Stop!
For a wild moment she imagined she’d screamed the word out loud.
What was wrong with her?
Somehow she managed a seemingly polite façade as the drinks steward approached and offered a formal greeting and presented Raúl with the wine list.
‘We have an excellent selection. Do you have a particular preference, or would you prefer me to offer a suggestion?’
Dark eyes captured her own. ‘Gianna?’
It was easy to defer, and she did so with a polite smile. ‘You choose.’
He did…a mild red, well-known as one of Australia’s finest vintages.
‘Mineral water—still,’ she added, and earned Raúl’s faintly arched eyebrow.
‘The need for a clear head?’
‘An aversion to drink-driving.’
‘Wise.’
She summoned a sweet smile as she accepted the proffered menu, and pretended to study the various selections while attempting to deal with a host of conflicting emotions.
It didn’t make sense.
She was over him…had been for a while, she reiterated silently.
To the point of weighing up the need to initiate divorce. Three years… Even discounting the initial few months of separation, when she’d retreated into despair, sufficient time had elapsed to reach a decision. So…why the nervous tension? Or the wildly beating pulse-rate that threatened to go off the Richter scale?
She couldn’t be susceptible to him…surely?
The mere thought was untenable. Impossible.
She was unaware of her teeth worrying the soft swell of her lower lip or of the faint narrowing of Raúl’s eyes as he caught the gesture.
‘Shall we order?’
The thought of forking morsels of food in his presence held little appeal. Consequently she settled for an entree as a main, with a side salad, and declined dessert.
It was as he lifted his goblet of wine that she noticed a gleam of gold on his left hand, and her eyes widened in recognition of the unique handcrafted band she’d placed there on the day of their wedding.
He still wore it?
Why so surprised, when her own still graced her hand?
Admittedly transferred to her right hand. A wide bevelled gold band encrusted with diamonds. She had been morally unable to discard it while the marriage remained valid.
Gianna searched for something to say…and came up with nothing that made any sense.
You’re looking well didn’t cut it.
How is business these days? seemed ludicrous, given his consortium had inevitably diversified into areas she had little or no comprehension of, racking up millions in the process.
Failure and Raúl Velez-Saldaña did not equate.
He was a hard-hearted ruthless entrepreneur, well-respect ed for his uncanny ability to successfully manipulate and strategise, forging ahead with unfailing resolve when colleagues and adversaries chose to opt out.
Yet each acquisition was carefully and painstakingly researched, every possible angle examined to the nth degree.
She could recall the times she’d awakened alone in their bed in the late-night hours, only to find him closeted in his home office studying graphs and projections on-screen.
Then she would go to him, ease the tension in tight shoulder and neck muscles, and suggest he needed sleep…only to have him smile, press save and pull her onto his lap. Sleep, as such, had rarely happened for a while.
Dear heaven…why were such memories surfacing now?
It was madness. A brief moment of insanity she immediately banished to the nether regions of hell.
‘I suggest you tell me precisely what Teresa will expect of me.’ Her voice sounded calm, even to her own ears…amazing, given she was an emotional mess.
‘The pleasure of your company. One-on-one time.’ His eyes speared her own—dark, enigmatic. ‘She occasionally lunches with a few close friends, and I imagine she will delight in having you join her.’
Not a difficult ask. She held his gaze, silently wishing it wasn’t so hard to do so. ‘I’ll be happy to fit in with whatever Teresa wants me to do.’
A woman Gianna held in high esteem, whose compassion, genuine affection and loyalty had helped fill the void left by losing her own mother at a young age.
The only stumbling block was Raúl himself, for spending any time in his company would be difficult, to say the least.
Yet a few weeks wasn’t a lifetime, she rationalised. Primarily, her purpose was to fulfil Teresa’s wish to be able to say goodbye in person.
Time to focus on the prosaic…and she did it by forking delicate morsels of food without tasting a thing.
Soon the meal would conclude and she could leave, retrieve her car from the shopping complex and retreat to the sanctuary of her apartment.
If only it were that simple.
Yet nothing about the man seated opposite could be categorised as simple. For how was it possible for her to feel as if she’d been caught up in a sensual whirlpool when she’d vowed to hate him?
It didn’t make sense.
So? a tiny voice taunted. Why waste time and energy attempting to solve the impossible?
Raúl ate with evident enjoyment, and she found it annoying that he could appear so totally at ease when she felt as if she was caught up in an emotional maelstrom.
‘Perhaps you’d care to enlighten me about your life in the intervening three years?’
‘Specifically?’
‘Insignificant personal details.’
‘Such as?’
Oh, spit it out, why don’t you? ‘Your current lover.’
His eyes darkened measurably, and she glimpsed a muscle bunch at the edge of his jaw. ‘Do you particularly want to cover old ground?’
‘Not really.’ Amazing how much it still hurt. ‘I think it’s reasonable to ask if I’m likely to be confronted by a woman in your life.’
‘That isn’t a consideration.’
Which didn’t answer the question.
‘Sierra?’
‘A brief testament to her superb acting and my poor judgement well before I met you,’ Raúl insisted silkily. ‘And never afterwards.’
