by Lynne Graham
‘At least we have a starting point, gatita. It will be enough,’ Raul swore with silken satisfaction. ‘Now I think you should get some rest.’
‘Rest?’ she repeated unevenly.
‘You look exhausted, and this is a very long flight.’
‘Luis...?’ she mumbled.
‘I can manage him for a few hours,’ Raul asserted with cool confidence.
Polly scrambled clumsily upright again, face burning under the onslaught of a wave of hot colour. Her legs were so wobbly she wasn’t sure she could walk, and she felt dizzy, disorientated.
Raul watched her retreat to the sleeping compartment every step of the way, a slightly amused smile beginning to curve his expressive mouth. Polly shut the door and sagged, furious with him, furious with herself. First he treated her like a toy to be played with, then he dismissed her like a child after a goodnight kiss! It made her feel controlled and horribly vulnerable, because she literally didn’t know at any given time what Raul was planning to do next. Just because he was experienced... and she wasn’t!
Oh, dear heaven, no, she reflected, not wanting to even think about how and where he had gained all that cool sexual assurance. She curled up in a tight ball on the builtin bed. Until Raul had said it, she hadn’t realised just how very tired she was. Hopefully she would be better equipped to deal with him when she felt a little more buoyant.
Polly woke up slowly, eyes opening blankly on her surroundings until she finally registered that she was still on the Zaforteza jet. Glancing at her watch, she groaned in disbelief. She had just enjoyed the equivalent of a full night’s sleep for the first time since Luis had been born...Luis! Pushing her wildly tumbled hair off her brow, Polly rolled off the bed and opened the door back into the main cabin.
A cosy and unexpected little scene met her startled eyes. Chattering in soft, intimate Spanish, Irena was leaning over Raul while he cradled Luis. She was as close to Raul as a lover. Her big brown eyes swept Polly’s sleep-flushed face and crumpled clothing in a hostile look at the interruption.
‘Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?’ Polly demanded curtly of Raul
‘You were exhausted, and Irena was happy to help out.’ As Raul ran his stunning dark eyes over her tousled appearance, his ebony brows drew together in a slight but highly effective frown. ‘You should get changed. We’ll be landing at Maiquetia in an hour.’
The stewardess still had one possessive hand resting on Raul’s shoulder. Polly was appalled to register that the source of her own ferocious tension was undeniably a hot nasty jealousy which fuelled instantly suspicious thoughts. What had they been doing all those hours while she was asleep and safely out of the way? Was that why Raul had been so keen to send her off to rest? Why did Irena look like a cat that had got the cream?
As Polly studied Raul with a highly combustible mix of suspicion, distrust and embittered shameful longing, he stood up and calmly settled their son into his neat little cot. ‘I need a shave.’
‘Did you get any sleep?’ Polly muttered tautly.
‘Enough. I don’t need much.’ Raul strode past her.
‘Your husband is a real dynamo, señora. He has worked for most of the flight,’ the young stewardess shared with a coy look of admiration, tossing her head with a husky little laugh. ‘But don’t worry, I ensured that he ate and took time out to relax.’
At that news, Polly paled and went back into the sleeping compartment, but Raul had already disappeared into the compact bathroom next door. She lifted the white lightweight dress she had laid out earlier and smoothed abstractedly at the remaining creases while she waited for Raul to emerge. Finally the door opened. She felt absolutely sick by then, suspicion and jealousy making mincemeat of all rational thought.
‘Do you sleep with Irena?’ That blunt question just erupted from Polly. It was inside her head, but she could not for the life of her work out how the question had got from her brain onto her tongue.
Raul studied her without any expression at all. ‘Tell me you didn’t ask me that.’
That eerie lack of reaction completely spooked Polly. She crimsoned, pinned her lips together and then opened them again, driven by an overwhelming need for reassurance. ‘After what you said the night before last about not behaving like a husband...not to mention the way she’s behaving around you...naturally I’m suspicious!’
‘If I answer that insanely stupid question, I will lose my temper with you,’ Raul warned, very soft and low, narrowed dark eyes flaming gold between lush black lashes.
