Yet, for all that she sensed the love between them, Ricardo seemed just a little...reserved? She wasn’t even sure it was the right description, for he wasn’t really detached or aloof in any way. There was something though...She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Every now and then she got the hint of something unspoken that hung in the air. Some...sorrow or remorse?
Dismissing the idea, she finished the last of her dessert. She was probably being oversensitive.
Raoul broke through her musings. ‘There are a few company matters I wish to discuss with Ricardo. Would you please excuse us if we adjourn to the study?’
‘Of course,’ Jessica replied politely.
‘Always business!’ Marguerite complained. ‘Never mind, it will give us a chance to get to know each other.’
Ricardo’s eyes blazed with need as he brushed a barely-there kiss on Jessica’s lips. ‘I promise to make this as brief as possible.’
Jessica smothered a small sound as his attention made her heart cart-wheel.
‘You love him,’ Marguerite observed with a satisfied smile as the men closed the door behind them.
Jessica nodded. ‘I do.’
Tears glistened in the older woman’s eyes. ‘You can’t begin to imagine how happy I am to hear it. Seeing you together makes me excited for the future. Has he told you he loves you, too?’
‘No,’ Jessica confessed with surprising ease. ‘I’m not sure he does.’
‘Oh, trust me, Jessica, he does.’
‘What makes you so sure?’
‘Ha! It’s in his every look — and he can hardly take his eyes off you. It’s in the way he touches you, the way he talks to you and the way he says your name when he’s speaking about you. I’ve never seen him like this with the women he’s introduced us to at formal functions, and he’s never brought a woman home for a family dinner.’
‘I hope you’re right.’
‘I am. I’ve been his mother since he was ten, so I should know what I’m talking about!’
‘It’s sad his parents died when he was so young, but good that you and Raoul were there for him.’
‘We’ve done everything we could for him, but Ricardo has suffered in many ways.’ Marguerite withdrew a lace trimmed handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes. ‘His grandfather, Hernandez, didn’t approve of Ricardo’s mother, Rosetta. He told Ricardo’s father, Fernando, that he’d be disowned if the marriage went ahead.’
‘Fernando obviously stood up to him and followed his heart.’
‘Yes, but it wasn’t a wise choice. Hernandez carried out his threat and also ensured Fernando was on the outer with the rest of Spanish society.’
‘Hernandez must have been a tyrant!’
‘Definitely.’ Marguerite nodded vigorously. ‘Poor Fernandez had always wanted to be an artist rather than going into the family business. His paintings didn’t sell well and he, Rosetta and Ricardo lived for years in poverty.’
Shock slammed into Jess. She had assumed Ricardo had a privileged upbringing.
‘Fernando was a proud man.’ Marguerite sniffed. ‘He wouldn’t accept help from Raoul.’
‘Even though he was poor while his parents were alive, was Ricardo happy?’
‘Sadly, his parents were absorbed with themselves. They made no time for him.’
Her heart caught. Sitting forward in her seat, Jess wanted to learn more about Ricardo’s upbringing. If she could understand the child he’d been, perhaps she could reach the man he’d become. ‘Ricardo’s very anti-commitment.’
Marguerite agreed. ‘It breaks my heart.’
Not as much as it breaks mine. ‘I don’t understand. It’s obvious you and Raoul love each other.’
‘Yes, but his parents were very unhappy,’ the older woman admitted as she grabbed a cushion and plumped it. ‘It’s not my story to tell you, but Ricardo had a traumatic childhood. There were problems in Fernando’s marriage from the day his father disowned him. I believe Rosetta loved Fernando at the start of their relationship, but she also loved the high-life. When Fernando couldn’t provide that lifestyle anymore, she grew restless and began to have affairs.’
Was his mother’s unfaithfulness the reason Ricardo didn’t believe in lasting love? It seemed likely.
Marguerite continued, ‘Rosetta was planning to abandon her husband and child when she died.’
Jess was already shaken by Marguerite’s revelations and every new piece of information was another aftershock to her system.
