only it could remain like this, Gianna pondered a trifle wistfully. To be able to go back to the place before it all went wrong…to view it from a different mind-set and avoid the pain and bitterness.
A hollow laugh rose and died in her throat.
So much for not thinking.
‘Don’t,’ Raúl chided gently.
She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘It’s impossible not to.’
He caught hold of her chin and tilted it so she had no recourse but to meet the darkness in his eyes. ‘There has never been anyone since you. No one.’
No one? Not even…
Dared she believe him …trust him? At the time of their marriage she would have given an unequivocal yes.
Now, even discounting Sierra’s damning words to the contrary, it seemed almost impossible to comprehend a man with Raúl’s sexual energy could remain celibate for such a long period of time.
There were so many layers to remove to reach the kernel of truth, she perceived.
Sex…even very good sex…did little more than temporarily paper over the cracks.
Which brought forth the question…had she been wrong three years ago? So distressed and emotionally traumatised that she’d chosen to believe Sierra’s accounting instead of trusting Raúl?
It was something she’d agonised over countless times, only to reach the same conclusion…logic in favour of an unlikely truth.
Did she possess the nous, the courage, to confront Sierra and shoot down each and every purported fact…and verify it as fallacy?
She had the rest of her life in front of her…a successful business, a pleasant apartment, a good lifestyle.
All of which she’d trade in a heartbeat…
Oh, God.
She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then slowly opened them again.
Don’t let intimacy cloud an important issue, she cautioned herself silently as Raúl released her and closed the water dial.
With ease he caught up a towel and hitched it at his waist, then he filched another and gently blotted the moisture from her body.
Towelled dry, he drew her into the bedroom, straightened the covers, then slid beneath them and gathered her in.
The remembered closeness of being held like this…the soft drift of his fingers as they trailed her spine…the way one hand cupped her head and the slide of his lips to her forehead…it was like coming home to a place where her body instinctively knew it belonged.
CHAPTER NINE
GIANNA drifted awake, reluctant to leave what she perceived to be an exquisite dream, only to fail as she became slowly aware of her sprawled position in the bed when she usually woke curled on her side.
She yawned, stretched a little…and felt the sexual pull deep within. For a brief moment she stilled, then groaned.
Raúl.
Ohmigod, they hadn’t…
She lifted her head and saw the empty space he’d occupied, became aware the scent of his cologne still lingered and weathered the memory, in detail, of what had transpired through the night.
Hell.
The time? She picked up her watch and did a double-take to see it was almost nine.
She never slept in—well, let’s qualify that. She hadn’t had reason to sleep late for a long while.
Time to rise and shine, shower, dress and greet whatever the day might hold, she decided as she gathered up fresh clothes and headed for the en suite bathroom.
Twenty minutes later she entered the dining room to find Raúl and Teresa enjoying breakfast.
‘Good morning.’
Gianna met Teresa’s warm smile with one of her own, and returned the greeting while studiously avoiding Raúl’s thoughtful gaze.
‘Do help yourself and join us.’
The chiffonier held juice, cereal, yoghurt, fresh fruit, coffee, and she made her selection, then crossed to take a seat at the table.
It was impossible not to be supremely conscious of Raúl’s close proximity. Nor to dismiss the vivid memory of his recent possession. After a long absence from sexual activity she could still feel his imprint deep within…a constant vivid reminder in her mind.
Could anyone tell?
Hell, she hoped not—especially Teresa, who would undoubtedly read more into it than Gianna was prepared to admit, even to herself.
And Raúl? Was it her imagination, or did she glimpse an indolent gleam in his dark gaze as he focused it on her for a few overlong seconds before returning his attention to the food on his plate?
‘I feel quite well this morning,’ Teresa announced with a pleased smile. ‘Sufficiently so to accept a dear friend’s invitation to lunch. Miguel will drive me.’ She turned towards Gianna. ‘It would be lovely to have you join me.’
Her response was immediate. ‘It’ll be a pleasure.’
‘Adriana is delightful,’ Teresa continued. ‘A true friend of long standing. You have met her, of course.’
So she had, at various fundraising functions in Madrid before and after her marriage to Raúl. An exotic beauty, who had chosen to age gracefully, and whose generosity to select charities was legend. Disadvantaged and terminally ill children won Adriana’s unstinting time and support, Gianna recalled.
Raúl finished the last of his coffee, placed the cup onto its saucer before leaning back in his chair and engaging Teresa’s attention.
‘There is something you should hear before it becomes public knowledge,’ he began quietly, and Gianna’s eyes widened in consternation.
He wasn’t…surely? Yet on some level she realised Teresa would learn the news soon enough, and better for it to come from Raúl than for his mother to hear it secondhand.
‘Last night, it was assumed our attendance together indicated a reconciliation, and an announcement was made to that effect.’
Teresa’s eyes, which had initially brightened, assumed a thoughtful expression. ‘Which is not true?’
Raúl took hold of Gianna’s hand and threaded his fingers through her own, felt their slight pull, and tightened his grip a little. ‘It’s what I hoped we could work towards, given sufficient time.’
Teresa turned towards Gianna. ‘How do you feel about this?’
Oh, my. Blatant honesty wasn’t an option. Consequently she aimed for ambiguity. ‘There are some unresolved issues.’
‘I love you both dearly,’ Teresa offered with genuine affection. ‘Nothing would please me more than to see you reunited.’
‘Gracias, Madre. If you’ll excuse me?’ Raúl rose to his feet and brushed his lips to Teresa’s temple. ‘I’ll be in the office.’
Gianna offered a slight smile, only to have her eyes widen as he crossed to her side and rested his hand briefly on her shoulder. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’
It was such a light gesture, and one that could be interpreted merely as a kind courtesy. So why did it feel as if pink coloured her cheeks in damnably sensitive reaction?
‘Thank you,’ she managed with ease, and wondered if she was the only one to glimpse the momentary amusement apparent in his dark eyes before he turned and walked from the room.
‘There