The Purest of Diamonds?

by Susan Stephens

  Leila nodded wryly. ‘Promise you’ll come and see me in Skavanga when the baby’s born.’

  ‘Try and keep me away. But I’m going to ask something of you in return.’

  ‘To visit you?’ Leila guessed.

  ‘Correct.’ The old lady’s gaze was unwavering as she offered Leila her hand to seal the pact.

  ‘Deal,’ Leila agreed softly.

  ‘And now I’m going to tell you some things about Rafael that he would never tell you himself. I didn’t tell you before because I’ve always kept my grandson’s confidence, but I can’t sit back and watch Rafael destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to him—that’s you and your baby, in case you’re in any doubt, Leila.’

  Deep down, Leila supposed she had always known that this particular old lady never did anything by chance, and the flight to London was the perfect opportunity for them to have a one-to-one.

  ‘Rafael reminds me of his grandfather so much. Although—’ The dowager made a whimsical gesture with her hands. ‘Rafael has his reasons for being the way he is, while my husband had no excuse.’

  ‘But you loved him?’

  ‘I adored him,’ Raffa’s grandmother corrected her. ‘Who wants a weak man? Not me. You were crying because of Rafael when we took off, and not some fear of flying.’

  ‘I was very sad to leave the island,’ Leila confessed guardedly.

  ‘And that’s not all,’ the dowager said briskly. ‘I don’t think you’re frightened of anything except your own heart, Leila Skavanga. You’re certainly not frightened of flying, though you’ve got every reason to be after your parents’ accident.’

  ‘Strangely it’s never affected me that way.’

  ‘Because the crash was no accident?’ the dowager suggested when Leila hesitated. ‘The press suggested your father was drunk at the controls.’

  The dowager’s frankness was refreshing and it tempted Leila to unburden thoughts that had plagued her for years. ‘Or maybe my mother seized control because she’d had enough.’

  ‘And sent them both plummeting to their deaths.’

  ‘Being controlled isn’t pretty,’ Leila agreed.

  ‘But you would never allow yourself to be controlled by anyone. And if I tell you that Rafael’s mother died giving birth to him, then perhaps you can understand his fears for you a little better.’

  Oh, no. Oh, no. Oh, no.

  ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘And Rafael wouldn’t want you to know. He wouldn’t want to frighten you, so he would never tell you, which is why I wanted this opportunity to have you to myself. Your safety is driving him crazy, Leila. That’s why Rafael feels he must control every aspect of this baby’s birth.’

  * * *

  He found the note right away. Leila had left it on his pillow. He ground his jaw and seriously considered tearing it up. What could it tell him that he didn’t already know? Leaning back against the wall, he opened the envelope. There was one sheet of paper inside. The short note might as well have begun ‘Dear John’.

  It was a polite, emotion-free deed of separation. It was a reasonable and considered application to remain friends. It was an offer of complete access to his child at any time of his choosing—providing that access took place in Skavanga. Leila didn’t want anything from him—no child support, no help with housing, no money, nothing. Though she promised to keep him in the loop—so kind of her. Thanks to him and his excellent introduction to the diamond industry, she intended to pursue her studies and take a Masters degree in Gemology—in Skavanga, of course. It was at that point he ripped the note to shreds and tossed it in the bin. Leila had rocked his world with her abrupt departure. If it hadn’t been for the baby—

  He would never see her again?

  But there was a baby, and that baby had to be born and he had to know Leila would come through that birth safely. It wasn’t enough for him to write the cheques and pull the strings. He had to know. This was as much a part of his nature as stubbornness was part of Leila’s character. He had to see for himself that she survived the birth, for as much as he resented the way Leila had cut herself free he would happily die rather than harm her in any way.

  * * *

  The dowager had fallen asleep, leaving Leila to mull over her incredible revelation. Knowing Raffa’s mother had died in childbirth explained so much about him. Now she knew why he wanted to control the birth of their child. It wasn’t to exert his authority over her, as she had supposed, but simply to keep her safe.

