‘Tell me truthfully, Javier, why didn’t you just marry her when you had the chance, rather than putting us all through this whole miserable charade?’
‘By “miserable charade” I take it you are referring to our marriage?’ Javier growled savagely, his eyes glittering with fury as he pushed her backwards into the room and kept on pushing until she hit the bed with the backs of her legs and collapsed onto the mattress. In the lamplight he could plainly see the streaks of tears on her cheeks, and his eyes narrowed. ‘What’s all this about, hmm?’ he queried in a softer tone. ‘Did Lucita say something to upset you? I know she’s a little tease at times, but she means no harm.’
‘Doesn’t she?’ Grace gave a bitter laugh. ‘Well, you know her better than me. Do you think I didn’t notice the way you let her put her arms around you tonight?’ He’d been lavishing the Spanish girl with the tender affection that she so desperately craved.
‘I’ve known her since she was a baby!’ Javier said explosively. ‘I suppose I regard her as the little sister I never had.’
‘How sweet! And do you confide in your “sister”, Javier? Do you tell her your most personal secrets—like the reason why you married me?’
‘I’ve told no one,’ he denied forcefully. ‘The only person aware of the stipulations my grandfather made in will is his lawyer, Ramon Aguilar.’
Stipulations—so there had been more than one, Grace noted with a shiver. Lucita hadn’t been lying; the final clause in Carlos Herrera’s will, must have been for Javier to produce an heir before he could secure his place as head of the Herrera bank. Suddenly she felt bone weary and she longed to crawl away to a dark place and lick her wounds. ‘Well, Lucita knows, and you told her.’ She flung the accusation at him. ‘You must have done—how else would she have known?’ she added when he loomed over her, flames of fury dancing in his amber gaze.
‘I thought I could trust you,’ she went on bitterly. ‘But once again my judgement where men are concerned is seriously flawed. Don’t touch me!’ A shudder ran through her and she reared away from him when he tried to drag her into his arms. ‘I want nothing more to do with you, and from now on I’ll be sleeping in my own room until we can end this sham of a marriage.’
‘The hell you will!’ Javier foiled her attempt to scramble off the bed by lifting her off her feet and throwing her down onto the mattress with barely concealed savagery. Before she could react, he came down on top of her, pinning her wrists above her head with one of his hands while the other tore at the laces that fastened the bodice of her dress. ‘You’ve tried and convicted me without allowing me a word in my defence. But I don’t give a damn what you think, querida. You’re mine, bought and paid for, and I’ll dismiss you from my bed when I’m ready, not before.’
‘You can’t do this,’ Graced hissed between her teeth as she struggled wildly beneath him. ‘You…barbarian!’ She gave a cry when he wrenched the front of her dress apart, exposing her small breasts, which to her horror had already swelled in anticipation of his touch so that her nipples stood out as two provocative peaks.
‘Who’s going to stop me?’ Javier said with a harsh laugh. He dragged her sleeves from her shoulders and pushed her dress down until it bunched around her waist, before skimming his hand over her rib-cage to curl possessively around one soft mound. ‘You, querida?’ he taunted. ‘I don’t think so.’
His mouth curved into a cruel smile as he watched her pupils dilate. The one thing he could be sure of was her desire for him and right now he couldn’t give a damn about anything else. He bent his head and flicked his tongue across one breast, heard her whimper and drew the peak of her nipple fully into his mouth to torment her until she twisted her hips restlessly. Judging the exact moment when her pleasure became unbearable, he transferred his mouth to her other breast and meted the same punishment until she stopped fighting him and dug her nails into his shoulders.
Grace moaned when she felt Javier slide his hand beneath her long skirt and move with unerring precision to the top of her thighs. She was on fire for him, her whole body a limp mass of quivering need, and she was aware of the flood of heat between her legs as her body prepared for his full possession.
‘You won’t stop me, Grace, and we both know why.’ His voice smashed though the haze of sensuality that held her in its thrall and his triumphant tone sent her crashing back down to earth. How could she be so weak that one touch of his skilful hands was enough to have her practically beg him to take her?
‘Why?’ she croaked, finding no hint of softness in his glittering gaze.
‘Because you can’t resist me. Because you need me,’ he said, his eyes glittering with triumph.
For a few seconds her heart actually seemed to stop beating, and she licked her lips nervously with the tip of her tongue.
‘What on earth makes you think that?’ she demanded, striving to sound cool and controlled, and failing miserably.
‘You told me,’ he said simply, watching her eyes cloud with confusion. ‘Not with words, perhaps, but with your actions. Why else would you have come to me in Madrid and begged me to make love to you? You were adamant that you wouldn’t have sex with a man you did not love,’ he reminded her when she seemed to have lost the ability to speak. ‘But you couldn’t deny the fierce passion that burns between us.’
