Valaquez Bride (19 page)

A muscle in Raul's strong jaw ticked with fascinating
regularity. "But do you
want
a career?"

I want you, she longed to say but knowing she couldn't,
she simply forced a smile. "I think I'd like to do something to help
disadvantaged people, so there are a great many careers to choose from.
I just have to decide exactly what I want to do."

"You don't have to have a college degree to help other
people," Raul said. "Truly caring about them is far more important than
formal schooling. Abuela has no degrees but that hasn't stopped her
from helping others. Many of the children around here would be
suffering from malnourishment if she hadn't instructed their mothers in
the basics of good nutrition and then seen that the families received
the food they needed."

"I'm sure her caring has made many lives much better,"
Juliet said sincerely. "And I envy her the resources that allow her to
do it. But I'm afraid I'll have to get a job that pays and allows me to
be of service to others. And to get one of those, you almost have to
have a college diploma so I have little choice except to go back to
school."

Raul's eyes darkened to a deep forest green and for a
moment he seemed on the verge of saying something, but apparently
changed his mind. Instead he glanced down at the gold Piaget watch on
his wrist. "I must get back to the
casa
. I'm
expecting a call from Madrid," he told her, cupping her elbow to direct
her toward the lazily grazing horses. "You'll go back with me. I think
you've spent enough time in the sun for one afternoon."

Juliet didn't argue with him. By now, all desire for a
longer ride had dissipated. As their horses picked their way over the
rocky trail then broke into a canter on the road through the olive
grove, she and Raul said little to each other but there was nothing
really tense about the silence between them. Yet, Juliet did feel a
vague sense of unfulfillment, as if something one of them needed to say
had been left unsaid. The feeling persisted even as they rode into the
stable but when Raul lithely dismounted, then reached up to lift her
from the saddle, everything changed. The sense of unfulfillment altered
to sweet anticipation as he brought her down close to him, allowing
only the tips of her toes to touch ground before his arms enfolded her.

"
Mi amada
," he whispered, burrowing
his face in her hair. "You're so beautiful."

Another time, it might have hurt to hear him call her his
love when he didn't love her, but at this moment she let herself
luxuriate in the endearment. It was enough to be near him, to
experience both his strength and tenderness. Detecting the evocatively
familiar lime scent of his after shave, she relaxed against him, her
arms encircling his neck. As she whispered his name, his lips found the
racing pulse in her throat, then moved up to cover her own. The kiss
teased, heightening the anticipation, then surged to a passionate
taking of her mouth. A desire born of love quickened deep within her
and keenly awakened every nerve in her body. Never had she felt so
totally alive, so sensuously receptive that the lean hand curving into
the small of her back and the other that gently cupped her nape seemed
to sear her skin. The tip of his tongue tasted the sweetness of her
mouth and she felt as if she were melting into him as dizzying pleasure
swirled her senses.

"Juliet, I…" he began, then groaned softly as
her lips eagerly sought his again.

Lost in the marauding power of his kiss, Juliet barely
heard the footsteps on the concrete stable floor. But she was brought
back to reality by a familiar feminine voice's furiously exclaimed, "
Dios
!"
Raul reluctantly lifted his mouth from Juliet's. As her eyes opened,
they met the hot glimmer in his. As he slowly released her and an
appealing rosiness tinted her cheeks, he smiled slightly before turning
to face Jimena Ruiz.

Juliet also turned, biting back a groan as she found not
only Jimena glaring at her but Pablo and an unknown Spanish girl as
well. Pablo's face was tight with anger. He took a step toward his
brother. Then, without warning, he swung a fist.

"Pablo, no!" Juliet cried. But before she could move, Raul
had already swiftly raised his arm to deflect the attempted blow. His
green eyes raked over Pablo who stepped back, intimidated by a will far
stronger than his. Yet, he didn't concede defeat gracefully. A string
of strident Spanish pierced the silence until Raul interrupted with a
curt command.

"Speak English. You're embarrassing Margarita with your
indelicate language."

