The Playboy of Puerto Banus

by Carol Marinelli

  Estelle could hear noises from the kitchen and was relieved to have a reason to leave. ‘I’ll go and give Angela a hand.’ She went to climb out of bed, wondering if she should say anything about what Angela had told her last night. ‘I spoke to her yesterday…’

  ‘Later,’ Raúl said, and she nodded.

  Today was already going to be painful enough.

  * * *

  ‘Buenos días,’ Raúl greeted Angela.

  ‘Buenos días.’ Angela smiled. ‘I was just making your father his breakfast. What would you like?’

  ‘Don’t worry about us,’ Raúl said. ‘We’ll have some coffee and then Estelle and I might go for a walk.’

  ‘What time are you going back?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Raúl said. ‘Maybe we might stay a bit longer?’

  ‘That would be good,’ Angela said. ‘Why don’t you take your father’s tray in and tell him?’

  He was in there for ages, and Angela and Estelle shared a look when at one point they heard laughter.

  ‘I am so glad that they have had this time,’ Angela said, and then Raúl came out, and he and Estelle headed off for a walk along the sweeping hillsides on his father’s property.

  ‘Have you been here before?’ Estelle asked. ‘To San Sebastian, I mean?’

  ‘A couple of times,’ Raúl said. ‘Would you like to explore?’

  ‘We’re here to spend time with your father,’ Estelle said, nervous about letting her façade down, admitting just how much she would like to.

  ‘I guess,’ Raúl said. ‘But, depending on how long we stay, I am sure the newlyweds would like some private time too.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you be bored?’

  ‘If I am I can wait in the gift shop.’ Raúl smiled, and so did she, and then he told her some of what he had been talking about with his father. ‘He has told my aunt and uncle about Angela and Luka.’

  ‘When?’

  ‘Yesterday. When he knew I was on my way,’ Raúl said. ‘He didn’t want to leave it to me to tell them.’

  ‘How did they take it?’

  ‘He asked if we heard any shouting while we were flying up.’ Raúl gave a small mirthless laugh. ‘They want him dead, of course. He told them they wouldn’t have long to wait.’

  They walked for ages, hardly talking, and Raúl was comfortable with silence, because he was trying to think—trying to work out if she even wanted to hear what he was about to ask her.

  ‘You miss England?’

  ‘I do,’ Estelle said. ‘Well, I miss my family.’

  ‘Will you miss me?’ He stopped walking.

  She turned to him and didn’t know how to respond. ‘I won’t miss the clubs and the restaurants…’

  ‘Will you miss us?’

  ‘I can’t give the right answer here.’

  ‘You can.’ He took her in his arms. ‘You were right. I miss out on so much…’

  It was a fragile admission, she could feel that, and she was scared to grasp it in case somehow it dispersed. But she could not deny her feelings any longer. ‘You don’t have to.’

  His mouth was on hers and they were kissing as if for the first time—a teenage kiss as they paused in the hills, a kiss that had nothing to do with business; a kiss that had nothing to do with sex. His fingers were moving into her hair, touching her face as if he were blind, and she was a whisper away from telling him, from confessing the truth. Just so they could tell his father—just so there might be one less regret.

  ‘Raúl…’

  He looked into her eyes and she thought she could tell him anything when he looked at her like that. But for the moment she held back. Because a child was something far bigger than this relationship they were almost exploring. She remembered her vow to do this well away from their contract.

  ‘Let’s get back.’

  They walked down the hill hand in hand, talking about nothing in particular—about France, so close, and the drive they could maybe take tomorrow, or the next day. They were just a couple walking, heading back home to their family—and then she felt his hand tighten on hers.

  ‘It’s the médico.’

  They ran the remaining distance, though he paused for just a moment to collect himself before they pushed open the front door. Because even from there they could hear the sound of Angela sobbing.

  ‘Your father…’ Angela stumbled down the hall and Raúl held her as she wept into his arms. ‘He has passed away.’

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ESTELLE COULDN'T BELIEVE how quickly things happened.

  Luka arrived soon after, and spent time with his father. But it was clear he did not appreciate having Raúl and Estelle in his home.

  ‘Stay,’ Angela said.

  ‘We’ll go to a hotel.’

  ‘Please, Raúl…’

  Estelle’s heart went out to her, but it was clear that Luka did not want them there and so they spent the night in a small hotel. Raúl was pensive and silent.

  The next morning they stood in the small church to say farewell. The two brothers stood side by side, but they were not united in their grief.

  ‘I used to think Luka was the chosen one,’ Raúl said as they flew late that afternoon back to Marbella for the will to be read, as per his father’s wishes. ‘When I found out—when my father said he wanted to die there—I felt his other family were the real ones.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Luka sees things differently. He was a secret—his father’s shame. I got to work alongside him. I was the reason he did not see much of his father when he was small. His hatred runs deep.’

  ‘Does yours?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Raúl admitted. ‘I don’t know how I feel. I just want to get the reading of the will over with.’

