Valdez's Bartered Bride

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Valdez's Bartered Bride Page 12

by Rachael Thomas


  He would never be that weak. He would never open himself up to such pain.

  ‘The park is beautiful at this time of the year, is it not?’ He diverted his thoughts and the topic of conversation onto more neutral territory.

  ‘It is, even when it is so cold.’ She snuggled against him. Was she cold or getting too comfortable? ‘It’s lovely, thanks.’

  ‘A nice way to end our weekend, no?’ He felt her glance up at him, but he kept his attention firmly ahead. Was it possible she was reading more into this moment?

  ‘Yes,’ she said and walked on, looking anywhere but at him, convincing him he must have been mistaken. At least she agreed and there wouldn’t be any drama when they returned to their lives. This would be just a weekend affair.

  * * *

  Lydia breathed in the cold air, relishing the gentle breeze on her face as she walked, her arm linked in Raul’s, through Retiro Park. The soft luxury of his camel cashmere coat was warm and inviting, but not nearly as much as Raul. The wind was cold, but it focused her thoughts, stopped her from believing this affair would ever be anything more than just a weekend. One that was almost over. It had been a magical interlude, which had shown her what loving a man could be like, even though she knew this man would never allow anyone close enough to love him or to love himself.

  ‘We will go to London tomorrow.’ As if he’d sensed her thoughts, taken lead from them, Raul said the words that spelt the end of whatever it was that had happened between them since the night of the party.

  ‘So this is goodbye?’ She kept walking, looking ahead of her down the long tree-lined path, noticing the red squirrels that cheekily followed them from tree to tree in the hope of treats. Normally she would have remarked upon it, taken pleasure in such a moment, but not today—not now. She wanted to be as detached as he was, her words as emotionless and empty and, whilst she was happy that she’d achieved that, inside she was breaking apart.

  ‘Sí, querida.’ His Spanish accent was deeper than ever and the use of the now all too familiar term of endearment no longer irritated. She glanced up at him, his profile strong and unyielding. ‘It is time to return to our lives.’

  She should be elated. Her father’s debts were to be cleared without the need to enter into a marriage more in keeping with the kind of historical novels she’d loved as a teenager. Tomorrow she would return to London and she and Raul would never have to see one another again. So why did that feel so difficult? As foolish as it was, she had fallen in love with a man who was as cold and incapable of love as his father had evidently been.

  ‘I will of course require written proof that my father’s debts are settled. I don’t want to be hounded again.’ The pain of her realisation made her lash out, made her want to hurt him too. But could you ever hurt a man so incapable of emotions?

  ‘Hounded?’ He pulled her to a halt and looked down at her, the spark of anger once again in his eyes. Inwardly she sighed. It seemed she brought out the worst in this man.

  She lifted her chin defiantly; the barrier she usually hid behind, the one she had lowered over the last few days, slid perfectly back into place. He would never know her true feelings for him. Never. ‘Yes, hounded.’

  He narrowed his eyes, their dark depths searching her face. ‘In that case, after tomorrow’s meeting with my brother, you will be pleased to know I will have no further cause to hound you, as you so nicely put it. Our engagement will be over.’

  ‘Then you should have this back.’ She pulled her arm free of his, the comfortable companionship of moments ago gone for good. It was for the best and, trying to push down the pain, she slid the engagement ring from her finger. ‘I have no need of it any longer.’

  The expression on his face held a hint of that amusement she found so annoying but, even so, a twinge of regret raced through her. The last few days had been so different, the pressure to be anything but herself had disappeared and she’d felt more comfortable with him than she had with anyone. The thought of giving it up saddened her. Was what they’d shared over the last few days what being in a real relationship felt like? Was that the closest she would ever come to knowing love?

  ‘And I do?’ The imperious question held such command that the birds in the trees above them seemed to stop singing, as if waiting to see what would happen next.

  ‘Next time you need a convenient fiancée you will have the ring ready and at your disposal.’ All the hurt she’d felt echoed in her words, despite her trying to keep it in.

