‘It’s not going to happen.’
‘Well, in case you change your mind—’ he handed her an envelope ‘—you might need this.’
She opened it, stared at the photo that had been taken last night. His arm was on the chair behind her, she was laughing, and there was Raúl—smiling, absolutely beautiful, his eyes on her, staring at her as if he was entranced.
He must have known the photographer was on his way, Estelle realised. He had been considering this even last night.
Raúl had rearranged the seating—she was certain of it now.
She realised then the lengths he would go to to get his way.
‘Did you arrange for Gordon to be called away?’
‘Of course.’
‘You don’t even try to deny it?’
He heard her anger.
‘You’d prefer that I lie?’ Raúl checked.
She looked to the mantelpiece, to the photo of her brother and Amanda holding a tiny, frail Cecelia. She was so tired of struggling. But she could not believe that she was considering his offer. She had considered Gordon’s, though, Estelle told herself. Tomorrow she had been going to tell her brother she was deferring her studies and moving in with them.
She had already made the decision to up-end her life.
This would certainly up-end it—but in a rather more spectacular way.
She went into the kitchen with the excuse of making coffee, but really it was to gather her thoughts.
Bought by Raúl.
Estelle closed her eyes. It was against everything she believed in, yet it wasn’t just the money that tempted her. It was something more base than that.
A man as beautiful as Raúl, for her first lover. The thought of sharing his bed, his life—even for a little while—was as tempting as the cheque he had written. Estelle blew out a breath, her skin on fire, aroused just at the thought of lying beside him. Yet she knew that if Raúl knew she was a virgin the deal would be off.
‘Not for me.’
He was standing at the kitchen door, watching as she spooned instant coffee into two mugs.
‘I’ll leave you to think about it. If you do not arrive at the appointment then I will accept your decision and stop the cheque. As I said, tomorrow my phone number will be changing. It will be too late to change your mind.’
It really was, Estelle knew, a once-in-a-lifetime offer.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I WILL FLY your family out for the wedding…’
They were sitting in Raúl’s lawyer’s office, going over details that made Estelle burn, but it was all being dealt with in a cool, precise manner.
‘I will speak with your parents and brother.’
‘My parents are both deceased.’ Estelle said it in a matter-of-fact way. She was not after sympathy from Raúl and this was not a tender conversation. ‘And my brother and his wife won’t be able to attend—Cecelia is too sick to travel.’
‘You should have someone there for you.’
‘Won’t your family believe us otherwise?’ There was a slight sneer to her voice, which she fought to check. She had chosen to be here, after all. It was just the mention of her parents, of Cecelia, that had her throat tightening—the realisation that everything in this marriage bar love would be real and she would be going through it all alone.
‘It has nothing to do with that,’ Raúl said. ‘It is your wedding day. You might find it overwhelming to be alone.’
‘Oh, please,’ Estelle responded, determined not to let him see her fear. ‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Very well.’ Raúl nodded. ‘It will be a small wedding, but traditional. The press will go wild—they have been waiting a long time for me to marry—but we will not let them know we are married till after.’
They had been talking for hours; every detail from wardrobe allowance to hair and make-up had been discussed.
Estelle had insisted she could choose her own clothes.
‘I have a reputation to think of,’ had been Raúl’s tart response.
Estelle was entitled to one week every month to come back to the UK and visit her family for the duration of the contract.
‘I am sure we will both need the space,’ had been Raúl’s explanation. ‘I am not used to having someone permanently around.’
There was now an extremely uncomfortable conversation—for Estelle, in any case—about the regularity of sex, and also about birth control and health checks. Raúl didn’t appear in the least bit fazed.
‘In the event of a pregnancy—’ the lawyer started.
Raúl was quick to interrupt. Only now did he seem concerned by the subject matter being discussed. ‘There is to be no pregnancy.’ There was a low menace to his voice. ‘I don’t think my bride-to-be would be foolish enough to try and trap me in that way.’
‘It still needs to be addressed.’ The lawyer was very calm.
‘I have no intention of getting pregnant.’ Estelle gave a small nervous laugh, truly horrified at the prospect. She had seen the stress Cecelia had placed on Andrew and Amanda, and they were head over heels in love.
‘You might change your mind,’ Raúl said, for he trusted no one. ‘You might decide that you like the lifestyle and don’t want to give it up.’ He looked to his lawyer. ‘We need to make contingency plans.’
‘Absolutely,’ the lawyer said.
It could not be made clearer that this was all business.
Estelle sat as with clinical detachment he ensured that he would provide for any child they might have on the condition that the child resided in Spain.
If she moved back to England, Estelle would have to fight against his might just to make the rent.
‘I think that covers it,’ the lawyer said.
‘Not quite.’ Estelle cleared her throat. ‘I’d like us to agree that we won’t sleep with each other till after the wedding.’
‘There’s no need for quaint.’
‘I’ve agreed to all your terms.’ She looked coolly at him. It was the only way for this to work. If he knew she was a virgin this meeting would close now. ‘You can surely agree to one of mine? I’d like some time off before I start working.’ She watched his jaw tighten slightly as she made it clear that this was work.