Ricardo had emphasised how Jessica’s mother had stuck with her until she could fend for herself. Jess hadn’t realised he’d been drawing parallels to his own mother.
A multitude of questions crowded her mind, begging to be answered.
‘Ricardo hasn’t spoken much of his parents. How did they die?’
Marguerite shifted, put the cushion down and picked up another. She began plumping it more firmly and evaded the question. ‘I like you very much, Jessica. I think Ricardo needs you so he can put the past behind him and get on with his life.’
Jess let her question slide, but realized there must be a story behind the deaths of Fernando and Rosetta.
‘We adopted Ricardo,’ Marguerite said. ‘He became a wonderful brother for our son.’
‘Oh, I didn’t realise you had a son.’
Sharp agony carved into the older woman’s features. ‘Santiago was five years younger than Ricardo.’
Registering Marguerite’s sadness and use of the past tense, Jess bit down on an inward curse. ‘Oh.’
Ricardo’s aunt gave Jessica an assessing look before she continued. ‘Ricardo became World Champion. Santiago was desperate to follow in his footsteps but he had a visual impairment that made it risky to race.’ She paused for a moment, tracing a fingertip over the pattern in the fabric of the cushion. ‘Ricardo was protective of him. He refused to allow Santiago on the team because of the risks. Without our knowledge, Santiago signed up to drive for a rival team. The very first time he drove was his last.’
Marguerite gave a little sob and Jess reached out to comfort her. ‘I’m so sorry. Please don’t go on when it’s so upsetting for you.’
Her gesture of denial was emphatic. ‘If you’re to understand Ricardo, you must understand the extent of what he has been through.’
Ricardo had suffered through the death of his parents. How much more had he endured?
‘Santiago went into the race as a mystery driver. He drove fearlessly, challenging Ricardo and pushing him on the first lap.’ She paused, visibly struggling to get a grip on her emotions. ‘They were only into the second lap of the race when Santiago misjudged the turn — a result of his poor vision, or perhaps just because of his inexperience. He got too close to Ricardo, clipped his car and they both spun. At that point, the steering column of Santiago’s car sheared off and he crashed into a concrete barrier.’
Jess gasped and her hands flew to her face.
‘Ricardo was lucky to escape with concussion after his car flipped a couple of times. He had no idea Santiago was the driver of the other car until he walked across the track and arrived just as race officials were removing my boy’s helmet. The moment he saw Santiago...the realisation of what had happened...’ She drew in a great sobbing breath. ‘Ricardo blamed himself for Santiago’s death.’
Dear God! Jessica couldn’t even begin to fathom the pain Ricardo had been through. ‘But, it was an accident!’
‘Yes, everyone knows it. If anything, it was an accident caused by Santiago’s driving. Raoul and I have told Ricardo, but he won’t accept that it wasn’t his fault.’
Jess rubbed one hand over her forehead. ‘Is that why he gave up racing?’
‘Yes.’ Marguerite’s lips thinned. ‘His grandfather was still alive then. Hernandez swore he would never allow Ricardo to race again for Garcia, even if he wanted to.’
‘But why? Wasn’t he world champion at the time? Wasn’t he still bringing in accolades for the company?’
‘Hernan
dez never forgave Fernando for marrying Rosetta. When Fernando...died, Hernandez transferred his anger to Ricardo.’
‘But, Ricardo was just a boy.’ Just what sort of monster had Hernandez been?
‘He was a boy who’d been traumatised and needed the love of his family, but he didn’t receive any love from his grandfather. Ever.’
‘That’s dreadful.’ Jessica leaned back. Weariness settled into her limbs as she digested all she’d learnt.
‘Raoul and I were torn,’ Marguerite continued. ‘Of course we loved Ricardo, but his grandfather refused to have anything to do with him. When Ricardo was still a boy, we were expected to visit the old man with Santiago each Christmas, Easter and on his birthday, but we were never allowed to take Ricardo with us.’
Jess felt her eyes fill with tears, even as outrage poured through her veins.
