A Diamond for Del Rio's Housekeeper

by Susan Stephens

  ‘I’m sure you will,’ he said.

  ‘You won’t deny me my dreams, because I won’t let you.’

  ‘The hearts and flowers you imagine are not a given,’ he said. ‘I think you have a very naïve view of things.’

  ‘Maybe,’ Rosie agreed, ‘but better that than I remain bitter about a past I cannot change. If we work together we could achieve a lot on the island. That’s what I think Doña Anna wanted when she drew up her will. My heart, your business acumen,’ she said, smiling encouragement. ‘And, who knows? I’m sure we’ll annoy the heck out of each other, but we might even start enjoying it.’

  His cynical expression didn’t promise that, but everything was on the line now: her heart, her fears, her future. ‘This really matters to me, Xavier.’

  ‘I’m sure it does,’ he said, staring at her without warmth. ‘Dipping a hand into my bank account would matter to most people.’

  Shaking her head, she laughed, but it was a sad sound, totally lacking in humour. ‘You haven’t listened to a word I’ve said. This isn’t about money.’ You infuriating, damaged man, she thought. Xavier didn’t think he needed help from anyone. He didn’t need an island. He was the island, isolated and alone.

  ‘One minute you’re working in the orphanage,’ he said, his eyes dark with suspicion, ‘and the next you’re inheriting half an island. And now you seem to think you can marry the other half.’ With a shake of his head, he gave her a cutting look. ‘Your idea of marriage might catch on. It seems like a very good bargain to me—for you, and for every other penniless woman in the world.’

  ‘Then refuse me,’ she challenged. ‘I’m sure you’ll find someone to oblige you with an heir, with all that money at your disposal.’

  Xavier’s expression darkened. ‘What did you imagine when you were offered the position of housekeeper to an elderly woman? Did you think it would give you the chance to charm my aunt into leaving you something in her will?’

  ‘I think all you see is bad in people,’ she countered, ‘and I think that’s sad. You’re the loser,’ she added heatedly. ‘No wonder you’re still alone. I’m doing this for the good of the island, and that’s my only reason. Do you think that anyone would want to marry a man who can’t feel anything, without a very good reason for it? And as for playing your aunt? I was stunned by Doña Anna’s generosity. I still am. And I’m determined to do everything she expected of me. I will never forget how much I owe her—and I’m not talking about the bequest now, but the home she gave me, and the love we shared. I don’t think my plan’s naïve. It’s not as if we’re talking about a love match. Ours will be more of a business deal.’ Her heart sagged as she said this, but it was done now, and she had to get through to him somehow.

  ‘I think I know a little more about business deals than you.’

  She shrugged. ‘Then you must see the good sense in this. Work with me to put the island right.’

  ‘Turn it into a vegetable plot?’ he suggested.

  She ignored that comment. ‘Once everything is on an even keel, we can arrange a discreet divorce.’

  ‘No stone left unturned,’ Xavier observed. ‘I’m impressed.’

  And patronising, she thought. ‘It’s said your success rests on your ability to put plans into action right away—’

  ‘Sensible plans,’ he interrupted, ‘plans that have been thoroughly researched, and will work. I can see what you have to gain from this—’

  ‘And you,’ she countered firmly.

  ‘You’re quite a hard little piece, aren’t you?’ he remarked with an accusing stare.

  Not at all. Not even slightly, and she wilted inwardly at Xavier’s description, though not a jot of that showed on her face. Living in an institution was a strange and enclosed experience. She couldn’t have survived it without a little steel in her backbone—

  Without a lot of steel in her backbone, Rosie amended.

  ‘So, what’s your answer?’ she pressed.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  DOÑA ANNA HAD TIED him up in knots, ensuring he came back to the island, met Rosie, and then fulfilled his aunt’s request to provide an heir. How neat. Doña Anna was the only woman in the world who had ever been able to put a curb on him. She’d done it once before when he was a youth, and she was doing it again from the grave. That Rosie Clifton had chosen to make this proposal, shocking him with her accusations, only endorsed his aunt’s opinion of the girl. Whatever his answer, he had to admit his aunt had made a good choice in her lieutenant. He supposed he owed Rosie some grudging respect for the fact that she never gave up. Nothing would deter her from following his aunt’s wishes to the letter.

