A Spanish Marriage

by Diana Hamilton

  But today he’d got really heavy and she’d literally had to fight him off, and that wasn’t her idea of harmless fun. And coming back he’d driven like a maniac, which hadn’t been a bundle of laughs, either.

  Happily, she dismissed him from her mind. She was supposed to be seeing him tonight with some of the others, and no doubt he would try to make a joke out of her guardian’s old-fashioned heavy-handedness and if she defended him, as she knew she would, they would think she was really uncool. Besides, she didn’t want to go clubbing while Javier was here. So she’d cancel.

  She turned her attention to Javier, a river of delicious excitement running right through her. He was still watching Ollie tramp down the long drive. The moment she’d seen him walk out to the car, his face like a thundercloud, her heart had soared on wings of joy. He’d been away for so long. She’d missed him for every minute of every day. Giving Boysie one last cuddle, she set the little dog down on its small hairy feet and walked round the bonnet of her gorgeous little car towards him.

  Dancing eyes watched the way he slid her car keys into the pocket of the sleek-fitting dark trousers of a business suit, watched the play of seriously honed shoulder muscles beneath the fine white cotton of his shirt as he at last turned to face her.

  ‘You came! You remembered!’ She could hardly get the words out through a smile wide enough to split her face in two, through the absence of breath that always afflicted her when in his presence.

  He said nothing, just studied her through the thick veiling of those heavy black lashes, his beautiful all-male features impassive. ‘Remembered?’ he enquired blankly.

  So he hadn’t come to celebrate her birthday with her tomorrow. Her smile slipped then powered out again. It didn’t matter. He was here, that was all that mattered. She desperately wanted to hurl herself at him and give him a huge hug of welcome but knew she mustn’t. After what had happened in Spain he would think she was making amorous advances again. Her cheeks reddened at the embarrassing memory of how crass and obvious she’d been.

  Belatedly, she answered his question with a tiny dismissive shrug. ‘Nothing. Forget it.’ This time her smile was simply polite. She must make herself remember not to wear her heart on her sleeve. ‘It’s lovely to see you. How long are you staying?’ If he said five minutes she’d curl up and die with disappointment!

  He gave her a level look as inner anger stirred. He should have kept a closer watch over her, dammit. A flash of memory seared his brain. The only holiday he’d shared with her. At his parents’ winter home near Almeria. Zoe scrambling out of the pool as he approached. Her tiny bikini. Throwing herself at him, arms clinging, lips kissing, lips saying ‘I love you, love you! I always have!’

  His put-down had been firm but kind. Surely he’d been kind? Whatever, the incident had thrown him off balance, making him neglect a duty for the first time in his adult life. He’d kept physically well away from her, knowing that the schoolgirl crush would fade to nothing but an embarrassing memory if it had nothing to feed on.

  He vented an impatient breath. He was wasting time. He wasn’t here to beat himself up over past mistakes. He gave back, ‘Long enough to sort out your immediate future. Shall we go in?’

  Tensing, trying not to let her draining disappointment show, Zoe followed, the faithful Boysie at her heels. He hadn’t been able to hide that flash of anger, or keep the impatience from his voice. Was he still mad at her for not trying to find a place at university as he and the trustees had suggested?

  Or was he just plain fed up with having his self-inflicted care of her hanging around his neck like a heavy weight he wanted rid of? Regretting ever having agreed to Grandmother Alice’s request?

  It surely looked like it, Zoe thought numbly as she followed him into the spacious sitting room. The early loss of both her parents coupled with Grandmother Alice’s emotional rejection had taught her not to let anyone get close enough to hurt her.

  Except for Javier.

  Why did she still love him, want him as close to her as a second skin? Why lay herself open to the desperate hurt he’d been unknowingly doling out ever since they’d made that bargain on the day he’d driven her away from her grandmother’s home?

  She prided herself on being a tough cookie—was she tough enough to accept that he’d never see her as anything but a bit of a nuisance, the rare claims she made on his attention a waste of his precious time? Time he’d much prefer to be spending on his business empire or the latest sophisticated, full-grown woman to be sharing his bed.

