Valdez's Bartered Bride

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Valdez's Bartered Bride Page 9

by Rachael Thomas


  ‘A very convincing act, querida.’ His voice was deep and so very sexy that she couldn’t break that eye contact even though she wanted to. ‘Now it must be continued as we greet our hosts.’

  Raul guided her through the glamorous guests and she was aware of the curious glances cast their way. Either Raul was such a playboy that nobody expected him to settle to marriage or she was very different from the kind of woman he usually had at his side. Whatever it was, she was far from comfortable.

  She put on a smile as he introduced her in Spanish to a couple whose love for one another was more than obvious. The tall and elegant woman, named Estela, smiled at her and spoke in Spanish.

  ‘She said you are very beautiful, an English rose.’ Raul’s voice broke through her thoughts, sounding so very different from the harshness he usually adopted. All part of the show, she reminded herself.

  Lydia looked at the woman and replied in Spanish, ‘Thank you and congratulations.’

  ‘Your Spanish is excellent,’ Estela replied with a smile and a quick glance at Raul, as if she knew what Lydia was doing.

  Beside her she could feel the shockwaves coming off Raul. That dinner party, when he’d made her feel so low, so useless, was now being paid back. He said nothing and when she turned to smile at him she knew he was furious.

  ‘You make a very handsome couple,’ Estela’s husband added, defusing the charged atmosphere slightly as he put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and pulled her close. ‘Your father knew what he was doing, Raul.’

  Lydia’s gaze held Raul’s, but he was stoically calm, not a trace of emotion of any kind. Just how much did the board know of their arrangement? And if they knew it all, why was there any need to act the part of lovers?

  As if sensing her annoyance and her questions, Raul called over a passing waiter and handed a flute of champagne to her, then his hosts and finally took one himself.

  ‘A toast,’ he said in Spanish. ‘To love. Long may it last.’

  Lydia raised her glass towards the couple and joined in the toast, then took a sip of the sparkling liquid, but nearly choked on the bubbles as Raul added one more toast.

  ‘And to the English rose who will very soon be my wife.’ He looked at her and the sexy rise of his brows threw a challenge at her, daring her to disagree.

  Estela spoke again, her excitement clear. ‘I’m looking forward to your wedding, to seeing two people so right for each other joined in marriage.’

  Two people so right for each other? Was that really how they looked? How could that be when there were so many secrets between them? So much anger?

  * * *

  Raul was furious. Lydia spoke Spanish—fluently? She’d been living with him for over two weeks and had not uttered a word in his language. What else was she hiding? Her ability to act a part was as good as her ability to conceal the truth.

  For the last hour Raul had enjoyed having Lydia close at his side as she portrayed a woman happily engaged to him, leaving nobody in any doubt that, whilst their marriage was one that began in the boardroom of Banco de Torrez, it would definitely be continued in the bedroom.

  It went against everything he believed in to admit it, but it had also stirred something within him, something deeper than merely lust or desire for a beautiful woman. It was as if they were drawn together by a connection as yet undiscovered—or was he being irrational, wanting things his childhood had shown to be impossible?

  He watched her laugh with other guests, standing back to admire the sexy dress that clung like a sparkling waterfall to her body, making him want to stand beneath the cool water until he drowned. She looked amazing and there wasn’t a man in the room who hadn’t drunk in her beauty tonight. Her back was slightly turned to him and the daring backless dress gave him a view of soft creamy skin that he wanted to kiss and taste. Hell, he wanted a lot more than just to kiss her.

  ‘When were you going to tell me you spoke Spanish?’ he demanded as she turned to him, his annoyance at what she did to him increasing.

  ‘You didn’t ask,’ she replied, reverting to English with a smile.

  ‘Come.’ The word snapped from him as he avoided being drawn in by her and dragged his thoughts back on track and away from what he would do to her if they were alone. From the way her eyes widened in surprise he had startled her with the ferocity of that one word. ‘We will dance, show the cream of Madrid’s society that we are uniting in marriage for more than financial gain.’