It surprised her how much she wanted to believe him. Yet the evidence was stacked heavily against him.
It was a relief when the meal concluded. She declined coffee, then retrieved a few notes to cover her share and placed them on the table.
‘You choose to insult me?’
His voice was silky soft and dangerous. Something Gianna elected to ignore.
‘Not at all.’ She stood to her feet, and felt a moment’s reservation when Raúl followed suit. ‘I imagine we’ll be in touch?’ she offered, with the utmost politeness.
She didn’t wait for his answer as she turned from the table, acknowledging the maître d’ with a faint smile as she exited the restaurant into the main lobby.
The sense of relief was enormous, and she was conscious of the click of her stiletto heels on the tiled floor as she crossed to the automatic front doors.
The concierge inclined his head as she passed through into the spacious courtyard, and she’d almost reached the overhead pedestrian bridge when Raúl joined her.
He had the tread of a cat, and she sent him a level look as she kept walking. ‘We’ve already said goodnight.’
‘I don’t recall goodnight being mentioned.’ His voice held drawled cynicism.
‘How remiss of me,’ Gianna said sweetly. ‘Buenas noches.’
Traffic flowed freely on the dual carriageway beneath them. In all probability patrons heading towards the parking facilities offered by the many restaurants situated in the immediate vicinity.
‘There’s no need for you to play the gentleman,’ she voiced as they reached the upper level of the shopping complex. ‘I’m perfectly capable of reaching my car unaided.’
‘Of course you are.’
He followed her onto the escalator, and when she stepped onto ground level he accom
panied her down to the underground parking area.
She ignored him and crossed to the bay containing her small Lexus sedan, released the remote locking mechanism, slid in behind the wheel and ignited the engine. ‘Satisfied?’
Far from it, he admitted. But she would keep.
He removed a card from his pocket and handed it to her through the open window. ‘My cellphone number.’
The overhead fluorescent lighting threw his features into shadow, making his expression difficult to define.
‘Thanks.’
The window slid closed, and she lifted a hand in a polite wave as she sent the car towards the exit ramp.
With care she entered the stream of traffic, turned left towards the roundabout, then circled back along the southbound carriageway leading towards Main Beach.
It wasn’t until she reached the solitude of her apartment that she allowed herself to relax, and she scooped up the fluff-ball patiently awaiting her arrival.
‘Hi, there, gorgeous.’ She stroked the soft fur beneath his chin. ‘Miss me?’
His response was to curl his head into the palm of her hand as she made for the kitchen to feed him.
When he was happily eating, she removed her stilettos and crossed to her bedroom, where she discarded her clothes, showered. Then, attired in her night wear, she took a cup of tea into the room she’d converted into her home office, set up her laptop, and worked until Jazz leapt up onto the desk in protest.
‘Yes, I know. Time to call it a night.’
She lifted both arms and stretched, felt the stiffness of neck and shoulder muscles, then saved her work, closed down, placed Jazz in his sleep basket and entered her bedroom.
It was late, much later than she usually chose to retire, and she slid beneath the bedcovers, switched off the bedside lamp…aware that within minutes the adorable fluff-ball would disdain his sleep basket, enter her room, and leap onto the foot of the bed, where he’d settle comfortably and remain until morning.
Raúl’s disturbing image intruded, and she replayed the evening from the moment he entered the boutique until she left the underground car parking area. An hour and a half, that was all, yet she could recall every detail.
None of which aided an easy passage into restful sleep, and it didn’t help that he entered her dreams…sequences that switched from happy to sad without rhyme or reason.
Consequently she woke feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all. Worse, her head threatened a doozy of a headache, and she’d have given almost anything to be able to take the day off.
Except it wasn’t an option. She had work to do, things to organise…
Rise and shine, she bade herself silently as she slid from the bed. Time to shower, dress, eat breakfast, grab a caffeine fix, then move it.
CHAPTER THREE
ONE day bled into another: hectic long hours where multi-tasking became a necessity, not an option, and sleep was something Gianna sought in the late-night hours, only to wake at dawn and repeat the process all over again.
Somewhere in there she factored in a call to Ben, explained her decision, and listened to his voiced caution.
It didn’t help that he disapproved…for good reason. He didn’t want to see her hurt again.
‘Two weeks, Ben,’ she reassured him. ‘I’ll be with Teresa in Mallorca. Raúl will remain in Madrid most of the time.’
‘I hope so, for your sake. You’re determined to do this?’
‘Yes. For Teresa.’
‘OK, but take care,’ he warned. ‘And stay in touch.’
‘I will.’ A promise she’d keep, without fail.
Annaliese accepted the managerial position with remarkable ease, and together they conducted the interviewing, trial and selection of a new team member for Bellissima, choosing a capable salesperson with an impressive CV and a pleasant personality. Gianna elected to retain another applicant on call, should the need arise for back-up.
By week’s end most everything was in place, and when the weekend—the boutique’s busiest days—passed without a hitch, there seemed no logical reason not to contact Raúl.
There were, of course, any number of the illogical kind…most of which she’d considered and discarded several times in any one day.
Except she’d given her word and, failing an accident or illness, in a matter of days she’d board a private jet en route to Madrid, with Raúl in attendance.