"Damn you," Pablo whispered violently, clenching and
unclenching his fists. "What right do you have to be kissing Juliet?"

"You're acting like a spoiled child," Raul replied coolly.
"There's no reason for you to be so upset."

Juliet felt rather ill, hardly able to believe Raul could
so carelessly dismiss as nothing the few moments they had just shared
together. And when Jimena Ruiz gave her a mocking triumphant smile, it
was the final straw.

Juliet turned and fled the stable. She half ran across the
pebbled drive in her haste to escape all of them, even the obviously
confused Margarita. Desperate to reach the sanctuary of her room, she
rushed between two of the cypresses that bordered the courtyard but she
hadn't even passed the swimming pool before Jimena caught up with her.

"I will talk to you, señorita," the older girl said
venomously. Her sharp fingertips dug into Juliet's arm. "Since the
first time I saw you, I suspected you were the little fool. Now you
have proven me correct. Do you believe Raul is seriously interested in
you?
Idiota
. You are only a diversion for him, a
silly little thing with whom he can dally."

"Thank you for your analysis of his feelings," Juliet
answered sarcastically. As she tried to free her arm, Jimena's
fingernails dug deeper into her flesh, but she refused to wince. "Let
me go."

"In a moment. I am not yet finished." Jimena sneered. "You
make me sick. You are one of those girls who can look so innocent even
though you are not innocent at all. Perhaps that is what intrigues
Raul. He knows you are experienced but you look so young and
dewy-eyed." She snorted. "But he will not stay intrigued very long. So
you would be wise to stay away from him. I tell you this for your own
good."

"I just bet," Juliet retorted. And as fingernails clawed
her arm before it was released, the remnants of her composure vanished.
"Why don't you go jump in the pool, Jimena? Or better yet, I think I'll
push you in," she threatened with incredible calm, stepping menacingly
toward the older woman. "I'd like to see what chlorine would do to that
designer silk dress of yours. And I imagine your perfect coiffure
wouldn't look so perfect after a dunking, would it?"

Jimena's almond eyes widened with surprise and some fear.
Holding up one hand, she backed up, glanced over her shoulder, and,
after seeing how near she was to the pool, she sidestepped hastily.
Then she turned and scurried away, as if the hounds of hell were after
her silk dress.

Juliet smiled grimly but soon delayed reaction set in,
creating a heaviness in the center of her chest as she wandered
aimlessly into the house. She didn't really know why she suddenly felt
so terribly depressed. Jimena hadn't told her anything she hadn't known
already. Yet, somehow, the truth hurt more when another person told it,
even if that person was a shrew like Jimena Ruiz.

Wandering across the main hall, Juliet decided to hide
herself in the library. No one except Raul ever seemed to use the room
and he usually did so only in the evenings.

After opening the ornately carved double doors quietly,
Juliet slipped into the vast book-lined room. She had always liked it
here. The comfortable leather furniture and sturdy tables and desks
added a homey touch of stability and security, which was exactly what
she needed at the moment.

Though the majority of leather bound volumes were
naturally written in Spanish, there was an entire section devoted to
English and American literature. After perusing the titles, she reached
for a novel by Thomas Hardy, feeling his brooding view of life would
certainly suit her present mood. But before she could take the book to
a chair and sit down with it, Pablo threw open the library doors then
shut them with a resounding bang after entering the room.

"You owe me an explanation," he muttered as he approached
Juliet. "And I want you to answer this question for me: Were you not
interested in me last year because you were in love with Raul?"

Hugging her book to her breasts, Juliet sighed tiredly. "I
told you last year I simply wasn't romantically interested in you. Raul
had nothing to do with it. So no, I wasn't in love with him last year."

"But now you are," Pablo snapped. "Aren't you?"

"Yes," Juliet admitted candidly. "I guess I am in love
with him."

"And is he in love with you too?"

"He certainly doesn't act like it," she retorted ruefully.
Then her expression sobered. "No, he isn't."

"But you love him anyway. Is that it?" When she nodded,
Pablo smote his forehead with the heel of his hand. "I should have
known it. So there is no chance for me, is there?"

