Wed for the Spaniard's Redemption

by Chantelle Shaw

  As he threaded his way back across the crowded ballroom he was waylaid by his half-brother. ‘How are you, Francisco?’ he greeted the young man.

  ‘I’m in shock,’ his brother said with a grin. ‘Mamà has told me that you have a wife, but she seems to think it is suspicious that you married so quickly.’

  Rafael knew it was not his half-brother’s fault that their mother favoured him, her youngest son, and would do anything to see him succeed Hector. He did not like deceiving Frankie, but he could not risk Delfina discovering that his marriage was fake.

  ‘No one was more surprised than me when I fell in love with Juliet,’ he murmured. It was odd how easily the lie fell from his lips.

  ‘I can’t wait to meet the woman who finally persuaded you up the aisle. She must be amazing.’

  ‘She certainly amazes me,’ said Rafael, thinking of Juliet’s latest startling revelation. ‘I’ll introduce you to her when I find her.’

  He frowned as he scanned the ballroom but failed to see a sparkly gold dress.

  * * *

  Juliet stepped through the glass doors leading from the ballroom onto a wide balcony. Immediately the buzz of chattering voices and the music from the band became muted. It was a clear night, and she tipped her head back and studied the stars glittering like diamonds against the inky backdrop of the sky.

  The party wasn’t as daunting as she had expected, and apart from an awkward moment when Rafael’s grandfather had made an unpleasant comment to her she was enjoying herself.

  She had never dreamed when she’d been cleaning floors in the shopping centre that she would ever wear a beautiful ball gown, drink champagne and dance cheek to cheek—well, cheek to chest, she amended—with her impossibly handsome husband.

  She leaned her elbows on the top of the stone balustrade and stared out over the dark garden. The mingled scents of jasmine and bougainvillea filled the air and she breathed deep, trying to slow the frantic thud of her pulse as she remembered the expression on Rafael’s face when she had walked down the stairs in her glittering gold ball gown.

  He had looked stunned—as if he couldn’t believe it was her. And she understood the feeling because when she’d seen her reflection in the mirror after Sofia had applied the finishing touches to her make-up she had hardly recognised herself.

  ‘My brother is in for a shock,’ Sofia had said in a satisfied voice. ‘You look amazing.’

  Juliet felt amazing. Rafael had told her she looked beautiful and her heart had leapt when she’d seen the unmistakable gleam of desire in his green eyes. It had restored her pride after he’d looked at her with such disdain on the day of their wedding, when she had walked down the stairs at Ferndown House wearing that hideous dress.

  But none of this was real, she reminded herself. Oh, the ball gown which shimmered every time she moved was real, as were the dozens of new outfits—some formal, some more casual, but all of them exorbitantly expensive—that filled her wardrobe. She had new shoes too: numerous pairs of elegant high heels made of softest Italian leather in a variety of colours, with matching handbags, and accessories including silk scarves and some pieces of modern, chunky costume jewellery made from semi-precious stones. She had thrown away all her old clothes, apart from a couple of leotards and her pointe shoes that she’d kept as reminders of her life as a ballerina.

  Juliet knew it would easy to be swept away by the magic that had transformed her from looking and feeling unattractive to a realisation that she looked quite nice in clothes that fitted properly. But she must not forget the reason why Rafael had married her, and she must not allow herself to be seduced by a self-confessed playboy who had made clear his scathing opinion of love.

  Not that she would be foolish enough to fall in love with him, she assured herself.

  ‘Why are you out here alone?’

  Rafael’s gravelly voice sent a prickle of awareness across Juliet’s skin and she spun round and found him standing close beside her. Much too close. Heat exploded inside her when his thigh brushed against hers.

