‘Your freedom will be guaranteed.’ Unable to resist dropping his face into her neck and inhaling that musky vanilla scent that turned him on so much, he added, ‘And so will mine.’
CHAPTER FIVE
CHARLEY WAS OUT of the centre before Raul’s watch registered her being even one minute late. She hurried to the car, her excitement tangible. She’d been the same that morning, unable to keep still for a second, downing coffee as if it were going out of fashion but unable to eat a morsel of the eggs his chef had cooked for them.
She pulled the passenger door open. ‘Is it done?’
‘Yes.’
She punched the air. ‘Thank God.’
‘You’re welcome. But Raul will suffice.’
She pulled a face at him and laughed. ‘Right now, I’m so happy and grateful I’ll call you anything you like.’
He bit back the quip forming on his tongue, not wanting to break the moment. Seeing the delight on her face lightened his blood.
It had been a long time since he’d seen that smile.
A skinny, balding man poked his head out of the building. Abandoning Raul, Charley hurried over to him, hurled her arms around his waist and kissed his cheek. The man disappeared back inside with a beaming grin of his own.
She rushed back to the car, jumped in, shut the door without slamming it and yanked out the band holding her hair in a ponytail. Tidying her hair with her fingers, she looked at him, her eyes bright with excitement.
‘Who was that?’ he asked in as nonchalant a voice as he could muster. Watching his wife throw her arms around another man had felt...disturbing, like having pins stuck into his flesh.
For the first time, he confronted the possibility that there had been another man in her life since they’d parted.
Two years was a long time to be alone.
‘Seve—he runs the centre. He’ll be sharing the good news with the others.’ Charley’s happiness was so infectious even the car seemed to react to it, an upbeat song playing out from the radio.
But what was she so happy about? Raul’s purchase of the building? Or the fact she’d spent most of the day with Seve?
‘I hope they enjoy the moment.’ He killed the radio and put the car into gear. It was only three p.m.; if traffic was kind, they could be back in Barcelona within a couple of hours. His helicopter pilot was primed for take-off.
‘I’m sure they’ll celebrate all night.’
‘Do you wish you were celebrating with them?’
‘I would love to.’ The longing was clear in her voice.
If she was hoping he’d relent and let her stay in Valencia for the night, she was doomed to disappointment. They’d made a deal. From this moment on, Charley was his.
‘This Seve, he is a good friend of yours?’
‘Yes.’
‘Is that all he is to you? A friend?’
She twisted in her seat to stare at him. ‘Are you trying to find out if Seve and I are lovers?’
‘Are you?’
‘He’s married.’
‘And so are you.’
Her cheeks tightened. ‘I wouldn’t be if you’d signed the divorce papers when you’d first got them, but even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t mess about with a married man.’
‘And what about single men? Have you “messed about” with many of them since you left?’
She was silent for a moment before answering, her voice as taut as her features. ‘I will tell you how many men I’ve messed around with after you tell me how many women you’ve been with. Obviously I know about Jessica, so that’s one. How many others?’
If she only knew the truth.
How would she react if he were to tell her that since she’d left there hadn’t been anyone else? He would visit his hotels and cruise liners, be surrounded by semi-naked women flirting outrageously with him, and feel nothing. He might as well have been dead from the waist down. Jessica was famed as one of the sexiest women in the world but even she’d left him cold.
He wouldn’t give Charley the satisfaction of the truth.
But neither did he want to hear if she’d had other lovers in their time apart. Nothing good could come of it.
Four months was ample time to get her out of his system. By the time those months were over, his libido would surely be begging for variety.
‘Giving numbers is vulgar and unbecoming,’ he said smoothly.
‘I quite agree.’
His gaze darted briefly to her. ‘But to be clear, while you are back in my bed, there will be no other men in your life.’
‘I’m only yours until the renovations are complete,’ she reminded him with a pointed look. All the euphoria she’d displayed when she’d got into the car had now gone.
‘But until then, cariño, you are mine.’ To reiterate his point, he put a hand on her thigh and squeezed it lightly, before moving it to change gear.
He heard her suck in a breath and hold it for the longest time.
‘Have you got the deeds?’ she asked, her voice now flat.
‘I have a copy of them in my briefcase. You can have them when we get home.’
Soon enough they would be back.
Soon enough she would be back in his bed, right where she belonged.
If she’d had any lovers in the time they’d been apart he would ensure they were obliterated from her memory, leaving only him.
Yes. Tonight she would be his again. All his.
* * *
Charley entered the villa feeling as if the weight of the world had landed back on her shoulders.
For a few brief minutes, when Raul had confirmed the purchase of the new building, she’d felt so light-headed she wouldn’t have needed the helicopter to fly.
Then he’d ruined it all by implying there was something romantic going on between her and Seve. This, from the man who’d been bedding a hot lingerie model.