  ‘Marriage to you will give me the power to help the island,’ she told him now, her face shining with good intentions.

  ‘I’m expected to fund your ideas?’

  ‘Only if you agree.’ Her eyes were full of hope.

  ‘This marriage to me will certainly allow you to continue your meteoric rise in the world.’

  ‘Please don’t talk like that when there’s a child involved,’ she begged him.

  ‘You should remember that there’s a child involved,’ he fired back. He’d seen the effect of a marriage and a child on his parents. ‘You do realise this would have to be a marriage in the fullest sense.’ With consequences he dreaded more than Rosie, he suspected. Everything was fantasy and theory to Rosie, but now she must face the truth.

  ‘Of course,’ she assured him, but her face was ashen. He guessed she was thinking about their wedding night and all the nights after that.

  ‘And if you expect me to consult with you concerning my plans for the island—’

  ‘I do expect consultation between us,’ she stated firmly.

  Even as she spoke the words Rosie knew they were wasted on Xavier. He’d probably never consulted with anyone in his life. So maybe that was one thing she was better at than him, she reasoned. Her life had been one long series of negotiations, with compromise the only way to survive the system she’d grown up in. ‘You might find it stimulating to hear new ideas,’ she suggested.

  ‘I have a team for that,’ he said. ‘But if we do run out of ideas, I’ll be sure to call on you.’

  ‘So your answer’s no?’ It was a struggle to read him as he stared into the middle distance.

  ‘Not necessarily.’

  Rosie had given him everything he needed on a plate. He was sorry she’d be hurt—and she would get hurt—but it couldn’t be helped. His aunt should have known that this would have a bad ending. He’d never made any secret of the fact that the chains of domesticity were not for him. ‘Yours is a very unusual proposition.’

  ‘It’s bold,’ she argued.

  ‘It’s a marriage of convenience.’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘That’s what’s so good about it—both sides benefit.’

  Was she being so businesslike because she thought it was the only way to communicate with him, or did she have that hard streak beneath her vulnerable shell? Looking at her face, he decided she was certainly gritty and determined. She was a survivor, like him, he concluded. ‘Isn’t a marriage of convenience a little outdated?’

  ‘In this instance, it will be perfectly in tune with our needs.’

  ‘Then I agree,’ he said.

  ‘You do?’ She looked at him with surprise.

  ‘Pay attention, Ms Clifton. I just agreed to marry you. As you so rightly say, my aunt has faced us both with a problem, and the best way to solve that problem is with a straightforward business deal. I agree that we should be married—and as soon as possible.’

  Triumph came in many forms, Rosie now discovered. She felt light-headed in victory, and frightened at what she’d done. Her erotic fantasies involving Xavier belonged in her fantasy world, where he was everything she wanted him to be, and he made no unreasonable demands on her. In reality, he was too much of what she wanted, and his demands would probably be many and vigorous, but, with everything at stake, what choice did she have?<
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  ‘Okay,’ she said, extending her hand for him to shake on the deal. ‘Let’s do it.’

  ‘You do know that in those few words your world has changed for ever?’ he asked as he closed his hand around hers.

  ‘I know it,’ she whispered, sensation streaming through her at his touch. ‘And I’d hoped my world would change,’ she added levelly. ‘It would have to, to embrace yours.’

  ‘Good.’ He seemed pleased. ‘I’ll have my people make a formal announcement. We’ll have to celebrate. I’ll hold a ball.’

  ‘A ball?’ Rosie was aghast. The drinks party had been bad enough. This was all moving too fast.

  ‘It’s usual to make a formal announcement,’ Xavier assured her. ‘We must give everyone chance to congratulate the happy couple.’

  What happy couple? Rosie thought, shivering inwardly.

  ‘Is something wrong?’ Xavier asked her.