  It wasn’t a pleasant gathering. Paola and Carlos were there, and the look they gave Angela as she walked in was pure filth.

  ‘She doesn’t need this—’ Estelle started, but Raúl shot her a look.

  ‘It was never going to be nice,’ he said.

  Estelle bit her lip, and tried to remember her opinion on his family was not what she was here for. But she kept remembering the night they had made love, their walk on the hill the next morning, and tried to hold on to a love that had almost been there—she was sure of it.

  She sat silent beside him as the will was read, heard the low murmurs as the lawyer spoke with Angela. From her limited Spanish, Estelle could make out that she was keeping the home in San Sebastian and there were also some investments that had been made in her name.

  And then he addressed Luka.

  Estelle heard a shocked gasp from Paola and Carlos and then a furious protest started. But Raúl sat still and silent and said nothing.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  He didn’t answer her.

  As the room finally settled the lawyer addressed Raúl. He gave a curt nod, then stood.

  ‘Come on.’

  He took her by the arm and they walked out.

  Angela followed, calling to him. ‘Raúl…’

  ‘Don’t.’ He shrugged her off. ‘You got what you wanted.’

  Estelle had to run to keep up with his long strides, but finally he told her what was happening.

  ‘His share of the business goes to Luka.’ His face was grey when he turned and faced her. ‘Even dying still he plays games, still he lies.’ He shook his head. ‘I get a vineyard…’

  ‘Raúl,’ Angela had caught up with them. ‘He saw how happy you two were the night before he died.’

  ‘He did not change his will.’

  ‘No, but it was his dream that his two sons would work side by side together.’

  ‘He should have thought about that twenty-five years ago.’

  ‘Raúl…’<
br />
  But Raúl was having none of it. He strode away from Angela and all too soon they were back in his apartment and rapid decisions were being made.

  ‘I’ll sell my share,’ he said. ‘I will start again.’ He would. Raúl had no qualms about starting again. ‘And I will sell that vineyard too…’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I don’t want it,’ he said. ‘I don’t want anything from him. I don’t want to build bridges with my brother.’ His mother’s business was being handed over to her husband’s illegitimate son—it would kill her if she wasn’t dead already.

  Raúl was back in the mountains—could hear her furious shouts and screams, the storm raging; he could hear the screech of tyres and the scrape of metal. He was over the cliff again. But that part he could manage—that part he could deal with. It was next part he dreaded.

  It was the silence after that, and he would do anything never to hear it again.

  ‘You don’t have to make any decisions tonight. We can talk about it—’

  ‘We?’ His lips tore into a savage smile. ‘We will talk about my future? Estelle, I think you are forgetting your place.’

  ‘No.’ She refused to deny it any longer. ‘The morning your father died, when were talking, we were both choosing to forget my place. If you want a relationship you can’t pick and choose the times!’

  ‘A relationship?’ He stared at her for the longest time.

  ‘Yes,’ Estelle said, and she was the bravest she had ever been. ‘A relationship. I think that’s what you want.’

  ‘Now she tells me what I want? You love me, do you? You care about me, do you? Have you any idea how boring that is to hear? I bought you so we could avoid this very conversation. You’d do well to remember that.’

  Estelle just stood there as he stormed out of the apartment. She didn’t waste her breath warning him this time.

  She refused to be his keeper.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  RAÚL SAT IN Sol’s with the music pumping and stared at the heaving dance floor.

  A vineyard.

  A vineyard which, if he sold it, wouldn’t even pay for his yacht for a year—would Estelle stick around then?

  Yes.

  He had never doubted his ability to start again, but he doubted it now—could not bear the thought of letting her down.

  ‘Te odio.’ He could hear his five-year-old voice hurling the words at his mother, telling her he hated her for missing his play.

  He’d been a child, a five-year-old having a row, yet for most of his life he had thought those words had driven his mother to despair that day.

  Could he do it?

  Whisk Estelle away from a family that loved her to live in the hills with a man who surely wasn’t capable of love?

  Except he did love her.

  And she loved him.

  He had done everything he could think of to ensure it would not happen, had put so many rules in place, and yet here it was—staring at him, wrapping around him like a blanket on a stifling day.

  He did not want her love, did not want the weight of it. Did not want to be responsible for another’s heart.

  She would stand by him, Raúl knew, but the fallout was going to be huge. The empire was divided. He could smell the slash and burn that would take place and he did not want her exposed to it.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket but he refused to look at it, because if he saw her name he would weaken.

  Raúl looked across the dance floor, saw an upper-class hooker, ordered her a drink and gestured her over.

  He took out some money and as she opened her bag made his request.

  ‘Lápiz de labios,’ Raúl said, and pointed to his neck.

  He did not have to explain himself to her. She delivered his request—put her mouth to his neck and did as he asked.

  ‘Perfume,’ he ordered next, and she took out her cheap scent and sprayed him.

  ‘Gracias.’

  It was done now.