Raul had carried on with his life as if she’d never been a part of it. All her paranoia from their marriage had come true, her secret fear that, as had always been the case with her father, when Charley was out of someone’s sight she was out of their mind. Forgettable. Replaceable.
Raul had moved on. New home, new lover, new everything.
If only it had been as easy for her to move on too.
Her life had become rich with friends—real friends; their meal with Diego and Elana the previous night had brought home to her how wonderful it was to have true friends. Elana’s friendship had been foisted upon her when she and Raul had first got together. Originally a receptionist for Diego’s world-famous plastic-surgery practice, Elana was now the epitome of high-society goddess with a perfectly straight nose, sculpted cheekbones and inflated breasts. All of the other ‘friends’ Charley had made in their time together had been of an identical mould.
Far too well-mannered to say anything derogatory about Charley’s outfit, Elana had been unable to hide the flicker of shock when she’d cast her eyes over her. For her part, Elana had been dressed from top to tail in the required designer label, her gold shoes so high Charley had felt sorry for her feet. Not even the red stilettos she’d forced her feet into on Saturday night had been that high.
Looking back, Charley struggled to understand how she’d allowed herself to suffer such self-inflicted torture. She’d thought nothing of wearing five-inch heels for a full day at work.
But it had been expected of her. She had been the wife of Raul Cazorla and she had been expected to dress and act the part, including cultivating friendships with like-minded women.
The only real friendship she’d made had been, funnily enough, with Marta, Raul’s sister, who was an incredibly smart and amusing woman.
The strange thing was, while they’d been eating last night, she’d noticed so man
y new things: the way Elana picked at her food as if scared to consume a calorie more than was good for her, the way she deferred to her husband before offering an opinion...all the things Charley had once done. And just like that, she’d seen all the insecurities running under Elana’s surgically lifted skin. Being the trophy wife of a successful, rich, handsome man wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Charley should know. It had broken her in the end.
Even so, there was no hiding away from the knowledge that for the past two years she’d been empty inside, as if a big hollow had opened up in her belly. She hadn’t so much as looked at another man.
Raul called out to her from the living area.
She found him pouring a bottle of red into two glasses. He handed one to her.
‘To us,’ he said, raising his glass.
‘To the new centre,’ she corrected, chinking her glass against his.
‘You can’t have one without the other.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘I have given you what you want. Now it is time for you to fulfil your end of the bargain.’
It didn’t take Einstein to know what he meant, or a mind-reader to read his thoughts.
He took a sip of wine, his full lips pressing together as he swallowed, his blue eyes holding hers in the way that had always made her melt.
She did the same now, a rush of heat pooling low in her belly and spreading out to her limbs.
Her mind ran amok as she took a steadying sip of her own wine, remembering all the nights they’d come together, devouring each other, loving each other...
Don’t go there, Charley. He never loved you, only loved who he wanted you to be. You were never good enough for him as you were. You’re worth even less now, nothing more than a warm body for him to use to sate himself whenever and wherever the mood strikes.
She was good for only one thing. He’d spelled that out loud and clear. And now he wanted his payment.
It was the reminder she needed.
The reality of making love—no, having sex—with him for the first time in such a manner had the effect of making her libido nosedive to her toes.
Whatever wrongs he might believe she’d done to him, she deserved more than to be taken at his command and only for his pleasure. Whatever gratitude she might feel for him saving the centre plummeted with her libido. The financial cost to Raul was so tiny in comparison to his wealth it would be akin to a normal person buying a bottle of wine.
She cleared her throat, determined to stall the moment for as long as she could. ‘I would like to take a look at the deeds.’
The strangest expression came into his eyes. ‘As you wish.’
He stepped over to his briefcase, which he’d placed on the bureau, and unlocked it. About to open it, he was distracted by his phone vibrating. He grimaced and shrugged before pulling it out of his pocket, looking at the screen, and deciding whoever was on the other end was worthy of his attention.
He left the living room and disappeared, she assumed to his study.
Relieved for a few more minutes’ grace, she pulled her own phone out of her bag and answered the dozens of messages that had come through from overjoyed staff and the children’s parents alike, all of whom had been waiting on tenterhooks like her.
Done, she stared at Raul’s briefcase, which was still where he’d left it, unlocked.
Unable to wait a moment longer, she opened it and pulled out a hefty brown envelope lying on the top. She had a quick peek to make sure it was the deeds and not another business-related document that was none of her concern.
A fresh wave of excitement swept through her when she saw the address of the new centre in the middle of the cover page. She pulled the thick sheath of papers out of the envelope and rifled through them, her mind awhirl with all the plans she had for the centre, plans that would now become a reality.