  His eyes darkened with anger and with a satisfied smile she turned and began to walk once more. It took seconds for him to join her.

  ‘I had thought you were different.’

  ‘From what?’ She kept her voice light and flirtatious, determined he shouldn’t guess at the hurt that was lancing through her, the broken and unattainable dreams this weekend had brought to light.

  ‘From the spoilt little rich girl I first met at the dinner party. From the demanding woman who’d waited for me in the restaurant three weeks ago.’ The silky softness of his voice almost disguised the underlying disgust at just who he thought she really was.

  ‘Maybe that was part of the act.’ She didn’t look at him. She didn’t dare. She focused on the long path ahead of them, trying instead to wonder what the other people walking in the park were doing. Wondering if they were happy and in love as she’d almost begun to believe she might be. What a fool she’d been.

  The night of the dinner party, when she’d first met Raul, she’d acted to a role she’d thought her father had wanted her to play. It had been one last futile attempt at bridging the ever growing gap between her and her father. It had also been what had made Raul look at her with distaste. From that moment onwards, she’d done as her grandmother had always advised and been herself.

  ‘You have acted your part of loving fiancée very well, querida. I for one was convinced.’ This time, a steely undertone reverberated in every word, but still she walked, not daring to look up at him and certainly not daring to stop, to have those dark eyes fix on hers and see the truth of her feelings for him.

  ‘It was what was expected, was it not, in order to convince the board that we were prepared to marry?’ She quickened her step. Maybe if they left the park they could leave this topic behind.

  ‘Then I applaud you. You even fooled me, especially when you were in my bed.’

  She stopped and whirled round to face him. Didn’t he have any idea that these last few days had not been about the deal? They had been about letting go, being herself—being with him, the man she’d fallen ever harder for. How dared he bring that up, make it sound as if she’d bartered with herself, sold her body, just to clear her father’s debts?

  ‘At least you cannot deny I have kept my part of the deal.’ The angry words flew at him but to her utter annoyance her response amused him, serving only to make her even angrier.

  * * *

  Raul smiled as the glitter of anger sparkled in her eyes, far more dazzling than the ring she’d just given back to him. With the afternoon sun shining through the bare branches of the trees above them and then dancing in her hair, she looked so very beautiful. Once again, that need to have more, to find more with this woman, surged forwards. He savagely pushed it down, hid it behind a sharp retort.

  ‘No, I cannot,’ he said curtly. ‘Even when we were alone you maintained the act of attraction, carried it through to a most satisfying conclusion.’

  She paled and a spike of guilt lanced at him. This was the one and only woman he’d wanted to get close to, get to know better, and yet he was emotionally pushing her away, wounding her with his words. It just proved he wasn’t a man who should settle down, who should be given the responsibility of someone’s heart, someone’s deepest emotions. Whether he liked it or not, he was far too much like his father.

  ‘I despise you, Raul—for everything you have done.’ She pulled herself free of his hold and began to march away.

  ‘Where are you going, Lydia?’<
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  He watched the sway of her hips in the white jeans that hugged her legs allowing him to see and appreciate her. It also reminded him how it felt to have them wrapped around his body as he’d made her his—even if it was only for the weekend.

  She turned and faced him once more, her pretty face set in the firm grip of anger. ‘Nothing would induce me to stay a moment longer in your company, Raul. I’m going back to London—today.’

  For the briefest of seconds, he floundered, then control and coldness returned. ‘You agreed we would return together.’

  ‘I have things to attend to, Raul.’ The ice in her voice chilled him far more than the winter wind that had begun to sweep through the park.

  ‘What things?’

  ‘I have dress selections to make.’

  ‘Ah, but of course, the busy life of a socialite—shopping is your prime concern.’ He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice as he walked towards her, closing the distance once again. Her green eyes glittered watchfully as he moved closer still. If he reached out now he could stroke the soft skin of her face, slide his finger beneath her chin, lifting it up, and then he would be able to kiss her.

