The Society Bride

by Fiona Hood-Stewart

  ‘Okay.’ Nena smiled. She loved these evenings spent on the terrace, sharing time together—moments that had become increasingly precious after the accident.

  The latter had formed a silent bond between them. They didn’t need to talk about it, or go over it time and again, but each knew how close they’d been to losing the other and the thought had left them both shaken.

  ‘Ah, there’s the phone,’ Ramon remarked, getting up from the wrought-iron chair and making his way inside.

  Nena caught snatches of his voice through the open glass doors.

  ‘Yes? When did you find out? Ah, I see. Well, it will have to be dealt with immediately. I was sure he was the one. I’m afraid so—no, that would be impossible. Fine. I’ll be there tomorrow.’

  Nena listened to his last words with a sinking heart. She knew the call must be from London, that something was going on in the office—either his or at Carvajal’s—that would require his immediate presence. Now, finally, the dream was about to end.

  ‘Nena, I’m afraid we shall have to leave tomorrow and go back to London. There are things I need to attend to at the office,’ he said absently.

  ‘I see,’ she replied, masking the rush of fear and disappointment. Here everything was so perfect that she was loath to return to the real world. ‘Is something wrong?’ she asked, seeing his brows creased in a thick dark line above the ridge of his nose.

  ‘I’m not entirely certain as yet, but I believe so. It’s a bit difficult to explain right now.’

  ‘Well, I don’t see why,’ Nena responded touchily. ‘I’m not totally dense.’

  ‘It has nothing to do with you being dense or otherwise. I’m just not sure of my facts and this involves others. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait.’ His tone was arbitrary and she experienced a flash of annoyance.

  And pain.

  It had already begun. The outside world was already insinuating itself into their little paradise, tainting it with the doubts and fears that for the past weeks she’d managed to exclude from their existence.

  And now was reality check.

  Nena said nothing, but she rose and went inside, all desire to sit out in the evening breeze suddenly gone. The magic interlude was over, she realised sadly, and the sooner she recognised the fact the better it would be.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SINCE their return home Nena had barely seen Ramon. He seemed inordinately busy, often returning to Eaton Square close upon ten o’clock. She didn’t question his absences, but they hurt. Surely there couldn’t be that much to do at the office that required him to stay so late? One night she actually telephoned him on his mobile phone, but she was given short shrift and never repeated the action.

  ‘I’m in a meeting,’ he’d said impatiently. ‘I’ll call you as soon as I’ve finished.’

  But it was past midnight when he reached home, and Nena had long since cried herself to sleep.

  It was no use. It would always be the same. The few weeks away had been nothing but an illusion that they’d both bought into for a while. Now he was back in his own world—a world of business and possibly casual or less casual affairs—and all that went with it.

  The other thing that worried her was that they’d hardly made love since their return. This fact, coupled with the late nights and Ramon’s increasingly short temper, did nothing to allay her fears.

  She must, she realised, make up her mind whether or not she was going to continue with the marriage or bring it to an end once and for all.

  The other matter that she’d left on hold was the applications to the universities she was interested in. But for some reason she didn’t have the energy or the will to get on with them. Perhaps she would just have to let it go for another year.

  Life was altogether not bright, and Nena felt herself slowly withering.

  There seemed little light at the end of the tunnel.

  As his investigation deepened Ramon became increasingly angry at the discrepancies he was coming across—not only in the Carvajal accounting, but in the way several big deals had been handled. It was a gruelling job to try and get to the bottom of the whole thing without alerting the principal suspects, and it had to be done carefully, mostly out of hours. He had enough to keep him busy during the day anyway, running not only his own businesses but seeing that Don Rodrigo’s affairs were put back on track.

  His days were long and his nights short. He wished he could explain to Nena, but felt it was impossible—the whole thing was just too tricky and too delicate to be broadcast before he had definite answers and proof of the double-dealing he suspected.

  But when one weekend he suggested they go to Paris and take a break she seemed unenthusiastic. She didn’t want to open up her grandfather’s flat there, and said they might as well just go to a hotel.