  She’d have to be, wouldn’t she? Starting as of now! Ignoring the sweep of a strong, long-fingered hand towards one of the armchairs that flanked the flower-filled hearth, she walked to the padded window-seat, clutched at Boysie as he leapt onto her lap and turned her cool golden gaze on Javier.

  He didn’t sit. He felt too wired up. Zoe Rothwell had developed into quite something since he’d last seen her. The pale, water-straight blonde hair had grown, framing delicately lovely features, her skin smooth and warmed by a light summer tan. A tall girl, five eight at a guess, her body was supple as a sapling, the pale cream cotton trousers she was wearing emphasising the graceful length of her legs, the narrowness of her waist where the sleeveless button-through tawny top she was wearing tucked into the waistband.

  He could quite see why Sherman was sniffing around her—and with her future fortune as a welcome bonus he wouldn’t give up all that easily! The unwanted memory of how her practically naked body had felt against his assaulted his brain. He had done the right and honourable thing but that low-life would have taken full advantage. His fists clenched at his side, the knuckles showing white against the taut, tanned skin.

  But before he waded in, all guns blazing, he had to find out just what her relationship with Sherman was, quiz her about the wild crowd Ethel had mentioned. For all he knew his housekeeper might be overreacting. Bunching his fists into the pockets of his trousers, he frowningly sought the right opening, but his mind kept straying to the way the sunlight through the window behind her gilded her pale hair, wondering if it felt as silky as it looked. His frown deepened. He hated this unprecedented inability to concentrate on the matter in hand.

  Judging by the scowl that brought those black brows down above the narrowed, silver-glinting beautiful eyes, Javier was wishing he’d never set eyes on her. A wash of desperate emptiness drained the light out of her eyes. Almost four years ago she’d fallen in love with him and since then he’d rarely been out of her mind.

  Long years of wondering when he’d visit, of waiting for the post in case he’d written, of her heart jumping into her mouth every time the phone rang, longing for it to be Javier asking to speak to her, of trying to model herself on the type of women he favoured, sleek, sophisticated and sexy. And a fat lot of good that had done her when he hadn’t clapped eyes on her for over a year!

  She’d behaved like a spineless lovesick wimp. And it had to stop. Right now. He’d never feel anything for her other than irritation if his present taut, straddle-legged stance and frowning charcoal gaze was anything to go by. So what? she asked herself on a spurt of self-protective rebellion. So she should get herself a life and not mourn what she could never have.

  In the tense silence she registered the inward tug of his breath, saw the firm mouth begin to relax and jumped in before he could give her a lecture, most probably about her unsuitable choice of car. The last thing she wanted to do was quarrel with him. She had to stay cool if her newborn resolve to put what she felt for him behind her and make a life for herself was to stand any chance at all of surviving.

  ‘You said you wanted to discuss my immediate future.’

  ‘Exactly.’ His eyes narrowed on the way her slender fingers were fondling the ugly dog’s floppy ears. The weird little creature looked as if it were in paradise.

  Her chin lifted at a proud angle, defiance in her eyes as she gave him her steady regard. ‘I’ve decided it’s time to split,’ she told him levelly. ‘I’m leg
ally adult. I’ve kept my side of the bargain we made and you’ve kept yours—to the letter, if not the spirit. So—’

  ‘Whoa!’ Javier put in, suddenly intrigued by the clipped concisiveness of her cool silver voice, the implied criticism. ‘Are you telling me I’ve gone back on any of the promises I made?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Zoe averted her eyes from his too-fabulous lean features. Drinking in the hard slash of his cheekbones, the mind-blowing masculine sensuality of that kissable mouth was definitely no part of the cure she was utterly determined to effect.

  ‘I finished my education in exchange for the holiday treats you dangled under my nose,’ she pointed out with perfect cool. ‘You arranged the promised skiing break—and sent your current woman with me. Glenda, wasn’t it? Did you really have to bribe her, as she told me you did? Then there was Paris—Sophie went with me. And we mustn’t forget the Italian lakes—Sophie again, or—’

  ‘Enough.’ A raised hand sliced her to silence, which, she belatedly realised was just as well because he wasn’t a fool and he’d be getting the message that the term break treats had meant nothing to her without him. Besides, the only time he’d accompanied her, the Easter before last, had led to that shamefully revealing episode beside his parents’ swimming pool and that was something she was determined to forget about. Pretend it hadn’t happened.