  ‘Lie to them, you mean.’ Her words were soft, her delicate accent sweet and her smile seductive, but the spark of anger in her eyes belied all she was trying to portray.

  ‘I want to show them that we are attracted to one another. I do not think that is a lie, querida.’ He couldn’t resist taunting her with that word.

  As Raul put his arms around Lydia, pulling her close against his body, a jolt of sizzling awareness sparked through him. Just what was it about this woman that made him react so acutely to her?

  Her perfume invaded his senses, the sweet floral fragrance a stark contrast to the untouchable image she created in her clinging silk gown.

  ‘What was it you wanted to tell me earlier? What other secrets have you kept from me?’ He recalled her insistence at telling him something and now he was so pleased he’d waited. Whatever it was it would give him something to think of instead of focusing on the way the curves of her body moved against his as they danced. It was exquisite and torturous at the same time. Every move she made increased his awareness of her. Soon he wouldn’t be able to ignore it, wouldn’t be able to use conversation to hide what he truly wanted—Lydia.

  ‘I don’t think now is the time—or place.’ Her eyes, so very green, met his, but he could clearly see her anxiety within them. What was she keeping from him? A trickle of icy unease slipped down his spine.

  ‘I disagree, querida.’

  She moved against him, chasing away that unease, and if his voice held a note of wavering control, it was much more to do with the woman in his arms than the words she spoke.

  She tensed, her gaze firmly fixed on his, the spark of defiance stirring within those green depths. ‘Not here, not like this.’

  ‘Like what? Like lovers?’ He knew without a doubt that she was fighting the same attraction that was hurtling through him, roughly snuffing out the unease that had dared to surface. Right at this moment, as they stood there among the party guests, the outcome of the evening was almost inevitable, but he couldn’t let desire cloud his mind, distract him from what he must do.

  ‘I need to talk to you.’

  ‘Only talk?’ he teased, enjoying the blush that swept over her face and the way she continued to dance, as if to mask the growing and very insistent attraction. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  She frowned, with confusion or annoyance, he wasn’t sure. ‘I need to talk to you about your brother.’

  His brother? Now she had his attention. ‘Then talk.’

  ‘As you wish.’ She’d adopted that sexy, haughty voice that seemed to beg him to take her in his arms and kiss her, but her chosen topic halted such thoughts—for now.

  ‘Tell me.’

  ‘When we saw your mother, she gave me an envelope as we left.’

  Finally, she was going to tell him what that exchange with his mother had been all about. He’d known something had been said, known she was keeping something from him, but he’d blanked it all out, unwilling to deal with the truth, not because he wanted to go ahead with the marriage, but because he wasn’t ready to look the past in the eye. Now he couldn’t put it off any longer.

  ‘And?’

  ‘And it contained the information I needed to find your brother. Reports from a private investigator she’d hired.’

  ‘She knew all along?’ Raul couldn’t hold back the shock from his voice.

  ‘Yes, which means your worry of hurting her is unfounded. She was trying to protect you.’

  ‘And have you found him?’

  This was what he�
��d hoped for ever since he’d embarked on the bizarre deal with the delectable Miss Carter-Wilson. It also meant that contract would very soon be ended—as would the need to keep her close. But the past was bearing down on him.

  Lydia looked at him and he sensed she was holding something back. Eventually she spoke. ‘I have, yes.’

  ‘And he is here in Madrid?’

  ‘I believe he is living in London at the moment.’

  ‘Then we shall go to London.’

  ‘No. You will go to London. There is no need for me to be part of this any more.’ She looked at him, her green eyes wide and round with shock.

  ‘Sí, querida. Our deal will not be complete until I have met my brother.’

  The spark of fury burned in her eyes and those so very kissable lips became a firm angry line.

  ‘That’s not very fair. To change the terms of our agreement like that, Raul.’