‘Very well.’ Raúl did not like to be told that sleeping with him would be a chore. ‘You may well change your mind.’
‘I shan’t.’
‘You will be flown in a couple of days before the wedding. I will be on my yacht, partying as grooms do before their marriage. You shall have the apartment to yourself.’ He had no intention of holding hands and playing coy for a week. He waited for her nod and then turned to his lawyer. ‘Draft it.’
They waited in a sumptuous lounge as the lawyer got to work, but Estelle couldn’t relax.
‘You are tense.’
‘It’s not every day you get offered a million dollars.’ She could at least be honest about that. ‘Nor move to Marbella…’
‘You will love it,’ Raúl said. ‘The night-life is fantastic…’
He just didn’t know her at all, Estelle realised yet again.
‘How did your parents die?’ Raúl asked, watching as her shoulders stiffened. ‘My family are bound to ask.’
‘In a car accident,’ Estelle said, turning to him. ‘The same as your mother.’
He opened his mouth to speak and then changed his mind.
‘I just hope everyone believes us,’ Estelle said.
‘Why wouldn’t they? Even when we divorce we’ll maintain the lie. You understand the confidentiality clause?’ Raúl checked. ‘No one is ever to know that this is a marriage of convenience only.’
‘No one will ever hear it from me,’ she assured him. The prospect of being found out was abhorrent to
Estelle. ‘Just a whirlwind romance and a marriage that didn’t work out.’
‘Good,’ Raúl said. ‘And, Estelle—even if we do get on…even if you do like—’
‘Don’t worry, Raúl,’ she interrupted. ‘I’m not going to be falling in love with you.’ She gave him a tight smile. ‘I’ll be out of your life, as per the contract.’
CHAPTER NINE
RAÚL HAD BEEN RIGHT.
Estelle stood on the balcony of his luxurious apartment, looking out at the marina, on the morning of her wedding day, and was, as Raúl had predicted, utterly and completely overwhelmed.
She had arrived in Marbella two days ago and had barely stopped for air since. Stepping into this vast apartment, she had fully glimpsed his wealth. Every room bar the movie screening room was angled to take in the stunning view of the Mediterranean, and every whim was catered for from Jacuzzi to sauna. There was a whole new wardrobe waiting for her too. The only thing lacking was that the kitchen cupboards and fridge were empty.
‘Call Sol’s if you don’t want to go out,’ Raúl had said. ‘They will bring whatever you want straight over.’
The only vaguely familiar thing had been the photo of them both, taken at Donald’s wedding, beautifully framed and on a wall. But even that had been dealt with by Raúl. It had been manipulated so that her make-up was softer, her cleavage less revealing.
It had been a sharp reminder that he thought her a tart.
Raúl knew the woman he wanted to marry, and it wasn’t the woman he had met, so there had been trips to a beauty salon for hair treatments and make-up lessons.
‘I don’t need make-up lessons,’ Estelle had said.
‘Oh, baby, you do,’ had been his response. ‘Subtle is best.’
Constantly she had to remind herself to be the woman he thought he had met. A woman who acted as if delighted by her new designer wardrobe, who didn’t mind at all when he told her to wear factor fifty-plus because he liked her pale skin.
But it wasn’t that which concerned Estelle this morning as she looked out at the glittering sea and the luxurious yachts, wondering which one was Raúl’s.
Tonight she would be on his yacht.
This night they would be sharing a bed.
Estelle wasn’t sure if she was more terrified of losing her virginity, or of him finding out that she had never slept with anyone before.
Maybe he wouldn’t notice, she thought helplessly. But she knew she didn’t have a hope of delivering to his bed the sexually experienced woman that Raúl was expecting. Last night, before heading off with his sponsors for his final night as a single man, Raúl had kissed her slowly and deeply. The message his tongue had delivered had been an explicit one.
‘Why do you make me wait?’
Tonight he would find out why.
‘You have a phone call.’ Rosa, his housekeeper, brought the phone up to the balcony. It was Amanda on the line.
‘How are you doing?’ Amanda asked.
‘I’m petrified.’ It was nice to be honest.
‘All brides are,’ Amanda said. ‘But Raúl will take good care of you.’
He had utterly and completely charmed Amanda, but had not quite won over Andrew.
‘I am not letting her go again.’ He had looked Andrew straight in the eye as he said it. ‘If I move Estelle to Spain I want to make a proper commitment. That is why she will come to be my wife.’
So easily he had lied.
Estelle knew she must remember that fact.
‘How did the dress turn out?’ Amanda asked.
‘It’s beautiful,’ Estelle said. ‘Even better than I imagined it would be.’
It was the only thing Estelle had been allowed to organise. It had all be done online and by phone, and the final adjustments made when she had arrived.
‘How is Cecelia?’ Estelle asked, desperate for news of her niece.
‘She’s still asleep.’
It was nine a.m. in Spain, which meant it was eight a.m. in the UK. Cecelia had always been an early riser. More and more she slept these days, though Amanda always did her best to be upbeat.