‘We made sure our visits to Hernandez were brief, but Ricardo found out he was being excluded and Raoul had to explain why. It made Ricardo all the more determined to earn his grandfather’s attention.’
‘And that’s why he went into Formula One Racing?’
‘Yes. He desperately sought his grandfather’s acceptance and love.’
‘Did Hernandez ever acknowledge him?’
‘Only once, but it was the cruellest acknowledgement of all.’ Marguerite dispensed of the cushion and began to wring her hands together on her lap.
‘Please, tell me,’ Jess requested gently.
‘When Santiago died, Hernandez went to visit Ricardo at the hospital. We heard the old man was there and thought he’d finally come to his senses and wanted to bond with his only surviving grandson. We arrived to hear him telling Ricardo that the only reason he’d ever allowed him to drive the Garcia car was because his life meant nothing. Hernandez said it should’ve been Ricardo who died in the accident, not Santiago.’ Tears ran down Marguerite’s cheeks. ‘Hernandez said if it hadn’t been for Ricardo, Santiago would never have taken up racing in the first place.’
Words failed Jessica. For all she thought she’d been hardly done by in her youth because of the path her mother had chosen, she hadn’t endured grief like Ricardo. Her vision blurred as tears flooded her eyes. ‘His grandfather died and never made his peace with Ricardo?’
Marguerite shook her head. ‘Raoul and his father had a dreadful falling out. Just a few days after the crash, while they were arguing, Hernandez had a fatal heart attack.’
Jess sat mutely and shook her head, hardly able to digest all the loss and pain.
‘I’m not even ashamed to say I was pleased when Hernandez died,’ the older woman confessed.
‘I don’t blame you. He sounds like a horrible man.’
‘Ricardo quit racing immediately after the crash, and was accepted as a board member when Hernandez died.’
‘Ricardo’s passionate about the company,’ Jess acknowledged. ‘He’s going to be a wonderful CEO.’
‘Love him, Jessica. He so deserves to be loved,’ the older woman cried.
Jess couldn’t hold back. She hugged Marguerite. Not only did she like the Spanish woman, but they shared a very special bond in both loving Ricardo.
‘Enough tears!’ Ricardo’s aunt said after a few moments. ‘Come, let’s wash our faces and reapply some make up. Ricardo won’t be happy if he knows of our discussion.’
Jess hoped that one day he’d trust her enough to tell her about this past sadness. Now, she thought she understood why Ricardo didn’t believe in love. His mother had been unfaithful and planned to dessert him. He’d lost his parents and cousin, and never gained the love he wanted from his grandfather.
Despite having the example of his aunt and uncle’s devotion, he’d chosen to date cold women. She doubted either of the ex-love interests she had met would know the meaning of the word love. The deepest attachment Simone or Carla had ever experienced was probably for their latest pair of designer shoes.
The enormity of the task that lay ahead of her hit her like a blow from a sledgehammer. If she was to win Ricardo’s heart she’d fight an uphill battle all the way. Closing her eyelids tight, she squeezed back tears.
She loved Ricardo.
He was worth fighting for and she was determined the power of her love would flow to him, heal him, and ensure they enjoyed a happy future together.
Chapter Ten
Ricardo swallowed down the last of his coffee and gazed unseeingly at the lights of Barcelona. It was almost sunrise but sleep had eluded him since they’d returned from Raoul’s.
His gut churned with indecision over Jessica. For the last few hours he’d tried to immerse himself in paperwork, but it had been too difficult to focus. She was like a fever in his blood, consuming his every waking moment and haunting his dreams.
What was it about her that affected him so undeniably?
For all that he’d had countless women on his arm and, to a lesser degree, through his bed, he didn’t know how to handle her. Being with her was like steering an unknown, high-powered vehicle through a long chicane, blindfolded. With each encounter, he rounded a new bend on the track. She challenged him and made him feel he was close to spinning out of control. He warred with himself — part of him wanted to apply the brakes while another part urged him to accelerate, and each time he thought he was making progress, she’d erect a guard rail to stop him.
The words she’d issued a couple of evenings ago replayed in his mind.