‘I don’t trust you—’
‘I will not live with jealous scenes. In fact nothing would disgust me more or alienate me faster. I do not sleep with my employees. The only woman in my life at present is you,’ Raul stated with a feral flash of even white teeth which suggested that even making that admission went severely against the grain.
Polly relaxed ever so slightly. ‘I want to believe that, but—’
‘The truth is that you are jealous of Irena,’ Raul condemned with whiplash cool. ‘Could that be because she makes the effort to look like an attractive adult woman while you’re still dressing like an adolescent who doesn’t want to grow up?’
Utterly unprepared for that counter-attack, Polly felt her soft mouth fall wide.
Raul flicked the white sundress off the bed. ‘A threeyear-old could wear this! Embroidered flowers at the neckline, ruched, shapeless—’
‘It was bought in a children’s department. Ordinary shops don’t cater for women my height and size!’ Polly shot at him shakily. ‘And, since I don’t want to dress like a precocious teenybopper, I have to choose the plain outfits. ’
Raul shrugged. ‘OK...I’ll remedy that.’
‘I am not jealous of that woman...and you needn’t think you can change the subject—’
‘Oh, I’m not changing it, Polly...I’m just refusing to talk about it,’ Raul incised with sudden grimness, shooting her a coldly derisive look. ‘Use your brain. Irena is Venezuelan. Venezuelan women are naturally glamorous, confident and flirtatious—’
‘My goodness, I can hardly wait to meet the Venezuelan men! What a fun time I’m going to have in your country!’ Polly forecast furiously.
In a sudden movement that shook Polly inside out, Raul strode forward and closed a lean and powerful hand round her slender forearm, dwarfing her with his intimidating height and breadth. With his other hand, he pushed up her chin, subjecting her to a splintering look of burning outrage that made her stomach turn an abrupt somersault and her knees go weak and wobbly.
‘What is mine is mine,’ Raul stressed with barely suppressed savagery. ‘I’d break you into little pieces for the jaguar to feed on before I would let any other man near you!’
Plunged willy-nilly into an atmosphere suddenly raw with scorching lightning currents of threat, Polly simply gazed up at him like a stupefied rabbit.
With equal abruptness, Raul released her again, a betraying rise of blood delineating his proud cheekbones as he absorbed her bewilderment. ‘I’m not a jealous man,’ he asserted in a roughened undertone. ‘But I am very conscions of my honour, and of my son’s need for stability in his life.’
Polly nodded like a little wooden marionette, afraid to move too close to the hungry flickering flames of a bonfire.
Raul was pale now beneath his golden skin, his superb bone structure harshly prominent. ‘I’m sorry if I overreacted...’
If, Polly reflected dizzily. Such a civilized term after so violent a loss of temper, brief though it had been. And she had discovered another double standard. The man who would be owned by no woman fully believed he owned his wife like a possession. But, ironically, what troubled her most at that instant was the stark awareness that she had really upset Raul. Yet she hadn’t a clue why her silly sarcastic comments should have exploded his cool, controlled façade into a shocking blaze of primitive fury.
‘Put it down to jet lag,’ Raul added almost jerkily, pushing long brown fingers restively through hi
s glossy blue-black hair. ‘You are not that kind of woman. If you had been, I would never have agreed to marry you.’
What kind of woman? The unfaithful type? What a peculiar thought for a male like Raul to harbour! For, on the face of it, Raul Zaforteza was a real heartbreaker, possessed of every quality most likely to hold a woman’s attention. Personality, looks, sex-appeal, wealth, power. How many women would risk losing Raul by betraying him in another man’s bed?
‘I will join you at the ranch in a couple of days,’ Raul murmured flatly as he moved past her—suddenly, she registered, keen to abandon the dialogue...and her? The suspicion hurt.
‘Join me?’ Polly echoed uncertainly. ‘What are you talking about? Where are you going?’
‘Tonight I’m afraid I’ll have to stay in Caracas. Tomorrow I’ll be in Maracaibo, and possibly the next day as well. I have several urgent business matters to deal with. I’ve been abroad for many weeks,’ he reminded her drily.