  He knew very well what was wrong. She needed reassurance that she was doing the right thing, and there was no one, absolutely no one, who could give her that. ‘I’m surprised you care what the world thinks about our forthcoming marriage.’

  ‘I don’t, but I thought you might,’ he said.

  She appreciated his concern. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t mention it.’ His stare was dark and triumphant, and it stripped away her brief moment of confidence, but she had to do this. It was the only way she could stop the island being torn apart. And, yes, the eyes of the world would be on them the instant this went public; and yes, cruel comments would be made, but this wasn’t about her feelings, but about the island and her promise to Doña Anna to keep it safe. ‘How will you explain away the suddenness of our marriage? Coming so soon after the reading of the will, won’t it seem odd?’

  ‘I don’t have to explain anything,’ Xavier assured her.

  Of course he didn’t. Don Xavier Del Rio didn’t play by the rules; he never had. No explanations were necessary.

  ‘I expect the press to report it as a coup de foudre, love at first sight, our first meeting having been engineered by my aunt, your employer, Doña Anna. That will get us through for the duration of our marriage.’

  ‘You make our marriage sound more like a prison sentence.’ She felt a pang that it couldn’t be more, and had to remind herself that a road bridge between fantasy and fact had never existed.

  ‘It will be what you make of it,’ Xavier stated. ‘It’s your idea.’

  From the frying pan into the fire, she thought. ‘Where will the ball be held?’

  ‘Here, of course.’

  Of course. She could forget having a happy, relaxed party amongst friends on the island. The announcement of their impending marriage would be made amongst people she didn’t know at a stiff, formal ball.

  ‘Do you have a problem with that?’ Xavier probed when she bit down on her lip.

  ‘No. Of course not.’

  ‘In two weeks’ time.’

  ‘So soon?’ Her heart flipped over. ‘Will that be enough time to arrange everything?’

  Xavier gave her an amused look. Anything was possible for Don Xavier Del Rio. She’d better get used to it, though a second encounter with high society was not the best start to the plan that she had so boldly put in motion. She could tell he was pleased, because he’d take over now. Their marriage of convenience would be over and done with at breakneck speed.

  * * *

  The night of the ball had arrived. He stared at his stern, formally dressed reflection in the mirror, wondering if Rosie was ready for this. Their last meeting had been here, and when she’d left her face had brightened as if she’d expected him to take her in his arms and seal their bargain with a tender kiss. For her sake, he had resisted any show of affection. It would be wrong to pretend that this wedding was anything more than a convenience for both of them. He admired Rosie for the strength and grace with which she came through the problems she faced, but his cold nature, forged in the bitter past, always triumphed in the end.

  He felt nothing for Rosie. So why was he still thinking about her?

  His only interest was in seeing how the evening played out, he told himself firmly. Rosie had guts. She would get through it. She had elected to play hardball, and now she had to prove that she could.

  Members of so-called high society were already arriving at his gates. The cathedral would be crammed for their wedding. His scandalous match with his late aunt’s housekeeper must have kept dinner tables alive with gossip since the invitations went out. Even the ambassador had changed his schedule in order to attend both the wedding and the ball, and the cream of Spanish society would join his guests tonight, together with several members of the royal family. This would not be a low-key affair. Margaret was in charge of arrangements, so he had every confidence that it would all go smoothly. Rosie would not be allowed to put a foot wrong. It remained to be seen what his guests thought of her, but it was what he thought when he saw her after several days apart that intrigued him. His mind was a blank canvas where that was concerned. Would he feel anything more than some fleeting lust when Señorita Clifton arrived at the ball?

  * * *

  She couldn’t have done this without Margaret’s help, Rosie reflected, wishing her heart would calm down. It had been thundering for most of the day as she contemplated the evening ahead. Seeing Xavier again was even more daunting than facing his guests at the ball. She’d know at once what he was thinking. She would be able to read his thoughts in his eyes. He might be resigned, or impatient, or... No. Hoping he’d be pleased to see her was too much to ask.

  Ball gowns weren’t exactly her area of expertise, Rosie fretted as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. ‘Do I look all right?’