  ‘I wanted you to have some fun in your life,’ he told her solemnly. ‘I cared about you, but I’m not cut out for hands-on nannying,’ he qualified.

  ‘Cared about’. Past tense. That said it all, didn’t it just. She’d been a brat and for some reason he’d felt sorry for her and taken her under his wing. But now she was adult he wanted rid of the responsibility. Even though it was something she’d suspected, hearing it put into words hurt so much. She felt like bursting into tears of heartbreak. But wouldn’t let herself. She had to handle this like the adult she was. Make a clean break. Forget him. Make her own life.

  ‘Exactly.’ Her voice was cool but she felt sick inside. ‘I no longer need nannying so consider yourself off the hook. I intend to ask the trustees to let me buy a small place of my own. I want my independence.’

  Javier’s mouth flattened with irritation. ‘Independence to do what? Run around with the likes of Sherman, stay out all night with no one to ask awkward questions, get behind the wheel of a racy sports car you haven’t the experience to handle?’ Not while he had breath in his body!

  Zoe compressed her full lips, her eyes sparking rebellion. Ethel had been telling tales. That was what his rare appearance was all about! Nothing to do with wanting to say hello, spend some time with her.

  ‘A girl needs to have some fun,’ she sliced at him, affecting a blaséness she was far from feeling. She’d been lonely here so she’d done something about it. Joined the local tennis club, made friends, mixed with a smooth crowd, blowing her allowance on new clothes, treating her mates to lavish meals at fancy restaurants, clubbing, champagne flowing. She knew her friends sucked up to her for what they could get out of her but she didn’t care. At least their flattery and company helped fill the empty space in her life. Ollie might say he loved her, but she knew he didn’t. The only unconditional love she had came from Boysie and her cats.

  As if to demonstrate her spiky inner thoughts a sleek black cat jumped through the open window behind her and with a chirrup of pleasure settled high on her chest, much to Boysie’s annoyance.

  Javier’s dark brows met as compassion flooded his veins. She’d said a girl needed fun but what this girl needed was love. She’d been starved of it since she was eight years old and that had made her tricky. Tricky and needy, easy prey for the likes of Sherman. It was up to him to keep her safe. There was no one else.

  Venting a sigh, he joined her on the window-seat and took the hairy little dog onto his own lap. The black cat settled more comfortably on Zoe’s knee. She was stroking it, her hair falling forward, veiling her face from him. His eyes were strangely mesmerised by the movements of those long, slender fingers.

  Gathering himself, he pointed out flatly, ‘You have to know that I’d veto any suggestion that you have your own place at the moment, but that doesn’t mean we have to fight over it.’

  No verbal reaction. Just a slight stiffening of her slender shoulders. He resisted the strong urge to pull her towards him, give her a reassuring cuddle. It would ease his conscience but, recalling the incident in Spain, she might get the wrong idea.

  ‘What I suggest is this—we book you a crash course of professional driving lessons and keep the Lotus locked in a garage until you’re capable of handling it. And we’ll decide what you want to do with your life. I’ll make sure I’m around to help you,’ he impressed heavily, continuing more lightly, ‘You once said you were interested in charity work; that might be the way to go. On the other hand,’ he ploughed on—difficult to keep sounding like a kindly uncle in the face of her total lack of response—‘you could enrol for a course in anything that takes your fancy.’

  Setting the cat down, Zoe got to her feet, her movements fluidly dismissive. Wordlessly, she left the room, her golden head high. The little dog leapt from Javier’s lap and pattered after her. Javier’s chest tightened with an inward tug of breath. Guilt swamped him. He blamed himself for her wayward non-cooperation; he should have been around far more often. When she’d been a kid he’d known how to handle her, she’d always responded to him. He didn’t know what made the newly adult woman tick.