  Raúl stood and headed for home.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘AMANDA.’ ESTELLE ATTEMPTED to sound normal when she answered the landline. She was staring at the picture of them on Donald’s wedding night, trying to fathom the man who simply refused to love.

  ‘I tried your mobile.’

  ‘Sorry…’ Estelle had started to talk about the charger she’d left in San Sebastian, started to talk about little things that weren’t important at all, when she realised that for once Amanda wasn’t being upbeat. ‘What’s happened?’

  ‘I tried to ring Raúl—I wanted him to break the news to you.’

  Estelle felt her heart turn to ice.

  ‘We’re at the hospital and the doctors say that they’re going to operate tomorrow.’

  ‘Has she put on any weight?’

  ‘She’s lost some,’ Amanda said. ‘But if they don’t operate we’re going to lose her anyway.’

  ‘I’m coming home.’

  ‘Please…’

  ‘How’s Andrew?’

  ‘He’s with her now. He’s actually been really good. He’s sure she’s going to make it through.’

  ‘She will.’

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Amanda admitted, and her sister-in-law who was always so strong, always so positive, finally broke down.

  Estelle said everything she could to comfort her, but knew they were only words, that she needed to be there.

  ‘I’m going to hang up now and book a flight,’ Estelle told her. ‘And I’ll try and sort out my phone.’

  ‘Don’t worry about the phone,’ Amanda said. ‘Just get here.’

  Estelle grabbed her case and started piling clothes in. Getting to the airport and onto a flight was her aim, but the thought of Cecelia, so small and so weak, undergoing something so major was just too overwhelming and it made Estelle suddenly fold over. She sobbed as she never had before—knew that she had to get the tears out now, so she could be strong for Amanda and Andrew.

  Raúl heard her tears as he walked through the apartment and could not stand how much he had hurt her—could not bear that he had done this.

  ‘Estelle…’ He saw the case and knew that she was leaving.

  ‘Don’t worry.’ She didn’t even look at him. ‘The tears aren’t for you. Cecelia has been taken back into hospital. They can’t wait for the surgery any longer…’ She thought of her again, so tiny, and of what would happen to her parents if they lost her. The tears started again. ‘I need to get back to them.’

  ‘I’ll fix it now.’

  He couldn’t not hold her.

  Could not stand the thought of her facing this on her own, not being there beside her.

  He held her in his arms and she wept.

  And he could not fight it any more for he loved her.

  ‘We’ll go now.’

  ‘No.’ She was trying to remember that she was angry, but it felt so good to be held.

  ‘Estelle, I’ve messed up, but I know what I want now. I know…’

  She smelt it then—the cheap musky scent; she felt it creep into her nostrils. She moved out of his arms and looked at him properly, smelt the whisky on his breath and saw the lipstick on his neck.

  ‘It’s not what you think,’ Raúl said.

  ‘You’re telling me what I think, are you?’ Oh, she didn’t need him to teach her to cuss in Spanish! ‘You win, Raúl!’ Her expression revealed her disgust. ‘I’m out of here!’

  The tears stopped. They weren’t for him anyway. She just turned and went on filling her case.

  ‘Estelle—’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it, Raúl.’ She didn’t even raise her voice.

  ‘Okay, not now. We will speak about it on the plane.’ />
  ‘You’re not coming with me, Raúl.’

  ‘Your brother will think it strange if I do not support you.’

  ‘I’m sure my brother has other things on his mind.’ She looked at him, dishevelled and unshaven, and scorned him with her eyes. ‘Don’t make this worse for me, Raúl.’

  He went to grab her arm, to stop her.

  ‘Don’t touch me!’

  He heard her shout, heard the pain—not just for what was going on with her niece, but for the agony of the betrayal she perceived.

  ‘You can’t leave like this. You’re upset…’

  ‘I’m upset about my niece!’ She looked at him. ‘I would never cry like this over a man who doesn’t love me.’ She didn’t care how much she hurt him now. ‘I’m not your mother, Raúl, I’m not going fall apart, or drive over a cliff-edge because the man I’m married to is a cheat. I’m far stronger than that.’

  She was.

  ‘All I want now is to get home to my niece.’

  He’d lost her. Raúl knew that. Arguing would be worse than futile, for she needed to be with her family urgently.

  ‘I will call my driver and organise a plane.’

  ‘I can sort out transport myself.’ Tears for him were starting now, and she didn’t want Raúl to see—love was not quite so black and white.

  ‘If you take my plane it will get you there sooner,’ Raúl said.

  And it would get her away from him before she broke down—before she told him about the baby…before she weakened.

  It was the only reason she said yes.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  RAÚL STOOD IN the silence.

  It was the sound he hated most in the world.

  It was his nightmare.

  Only this was one he had created.

  The scent that filled his nostrils was not leaking fuel and death but the scent of cheap perfume and the absence of her.

  He wanted to chase Estelle—except he was not foolish enough to get in a car, and he could not follow her as his driver was taking her to the airport.