  ‘Our agreement is to find my brother or get married. Only seeing through one of those options will unlock the funds to clear your father’s debt. This is, after all, what it’s all about. Your father’s debt.’

  ‘You really are quite mercenary, aren’t you?’

  ‘Are you only just realising this?’ He couldn’t keep the amusement from his voice. Her directness was refreshing. Nobody had ever dared to tell him that.

  ‘Unfortunately, yes, and that’s a mistake I will now pay for.’

  ‘We will fly to London together and once I have met my brother your part of the deal will be honoured and your father’s debts will be cleared.’

  ‘And if your brother has no wish to meet you, to be part of the family business?’

  Right now this all seemed too real and Raul couldn’t think past the fact that Max had been found.

  ‘Then your father’s debts will be called in immediately and at the moment I only know of one other way for you to clear them.’

  * * *

  Lydia glared angrily at him. How could she have felt sorry for him? She’d let her guard down, allowed his charm to defuse her anger and hostility.

  ‘Do you know anything about your brother?’ She needed to gain the upper hand, to control the way this was going.

  ‘Only that he shares my father’s name.’ Raul glowered at her. Had she touched a raw nerve? What would he say when she told him all she’d discovered? And more to the point, how did she tell him?

  ‘But he had not used his surname.’

  ‘So, he has shunned the Valdez name.’ Raul’s voice sounded firm and full of irritation. ‘When exactly was my baby brother born?’

  ‘He isn’t your baby brother, Raul.’ All the sympathy she’d felt for him as she’d read the contents of the envelope rushed back at her and she looked into his handsome face, watching the colour drain away beneath the olive tones of his skin.

  Raul merely looked at her, the shock on his face clear.

  ‘He is older than you, Raul.’ She could still feel the pain his mother must have felt, the hard underlining in black pen of Max’s birth date giving away so much. ‘That is probably why your father set this whole thing up. To ensure you find his heir.’

  ‘How much older?’ Shock echoed in Raul’s voice.

  ‘Four months.’

  She had been so stunned by it all, by the revelations that Raul maybe wasn’t the heir to his father’s fortune, she hadn’t been able to tell him. She’d spent the last few days checking it all out and now she knew for sure that footballer legend turned entrepreneur after a bad car accident, Maximiliano Martinez, was his brother. Two powerful and wealthy men. It was going to be some showdown when they met.

  Raul pulled her closer and she gasped, the sudden movement in complete contrast to the anger shining brightly in his eyes, but she moulded herself against him, the attraction she felt too strong to ignore, as was the need to salve his obvious pain.

  ‘What are you doing?’ The words flew spontaneously from her when his hand pressed against her lower back, forcing her so close it was almost intimate—too intimate.

  ‘Dancing with you.’

  She wanted that more than anything else right now, but deep down she didn’t trust herself. The intimate way he held her, the deep, desire-filled look in his eyes lured her and she couldn’t allow it to happen even though she wanted it—wanted him.

  He lowered his head and whispered in her ear. ‘Carlos is watching us closely. I want him to see desire, show them that the deal our fathers struck has not defeated me—or you.’

  She looked up at him as her heart thudded. ‘Desire?’ The word was barely audible as his face came so close to hers that it would be easy to tilt her chin up and kiss him. Just as she had done once before.

  ‘Yes, Lydia, desire. Can you do that? Then we can leave, get away from all this deceit.’

  ‘What about your plans to show we are happily engaged?’ Her words were a husky whisper and, despite all her reservations, she knew the same desire that had taken over that night in the rain was pushing her on now, turning her into a different woman.

  ‘Right now I want them to think we are so consumed by one another that we have to leave.’

  Her heart went out to him. He needed to leave in order to deal with all she’d just told him. How did it feel to discover you were not your father’s firstborn as you’d always believed? No wonder his father had attached such a bizarre condition to the will. He wanted his firstborn to inherit equally and had done everything in his power to ensure it happened.

