The Purest of Diamonds?

by Susan Stephens

  ‘I’ve handled this badly,’ he admitted. ‘I keep things simple so I don’t end up with children who are farmed out to their grandparents, because their parents have better things to do.’

  ‘Is that what happened to you, Raffa?’

  He could do without the compassion on her face. He didn’t need anyone’s pity, and, with an impatient gesture, he turned away.

  ‘You already told me that your grandmother brought you up—’

  ‘And made a damn good job of it,’ he said quietly.

  ‘So your parents didn’t want children—’

  ‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please stop before you make things worse.’

  ‘You’ll see,’ she said confidently. ‘In a few months’ time our baby will be here and you’ll feel differently.’

  The irony of their role reversal struck him, as Leila, speaking with such confidence about the birth, left him racked with fear for her. She couldn’t know what lay ahead of her, and this new Leila was frightened of nothing and no one—would listen to no one, not even him.

  ‘I’m only concerned for your safety, and for the baby’s safety,’ he assured her. ‘But if you want to hear that I’m the by-product of too much sex and too little love, then you would be right.’

  ‘So where does that leave us, Raffa?’

  ‘All you need to know is that love was never a factor. Not once. Not ever—’

  He was still back in the past, talking about his parents, but then he noticed that Leila’s face had turned ashen. She thought he was talking about them.

  ‘Well, if nothing else,’ she said gamely, ‘I understand you better now.’

  He should have known she would find some good amongst the debris. As the ghosts bore down on him he shook his head. ‘I doubt that somehow.’

  The mother he’d never known was dead. And his father—a man he hadn’t spoken to for years—was currently sunning himself with the latest in a long line of teenage girlfriends in Monte Carlo. His grandmother had saved him, and it was Abuelita who had restored his faith in human nature.

  Leila put her hand on his arm, and he was sure they both felt the shock of the physical contact. ‘I should have found some better way to tell you,’ she said. ‘But at least you know now. Perhaps it would be better for all concerned if things are handled formally between us by a third party as you suggested. I’ll return home as soon as you can make arrangements for me to leave.’

  No, was his first reaction. She couldn’t leave. For a whole raft of reasons, not least of which was Leila herself, fast followed by his concern over the birth of her child. There must have been something of this in his eyes as he turned to look at her, and she lifted her hand as if to ward him off. Moving her hand aside, he dragged her close.

  ‘Don’t do this, Raffa. Please...’

  She knew it was hopeless to resist just as he did. The passion between them was so easily ignited and it had been far too long for both of them. As Leila reached up to link her hands behind his neck, he kissed her hungrily, and, lifting her into his arms, he carried her across the hallway and up the stairs into his apartment. Kicking the door shut behind him, he crossed the room and laid her down on the bed. Undoing the buckle on his jeans, he lowered the zipper and freed himself. Lifting Leila’s skirt, he dispensed with her thong and settled over her. Driving a thigh between her legs—

  He stopped.

  Massively erect and hideously frustrated, he stopped.

  Pulling back, he swung off the bed.

  ‘What?’ she said, reaching for him.

  ‘I can’t do this, Leila.’ Raking stiff fingers through his hair, he asked himself, what had he become? And then he swung round to find Leila crying.

  Dios! What a mess this was.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LEILA CRYING SHAMED HIM. She wasn’t the type to use tears as a weapon, or even as a last resort. Leila had never been quiet and ineffective. She possessed an inner strength. Even now she wasn’t making a fuss as she straightened her clothes with a gentle grace that made him feel more of a brute than ever.

  ‘Thank you,’ she whispered, sensing his gaze on her.

  ‘What the hell are you thanking me for?’

  ‘You stopped,’ she said as if that were obvious. ‘You knew when to stop.’ She looked up at him. ‘And you could stop, Raffa.’

  ‘Of course I could stop.’ He frowned. ‘I can’t imagine why that should surprise you.’

  Unless...

  ‘Perhaps we both have issues from the past we’re still working through,’ she said, confirming his worst suspicions. ‘I wanted you with a madness that drove everything else from my mind, and I think you wanted me.’

  ‘You only think?’

  ‘But you realised it wasn’t the right time for either of us, and so you stopped.’

  ‘Of course I stopped.’ He shook his head, trying to make sense of something that made no sense. He lifted his shoulders in a shrug. ‘I had to stop.’

  His world might be very different from Leila’s, according to her, but trust between a man and a woman when they were having sex was a given. He wondered now what she was hiding, and suddenly he dreaded hearing her answer to the question he had to ask. ‘Have you been assaulted, Leila?’

  ‘No.’

  She spoke so quickly he believed her, but there was still a haunted look in her eyes.

  ‘But there is something?’

  He waited, but she said nothing more.

  ‘I would never hurt you. I hope you know that.’

  She didn’t answer. She wasn’t ready to talk to him yet. He knew something of Leila’s family history from the press reports, and now his imagination was working overtime. The thought of what she might have seen at home chilled him. ‘Can you tell me what’s wrong?’ he pressed gently.