  Ramon agreed, and booked a suite at the Plaza Athénée.

  They arrived in Paris on Friday evening and prepared to dine at the Relais Plaza attached to the hotel. Perhaps later they would go dancing or have a drink somewhere, he reflected as they sat down.

  But Nena was strangely silent, unwilling even to make conversation.

  ‘Nena, is something wrong?’ he asked, irritated despite his desire to spend a nice time with her. She certainly wasn’t making it easy. Hadn’t he been at her entire disposal during three full weeks? Surely she must understand that he had a lot of work to catch up with now, as well as his other responsibilities?

  ‘No, nothing’s wrong—except everything,’ she muttered, savagely spreading butter on her French roll.

  ‘What do you mean, querida? I thought we were past all that now, that things were settling down between us.’

  ‘Really?’ she said, glaring at him across the table. ‘Well, you thought wrong. Maybe you think you can just shove me into a convenient drawer the minute you have other priorities to deal with, but I think that I merit some consideration.’

  Ramon sighed. This was not going to be easy. The investigations had reached a critical point where any kind of revelation might be fatal to the final outcome.

  ‘Look, Nena, I know I’ve been out a lot—’

  ‘A lot? Talk about an understatement?’

  ‘Please,’ he pleaded patiently, ‘I can’t explain everything that goes on at the office to you, but right now there are some fires to be put out.’

  ‘I’m sure. Especially from six o’clock onwards.’

  ‘Nena, what exactly are you saying?’

  ‘That you seem to have an awful lot to do after hours, Ramon.’

  He looked at her haughtily. ‘As a matter of fact, I do.’

  ‘Great. Well, that tells me all I need to know, doesn’t it?’

  ‘What are you implying?’ he asked carefully, lowering his glass, his eyes narrowing dangerously and his mouth forming a thin, angry line.

  ‘That you obviously have a mistress. Which is why I think the best thing would be if we finally brought this whole rigmarole to an end.’

  ‘You want to end our marriage?’ he said bitingly.

  ‘Yes. I think that this time I’ve really reached the end of my tether, Ramon. First it was Luisa, and now— Well, I don’t know who it is now, but I can only deduce there must be someone for you to spend every night out with as you’re doing.’ Her eyes were bright, her smile fixed and brittle, but she kept it in place, damned if she was going to make a fool of herself again.

  ‘This is absurd,’ he threw, putting his napkin down on the table angrily.

  ‘No, it’s not. You think that you can handle me as if I was a piece of personal property that you can pick up or put back on the shelf whenever you feel like it. Well, I’m not. And the sooner you realise it the better. The problem is that I don’t think you’re capable of seeing it any other way, so the sooner we get divorced and get on with our respective lives, the better it will be for both of us.’

  ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this,’ he muttered, hot rage simmering below his cool exterior.

  ‘Don’t you?
Well, that’s because you’re too used to getting your own way, I suppose.’ Nena made a show of sipping her champagne.

  ‘Okay, that’s it.’ Ramon’s face was dark and forbidding now and Nena swallowed, wondering if she’d gone too far. But it served him right. He had no right to treat her the way he had, in that autocratic manner.

  ‘Waiter.’ Ramon signalled the young man. ‘We won’t be dining after all. Put it on my bill.’ He made to rise.

  ‘But we’ve just ordered!’ Nena exclaimed.

  ‘Get up, Nena, and come with me.’

  Nena hesitated, about to refuse, then realised that she could hardly make a scene in the middle of the Relais and obediently followed him.

  Ramon marched her out of the restaurant and down the corridor back into the hotel. There he called the elevator. They rode it in chilled silence that could be cut with a knife. Nena held her head high and pretended not to give a damn, but she couldn’t help peeking at his furious face. What did he plan to do? Pack up and leave for London again at once?

  Ramon unlocked the door of their suite and pulled off the jacket of his suit. Then he turned and eyed her, his eyes hard. ‘I’ve had just about enough of these games.’

  ‘What games? I’m not playing games. If anyone does that it’s you,’ she threw, standing her ground.