  Consumed by desire and sympathy, she reached up, placed her palm against his face, feeling the new growth of stubble. Her gaze became riveted to his, seeing the passion building with them. Compassion fused with passion and her attention moved to his lips, remembering the electric kiss in the rain. Had it been the sudden downpour that had made that kiss so intense, so memorable? Or the man himself?

  As the questions raced through her mind and the desire to lean closer grew ever stronger, she tried to fight it. Raul didn’t. With a fierce intensity his lips claimed hers, sending her mind reeling and her heart thumping and the power of that contact shot through her entire body, unlocking an unbearable need deep within her.

  Silently she gave thanks that they were in the middle of a dance floor, that all around them people could surely see the fire that had sparked to life. But she wanted more and to her horror she wished they weren’t at the party, wished that they were alone and able to follow the heady trail of passion to its ultimate conclusion.

  Raul pulled back from her, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them. ‘I’m taking you home. Right now—and then I’m going to make love to you.’

  No. That was the word she wanted to say, the word she should say, but for a moment it wouldn’t come and when it did it was a breathy whisper. ‘No, we can’t. That’s not part of the deal.’

  ‘To hell with the deal.’

  ‘Raul,’ she pleaded even though inside her body clamoured with excitement and need for this man.

  He brushed his lips so lightly over hers she almost sighed with pleasure. ‘Tonight you will be mine, Lydia.’

  She had to remember what this was all about, but did the deal really matter any more? Hadn’t she done her part? She’d found his brother, her dues were paid, her father’s debt now clear. So where did that leave her now?

  Could she walk away from this moment, this man? He’d got to her, entered her mind, her thoughts, her very soul and, even though she knew she shouldn’t, she wanted him, wanted to be his, to feel the passion and desire so completely.

  Her heart was leading her head, her desire for him all-consuming. ‘Take me home, Raul.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  LYDIA’S HEART THUMPED and her body hummed with anticipation as Raul’s car stopped outside his apartment. There was no mistaking the intent in Raul’s eyes, just as she couldn’t deny the need within her. A need that had boiled up rapidly, blending together with the shock that she’d been so bold, creating an intoxicating cocktail that couldn’t be denied—by either
of them. It was strong and powerful. The kind of attraction that, if she was honest, had sealed her fate the day they had first met.

  His eyes said all that needed to be said as he got out of the car, took her hand and she stepped out into the crisp evening air. In one hungry sweep his gaze devoured her, ratcheting up the tension, the anticipation, smothering the nerves and apprehension over what she was about to do, making her want him, want this night more than ever.

  He still held her hand, the heat of his touch scorching her, and without a word he led her into the building, calling the elevator. Was he still angry at what she’d told him about Max? Or was it her use of Spanish? Had he put everything but what they were about to do from his mind? Was he so focused on desire that he thought of nothing else? Could she really affect him like that?

  ‘Raul?’ His name slipped out as a question, her eyes searching his firmly set profile as the elevator took them up to his apartment. The tension in the confines of the mirrored walls all but exploded as his gaze met hers, the unconcealed desire in his eyes echoing around her from the reflective surfaces.

  Hungry need met innocent desire, becoming something else, something she couldn’t deny even if she wanted to. There would be no turning back now. This strong, powerful man was what she needed, even if it was for one night only.

  ‘You have found Max so are no longer bound by our agreement.’ The sharpness of his words was in total contrast to the desire burning in his eyes, making the dark depths unreadable.

  ‘I’m not?’

  ‘You have done what you promised, Lydia. You are free to go back to London.’ There was a hint of warning in his voice, warning she had no intention of heeding.

  ‘And if I don’t want to?’ Her heart went into free fall at her boldness, the likes of which she’d never known before. How could one man change her so much? ‘Not yet anyway.’

  She couldn’t believe how shameless she sounded and knew it came from something much deeper than just passion. All she wanted now was to stay, to discover more with this man even though she’d constantly fought him and the attraction that had leapt to life between them. But why, when such an action went against everything she believed in? When he’d been the man who’d humiliated her as a sixteen-year-old?

 

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