Oh! How could she have been so obvious? She had been so focused on her belief that giving her virginity to him had been the right thing for her to do—because she loved him—that she had given no thought to what he would make of her motives. He must have been secretly laughing at her for months.
Utterly humiliated, her desire drained away, and she shuddered when he dipped his fingers beneath her French knickers and moved inexorably towards the heart of her femininity. She had to stop him before he demolished every last vestige of her pride. Calling on all her reserves, she forced her lips into an amused smile.
‘As ever, Javier, you’re right. You said yourself, lust is a powerful emotion, and I came to you because I felt it was time I stopped living like a nun. Everyone had gained something from our marriage except me, and I decided to make the most of your reputed skill between the sheets. A reputation that’s well deserved, I might add,’ she drawled, ignoring the smouldering fury in his eyes. ‘You make an excellent stud, Javier.’
‘I’m glad you think so, querida,’ he said pleasantly, but she wasn’t fooled by his smile. Wi
thout giving her time to react, he dragged her knickers down her legs and pushed her thighs apart with one firm hand, while the other moved to the zip of his trousers.
‘No!’ Nausea swept through her and she put up her hands to ward him off. Despite everything she’d learned about him tonight, she still loved him—even though the realisation made her question her sanity. She couldn’t bear for him to take her in anger and turn something she found so beautiful into a primitive act of vengeance.
And what about the baby? she thought frantically. After everything Lucita had told her, she didn’t dare reveal to him that she might have conceived his child. She needed some time alone to come to terms with her pregnancy before facing up to the fear that he would want to take her baby from her when he divorced her. ‘Don’t do this, Javier,’ she pleaded as she watched the zip descend. ‘Don’t make me hate you.’
‘You think I care? Love, hate, they’re all the same to me,’ he growled savagely, but as he positioned himself above her, and moved to drag his trousers over his hips, he caught the shimmer of tears in her eyes and swore long and hard.
‘Dios Grace, what are you doing to me? I have never taken a woman by force in my life.’ With hands that shook slightly, he refastened his zip and jerked to his feet, his eyes glittering with contempt as he twitched her skirt down over her naked thighs. ‘You couldn’t hate me more than I hate myself,’ he told her in a flat, emotionless voice that belied the shaft of pain in his eyes. ‘I’ve always known that I am unlovable—I was told it enough times,’ he added harshly. ‘How could I have hoped that you were different—that you saw something in me that was not cold and embittered?’
‘Javier!’ The bleakness of his expression tore at her heart and she reached out to him, her hand falling back helplessly when he stiffened and swung away from her. ‘I never meant…I don’t think you’re heartless…’ She broke off, her eyes clouding as she remembered Lucita’s taunts that he had deliberately tried to get her pregnant because he’d needed an heir.
‘Then I suggest you revise your opinion, querida,’ he told her coldly. ‘Because I am as ruthless as my forebears who lived here in El Castillo de Leon.’ He gave a hard smile. ‘Did I tell you that Carlos refused to allow my father to visit my grandmother when she was dying? Even though she begged him. Fernando was her only son, but he had gone against my grandfather’s wishes by marrying my mother and Carlos banished him from the castillo for good. From the day I arrived here as a skinny, underfed peasant boy, I learned that power is everything and love counts for nothing.’
A cold hand of fear crept around Grace’s heart. ‘And do you still believe that, Javier?’ she whispered. ‘Would you really do anything to gain complete power of the Herrera bank?’
‘You already know the answer to that,’ he replied as he walked over to the door. ‘Don’t look so shattered, querida—you knew what you were taking on when you walked into this marriage. You have six more months or so remaining as my wife, and you’d better get used to the idea, because we made a deal and I won’t let you go until you’ve completed your side of it.’
Grace eventually fell into a fitful sleep and woke to find herself alone in the vast bed. She had no idea where Javier had spent the night, and when she was hit by a wave of nausea that necessitated an urgent trip to the bathroom she was thankful that he wasn’t around to question the reason for her sickness.
She couldn’t stay at the castle, knowing that the fragile life inside her was the final instalment of the deal she had struck with him. The welfare and upbringing of her baby were not up for negotiation, and while she had breath in her body she would fight for custody of the Herrera heir. Her child would be brought up safe in the knowledge of Grace’s unconditional love—unlike its father who had been denied affection throughout his formative years.
The queasiness was passing, and she swiftly threw a few of her belongings into a bag, taking care only to pack the items she had brought with her from England rather than anything Javier had bought her. When she crept downstairs, the castle seemed unusually quiet, but as she entered the dining room she stopped dead at the sight of Lucita Vasquez.
‘Where’s Javier?’ she queried sharply, painfully aware of her sickly pallor and lank hair in contrast to the Spanish girl’s glowing beauty.
