One Night in Madrid: Spanish Billionaire, Innocent Wife / The Spaniard's Defiant Virgin / The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride

‘Alannah …’

Raul’s voice was surprisingly soft and two large, long-fingered hands reached round in front of her. One clamped over her wrist, stilling her and holding her there, while the other eased the sloppy mess of the coffee-filled plastic cup from her now nerveless grip and set it down firmly and securely on the table top. The heat of his body surrounded her, the slightly musky scent of his skin tantalising her senses, and she knew that if she took so much as half a step backwards she would end up hard up against him, feeling the wall of his muscled frame at her back.

‘Now,’ he said, the beautifully accented voice rasping slightly on the word, ‘are you going to tell me just what all this is about?’

‘You wanted coffee …’

Did her voice reveal to him, as much as it did to her, just how close to the edge she was? How could he not catch the way it was rough around the edges, as if her control over her words was coming unravelled and all control slipping from her grasp?

‘I did not want coffee—I have drunk enough of the stuff to float a battleship. And I most definitely do not want any of that …’

The hand that had held the plastic cup waved in a gesture of supreme contempt to where it now stood, still filled to the brim with unappealing-looking and rapidly cooling stewed dark coffee.

‘But you said …?’

A new wave of panic swept over her as the words and the gesture pulled away her much needed defence of being able to do something—anything—other than actually look him in the face—and, worse, let him see into hers and find the dark secrets she wasn’t yet ready to reveal to him.

Had he really said ‘No coffee’ and she had been so intent on running away from him, mentally at least, that she had let herself hear the opposite, taking it as the excuse she wanted?

‘No coffee.’ she managed, having to force her tongue to work.

‘No coffee,’ Raul echoed emphatically, and the warmth of his breath against her cheek made her shiver in sharp reaction to just how close he was.

She felt as if her skin was afflicted by stinging pins and needles of awareness, prickling all over, lifting every tiny hair on her flesh. Loss and misery were a bitter taste in her mouth, combining brutally with the cruel knowledge that just two years ago, if circumstances such as these had arisen, then Raul would have been the first person she would have turned to, the one she would have known—or at least believed—would be there for her, to help her, support her, lend her his strength, mental and physical, to see her through.

And she would have gone into his arms like a bird seeking its nest, flying straight into their security, thinking that there she would be safe, it would be like coming home, and feeling she could stay there for ever. But harsh reality had taught her that that sense of safety had been false, unbelievable, a total delusion. The truth was that that sanctuary had been, emotionally, the worst place she could have been. The real world, with all its sorrow and bitterness, was still better. ‘And now …’

Still caught up in her own unhappy thoughts, Alannah had no power to resist as the hand that held her wrist tightened, spinning her round to face Raul.

And she was even closer than she had thought. Facing this way, she was almost up against his chest, her nose level with the top button on his shirt, her eyes looking straight at the smooth, bronzed skin of his throat, seeing the way the muscles tensed and released as he swallowed.

‘Now you will tell me just what all this is about.’

‘All—?’

The words were choked off, the breath snatched from Alannah’s lungs as Raul pushed long brown fingers under her chin and lifted it so that her eyes were now forced to meet the burn of his as they bored down into her.

‘And before you say “All what?” and tell me that there is nothing wrong, then you should know that I will not believe you.’

How had he known so precisely what she had been about to say? Was he a mind-reader now?

‘Why not?’

For a second as his head lowered she thought that he was actually going to touch her, that he might rest his forehead against hers as he had used to do as a gesture of easy affection when they had been together. The thought made her heart clench in panic, her pulse thudding frantically. But he paused just inches away from actual contact and instead clamped his hands over her shoulders, holding her tightly so that she could have no hope of moving away.

‘Because I know you and the way you behave.’

‘You haven’t seen me for two years!’

‘Two years is not so long a time—and with someone like you, I would never forget.’

Never forget … So how did she take that?

If her mind were clearer then she might have been able to interpret just how Raul had actually said the words but her thoughts were still buzzing in despair and confusion and she hadn’t had a chance to grab at the moment before it was gone again and all she was aware of was the burning stare of those deep-set eyes into her face.

And Raul didn’t give her any time to think further.

‘I know that however much you try to hide it you are in pieces inside. You are walking and talking like a robot—but un robot would at least make some sort of sense and you are making none. And these …’

A hard fingertip brushed lightly over the shadows she knew were under her eyes, traced the lines that stress and sorrow had etched on her face.

‘These give too much away. So what is it, Alannah? What has happened to Chris?’

In a series of shocks, it was another she didn’t expect. Her head went back in surprise, eyes opening wide.

‘Chris … You remember my brother’s name?’

‘I remember everything,’ Raul told her in a voice that shivered all the way down her spine, taking another bit more of her hard-won control with it as it went. ‘So now are you going to tell me what has happened? What exactly is wrong with Chris?’

Trapped like a rabbit in the headlights by the burn of those amazing eyes, Alannah felt her grip on what was happening slip and evaporate, leaving her shaking and distraught, a feeling that was worsened by the way that Raul’s hands tightened on her shoulders, hard fingers digging into the soft skin under the black T-shirt.

‘Tell me,’ he said and it was a command, one she knew she disobeyed at her peril. Only the truth would satisfy him and he would know if she told him anything less than that.

‘Chris …’

She hunted for a way to say it—but what way was there other than the hard, cold fact that she had been trying to absorb, to accept, to cope with for the past twenty-four hours?

‘My brother—Chris’s gone … he’s dead.’

And as she said that final, dreadful word the last shattered remnants of her control broke completely and the tears that shock had forced back, leaving her unable to mourn, totally overwhelmed her. With no fight left in her, no strength at all, she gave herself up to the misery and the aching, dragging sobs that could not be held back.

Blinded by the tears, she could feel Raul’s strong arms come round her, gathering her close, holding her tight, and in the blackness and despair of her loss she had no way of knowing if his gesture was the most wonderful, most welcome thing on earth or if it was the worst, the most dangerous thing that could have happened to her.

She only knew that under her tear-soaked cheeks, against the sudden weakness of her body, there was now the strength and support she needed and so she buried her wet face in the fine material of Raul’s jacket and wept her heart out.

CHAPTER TWO

HE SHOULD never have touched her, Raul told himself furiously as he stared out at the lights of the houses flashing past his car as it sped through the darkened streets. He should never, ever have touched her! He should have known just where it would lead.

Maldito sea—what sort of a fool was he? He should have known.

He had let himself believe that two years was a long time. Told himself that in the two dozen months since he had last seen her, since she had walked out of his life without a backward glance, that he had been able to forget her—put her right out of his mind.

Forget her! Hah!

‘What?’

Without realising it, he had let the short snarl of bitter laughter escape from his lips as a real sound and the woman slumped beside him on the back seat of the powerful car stirred briefly from the silence into which she had lapsed after the total outpouring of grief and lifted her head to look at him, her eyes just pools of shadow in a white face.