Something she’d give almost anything to avoid.
Oh…suck it up, she chastised herself in silent admonition.
He was CEO of the Velez-Saldaña conglomerate. A man who worked long hours and travelled extensively.
Two weeks. Why, she’d probably only see him a few times, and then she could excuse herself on the pretext of giving mother and son quality time.
Raúl had only phoned once since the evening they’d shared dinner. And then the conversation had been a brief, matter-of-fact request for an update with a view to fixing a departure time.
So she made the call, and ignored the faint shivery sensation that slithered down her spine at the sound of his deep faintly accented drawl.
‘Gianna.’
Why should she be surprised he had her number listed on his caller ID register? Except it was recorded as a private listing, and only essential business colleagues and close friends had been given it.
For a moment she felt inclined to pull him up on it—except he had sources, influence and possessed the manipulative power to acquire almost any information he wanted.
Cool? She could do cool. ‘I can be available to leave Wednesday.’
‘I’ll have a car waiting outside your apartment complex at six Wednesday morning.’
Her back stiffened. ‘I’d prefer to take a taxi and meet you at the airport.’
‘Your bid for independence is admirable. Although totally unnecessary. given we’ll both be heading in the same direction.’ He paused imperceptibly. ‘Six, Gianna.’
She heard the faint click as he ended the call, and she tamped down the faint growl threatening to emerge from her throat.
‘Problems?’
She schooled her expression at the sound of Annaliese’s voice and summoned a faint smile. ‘No.’
None that she couldn’t deal with, she assured herself silently as she prepared to leave the boutique at midday on Tuesday. She needed to collect Jazz and deliver him to the boarding cattery, alert Reception she’d be absent from her apartment for two weeks, then pack.
At some stage she also needed to eat. And clear her refrigerator of any food liable to expire before her return.
Just do it.
Don’t allow yourself to think.
It was late when she finally made it to bed, and she set the alarm, then prepared to sleep…only to toss and turn and wake at dawn, aware that the last thing she remembered was the digital clock read-out signalling 2:15 a.m. in luminous green.
The urge to bury her head beneath the pillow was difficult to ignore. Although the risk of sleeping through the alarm proved a sufficient deterrent, and she determinedly threw back the bedcovers.
Coffee, hot, strong and sweet, then she’d shower, do a final check of the apartment, her travel documents, dress…
It was almost six when Gianna took the elevator down to Reception, and it came as no surprise to see Raúl’s tall figure positioned in the adjoining lounge area.
For a few timeless seconds his eyes locked with hers, and she determinedly ignored the slow curl of nerves set on causing havoc deep within, even while she silently damned them to hell.
His sexual alchemy proved a powerful force—something of which he was surely aware. How could he not be? she thought cynically. Women of all ages vied for his attention…openly flirting while issuing silent and not so silent invitations in a bid to discover for themselves if his reputation between the sheets held true.
To Gianna’s knowledge he never took up with any of them. Except how could she know for sure?
Absent this morning was the corpora
te business suit, buttoned shirt and tie. Instead he’d chosen casual attire—tailored black trousers, black butter-soft leather jacket, and a white chambray shirt unbuttoned at the neck.
An overall look which emphasised his blatant masculinity and gave Gianna pause to question her sanity.
Two weeks, she reminded herself stoically. Fourteen days…most of which would pass without her seeing him at all.
So what is the problem? Begin as you mean to go on, she cautioned herself staunchly as he crossed to her side.
‘Good morning.’ Her voice sounded matter-of-fact, and for a second she thought she caught a glimpse of wry humour in his dark eyes before he returned the greeting.
‘Ready?’
As she’d ever be, she assured herself silently as she deliberately summoned a slight smile. ‘Yes.’
Except she wasn’t quick enough to release her bag as Raúl reached for it, and something deep inside her quivered as his fingers came into brief contact with her own before she snatched her hand away.
So much for remaining cool, calm and collected. They hadn’t even reached the airport, let alone left Australia, and already she was twitchy.
Oh, great. She had to get through a long flight before she’d be free of him. Hours…. Too many of them, she perceived as she preceded him out to the car.
Was he aware how unsettled he made her feel?
For sure, Gianna conceded wryly as she slid into the passenger seat while he stowed her bag in the boot.
What did one discover as a suitable topic of conversation with an ex-lover who also happened to be her husband? Soon to be ex, she amended, for the path to divorce was merely a formality.
The weather? The state of world affairs? She pondered as Raúl took the ocean-front route to the airport.
What would his reaction be if she aimed straight for the jugular and queried him sweetly about his ex-lover, the self-possessed Sierra Montefiore, who’d sensed a slender crack in Gianna’s marriage and closed in for the kill?
Not a good way to begin the day, the flight, or a two-week sojourn in Mallorca. So sticking to the prosaic seemed safe, not to mention wise.
Pretend, Gianna bade silently. And she did…with polite charm and considerable poise. She even played Gold Coast host by pointing out new high-rise apartment buildings, and proposed ventures in the pipeline for the rapidly growing tourist city.
Public Marriage, Private Secrets Page 3