  And what had she done?

  She had cut all ties with him, leaving no loose ends. There was no way back. She had always believed a clean break was for the best, having been used to radical change in her life from a very young age. But had she tried to get to know him—really tried? She felt like curling into a cringing ball at the thought of how selfish she’d been.

  ‘Have you, dear?’

  Leila blinked, realising she must have spoken out loud. ‘I’m afraid I’ve only been thinking about myself.’

  ‘I’ve been saying the same thing to Rafael for years,’ his grandmother remarked. ‘If you ask me, it’s time both of you took your blinkers off.’

  * * *

  It seemed so long since she had left the island, and her personal world had been spinning in the wrong direction ever since. Wrong, because it never brought her any closer to Raffa. As far as her work was concerned, it couldn’t have been better. Preparing the site for the exhibition was going well, but there hadn’t been a word from Raffa, who had thrown all his considerable resources behind Leila to make sure she had all the help she could possibly need for her work from his team. And why should there be any word from Raffa, when she had made it quite clear in her letter to him that it was over between them for good?

  But now she’d had her scan she had to talk to him as a matter of urgency. She’d had some really big news. She’d tried all the various numbers she had been given for him, including his PA, who was cagey about Raffa’s whereabouts, and even his grandmother. Sharif and Roman might have been able to tell her, but she didn’t want to get into the inevitable conversation with them, and so she called Britt.

  ‘Who knows?’ Britt said, yawning as if she had just woken up. ‘We haven’t heard from him.’

  Leila could hear Sharif murmuring in the background and realised they must be in bed together. She couldn’t get off the phone fast enough. She thought about ringing Eva, but didn’t want to be subjected to the third degree.

  What did Leila know about Raffa Leon? She didn’t even know where he was, or how to contact him. How she longed to be in his arms now, confiding in him, but she’d made too good a job of driving him away.

  ‘The babies are doing fine, thank you,’ she informed the empty air. ‘Our twins are doing fine, Raffa.’

  * * *

  To hell with control! To hell with all Leila’s protestations that she was fine and could live without him, and her sisters’ insistence that Leila needed space. He’d given her long enough and the birth of their child was imminent. He’d kept a watching brief on her from a distance. She attended check-ups regularly. She ate sensibly, worked reasonable hours and got plenty of rest. She was the model of a modern working mother-to-be. He should be satisfied with that, but he wasn’t about to leave her to go through the birth alone.

  ‘You’re clear to go, Romeo-Lima-two-five-eight—’

  ‘Roger, Control.’ Opening the throttle on the twin engines, he released the brakes.

  For a time he was content to let his spirit soar with the jet. Every second took him closer to Leila and the answers he could only find when they were together. She’d got under his skin. Leila Skavanga had invaded every part of him. Life was vivid Technicolor with her. Without her it was a dull, stormy grey. Levelling off, he handed over the controls to his co-pilot.

  ‘
Coffee, Tyr?’

  ‘No milk,’ the powerfully built Viking reminded him.

  Removing his headphones, he left the cockpit. Both he and Leila had secrets. His was possibly the hardest to keep. Leila’s brother was back in her life. She just didn’t know it yet, but it wasn’t up to him to break the news. Tyr would let his sisters know he was back when he was ready.

  The flight attendants jumped to attention as Raffa walked into the galley.

  ‘I’ll sort myself out,’ he told them as politely as he could and they quickly made themselves scarce. It was a rare beast that challenged him when he was in this mood. Leila would challenge him, but Leila wasn’t frightened of anyone.

  He went through the mechanics of assembling two strong cups of coffee. Why the hell did he miss her so much? It wasn’t as if Leila was easy. She was quiet but she challenged him constantly, and was possibly the strongest woman he had ever known.

  And now it was coming up to Christmas and she shouldn’t be on her own. Her sisters and their husbands were away for the holidays, and he couldn’t bear to think of Leila alone.