  ‘You look beautiful,’ Margaret assured her as she bustled about, tweaking Rosie’s ankle-length gown.

  When Margaret had knocked on the door of her suite at the hotel, Rosie had welcomed the friendly older woman with open arms. Finding a ball gown and a wedding dress in the time available was way beyond her scope. She had been busily scouring the pages of a magazine, wondering which of the grand boutiques would be likely to let her through the door in her custard dress, when Margaret arrived. She was more a jeans and T-shirt girl, and after the fiasco of the red dress she couldn’t risk another disaster. Margaret’s down-to-earth encouragement turned out to be just what she’d needed.

  Margaret’s approval meant a lot to Rosie. She believed she could trust her to give her an honest opinion. That was what she was waiting for now as Margaret walked a full circle around her.

  ‘I love the gown,’ Margaret said as she stared critically at Rosie from every angle. ‘It’s really stylish, and I’ve never seen you looking more beautiful.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have had a clue what to choose for the ball without you,’ Rosie admitted, ‘and I certainly wouldn’t have known where to shop for it.’

  Margaret laughed at this. ‘But now you know that when Xavier is involved the designers come to you.’

  ‘And work through the night to get the dresses ready in time,’ Rosie added, still marvelling at what was possible for the rich and famous. The designers must have thought it was a love match to rush about as they had. If they’d known the truth, perhaps they wouldn’t have been quite so enthusiastic about it, though the scandal alone would make them famous.

  ‘Are you happy, Rosie?’ Margaret asked with genuine concern in her voice.

  Was she happy? Rosie stared at her face in the mirror, wishing with all her heart that she could confide her fears about the future to Margaret. ‘Of course I’m happy,’ she said brightly in an attempt to reassure the older woman.

  ‘Then, let’s go,’ Margaret prompted.

  It was too late to change her mind now. Sucking in a deep, steadying breath, she held her head up high as they left the suite together.

  * * *

  He had expected Margaret and Rosie to arrive long before now. What was keeping them? Surely it was just a matter of picking a dr
ess that fitted and putting it on?

  He shifted position impatiently, his stare fixed on the door. All his guests had arrived, and were waiting, as he was, for the most important guest of the night. The evening couldn’t have been more perfect. All the doors into the garden had been opened and the sky was littered with stars. The moon was suspended like a silver crescent, resting back on a velvet bed. The orchestra was playing, candles were lit, and chandeliers glittered. Champagne and conversation flowed freely. The ball was already deemed a success. ‘And with the additional treat of your special announcement,’ one elderly lady had just cooed in his ear. ‘None of us can wait for that.’

  He could imagine. He disliked being on everyone’s tongue and the sooner this was over, the better, as far as he was concerned. The scandal sheets were full of it with incendiary comments about the unsuitability of his marriage. He expected rumbles to go on for quite a while, until some new cause célèbre burst upon the public consciousness and everyone forgot about him. He could only hope Margaret had steered Rosie in the right direction. After the unfortunate red dress, a mistake now would attract derision, which would in turn keep the gossip running. Most of his guests were good people, but they did love to talk, and there were piranhas amongst them who loved nothing more than to see a person fall. He could take their scorn, but beneath her bravado Rosie was vulnerable to attack, and, whatever else this match promised, he would not stand by and see her bullied.

  He tensed as the room fell silent. Even the musicians had put down their instruments as everyone turned to stare at the door.

  Rosie had entered the ballroom.

  Standing at the top of the steps, she was framed in light. Her presence coursed through him like a lightning bolt. She was dressed in an exquisite gown of soft, clear blue. The colour was a perfect foil for her glorious red-gold hair. She looked quite astonishingly beautiful. The impact was so staggering it was as if he were seeing her for the very first time. The gown was slim-fitting, and subtly styled with a modest neckline. Beautifully beaded in the same colour as the dress, the fabric sparkled discreetly as she moved. It drew his attention from the loveliness of her face to the perfection of her womanly form. She was the only woman in the room, as far as he was concerned, and his senses soared as she glanced around. Looking for him, he hoped.