‘Don’t you think you can grow from being with someone else?’
Was he a coward, just as she’d accused?
Right from the start he’d wanted to understand her, protect her and ensure her happiness. Was that strength or a weakness?
When Juan had kissed her hand, Ricardo had been like a caveman who’d wanted to push him away and shout, ‘Mine!’ Ricardo hadn’t shied away from declaring their engagement announcement was likely. He’d done it without thinking — to protect her from Juan’s attention.
Marriage.
The word had always sent shivers down his spine. His parents’ marriage had ended in disaster and he’d sworn he’d never go down the same path.
‘Ricardo?’ Jessica’s voice startled him.
‘Jessica. Are you okay?’
The baggy cotton pyjamas she wore were far from sexy, but her hair was mussed up as though she’d been in bed. Her tousled look was definitely a turn-on.
‘I could ask you the same thing,’ she said. ‘Obviously you haven’t been to bed even though you’ll be going to work before long.’
The look he sent her surely conveyed his self-derision. ‘There seemed little point when I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep.’
‘I haven’t slept either.’
Awkwardness stretched and simmered in the air.
‘I’m going to make a cup of tea,’ she ventured.
‘The great English cure-all.’
‘Would you like a hot drink?’
He drew her attention to the empty coffee cup he held. ‘I’ve just had one.’ Another coffee wasn’t going to help. What he wanted was to take her to bed and lose himself in her body. That was the problem. How did he convince her to become his lover without breaking her heart in the process?
She walked toward him. ‘This tension between us isn’t healthy.’
‘There’s an easy solution.’
‘Thinking about your solution has kept me awake,’ she confessed.
Frustration tore through him. ‘Why does sex have to be an emotional thing with you? Don’t you realise emotion complicates everything?’
‘Maybe it’s because I grew up in a home where sex was a means to an end for my mother?’ She moved her shoulders and head in a gesture of apology. ‘I always vowed it would mean more to me — that it wouldn’t be just a mechanical act.’
‘Sex between us would not be a mechanical act!’ Dios! He wanted badly to hold her. He’d be far better at expressing himself physically than he was verbally. ‘I want you, Jessica, not just a physical release that any
woman could give me. If you come to bed with me, I’ll be making love to you, not just having sex. But, I won’t lie to you and tell you I believe in love or marriage.’
Jessica frowned.
He wasn’t sure what else to say to persuade her he was offering her more than just a quick tumble between the sheets.
‘You’ve told me I need to grow up. I spoke to my friend, Tiffany, last night on the phone after we returned from dinner. She said much the same thing.’ He noted the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath she took. ‘You said everything shouldn’t be about my mother, but I think I have a lot of hang-ups about sex because of my mum,’ she admitted quietly.
Her admission wasn’t surprising. ‘When we go to bed, it won’t be a commercial transaction.’
‘I know and I promise you I’m working through this in my head, but I’m not ready yet.’ She sent him an appealing look. ‘Would it be terribly unfair of me to ask you to hold me? Just to hold me? I so badly want to be in your arms.’
He closed his eyes for a second and considered the sweet torture of having her in his arms and not in his bed, then he put down his coffee cup. ‘Come here.’
She almost ran the short distance into his outstretched arms. Madre de Dios, she felt so good. She smelled so good. He buried his face in her hair and inhaled the fragrance of her shampoo.
Raising her head and standing on tiptoes, she took his face in her hands and angled his head so she could kiss him lightly. ‘I love being in your arms. You make me feel safe and incredibly feminine and soft.’
His laugh was short. ‘And you make me feel painfully hard, querida.’
‘I’m sorry. The thing that’s holding me back is that when I have sex again, I really want to feel loved.’
‘I like you and I care about you very much, can’t it be enough?’
She bit down on her lip before replying, ‘I’m working on my mindset. Tiffany said I was over-thinking everything.’
Her confusion reached out and squeezed his heart. Being exposed to her mother’s occupation had really messed with her head and left her with a huge complex. She had to separate herself from the actions of her mother.
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