  He looked incredible, in a superbly tailored black tuxedo, white silk shirt and a black bow tie. A lock of his hair fell forward across his brow, and the shadow of black stubble covering his jaw gave him a rakish look that was spine-tinglingly sexy. Memories assailed her of the way he had held her tightly against his strong body while they had danced together. She had felt the warmth of his skin through his shirt and seen the shadow of his black chest hair beneath the fine silk. She’d wanted so badly to tear open the buttons and run her hands over his naked torso...

  ‘I came outside for some air.’ She gave him a rueful smile. ‘I am no more alone out here than in the ballroom, where I don’t know anyone.’

  ‘You know me.’

  ‘Not really. We are strangers, thrown together in this crazy marriage.’

  He frowned. ‘We need to spend some time getting to know each other or we won’t manage to convince my grandfather that our relationship is genuine. For a start, why didn’t you mention before that you trained as a ballerina?’

  ‘I didn’t think you would be interested. You picked me to be your wife because you believed I was uncultured and came from a poor background.’

  His jaw tightened. ‘I have already apologised for the way I treated you.’

  ‘You don’t have to apologise when you’re going to pay me five million pounds.’

  If she kept reminding herself of the deal they had made she might find it easier to ignore the burning intensity in his gaze that made her wish their marriage was real in every sense.

  Rafael exhaled heavily. ‘The car accident that took your parents’ lives also ended your dancing career, didn’t it?’

  ‘I had just danced the role of Giselle in London—one of the youngest ballerinas to have been chosen for the part.’ Juliet hugged her arms around her. ‘Mum and Dad died because of me,’ she whispered. ‘They were driving me to Birmingham, because the ballet was due to open next at the Symphony Hall there. I could have gone on the coach with the other dancers but my parents always came to my first night performances.’

  ‘The accident was not your fault—you have to believe that,’ Rafael said roughly. He pulled her into his arms and held her close to his chest. ‘Thick fog and a speeding lorry—you had no control over those things.’ He stroked his hand over her hair. ‘It sounds as though your parents loved you very much.’

  There was an odd note in his voice that Juliet could not define.

  ‘They sacrificed so much so that I could follow my dream of being a ballerina,’ she said. ‘I won a scholarship to a boarding ballet school when I was eleven. The fees were paid but there were many other expenses, and my parents worked extra hours to buy my ballet shoes and cover all the costs.’

  She sighed.

  ‘I was the only scholarship student in my year and most of the other pupils were from wealthy families. I was made to feel that I didn’t belong there by some of my peers because of my background. In the same way your grandfather made me feel that I was an outsider when you introduced me as your wife.’

  Rafael’s chest rose and fell. ‘Why did you stay at the school if the other pupils upset you?’

  ‘I was determined to be a ballerina and I didn’t care about anything else. The other kids stopped teasing me when I consistently came top of the class in my dance exams. And I did make some friends. My best friend Chloe is the daughter of the famous art collector Derek Mullholland. I used to stay with her in the school holidays and her father would show us around his private art gallery and talk about the paintings.’

  Beneath her ear Juliet heard the steady thud of Rafael’s heart.

  ‘Chloe is a soloist ballerina. We keep in touch, but I am envious of her career,’ she admitted.

  He said nothing, but he tightened his arms around her as if he understood, as if he cared—which of course he doesn’t,
whispered her common sense.

  ‘I plan to use some of your money to set up a dance school for children and young adults. My leg isn’t strong enough for me to dance on the stage, but I can teach ballet and give other little girls the dream that I fulfilled for a short time.’

  Juliet’s heart missed a beat when she felt Rafael brush his lips over her hairline. Time seemed to be suspended and she did not know how long they stood there, with his arms wrapped around her and her cheek resting on his shirt front. But gradually she became aware of the hardness of his thighs pressing against her, and the heat of his body through his shirt.

  The spicy scent of his cologne filled her senses, and when she looked up at him she discovered that he was staring at her with an intent expression that made her stomach swoop. She felt dizzy, as though she had drunk too much champagne, although she’d only had one glass.