Alone again, Polly freshened up and slid with a distinct lack of enthusiasm into the simple white cotton dress. When she returned to the main cabin she could not avoid noticing Irena’s frequent starstruck glances in Raul’s direction, and her pronounced need to hover at his elbow as eager as a harem slave to satisfy his every wish. No longer did she marvel at her own suspicions earlier. The brunette had a real giant-sized crush on Raul. And possibly Raul was so accustomed to inviting female flattery and exaggerated attention that he genuinely hadn’t noticed.
‘OK, so there is a problem,’ Raul breathed, disconcerting Polly with a dark satiric glance of acknowledgement in lrena’s direction while she was gathering up Luis’s scattered possessions at the far end of the cabin. ‘We were both fifty per cent wrong, but, believe me, I have never given her the slightest encouragement.’
Polly nodded in embarrassed silence, feeling like an idiot over the fuss she had made but fearful of re-opening the subject lest she make things even worse.
Raul parted from her at the airport as coolly and politely as a distant acquaintance, a shuttered look in his brilliant dark eyes. Irena escorted Polly onto the light plane which would whisk her and her son out to the Zaforteza ranch. Polly’s heart was already sinking.
Would it always be like this with Raul? Would she never know Raul? Would she never understand what went on inside that complex and clever head of his? And was it possible that that ‘urgent business’ he had mentioned had merely been a convenient excuse to leave her? How humiliating it was to suspect that Raul had actually intended to accompany her to his home until she’d treated him to that foolish scene! After all, hadn’t he told her up front that jealousy disgusted him, and that nothing would drive him away quicker?
It was lashing with rain when Polly clambered off the plane, protected by a giant umbrella extended over her and Luis by the pilot. He helped her into the waiting four-wheel drive. Neither he nor the driver appeared to have a word of English. Polly was now feeling less guilty and more angry with Raul. How did he think it felt for her to arrive at the estancia alone, where nobody knew her and where very possibly nobody would even be able to speak to her?
Through the streaming windows she caught glimpses of a large spreading collection of buildings. Palm trees were being battered in the torrential downpour. And yet the heat was intense, the humidity high. A hellhole, Polly decided, in the right mood to make that snap judgement. Raul had posted them out to the boonies to live in a hellhole and just gone on his own sweet way, just as he was used to doing, just as he no doubt expected to continue doing...
A huge colonial-style house adorned by fancy verandahs and an upper balcony wreathed with climbers loomed out of the ram. Clutching Luis like a parcel, Polly made a dive through the torrent when the car door opened, fled up the steps and surged indoors into the mercifully air-conditioned cool without a single sidewise glance or pause.
She had a split second to catch her breath on the magnificence of the vast reception hall she stood in before she focused on the huddle of female servants sheltering behind the front door, all staring at her and the baby she held wideeyed. Silence hung for the space of twenty seconds.
A tall and stunningly beautiful blonde strolled into view. Frowning regally at Polly, she shot something at her in Spanish.
‘I’m sorry, I don’t speak—’
‘I am the Condesa Melina D’Agnolo. Where is Raul?’ the woman demanded in accented but perfect English.
‘Still m Caracas.’ Conscious of the staff now sidling out of a door to the left as fast as mice escaping a cat, Polly gazed enquiringly at the other woman. Sheathed in a superb cerise suit, glittering jewellery adding to her imperious air of well-bred exclusivity, the lady exuded angry impatience.
‘Caracas?’ It was an infuriated shriek of disappointment.
As the shrill sound echoed off the high ceiling, Luis jerked in fright and let out a loud, fretful wail.
Melina D’Agnolo stalked forward and surveyed him with unconcealed distaste. ‘So this is the child I have heard rumours about. It does exist. Well, what are you waiting for? Stop it making that horrible noise!’
‘He’s just hungry—’
‘When will Raul arrive?’
‘In a couple of days.’
‘Then I shall wait for him,’ Melina announced, eyes hardening as Luis continued to cry noisily in spite of Polly’s efforts to console him. ‘But you will keep that child upstairs, out of my sight and hearing.’