  ‘Really? You think I play games? That I spend the better part of my time with some woman instead of with you, is that it?’ he asked, voice menacing.

  Nena took a deep breath determined not to cower as he moved towards her.

  ‘I—yes. I think that—’

  ‘What exactly do you think, Nena? Tell me,’ he said, looming over her now, his dark eyes gleaming with anger.

  ‘That you’re—well, that—’

  ‘Yes? Say it. Go on—or are you afraid?’

  ‘Of course I’m not afraid,’ she spluttered, forcing herself to look him in the eye. ‘It’s just that—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘This whole thing was wrong right from the start,’ she muttered, looking away.

  ‘Really? Well, let me show you just how wrong I think it is.’

  Before she could react his arms were about her, his body ramming hers. His hand slipped to the crook of her neck and he pulled her hair back, forcing her to look into his face. ‘I’ll show you once and for all what is right and what is wrong, señora mia,’ he muttered hoarsely, practically throwing her onto the bed.

  Then he was kissing her, stripping her of her garments and laying her naked before him.

  ‘Don’t, Ramon,’ she whispered, feeling that inevitable tug of desire pulling somewhere deep within her and trying desperately to resist it. ‘Don’t, please—we must be reasonable.’

  ‘Reasonable? Ha!’ With a few quick movements he stripped off his clothes and was back on the bed, his mouth ravaging her breasts, causing her to cry out. Then his lips sought further, descending until they reached her most vulnerable spot, that tiny nub of flesh, which he laved, taunted, leaving her moaning, the indescribable pleasure more intense than anything she’d ever felt, even in their most ardent lovemaking on Agapos.

  And he didn’t stop, but continued relentlessly until she climaxed over and over, unable to prevent the thrilling rush of pleasure and fulfilment.

  Nena could do nothing to stop the ardent onslaught, all thoughts forgotten as her plundered being surrendered to Ramon’s merciless siege of her body. When finally he thrust inside her, not gently, but hard and fast, as though determined to possess every inch of her, she curled around him, basked in the delight of him, breathless, responding now kiss for kiss, arching to receive him, all reason forgotten.

  When it was over at last, and they lay spent among the rumpled linen sheets, Ramon on one side of the bed and Nena on the other, he turned and looked at her hard. ‘Is that what you call wrong, Nena? Would you be able to conceive doing that with another man?’

  ‘Of course I wouldn’t dream of making love with another man,’ she threw at him witheringly, wishing he would take her in his arms as he usually did, not leave her abandoned and alone on the far side of this very large bed.

  ‘I see. And you think that I would find it perfectly natural to make love in the same manner as I do with you with another woman? Is that it?’

  ‘It had occurred to me,’ she mumbled, feeling rather foolish under his intense scrutiny. ‘After all, you were out with Luisa.’

  ‘Luisa! Always damn Luisa. Can’t we forget her? I certainly have. She’s nothing but a friend now.’

  ‘That’s not what it looked like to me,’ Nena muttered, curling into the pillow, her tired limbs aching.

  ‘So you’re jealous?’ he said thoughtfully, sitting up and eyeing her closely.

  ‘Of course I’m not jealous,’ she snapped, sitting up as well and pulling her knees under her chin. ‘I’m realistic, that’s all. You had an affair with the woman for two years. I suppose it’s normal that you wouldn’t just break up with her because of a marriage of convenience that was thrust upon you when you least expected it.’

  ‘Hmm.’ His gaze was speculative. ‘And just out of interest, querida, how did you find out about Luisa and I?’

  ‘I read an article,’ she replied defensively. ‘In Hola! magazine. You were splattered all over it.’

  ‘I see. And so you believe that now I must be either continuing my affair with Luisa—an interesting thought, since she’s several thousand miles away—or out every evening making passionate love to someone else?’

  ‘I didn’t say that.’

  ‘Not in so many words,’ he said, his lips twitching, ‘but you implied it.’

  ‘Well, you have to admit you spend more time out than in,’ she threw, eyeing him crossly from under her thick lashes, unaware of how lovely and young and vulnerable she looked, huddled against the pillows, her lips pouting.