  He slid his hand beneath her chin and his eyes narrowed, gleaming with a sensual promise that set her pulse racing. Once again she had the feeling that none of this was real. It was a beautiful dream and she never wanted to wake up. Her eyelashes drifted closed and she felt Rafael’s warm breath graze her lips.

  ‘Open your eyes,’ he commanded in a husky growl that sent a delicious shiver down her spine.

  She obeyed, and as her gaze meshed with his she instinctively arched towards him as he angled his mouth over hers and kissed her. At first he kept it light, teasing her lips apart while he moved his hand from her jaw to cradle her cheek in his palm. He tasted divine and she pressed herself closer to him, wanting more, wanting...

  ‘Oh!’ Her soft gasp was muffled against his lips as he deepened the kiss, crushing her mouth beneath his so that her head was tilted back and she was powerless to resist his passionate onslaught.

  Heat swept through her veins and a wildness bubbled up inside her as Rafael coaxed her lips apart in a kiss that transported her to a place where there was only sensation. He made a rough sound in his throat and moved his hand from her waist to the base of her spine, forcing her pelvis into contact with his so that she felt the powerful proof of his arousal.

  Astounded that she could have such an effect on him, Juliet melted against him, lifting her arms to wind them around his neck while he pushed his tongue into her mouth and the kiss became ever more erotic.

  Sparks shot through her. She hadn’t known that a kiss could be like this: a conflagration that swept away her inhibitions and her uncertainty and compelled her to burn in Rafael’s fire.

  It took a few seconds for her to realise that the brilliant white lights she could see were not shooting stars but actual lights, which had been switched on to illuminate the balcony. Even more puzzling was the sound of applause.

  Rafael lifted his mouth from hers and she turned her head to discover that they were in full view of the party guests in the ballroom—including his grandfather.

  Understanding brought with it a wave of humiliation at the realisation that Rafael had kissed her so publicly in a bid to prove to Hector that their marriage was real. He must have known that the balcony lights were about to be turned on—or maybe he had instructed the staff to switch them on. Either way, that kiss had been under the spotlight...but only one of them had been acting.

  Juliet wished a hole would appear beneath her feet and swallow her. But Rafael tightened his hold on her waist, as if he guessed that she wanted to tear herself out of his arms and slap his face. He strode across the balcony, giving her no choice but to walk with him back into the ballroom.

  ‘I want to go and check on Poppy,’ she muttered, making the excuse so that she could leave the party.

  She was such an idiot. Rafael was a playboy, highly experienced in the art of seduction. And she had betrayed her fascination with him when she had responded to his heart-stopping kisses with an eagerness that made her cheeks burn when she remembered how she had come apart in his arms.

  ‘You can’t leave now. My grandfather is about to give his speech,’ he told her. ‘The nanny will see to Poppy if she wakes up.’

  Hector stepped onto a dais at one end of the room and looked around at the guests. ‘As you all know, today I celebrate my eightieth birthday. The time has come for me to think about the future of the Casillas Group and consider who will be the best person to succeed me as Chairman and CEO. I believe that person is my eldest grandson Rafael.’

  Juliet glanced around the room and was shocked by the look of fury on Delfina Casillas’s haughty face. She wondered why Rafael’s mother favoured her youngest son, and why there was no sign of affection between her and Rafael.

  ‘However,’ Hector continued, ‘I have decided to remain as head of the company for the coming year, while I work closely with Rafael to ensure a smooth transition to his leadership. Rafael knows there are certain areas where he will need to prove his suitability before I step down. In my opinion, whoever ultimately succeeds me should be prepared to show commitment in all areas of his life—which is something that, frankly, Rafael has not done in the past. But his recent marriage suggests a change of heart.’

  Hector paused, and from across the room Juliet felt the old man’s sharp black eyes flick from Rafael to her. She felt Rafael tighten his grip on her waist, pinning her to him.

  ‘Perhaps,’ Hector said thoughtfully, ‘Rafael will be able to convince me to retire before the year is up.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘JULIET—WAIT.’