Her grasp of Spanish had increased greatly in the past two years but legalese was a whole new ballpark. All the same, she persevered, right through to the last page. By then she’d finished her wine and was ready for another glass, but, rather than pour herself one, she stared at the pages with a frown.
Something bugged her. She couldn’t think what it could be but her intuition told her something was off.
She started scanning the pages again, fiddling with a lock of hair as she forced herself to concentrate...
The bastard!
Now she knew what was wrong.
Sucking on her little finger, she skimmed through all the papers one more time looking in vain for her name.
In a maelstrom of anger and indignation, she stormed to his office and shoved the door open.
Raul was sitting at his desk, phone in one hand, a pen twirling between the fingers of his other.
‘You lying, manipulative...’ she said, throwing the deeds onto his desk.
He stilled for a moment, then spoke quietly into the phone and disconnected the call.
‘Has something upset you?’ he asked with steely calm.
‘These deeds are in your name.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed.
‘You said the building would be mine.’
‘No, I said the building would be in the Cazorla name and that is exactly what I have done.’
‘You know perfectly well I thought it was being put in my name. I was going to form a trust and hand it over to the centre!’
He laughed. ‘Then it seems I made a wise decision to put it in my name. What do a bunch of childminders know about managing a project such as this?’
‘Don’t speak so...so derogatorily about them,’ she snarled, pulling the word out after having it trip over her tongue. She hadn’t even known what derogatory meant five years ago. ‘Besides, they weren’t going to manage the project, I was, and I know a lot more than you credit me for. I didn’t go into this lightly.’
‘Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t; it doesn’t change the fact that you couldn’t get the financing for it and for the very good reason that your track record in business is abysmal.’
‘You’re sick,’ she seethed. ‘You’ve done this deliberately, haven’t you?’
He shrugged. ‘Does it matter? The end effect is the same—the building will be used for a new centre.’
‘But under your control.’
‘I am not a team player, cariño. I don’t deal with collaboration. You will get your centre but you will not have the opportunity to mess up the renovations.’
‘I am not going to mess this up!’ she shouted.
He gave her a measured stare. ‘Control your temper. It is most unattractive.’
‘Do you think I care what you find attractive?’
‘You should, considering the project hasn’t even started yet.’
She knew exactly what he meant. ‘Are you seriously serious? If I don’t toe the line then you’ll pull the plug?’
‘If necessary. But as I’ve said numerous times, if you fulfil your side of the bargain then I will fulfil mine.’
‘You lied to me.’
‘No. You made assumptions.’ He rose from his seat and rested his hand on the desk, leaning forward. ‘I made it very clear that I would be taking control. I will be in charge and you will be by my side. Look at it from a positive perspective—this time you’ll see how a project is conducted properly all the way to its conclusion.’
The anger inside her had risen so high it threatened to choke her. The worst of it was that she knew he was right. She had made assumptions.
But, damn him, he’d let her.
She’d known from the start that her husband was a competitive man who had to be the best at everything he did. He wasn’t satisfied until he’d mastered whatever he’d set out to do. In this case he’d set out to master her, to punish her for her refusal to have the child he thought was his due.
Unable to be in the same room as him for a moment longer lest she throw something at him, she stormed out and ran up the stairs to the sanctuary of the room she’d made her own.
The room was empty.
She checked the wardrobe, the dresser and the bathroom. Every single one of her possessions had gone. The bed had been stripped, the white mattress and plump pillows lying there uncovered as if in forlorn sympathy for her.
‘Your belongings have been moved into my bedroom.’
She spun around to find Raul pressed against the doorway.
‘Nice to know you didn’t waste any time,’ she said, not bothering to hide her contempt.
He smiled lazily and stepped over to her, placing his hands on the tops of her arms and leaning down to breathe into her hair. ‘Your anger is a waste of your energy.’ His voice dropped as he slid his hands down her sleeved arms and covered her balled fists. ‘Come, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping for the next four months.’
‘I’d rather sleep in a box,’ she hissed, somehow managing to hold back the burn of angry tears that had welled in her eyes.
‘Cariño, are you deliberately trying to rouse my anger?’ he asked in a caressing tone that contained an edge of warning.
‘Why should I be the only one to be angry?’ she demanded. ‘You’ve hoodwinked me.’
‘I’m investing a great deal of money in your scheme and I want to protect it.’
She forced her voice to remain calm. ‘Will you sign the deeds over to me when the renovations are complete?’
He contemplated her silently and his blue eyes narrowed. ‘If you can prove yourself to be focused, and by that I mean that you keep your focus until the renovations are complete, then I might consider signing it over to you.’
‘Might?’
‘I will not make a false promise, cariño.’ His voice dropped to a purr and he dipped his face into the curve of her neck and traced his lips gently over her skin. ‘Enough talk about deeds and renovations. I can think of a much better way to pass the time.’
The Perfect Cazorla Wife Page 6