  With a shrug and a smile he reached for the satellite phone.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  SHE WAS STILL working and intended to carry on until the museum closed its doors on Christmas Eve. She’d be back in the new year if she hadn’t given birth by then.

  She was all organised. The cards were written, the presents were wrapped, the fire was lit and the house was glowing. Christmas was going to be great. She was going to decorate the nursery over the holidays, and finish the baby shawl she had painstakingly knitted, unpicked and knitted again, until she got it—well, almost right. She had baked too, taking round little pies and cakes as gifts to her neighbours, so the house smelled great. The baby stuff was piled in a corner waiting to be set out in the nursery—the best part—the reward for all her labours. She only had a short time to go now. The doctor had said she might deliver early, as it was twins.

  There was only one thing missing from her Christmas preparations, Leila reflected as she sat on the rug, hugging her knees in front of the fire, and that was this man... Picking up the newspaper, she stared at the ridiculously handsome face before reading the banner headline. Bite-sized pieces of the text jumped out at her: Don Rafael Leon... Famous Spanish billionaire... Strikes gold again... Battles a sandstorm in Kareshi... Risking his life—

  Her heart stopped. Clenching the newspaper, she wished Raffa would stop risking his life. Why did he have to do that? Why couldn’t he slow down for once?

  Why couldn’t he be here?

  Why hadn’t she heard from him? Rubbing her face on her hands, she thought back to how determined she’d been to handle this birth alone, and how reluctantly Raffa had granted her wish. Now she understood why he was so concerned and why he had his people watching out for her—her own doctor had told her about the regular calls from Raffa’s doctor, taking the opportunity to reassure Leila that professional confidence between doctor and patient extended to everyone, even other doctors. Her doctor had even taken calls from Raffa, though he never left a number, but why would he, when Leila had told him in that letter not to get in touch?

  That wretched letter! Why had she left it for him in the first place? To be fair? To be fair to Raffa? Sanctimonious twaddle! What was that about? What had she been thinking? Hormones had been thinking for her, obviously. Why couldn’t he be here? Where was he? Was he even safe? Why did two of the best men in her life have to disappear? Was she jinxed?

  She wanted to tell him she understood everything now. She wanted to hold him and be strong for him. Pressing her head into her knees, she fought back tears, knowing she had to be strong for their babies. Lifting her chin, she straightened out the newspaper and read on: Raffa Leon, bringing back more fabulous gems to be set with the now famous Skavanga Diamonds.

  Raffa and his colleagues in the consortium had made Skavanga a household name. When she’d been on the island with him and had asked the secret of his success, he’d said good product and publicity, along with a unique selling point, adding that, yes, there were fabulous gems on show in his underground vaults, but his most valuable stock was kept in an underground cave guarded by gryphons and dragons...

  The tears were back when she remembered how they’d laughed. They’d been in bed at the time—

  No. Bed. Thoughts.

  Not now. Not ever. Finished. Done with. Bed thoughts—specifically sex thoughts of any kind, especially those involving intimate moments between them—were absolutely forbidden. Raffa’s humour and his tender asides—those were forbidden too. She had to stop thinking about him, or she’d never ease this ache inside her.

  So, what was he doing for Christmas?

  Leila stared round her cosy home. Would he be somewhere nice like this, or in some sterile hotel? With the glow of the fire, and the red ribbons and candles she had brought down from the box in the eaves, it looked so warm and welcoming. There was just one thing missing...

  Oh, if this wasn’t the biggest pity party of all time. She’d be dressing up in a red robe, sticking cotton wool to her cheeks and giving herself gifts out of a trash sack in a minute. She was well organised, with plenty of food. She was safe and warm. What more did she want?

  Don’t even think the name.

  That lasted all of five seconds.