‘I’m afraid I have no intention—’ Polly began angrily.
‘I will not tolerate impertinence. You will do as you are told or you will very soon find yourself out of a job!’ Melina informed her. ‘In Raul’s absence, I am in charge here.’
Realising that she had been mistaken for an employee, Polly raised her head high, intending to explain that she was Raul’s wife. But the other woman had already walked away to utter a sharp command in Spanish. A middle-aged woman in a black dress appeared so quickly she must have been waiting somewhere nearby. Melina issued what sounded like a staccato stream of instructions.
The older woman glanced in open dismay at Polly.
‘The housekeeper will take you upstairs to the nursery. You can eat up there. I don’t want to be bothered by the child...is that understood?’
‘Why do you say you’re in charge here? Are you related to Raul?’ Polly enquired stiffly, and stood her ground.
Melina’s green eyes narrowed with suggestive languor, full lips pouting into a coolly amused smile. ‘I’ve never been asked to identify myself in this house before. Raul and I have been intimate friends for a very long time.’
Every scrap of colour drained from Polly’s face. There was no mistaking the meaning of that proud declaration. Her stomach curdled. It was a judgement on her, Polly thought sickly. She had foolishly made that scene over the infatuated Irena and now fate had served up her punishment: she was being confronted by the real thing. A genuine rival...
‘Why are you looking at me like that?’ Melina D’Agnolo enquired haughtily.
‘I think this is going to be embarrassing,’ Polly muttered.
Melina dealt her an impatient frown of incomprehension.
‘Raul and I got married a month ago.’
The thunderous silence seemed to reverberate in Polly’s ears, and then Luis started crying again.
The svelte blonde stared at Polly with raised brows, her incredulity unfeigned. ‘It isn’t possible that you are married to Raul—’
‘I’m afraid it is...’ Polly cut in, and switched her attention ruefully to the housekeeper still waiting for her.
The older woman murmured gently, ‘Let me take the little one upstairs and feed him for you, señora.’
Grateful for the chance to remove Luis from the hostile atmosphere, Polly laid her son in the housekeeper’s arms with a strained smile.
‘Señora?’ Melina D‘Agnolo echoed the designation with stinging scorn. ‘I think we need to talk.’
Raul, where are you when I need you? Polly
thought in furious discomfiture. This was his department, not hers! How could Raul possibly have overlooked the necessity of telling his mistress that he had acquired a wife? Polly turned reluctantly back to face the angry blonde. ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’
‘If you prefer it, we can talk out here, where all the staff can hear us.’
Rigid with tension, Polly followed Melina into a gracious reception room filled with superb antique furniture. ‘I don’t see that we have anything to say to each other—’
‘Obviously Raul married you because of the child. The oldest ploy of all. I expect you think you’ve been very clever.’ Melina loosed a grim little laugh. ‘Yes, I’m shocked, and I don’t mind admitting it. Ten years ago Raul loved me, but he still wouldn’t marry me, so I married someone else to teach him a lesson!’
Wanting no share of such confidences, Polly hovered, stiff with strain.
‘So you needn’t tell me that Raul loves you because I wouldn’t believe it! I am the only woman Raul has ever loved,’ Melina informed her with blistering confidence. ‘I have never been concerned by his other little flirtations.’
‘That’s your business, not mine.’
‘Your marriage won’t last six months,’ Melina said with dismissive certainty. ‘Raul cherishes his freedom. When my husband died, I chose to be patient. I have never interfered with Raul’s life—’
‘Then don’t do it now,’ Polly slotted in tightly.
‘If you think that is a possibility, you’re even more of a child than you look!’ Melina threw her a scornful look of superiority. ‘And next month you’ll be expected to deal with two hundred guests over the fiesta weekend. There’ll be a rodeo, a friendly polo match and a non-stop party. Are you used to mixing with the wealthy élite? How good are you on a horse? I’m usually Raul’s hostess, but now the job’s yours...and if it doesn’t go like clockwork, he’ll be furious.’
Polly had paled. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage—’