‘He stormed off somewhere with Luca—after reading me the riot act,’ Lucita said sulkily. ‘Why did you have to involve me in your stupid row?’
Grace gave a harsh laugh. ‘You involved yourself. If Javier was angry with you, you only have yourself to blame. It’s about time someone told you to grow up.’
She broke off and bit her lip when Lucita stared speculatively at her holdall.
‘Oh dear, you’re not leaving, are you?’ the younger woman enquired in a saccharine tone.
‘I’m going to visit my father…for a few days,’ Grace muttered, refusing to admit that she had no intention of coming back.
‘Oh, really?’ Lucita’s black eyes suddenly gleamed. ‘With you out of the way, I’ll have a chance to patch things up with Javier.’ She threw back her head so that her luscious curls flew around her shoulders. ‘Do me a favour, and don’t rush back.’
Clinging to her dignity, Grace took out her keys and marched out of the castle, but as she ran down the steps tears blinded her eyes. Desperate to get away before Javier returned, she slid behind the wheel of the fancy sports car he had bought her and started the engine.
The snow that covered the mountain peaks of the Sierra Nevada never fell at this level, but the driving rain obscured her vision, despite the windscreen wipers working at double speed. Within minutes of leaving the castle she was desperately trying to negotiate the steep, winding road, and she gripped the wheel, remembering the first time she had driven to El Castillo de Leon.
Had she known then that she would lose her heart to the stern-faced Duque, would she have come? she wondered as tears streamed down her face. The answer was an unequivocal yes. She had been prepared to do anything to help her father—but now she had to protect her baby.
As she rounded the next bend she saw a car coming towards her, and to her utter shock she realised that it was Javier behind the wheel. Panic stricken, she hit the accelerator and the powerful sportscar surged forwards. The wheels spun on the wet ground and suddenly she was hurtling towards the trees that were all that stood between the road and the sheer drop over the side of the mountain.
She was going too fast—she couldn’t stop—and she screamed before she plunged into blackness.
‘Grace, open your eyes.’
The strangely disembodied voice sounded again, and with an effort Grace forced open her eyelids to stare up at an unfamiliar face. ‘Who…?’ Her whisper was a tiny breath of sound and the stranger smiled gently.
‘You’ve been in an accident, but everything’s going to be okay. You’re husband’s here.’
Grace barely heard the doctor’s words. Vague, broken images flashed into her mind—trees racing towards her at an incredible speed, the sound of the windscreen shattering, and she was filled with a feeling of utter dread. ‘My baby…?’
She was aware of a ragged groan from the other side of the bed, but all her attention was focused on the doctor as he slowly shook his head.
‘I’m sorry. You were in the early stages of pregnancy, but I’m afraid there was nothing we could do. I realise it’s no consolation right now, but your injuries are relatively minor and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have another baby in the future.’ The doctor patted her awkwardly and stood up. ‘I’ll leave you alone now,’ he murmured to Javier. ‘Your wife was incredibly lucky that the trees acted as a barrier and prevented her car from crashing down the mountainside. Her cuts and bruises will heal, but losing your child must be devastating for both of you.’
Grace closed her eyes and tears seeped from beneath her lashes. Her heart felt as though it had been scraped raw, and she just wanted to be left alone to cry in private.
Had Javier gone? She opene
d her eyes again and met his dark, unfathomable gaze. His face looked as though it had been sculpted from granite and as she stared at him she noted the nerve that jumped in his cheek. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, although she didn’t know why. It was herself she felt sorry for, and her baby who she had let down so terribly.
More tears fell and Javier watched them, no flicker of emotion on his face. ‘You weren’t going to tell me about the baby, were you?’ he said, his voice rasping in his throat.
‘How could I?’ she demanded bitterly. ‘When I’d just learned from Lucita that you had deliberately planned for me to conceive your child and intended to take him…or her…from me after our divorce.’ Her voice faltered but she forced herself to go on. ‘I know about the final clause in your grandfather’s will.’
‘Dios, there is no final clause,’ Javier growled, making an effort to keep his voice down. ‘What you heard, and chose to believe, was the spiteful, overactive imagination of a spoiled girl who had become more obsessed with me than I realised.’
Grace stared at him wildly, unable to take in what he was telling her. ‘But Lucita…’
‘Told you a pack of lies. I never told her the reason for our marriage, but her father and my grandfather were old friends and she overheard Carlos telling Miguel about the marriage stipulation he had added to his will. The rest she made up.’
‘She was so convincing,’ Grace whispered as the stark reality of what she had done sank in. She had denied Javier the chance to defend himself and instead had listened to a schoolgirl who was plainly jealous of her. She had paid the price of her mistrust by losing her unborn child, and from the look in Javier’s eyes she’d also lost any chance she might have had of winning his love. The realisation was unbearable, and she turned her head away from him.
The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride Page 15