  ‘Not now, Raffa.’

  She would tell him, he hoped, but it would be in her own time. ‘Will you be all right in here if I leave you for a while?’ He sensed she needed space; he did too.

  ‘Of course I’ll be all right, Raffa.’

  There was such a mix of emotion in her eyes when she looked up at him, he guessed neither of them had an answer for the heat that had flared between them.

  ‘Come and find me when you’re ready,’ he suggested. ‘Have a rest—or don’t have a rest. Do whatever you think best.’

  ‘Thank you. I will,’ she assured him quietly.

  * * *

  She waited until all the rattling atoms in the room had settled like dust, and then, standing up, she brushed herself down as if brushing away the ghosts of the past. It was time to tell Raffa everything. She wanted to help him, and if she confided in him perhaps they could rebuild their trust. It was time to open up in the hope that he would do the same.

  She guessed she’d find him in the courtyard. He was chatting with some of the older men who had come along to help him organise the fair. Sensing her arrival, he turned to look at her long before she reached him.

  ‘Good—you’re here,’ he said. ‘Let’s go for that walk.’ He introduced her and then explained their intentions in Spanish to the group of elderly men, who smiled broadly at her and, like everyone else on the island, instantly made her feel a very welcome part of their community.

  ‘The gardens?’ Raffa suggested as he escorted her through the line of stalls.

  ‘Perfect,’ Leila agreed.

  The gardens surrounding the castle were ordered and tranquil, and she couldn’t think of anywhere better to say the words she had never shared with anyone, not even her sisters or her brother, Tyr.

  The scent of the recently watered grass combined with the heady scent of the roses in the flower beds was both intoxicating and soothing, and when they stopped beside a fountain she dabbled her fingertips in the cooling pool.
/>   ‘My father beat my mother. Not once, but many times.’ Her voice was flat, devoid of expression.

  ‘Dios, Leila.’

  ‘My mother knew I’d seen what had happened,’ she continued without looking at Raffa. ‘It was our unspoken pact. We both knew my father would never dare to touch her in front of my sisters, let alone in front of Tyr. She explained away the bumps and bruises as her own clumsy fault. I suppose that’s why my mother’s last wish was that I didn’t live scared because of what I’d seen.’

  Gathering Leila into his arms, he held her close. ‘You are strong,’ he whispered fiercely against her hair. ‘Your mother would be proud of you, Leila. You’re stronger than you know.’

  ‘How can that be when I’ve done everything wrong?’ she whispered.

  ‘What have you done wrong?’ he demanded, pulling back to look at her.

  ‘I tried to become the woman my mother always wanted me to be, and look what a mess I’ve made of everything. I should have told you about the baby the instant I knew.’

  ‘If you could have found me,’ he reminded her. ‘I’m good at disappearing.’

  ‘Like my brother, Tyr,’ she mused.

  His loyalty to Tyr made him ignore that comment. ‘And as far as dealing with the ghosts of the past is concerned, I’d say you’ve coped a lot better than I have.’

  ‘What do you mean by that, Raffa?’

  He shrugged it off. ‘Whatever else this baby means to you, Leila, it can’t form part of your self-improvement plan.’

  ‘That’s just it. I never planned to have a baby with you, Raffa. I never sleep around. I never have. And I certainly wouldn’t use you to have a baby.’

  ‘But now you are pregnant I must help you.’ His heart lurched at the thought that Leila might say no. His plans to control every aspect of this birth were already taking shape in his mind.

  ‘Don’t look so haunted, Raffa. I’m healthy and I’m young, and I’ll do everything I can to give our child the best possible start in life.’

  ‘You have to allow me to worry about you. I always plan ahead, but still things can go wrong.’

  ‘Nothing’s going to go wrong, Raffa.’

  As far as she knew. He was prepared to cut Leila all the slack in the world after what she’d told him, and he would try his best to calm his raging concern where the actual birth of the baby was concerned, but, where Leila’s life and the life of their unborn child was concerned, he refused to take any chances.

  ‘So what’s your solution, Raffa?’

  ‘We take things one step at a time. I’ll have my doctors check you over and then we can move forward with more confidence to the next stage.’

  She flashed him a reproachful glance. ‘You mean you want your doctor to make sure it’s your baby?’

  ‘No. My only concern is that you and the baby are healthy, Leila. I’m suggesting you have a scan, to establish how far the pregnancy has progressed, so you know that everything’s progressing normally.’

  ‘You should be there for the first scan. A friend showed me a picture once. It’s...’ She stopped and smiled at him. ‘There are no words.’ Leila’s face was rapt.

  ‘That may not be possible. I have...commitments.’ Commitments he couldn’t discuss with Tyr’s sister.

  ‘Oh,’ she said softly, masking her bitter disappointment behind a brave face and a determined chin.

  ‘And we have to decide where you’ll live,’ he said, moving on.

  ‘In Skavanga, of course.’ She frowned.

  ‘With my child? So I can look forward to seeing my son or daughter—what? Every six weeks or so?’