  ‘That just proves you don’t know me at all.’ Her angry words halted the desire-driven thoughts of kissing her once more.

  ‘So, what is it you have hidden from me?’ Suspicion slipped over him and he narrowed his eyes as she continued to glare challengingly up at him. ‘Are you still the spoilt girl I first met, concerned only with parties and shopping?’

  ‘I was almost seventeen, Raul. It’s what teenagers do. Yes, I party sometimes, I’m also often out in London, but it is business, Raul. You of all people should know that necessity.’ A hint of satisfaction spread over her face, forcing her lips to stretch into a smile.

  ‘And what business would this be?’ Now he was intrigued. He’d always thought there was more to Lydia Carter-Wilson than she allowed people to see, but why had she hidden it from him?

  ‘I have several successful ladies’ fashion boutiques, one in London and one in Paris. I had thought to open one here in Madrid. I even made a useful contact whilst shopping for the silver dress I wore to the party.’

  He couldn’t say anything; his mind had instantly gone back to Friday evening, to dancing so very close with her and then taking her home, where he’d removed the dress.

  Lydia continued her self-satisfied attack as he struggled momentarily against the memory of that night. ‘But that would mean running the risk of seeing you again, so I will forget that idea.’

  ‘And why did you keep this from me as well as your ability to speak my language?’ Finally, he pushed the erotic memory to one side.

  ‘The truth?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You hated me when we first met and it made me think my grandmother’s advice was right—to just be myself.’

  His mind raced back to that moment at the dinner party when they’d first met. The way she’d made him feel, the effect her smile had had on him had shocked him and he’d covered it all up with a brusque uninterested manner.

  ‘So you learnt Spanish and formed a business because of that night?’ Guilt rushed at him.

  ‘I have worked hard to prove myself, to be my own person, and I was not about to allow my father, or you, to take that from me. As far as I was concerned his debts would be paid by the properties he’d hidden in my name and not my business. Of course now I know it would never have been enough.’

  ‘And what if marriage had become necessary? What if you hadn’t located my brother?’

  ‘Then I would have married you, if it meant saving the one thing I’d worked hard for. My life. My independence.’

  ‘So was this weekend a practice for the honeymoon?’

  Fury leapt to her eyes; the smile that had lingered seductively on her lips disappeared. ‘This weekend was a mistake. A very big mistake. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to pack and book a flight to London.’

  ‘I have planned that we will go on my jet tomorrow.’

  ‘You are, but I’m going now—alone.’

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE GREY RAIN-FILLED sky of London matched Raul’s mood as he glared out of his hotel window at the skyline, impressive even in this weather. All last night he’d tossed and turned, haunted by the memory of one weekend with a woman who had changed his life far more than he cared to admit. Just as he refused to acknowledge that he missed her, that he hadn’t wanted to let her go.

  Yesterday, he’d watched Lydia march off through the park not realising how serious she was about leaving Madrid until they’d returned in silence to his apartment where she’d promptly booked a flight. The temptation to stop her, to try and make her stay, had been almost too much for him—until he’d reminded himself that such ideas were a sign of total weakness. Not only did he not indulge in such emotions, but she was the woman who had kept secrets from him, secrets that had not been hers to keep.

  She’d packed, left and within an hour he had been alone. Silence had hung heavy around him as he’d brooded over their weekend, his rational thoughts accepting it had been exactly as she’d claimed. A mistake. For both of them. He’d allowed her to get close, expose depths of his emotions he’d never intended to be shown, only to find she was as manipulative and cold as him. Hell, what else had she lied about? Had all that talk of her family, her childhood been to lull him into a false sense of security whilst she dug deeper into his past?

  With an angry growl he turned away from the view of London, feeling more like a caged animal. Coffee and distraction were what he needed right now. He had to focus his mind, put Lydia totally out of it. He had to forget her. Especially today. He was to meet his brother, the son his father had truly wanted. With a feral oath slipping from him, he left the luxurious hotel suite, intent on seeking the company of unknown businessmen at breakfast and the normality that had left his life the moment Lydia had entered it.