"Pablo, please stop this game," Juliet said beseechingly.
"You only think you want me because I'm not interested. That makes me a
challenge, that's all. You know you don't really love me."

"I know there's no use in loving you now, if Raul is my
competition. But I could have loved you eternally."

Juliet smiled indulgently. "We're not even compatible. We
never would be. Accept that. And try to be content with someone like
Margarita. She is a lovely girl and she would certainly fit into your
life more comfortably than I ever could."

"What good is there in talking about us?" he muttered. "If
you're in love with Raul, I know you couldn't love me. He's much more
dynamic than I am, more mature and stronger. Women flock to him; I
can't compete."

"You're younger," Juliet reminded him gently. "Give
yourself time and you'll be as—as magnetic as he is, I'm
sure."

"But not for you?" Pablo asked softly. "I'll never have a
chance with you?"

"No," Juliet whispered. "And I told you that last year."

"And now I must accept it," Pablo conceded with a slight
smile. "All right, I accept it. Or at least I understand. So I will
leave you alone from now on.
Adios
, Juliet."

Smiling slightly at his dramatic exit line, she allowed
him to kiss her cheek. She watched him leave the room and shook her
head indulgently. He was such a little boy; she couldn't stay mad at
him. Drawing a deep breath, she sank down on a worn black leather chair
but before she could open the book she held, the library doors opened
again.

This time it was Raul who came in. Juliet's hands began to
shake violently as he strode across the room to stand towering above
her. "I saw Pablo follow you in here," he announced flatly. "What did
he say to you? Was he abusive?"

"N-not really," she answered, her voice embarrassingly
shaky. "And I think I finally managed to convince him he's only been
interested in me because I've never thrown myself at him as many other
girls do."

"And why is that, Juliet?" Raul questioned seriously, his
steady gaze enigmatic. "My brother can be a charming young man so why
doesn't he appeal to you? Is it because he is Spanish?"

"Because he is Spanish?" Juliet repeated blankly, then
felt an incongruous desire to laugh. If only Raul knew that his being
Spanish certainly hadn't prevented her from falling hopelessly in love
with him… But he didn't know that and she couldn't tell him,
so she shook her head instead. "What would his being Spanish have to do
with anything? I'm just not interested in him
because—because, well, he just seems so young, I guess."

Raul's tense expression altered slightly. He almost
smiled. "Pablo is older than you, Juliet."

"But he
seems
younger. He's very
flighty and I just take life more seriously, I guess."

With a swiftness that set her pulses pounding, Raul leaned
down, his lean brown hands gripping the armrests of her chair. A sudden
warmth in his green eyes seemed to envelop her. "Do you take life
seriously,
pequeña
? Really?"

"Yes, I think I do," she breathed nervously. "Don't you
believe that?"

"I'm trying, Juliet," he answered cryptically. One hand
came out to press gently against her cheek, then he straightened with
something like a sigh of regret. "We'll talk about this again soon," he
promised softly. "But right now, I must catch that phone call from
Madrid. You understand?"

Juliet understood nothing and could only gaze up at him
with wide bewildered eyes. But when he murmured, "Until later,
mi
amada
," and started to stride away, she called after him.

"Raul, I—I'm sorry if I've caused trouble
between Pablo and you. I feel very bad about what happened—in
the stable."

Raul's gaze, dark and intense, roved over her. He shook
his head. "That wasn't your fault. Pablo simply has a hot temper but he
rarely stays angry for long."

"But he tried to hit you."

"That wasn't the first time, I assure you," Raul responded
wryly. "Even when brothers love each other, they don't always agree. So
you are not to worry about what happened in the stable. Understood?"

"I don't know," she murmured weakly. "I still feel guilty."

With an incomprehensible murmur, Raul took a step in her
direction, then stopped and shook his head. "You shouldn't feel guilty
but I'll have to convince you of that later. The call from
Madrid…" As she nodded and forced a wan smile, he hesitated
again, then turned and quickly strode from the room.