  ‘Then perhaps it is time, mi amor, that I explain to you exactly why I have been spending an unusual amount of time away from you. It is not by desire, I assure you.’

  ‘No? Then why is it?’ she challenged, wondering what sort of excuse he’d come up with—though she was feeling less certain about her former theory by the moment.

  ‘Perhaps we should get up first, have a shower, and I’ll order Room Service,’ Ramon replied, reaching over and helping her up. ‘Then I promise to give you a full account of why I’ve been so tied up.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Shush,’ he ordered. ‘For once just do as you’re told, and don’t get me annoyed again or this time I’ll lay you over my knee and give you the spanking you deserve for being so suspicious of your husband,’ he said, laughing before he leaned down and kissed her brow. ‘Now, off with you into the shower.’

  He slapped her bottom lightly, and Nena felt her face breaking into a smile in spite of the doubts that still lingered.

  Later, once they’d both showered, Nena joined Ramon at the table brought up by Room Service, piled with scrambled eggs and bacon, toast and tea. They sat wrapped in the thick terry towel robes provided by the hotel and Nena realised that she was hungry now—and for just what he’d ordered. Forget wine and fine cuisine, she was delighted to dig her teeth into something wholesome.

  ‘I hope this suits you,’ Ramon said, passing the butter. ‘Personally, I’m rather hungry.’

  ‘Me, too,’ Nena agreed, lifting the silver dome covering her scrambled eggs and bacon and delighting in the delicious aroma wafting to her nostrils.

  This she realised wistfully, was another aspect of her husband that she so enjoyed. The fact that he could be fun, casual and relaxed. That she didn’t need to be on show the whole time, like some wives appeared to be, that she could be herself.

  But she still hadn’t heard what he had to say, and she was determined that before she allowed herself any more breaks she simply must know what Ramon had been doing for the past few weeks. Even though she had her own ideas, the least she could do was listen to his version of the story before passing final judgement.


  She looked across the crisp white tablecloth at his handsome features, his bronzed face and neck appearing from inside the white terry robe, and sighed.

  How she loved him!

  Nena took some toast from the basket and absently spread it with butter. For, although she recognised her feelings, she knew that unless his excuse was a very good one she could never live happily with a man whom she believed was betraying her at every turn—however handsome, however wonderful he might be.

  ‘Are—are you going to tell me?’ she said finally, biting the bullet. Better to get it over with right away than spend the whole meal conjecturing.

  ‘I told you I would tell you, Nena, and I will. It may come as a surprise, and be somewhat upsetting, but I’m afraid it’s the truth and must be faced.’

  Nena nodded. Her heart quailed. So it was a woman after all.

  ‘Ever since your grandfather died,’ Ramon said, stirring some sugar into his tea, ‘I have been dealing with the Carvajal affairs, as you know.’

  She nodded, gulped down her tea and listened.

  ‘After several days of studying files, and meeting with members of the board and the staff, I became aware of certain discrepancies. Or what I assumed might be discrepancies. One file in particular caught my attention. I won’t bore you with a lot of detail that is really unimportant at this stage—suffice it to say that I became increasingly suspicious of several people, and principally, I’m sorry to say, Sir Wilfred.’

  ‘Sir Wilfred?’ Nena exclaimed, shocked. ‘But he was Grandfather’s most trusted person.’

  ‘I know. Which makes what I’ve discovered doubly bad.’

  ‘What have you discovered?’ Nena asked, caught between shock at his revelation and delight that the reason he’d been spending time away was so far removed from what her fertile imagination had been creating that it left her feeling stupid and guilty for having falsely accused Ramon.

  ‘I’m afraid he’s been siphoning funds from the company ever since your grandfather became ill. But it’ll be difficult to prove, and I would hesitate to take the matter to court. It will only cause a scandal, and would probably affect the market value of the company as a whole. I feel we should deal with this as discreetly as possible. Sir Wilfred is, after all, getting on. It would be no surprise to anyone if he decided to retire.’