‘I’m going to dress her up for the wedding and take a photo and send it. Even if we can’t be there today, know that we’re thinking of you.’
‘I know.’
‘And I’m not your sister, but I do think of you as one.’
‘Thank you,’ Estelle said, her eyes welling up. ‘I think of you as a sister too.’
They weren’t idle words; many hours had been spent in hospital waiting rooms this past year.
‘Is that the door?’ Amanda asked.
‘Yes. Don’t worry, someone else will get it.’
‘Do you have a butler?’
‘No!’ Estelle laughed, swallowing down her tears. ‘Just Raúl’s housekeeper. Though it’s going to start to get busy soon, with the hairdresser…’ She turned around as she heard her name being called, and Estelle’s jaw dropped as she saw her brother coming through the door.
‘Andrew!’
‘Is that where he’s got to?’ Amanda laughed, and then she was serious. ‘I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be with you today—I’d have given anything. But with Cecelia…’
‘Thank you,’ Estelle said, and promptly burst into tears, all her pent-up nerves released.
‘I think she’s pleased to see me,’ Andrew said, taking the phone and chatting to Amanda briefly before hanging up.
‘I can’t believe you’re here,’ Estelle admitted.
‘Raúl said he thought you might need someone today, and of course I wanted to give you away. If anything happens with Cecelia he’s assured me I’ll be able to get straight back.’
She couldn’t believe that Raúl would do this for her. Until now she hadn’t fully realised how terrifying today was, how real it felt.
Raúl had.
‘When did you get in?’
‘Last night,’ Andrew said. ‘We went to Sol’s.’
‘You were out with Raúl?’
‘He certainly knows how to party.’ Andrew smiled. ‘I’d forgotten how.’
Even if she was doing all this for her brother and his wife, of the many benefits of marrying Raúl, this was one Estelle had not even considered—that her brother, who was still having trouble accepting the diagnosis that he would never walk again, who had, apart from job interviews and hospital appointments, become almost reclusive, would fly not just to Spain but so far out of his comfort zone.
It was a huge and important step, and it was thanks to Raúl that he was here.
‘I’ve got something for you.’
Estelle bit her lip, hoping they hadn’t spent money they didn’t have on a gift for a wedding that wasn’t real.
‘Remember these?’ Andrew said as she opened the box. ‘These’ were small diamond studs that had belonged to her mother. ‘Dad bought them for her for their wedding day.’
She had never felt more of a fraud.
‘Enough tears,’ Andrew said. ‘Let’s get this wedding underway.’
* * *
Raúl was rarely nervous, but as he stood at the altar and waited for Estelle, to his own surprise, he was.
His father had almost bought their story, and Raul’s future with the company was secure, but instead of a gloating satisfaction that his plans were falling into place today he thought only of the reasons he had had to go to these lengths.
His head turned briefly and he caught a glimpse of Angela in the middle of the church. She was seated with his father, as ever-present PA. His mother’s family were still unaware of the real role she played in his father’s life—and the role she had played in his mother’s death.
He stared ahead, anger churning in his gut that Angela had the gall to be here. He would
n’t put it past her to bring her bastard son.
Then he heard the murmur of the congregation and Raúl turned around. The churning faded. Just one thought was now in his mind.
She looked beautiful.
He had wondered how Estelle might look—had worried that, left to her own devices, a powder-puff ball would be wobbling towards him on glittery platform shoes, smiling from ruby-red lips.
He had not—could not have—imagined this.
Her dress was cream and made of intricate Spanish lace. It was fitted, and showing her curves, but in the most elegant of ways. The neckline was a simple halter neck. She carried orange blossom, as was the tradition for Spanish brides, and her lipstick was a pale coral.
‘Te ves bella.’ He told her that she looked beautiful as she joined him, and he meant every word. Not one thing would he change, from her black hair, piled high up on her head, to the simple diamond earrings and elegant cream shoes. She was visibly shaking, and he made a small joke to relax her. ‘Your sewing is terrible.’
She glanced at his shirt and they shared a smile. With so little history, still they found a piece now, at the altar—as per tradition, the bride-to-be must embroider her groom’s shirt.
‘I’m not marrying a billionaire to sit sewing!’ she had said teasingly, and Raúl had laughed, explaining that most women did not embroider all of the front of the shirt these days. Only a small area would be left for her, and Estelle could put on it whatever she wanted.
He had half expected a € but had frowned this morning when he had put on his shirt to find a small pineapple. Raúl still couldn’t work out what it meant, but it was nice to see her relax and smile as the service started.
They knelt together, and as the service moved along he explained things in his low, deep voice, heard only by her.
‘El lazo,’ he said as a loop of satin decorated with orange blossom was placed over his shoulders and then another loop from the same piece was placed over hers. The priest spoke then for a moment, in broken English, and Estelle’s cheeks burnt red as he told them that the rope that bound them showed that they shared the responsibility for this marriage. It would remain for the rest of the ceremony.
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