  Zoe hadn’t let herself cry. She never cried. But the hurt was difficult to push away. As little as an hour ago she would have welcomed his interference in her life with open arms if it meant he was going to be around more often. Bent over backwards to please him, knowing he would be giving her his time and attention, clinging onto the childish hope that he would grow to feel something for her.

  But that wasn’t going to happen. She had finally accepted it. At long last she had stopped fantasising.

  When Oliver Sherman rang her mobile she sat cross-legged on her bedroom carpet to take his call. His run-in with Javier hadn’t fazed him. Merely, ‘Your guardian’s a bossy bastard, Zo, but it needn’t spoil our plans. Obviously, I can’t pick you up this evening, but Guy’s willing. He’s bringing Jenny, and the three of us will collect you at seven—I thought we’d eat first so I booked us in at Anton’s for half past and we’ll go on from there. OK? Oh, and while I think about it, you can give me the keys and I’ll pick the Lotus up when we bring you back, provided the boss is tucked up in bed! I hate being without wheels and until I hear from the insurance bods about my latest write-off, I’m stuck. You still there, Zo?’

  She pulled in a deep breath. Because Javier was home she’d fully intended to cancel. But things had changed. Her determination to stop herself loving him was still a touch shaky so it would be better if she didn’t have to spend too much time around him.

  A fun evening with her friends, even if she did end up picking up the tab, was probably just what she needed to take her mind off Javier. And she’d grab the opportunity to take Ollie aside and tell him that if he wanted to keep her friendship and have the loan of her car in return for teaching her to drive, there must be no more repetitions of what had happened this afternoon.

  ‘Seven it is, then,’ she said coolly and cut the connection.

  Zoe was on the doorstep at five to. All trigged out in her finest, making a statement.

  Her freshly washed hair was caught back from one side of her face with a sparkling gold clip, echoing the gold of the band she wore on one wrist, picking up the tawny bronze of her sleeveless, almost backless silk sheath, the finishing touch of strappy bronze sandals adding four inches to her height.

  Her mirror had told her she looked flirty. Expensive and flirty, startlingly reminiscent of the Glendas and Sophies of unfond memory. Set for a fun evening with smooth friends who knew their way around. Which should show Javier that he couldn’t interfere in her life.

  Even Ethel, catching sight of her
as she’d sauntered down the stairs, had popped her eyes. ‘I take it you won’t be in for dinner?’

  ‘Full marks for observation,’ had been her less than friendly response, pay-back time for snitching on her, a response she had immediately regretted because she liked Ethel in spite of her habit of handing out boring lectures. She would apologise tomorrow, she vowed as Ethel turned on the heels of her sensible shoes and bustled away. She wouldn’t want to hurt her for the world.

  And quite why she’d been in such a sudden rush was made clear when moments later Javier appeared at her side.

  The inside of his head felt hot and churned. She looked stunning. The thought of her out on the loose made his brain boil.

  ‘Going somewhere?’ he gritted, his eyes sliding with involuntary precision down the length of her exquisite naked spine, dragging them smartly away as she dipped her head in acknowledgement, adding, not looking at him, ‘With my friends,’ laying cool emphasis on the final word.

  ‘Including Sherman?’

  ‘Naturally.’ Zoe didn’t have the courage to look at him. He was so close. Everything inside her seemed to leap out, strain to touch him. Her body was needy for him, for the strong warmth of his arms, the touch of his beautifully made hands, for his mouth, his wanting mouth…

  She was getting nowhere in her useless attempt to stop loving him! Still fantasising about how his mouth would feel if he kissed her! Her teeth gritted together, her shoulders tensing as she willed Guy’s car to appear on the long sweeping drive so that she could jump in and escape.

  As her ears strained for the sound of an engine Javier’s words came like an electric shock. ‘Go to the study. Now,’ he added with deadly purpose as he watched her head jerk up and back in what he knew had to be defiance. Tacking on with grim determination, ‘Go under your own steam or I carry you. It’s your choice. I’ll let Sherman know you won’t be available to see him.’