  The aroma of strong coffee focused his mind as he sat at breakfast, although food was the last thing he wanted. The bitterness of the black liquid spiked his senses, bringing the controlled man he’d become back into play. Exactly what he needed to be, today of all days. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on the events of the weekend, not now at least.

  In a bid for distraction he picked up one of the newspapers, but it wasn’t the headline that caught his attention, it was the photo of Lydia looking every bit the socialite on a night out. Suspicion and a spark of lust slammed into him hard as he gritted his teeth firmly and looked at the image. A growl of Spanish slipped from him as he read the headline.

  Blackmailed into an engagement by Spanish

  billionaire looking for unknown half-brother!

  The paper shook as he held it, his fingers tightening on the offending pages until they hurt. She’d sold him out. Lydia had gone from his bed straight to the press. Was that why she’d been so keen to leave Madrid, to leave him? Before the headlines broke?

  He shouldn’t read it, shouldn’t give it even the smallest bit of his attention, but his eyes began quickly to scan the words even though his emotions, and maybe even his heart, warned against it.

  London heiress Lydia Carter-Wilson has been unable to keep the dark family secrets of Spanish business mogul Raul Peréz Valdez.

  ‘Raul was shocked to discover he had an older brother,’ a reliable source informed.

  The only heir to his father’s estate has just discovered the existence of a brother, who will now share the inheritance of his father’s company, Banco de Torrez. The blackmailed bride-to-be is honouring a contract her father had signed with the late Maximiliano Valdez in order to pay off family debts.

  Legitimate son, Raul, seems more than happy to marry instead of sharing his inheritance with his half-brother.

  A curse left his lips without any thought for those around him. She’d even shamed her father. What kind of a woman did that? A mercenary one who only thought of herself.

  Right at this moment he was tr
apped in a bubble of anger. He’d trusted Lydia, allowed her into his family and, if he was brutally honest, his emotions. She’d got to him on a level he’d never known—and then she’d done this.

  He pulled out his phone and with savage satisfaction pressed Lydia’s number. Infuriatingly, she didn’t answer and as the message system kicked in he almost cut the connection, but sense prevailed. The sooner she realised he knew what she’d been up to, the better, but first there was time for a little of her own medicine. Deceit.

  ‘Lydia. There are papers to sign for your father’s debt. I will see you at twelve forty-five, before I meet Max at one.’

  With a satisfied smile he ended the call. He had no doubt she would be there. Just as he had no doubt she would try and deny all knowledge of the article. After all, hadn’t she kept Max’s whereabouts from him for several days before enlightening him—only then she’d made seduction the main game plan? What would her plan be today?

  It seemed Miss Carter-Wilson was as cold and calculating as he was and would do anything to extract herself from the debt her father had tied her to—but this time she’d gone too far. This time she’d played with the wrong man and for that she would pay.

  * * *

  Lydia’s heart sank as she entered the smart hotel, the large Christmas tree mocking her as it sparkled. With Christmas a week away, carols filled the hotel with joy and happiness. She was far from feeling anything like that, knowing this meeting with Raul would be so much more difficult than that first one almost three weeks ago. She hung up her coat in the cloakroom and walked over to the mirror, where, feeling the need for more armour, she reapplied her lipstick then looked at her reflection.

  She’d changed in the last three weeks. She might not look any different from the woman who had first met Raul, but she was. She’d had her heart broken—exactly what she’d spent all her adult life trying to avoid. Now, thanks to her father’s bad business dealings and one impulsive weekend with Raul Valdez, she felt totally out of control even though she looked far from it. She took in a deep breath and smoothed her hands down the bold red skirt of the suit she’d spent time selecting this morning. Just as she had done on their first meeting, she’d dressed with care, wanting to exude a confidence she was far from feeling, and now she’d seen the headlines in today’s papers she needed every bit of help she could get.

 

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