  The sound of Rafael’s voice behind her spurred Juliet on to increase her pace as she tore across the lawn, heading away from the twinkling lights of the mansion. But she wasn’t used to walking, let alone running in high heels, with a long skirt swirling around her ankles, and he caught up with her in front of the chalet-style summerhouse.

  His hand curled around her shoulder. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Anywhere as long as I’m far away from you.’

  He swore and caught hold of her other shoulder, spinning her round to face him. ‘What’s the matter?’

  The impatience in Rafael’s voice fanned Juliet’s temper. ‘You are an expert at this game, but I’m just a novice and I don’t know the rules,’ she muttered.

  Moonlight slid over his face, highlighting his razor-edged cheekbones and hard jaw. The mouth that had lived up to its promise of heaven was set in a grim line and his brows were two black slashes on either side of his nose.

  ‘What game? Why did you disappear from the ballroom while the guests were making a toast to my grandfather? People will think we have had a row.’

  ‘I doubt it, after you made sure that everyone, including Hector, witnessed that X-rated snog on the balcony.’ Juliet bit her lip. She felt such a fool. ‘I opened up to you in a way that I have never done with anyone else,’ she told him rawly. ‘I thought you’d kissed me because—Oh, not because you cared, but I thought you liked me a little. I should have realised it was an ideal opportunity for you to act the role of a loving husband in front of your grandfather when you found me on the balcony. The stage was set and all you needed were lights and action.’

  To her horror, her voice wobbled, and she cringed because she could not disguise her hurt feelings. Just because she was wearing a beautiful dress it did not change who she was. She was still a single mother from a council estate, and no amount of clever tailoring could give the illusion that she had the kind of curvaceous figure that Rafael preferred—if the newspaper pictures of his last busty blonde mistress were anything to go by.

  She shrugged her shoulders, trying to throw off his hands, but he held her tighter. A muscle flickered in his cheek when she dashed a hand across her wet eyes.

  ‘That was not why I kissed you,’ he said harshly. ‘It had nothing to do with my grandfather. I didn’t know that those damn lights would come on.’

  ‘You can’t deny it was convenient that we were lit up like a Christmas tree. And Hector hinted in his speech that he mi
ght make you CEO in less than a year, so I can’t complain. The sooner he hands you the company the sooner we can end our farce of a marriage.’

  ‘I did not know that we would be seen by everyone in the ballroom.’

  Rafael’s voice was as dangerous as the rigid set of his jaw. He trapped her gaze, and her breath hitched in her throat when she saw heat and hunger flash in his eyes.

  ‘I kissed you because I couldn’t resist you,’ he said tensely. ‘Because I’d wanted to kiss you since I watched you float down the stairs looking like a princess in that golden dress with your hair like amber silk. Looking like every red-blooded male’s fantasy woman.’

  She shook her head, not allowing herself to believe him. ‘What man would fantasise about me?’ she whispered.

  ‘This man, chiquita,’ he growled.

  He jerked her towards him, taking her by surprise, so that she slammed hard into his chest and the air was forced out of her lungs. Before she could draw a breath he’d lowered his head and claimed her mouth in a kiss of blatant possession and savage passion.

  Her brain told her to resist him. Insisted she would be a fool to believe him. But there had been something so stark in his voice. And she wanted this, Juliet admitted to herself. She wanted his mouth on hers, kissing her with an urgency that was too fierce to be fake.

  The world spun on its axis as he swept her into his arms and carried her along the path to the summerhouse, shouldered open the door and kicked it shut behind him while his lips remained fused to hers.

  Moonlight shone through the windows and filled the summerhouse with a pearly gleam. Rafael strode over to the sofa that took up one corner of the room and sat down, settling her on his lap. He traced his lips over her cheek, nuzzled the tender place behind her ear and then nipped her earlobe with his sharp teeth, sending starbursts of pleasure through her entire body.