  She couldn’t meet his gaze.

  ‘I don’t think so, Leila. When we have a clearer picture of when the baby’s due, I’ll draw up a visitation plan—’

  ‘You’ll draw it up?’

  ‘In consultation with you.’

  ‘You make it sound so cold. You can’t just drive through what suits you best, Raffa. I’ll take care of our child, and not with you looking over my shoulder to see if you approve.’

  ‘And how will you do that on the salary you currently earn?’

  ‘I have shares in the mine and, when your consortium has completed its investment and everything is running at full capacity, I’ve been led to believe I should be paid a healthy dividend.’

  ‘You will benefit,’ he agreed, ‘but not enough. You’re a very small shareholder, and my child—’

  ‘Ah,’ she interrupted. ‘So now we come to it. Any child of yours will have different needs from every other child in the world. If it’s a boy it will inherit a dukedom, and either sex will inherit a fortune. Where I come from, love and food and warmth and safety are the primary requirements for a child.’

  ‘That’s where we differ, Leila, because I don’t see any separation between me and the rest of the world.’

  ‘Just a few billion.’

  ‘That doesn’t make me special. I got lucky, that’s all.’

  ‘And you work hard,’ Leila remarked in her equal-handed way.

  ‘Yes, I do, and I don’t want you working all the hours God sends in order to support our baby. This is my responsibility too. I’m just trying to make things easier for you, Leila.’

  ‘But you live in such a different world.’

  ‘It’s warmer,’ he agreed wryly.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ she insisted, but thankfully he had succeeded in lightening the atmosphere, and now she was trying not to smile.

  * * *

  ‘As far as I’m concerned, we live in the same world, Leila. You want to work. I want to work. If a child enters my life I want that child to enjoy the benefits I can provide for it. Otherwise, what the hell am I working for?’

  If he could brush aside his fears for Leila for only a second he could see that with a child in his life there would be real purpose to the drive that carried him forward so relentlessly. He worked to help others, but to be able to do that and have a child of his own to do things for...

  ‘I would never stop you seeing the baby, Raffa.’

  He refocused on Leila’s face, wondering what had prompted that remark. ‘Custody is a long way from being decided yet.’

  ‘But a child should live with its mother—’

  ‘Don’t you trust me, Leila?’

  ‘Yes...’

  No, he thought as she fell silent. Leila didn’t trust him with something as precious as her child. Why should she when she hardly knew him? Leila only wanted to be a good mother. She would never forget that her own mother had been killed so tragically when she was so young, or what a sense of loss she had felt since then.

  ‘We’ll decide this together. Perhaps we should continue this discussion when you’re feeling less emotional.’

  ‘In around a couple of years’ time?’ she suggested, her amused glance flashing up to meet his.

  ‘Whenever you’re ready,’ he said gently.

  There was a long silence and then she said, ‘I think I’m always going to be influenced by the letter my mother wrote to me before she died. I think she was trying to prepare me for the big things in life, like this.’

  ‘A letter?’

  ‘I had to promise to be bold...take life by the scruff of the neck and forge my own path, rather than allowing the past to haunt me and hold me back.’ She smiled. ‘I was trying to get the balance right and went overboard on the night of the party.’

  They both had, he remembered, thinking back. Before that night he guessed Leila had made do with dreams, because dreams were safe and available to everyone, even the quietest of sisters. ‘We will work this out, Leila, and while we do there’s something you could do for me.’

  She looked at him and raised a brow. ‘What could I possibly do for you, Raffa?’


  His grandmother’s illness had really thrown him. Leila’s news had really thrown him. Perhaps if he brought the two of them together... ‘There’s someone I’d like you to meet.’

  ‘Who?’ she said suspiciously.

  ‘My grandmother. You did say you’d like to meet her.’

  ‘I would. But how does that help our situation?’

  ‘I don’t know. Maybe it won’t,’ he admitted. ‘But I think we should tell her you’re expecting her first great-grandchild, don’t you?’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAFFA WANTED TO introduce her to the matriarch of his family? Maybe he was right and she was blinkered. Seeing herself as the small-town girl and Raffa as somehow inhabiting a different world was blown to smithereens when he had exactly the same concerns she had: family, and the people who depended on him.

  ‘But what can I tell your grandmother?’ The last thing she wanted was to upset an old lady who had been sick recently. ‘I’m pregnant with your child, but I’m going home to Skavanga, so she may never see her great-grandchild. Perhaps it’s better if we don’t meet.’

  ‘I won’t force you to meet her.’

  ‘Your grandmother has been ill and I can’t imagine that meeting me is going to make her feel better.’

  ‘You’d be surprised.’ A glint of amusement brightened his eyes. ‘You’d give her hope.’

  ‘I don’t see how.’

  ‘She’s given up on me becoming any type of family man.’

  ‘So you parade me in front of her? How’s that going to work? I don’t doubt your grandmother longs for you to settle down and give her a great-grandchild, but please leave me out of it.’