  She’d posted Raffa’s card early, along with a special card for his abuelita. She had kept Raffa’s card carefully neutral. ‘Wishing you a wonderful Christmas and the very best New Year ever. Leila x’

  That wasn’t thinking his name. That was running a mental checklist to make sure she hadn’t left anyone off her list. She’d sent Raffa the type of card she would send to a close friend—a friend close enough not to need an update on her status, because he already knew enough about her life, and yet distant enough to suggest she was back in harness in her old life, and quite happily getting on with it.

  Except for the yawning great crater in her chest where her heart used to be.

  She wasn’t going to think like that...

  Was the house always this quiet?

  She looked at her phone and then remembered she’d turned it off. Her sisters were driving her mad by email, saying it was too close to the birth of the baby and she should turn her phone on. But she didn’t want to speak to anyone—unless that someone was Raffa. And as he wasn’t about to call...

  * * *

  Glancing out of the window at the fat flakes of snow tumbling down, she smiled wistfully at the thought of Raffa becoming a local hero. He’d certainly helped to put Skavanga on the map again. The Skavanga Diamond brand was already famous across the world, and the people of Skavanga loved him for it.

  The town had been failing for so long, with Britt battling tirelessly to keep everything afloat, and then the consortium came along, and now it was like Christmas every day. They’d all worked hard to make Skavanga a success. There was a café at the museum now, as well as a playground for the children, and film installations showing diamonds in production from rocks to sparkling gems...

  Ho hum...

  The fire crackled, the snow pattered lightly against the window. Now what should she do?

  Oh, come on! She’d eaten supper. It was almost bedtime. Wasn’t this the time she looked forward to the most? Not just for sleep and oblivion, and a chance to dream, but to get out her small hoard of baby stuff...to touch it, to fold it, to hold it to her face...

  She could spend some time thinking about the twins before she went to bed. What could be better than that?

  The twins Raffa didn’t know about yet.

  Hugging her enormous belly, Leila bit her lip anxiously. Why couldn’t anyone tell her where Raffa was? He had to be the most elusive man on the planet. Should she leave him to enjoy the festivities in peace? Or should she keep trying those numbers Britt h
ad told her to try? She didn’t want to bother her sisters again so close to Christmas. She looked at her phone. Small. Silent. Off. Described it to a tee.

  But there was nothing to stop her trying those numbers one more time. If Raffa was busy at least he’d know she’d been trying to get hold of him. Picking the phone up, she stared at it for a few tense seconds, and then, closing her eyes, she held down the button to turn it on—

  And jumped when it rang immediately.

  ‘Leila? Is that you?’

  Raffa!

  ‘Where the hell have you been, Leila?’

  ‘Ha...aa...’

  ‘Is that any type of answer?’

  Paralysed with surprise, she could hardly speak. Hearing Raffa’s voice had shocked her rigid. Hugging the phone so close to her face it must have left an imprint in her skin, she drank in the sound of his voice. He could have said anything— He could have ordered pizza and she would still have tears running down her face. Just to hear him... Just to know he was safe.

  She had to pull the phone away from her ear for a moment to draw a deep, shuddering breath and compose herself, before she could manage a steady, ‘Hello, Raffa... What a surprise...’

  ‘If you say it’s nice to hear from me, I’ll find you and spank you, pregnant or not. Why have you had your phone turned off?’

  ‘Erm...I couldn’t sleep. So I turned it off and forgot to turn it on again.’

  ‘I saw all your calls listed and was worried to death. I’ve been trying to call you non-stop.’

  ‘Sorry...’ She caressed the phone. He’d been trying to call her. Lovely phone. She’d never turn it off again. Ever.

  ‘I spoke to your sisters, and all they’d say was you’d gone to ground, and that maybe you needed some space. The way they said it made it sound like space from me, so...’

  ‘So you were speaking to Eva, I’m guessing,’ Leila supplied as her head began to clear.

  ‘Maybe,’ Raffa agreed wryly.

  He didn’t want to get her sister into trouble. That was nice.