can’t be serious?
His eyes held hers, compellingly intent. ‘Very serious.’
A host of conflicting thoughts swirled through her brain.
If she agreed…
Are you insane?
She had a business to run. She couldn’t just pick up and leave at a moment’s notice.
‘A few weeks of your time, Gianna,’ Raúl pursued, his voice dangerously soft. ‘Is that too much to ask?’
Her first instinct was to offer a resounding yes…even as her head reeled at the mechanics involved.
She’d need to appoint Annaliese as interim manager, employ another staff member, organise stock, orders…
A silent groan rose and died in her throat.
Oh, hell, why was she giving it consideration? The whole thing was impossible.
Raúl caught a glimpse of each fleeting emotion on her expressive features and was able to divine every one of them.
‘Teresa looks upon you as her daughter,’ he offered quietly. ‘Irrespective of our estrangement. There are a few special items…heirlooms…she wants to gift to you in person.’
No. The negation rose and died in her throat.
Please don’t do this to me.
‘I couldn’t possibly accept them.’
‘Why not?’
‘They should belong to you,’ she said quickly. Too quickly. The words tumbled without thought. ‘Your family. Your wife.’
Oh, God, what had she said?
With a sense of horrified dismay she saw one eyebrow slant with a hint of humour. ‘You are my wife,’ Raúl reminded her silkily. ‘Or had you forgotten we’re still legally married?’
Forgotten? How could she forget, when never a day went past when his image didn’t come to mind? Or night…when he managed to invade her dreams.
‘You can’t expect me to agree,’ she managed at last.
‘There is a valid reason why you can’t?’
Several, she longed to fling, truly torn as she mentally weighed her loyalty to a genuinely kind woman who had gifted unconditional support at a time when she’d needed it most.
To give in would mean revisiting painful memories, not the least of which took the form of the indomitable man who now stood before her.
A man whose physical impact affected every nerve in her body, heightening tension to an electrifying degree.
Three years, she agonised silently, and nothing had changed.
‘There’s a lover you’re reluctant to leave?’
She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry at his assumption. As if. Any man she’d encountered after Raúl didn’t come close, for there was no spark, no quickening of her pulse…nothing.
Yet how many lovers had he taken since she’d walked out on their marriage? Sierra Montefiore…had she quickly resumed her former place as one of them?
The mere thought sent a shaft of pain arrowing through her body.
‘Yes,’ she revealed with unaccustomed flippancy, knowing it to be false…unless Jazz, the black-and-white moggy she’d adopted from an animal rescue centre, counted. Male, he curled up on her bed every night, his warm, furry feline body a welcome comfort.
Raúl’s eyes darkened, then narrowed a little so fleetingly she almost missed it.
‘I’m sure he can exist without you for a few weeks,’ he drawled with dispassionate coolness.
Gianna pretended to consider the possibility. ‘Doubtful.’ Jazz would protest volubly at being deposited in a boarding cattery, and probably disdain gifting her his affection for days on her return. The little fluff-ball possessed a territorial personality…the apartment was his. Anyone who entered was duly inspected, reluctant approval given or denied, and thereafter subject to slit-eyed feline observance.
‘Yes or no, Gianna.’
She cast him a disparaging look. ‘In case you haven’t done your homework, I run this boutique with one part-time member of staff. Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave at a moment’s notice.’
‘I wasn’t aware I’d asked that of you.’
‘Really? The man who snaps his fingers and every employed minion jumps to obey your command?’
Amusement lifted the edges of his mouth. ‘You are not one of my minions.’
‘Hallelujah.’
‘Have dinner with me, and we’ll discuss whatever arrangements you need to make.’
‘I don’t recall saying yes, yet.’
‘You didn’t need to.’ The dry tones held a degree of mockery…something she chose to ignore. There was the temptation to stand her ground, except it would prove an exercise in futility.
Without a further word, she crossed to the serving counter and dealt with the sales register, where it took only minutes to check folding money, credit slips, assemble the cash float. When she was done, she dimmed the overhead lights, collected her bag, engaged security and indicated they should leave.
Raúl loomed large at her side as they walked towards the escalator, and she was all too aware of his close proximity not to mention how he affected her.
It wasn’t fair to feel like this after an absence of three years. Hateful to be transported back to a time when she’d lived for him…only him. Even thinking about him had made her happy, and as soon as he’d appeared it had been all she could do not to break into a quickened pace and leap into his arms.
The way he’d laugh and hold her close, nuzzle the soft curve at the edge of her neck…then cover her mouth with his own in a kiss that reached down into her soul.
Heaven, she reflected as she stepped off the escalator, feeling momentarily bereft that what they’d once shared had been lost.
‘I’m staying at the resort directly opposite.’ Raúl indicated as he joined her. ‘We’ll eat there.’
‘I have plans for the evening.’ Some plans, she reiterated silently. Drive home, change, feed Jazz, make herself something to eat, watch television, then call it a night.
He spared her a level look. ‘Postpone them.’
Gianna turned to confront him. ‘And if I choose not to?’
‘Do you particularly want to indulge in a verbal fencing match?’
He was standing too close, and she was suddenly all too aware of the subtle aroma of his cologne, light with musky undertones. Indisputably his, as if crafted especially for him.
It stirred her senses and awakened too many sensitive nerve-endings for her peace of mind.
Raúl’s eyes narrowed fractionally, almost as if he knew, and it irked unbearably…so much so she raked his tall frame from head to foot and back again with slow deliberation.
‘Let’s get one thing straight.’ She took a deep calming breath. ‘If I agree, it’ll be on my terms,’ she qualified as her eyes seared his own with unblinking determination. ‘It’ll take days, possibly a week, for me to organise staff, contact my clientele, suppliers, ensure there will be no hiccups with replacement stock arriving on time. When that’s in place, I’ll take the first available flight to Madrid, arrange hotel accommodation, and inform you of my arrival.’ There was more, and she delivered the words with precise