Valaquez Bride (23 page)

Her slender legs tangled with his but as she felt the
hardening ridge of his body surge powerfully against her smooth thighs,
one hand curved possessively over one slight hipbone, pressing her down
into the mattress, denying her contact with his upsurging masculinity.

She made a soft beseeching sound and her eyes fluttered
open to see the slight triumphant smile that curved his firmly carved
mouth before it descended on hers again. With gentle aggression, his
lips plundered her own and when her hands began to move feverishly over
his back, one muscular arm slipped beneath her gently curving hips and
arched her soft warmth upward to brush against him. And she had never
wanted anything in her life as much as she suddenly wanted to belong
completely to him.

Turning over onto his side, he brought her with him,
holding her slender pliant body close against the hard lithe warmth of
his. A gentle hand stroked her tousled hair back from her face as he
whispered, "And now you finally begin to see how it is, don't you,
Juliet? You're beginning to want me almost as much as I want you. So it
is inevitable—married or not, we will become lovers soon."

"Not if I go away," she whispered back tremulously, trying
to ignore the shiver of awareness that still trickled along her spine
as he lazily massaged her slim waist with his other hand. "We couldn't
become—lovers if I leave Granada."

"But you will not leave," he declared, his low tone taking
on a hard edge as his grip tightened around her waist. Entwining his
fingers in her
hair,
he tilted her face up slightly, forcing her to meet the stern light in
his green eyes. "Is that understood, Juliet? You won't run away from
Granada again. I'm the prospective bridegroom this time, not Pablo, and
it would be a very foolish mistake for you to try to run away from me."

Still too bemused by the intense needs he had aroused in
her, she had no desire to run away from him, though her common sense
was screaming at her that she should try to get as far away as she
could. Confusion raged in her and with a muffled sigh, she burrowed her
face into his neck, barely aware that she was seeking comfort from the
very person who was tormenting her. "I can't let you make me marry
you," she muttered weakly. "I just can't."

His lips brushed her hair. "Marriage to me won't be all
that bad, Juliet," he said softly. "I promise you I'll try to make you
happy."

Only your love could make me happy, she cried out to him
silently, unable to voice the words, fearing he would utter the lie and
say that he did love her, simply to get her to agree to the marriage.
Instead, she nuzzled her cheek closer to the smooth warmth of his skin
but as she started to remind him that he could not stop her from
running away from him, he pulled away, shaking his head.

"No more discussion, Juliet. We are getting married as
soon as we can. In the meantime, you will be kept very busy by Abuela,
I'm sure, making arrangements for the wedding." A smile hovered at the
corners of his mouth an instant before he brushed a light, teasingly
evocative kiss against her lips. "So I suggest you simply relax and
enjoy the next few days. Why fight against the inevitable?"

Why indeed? she wondered, longing to surrender to his
demands and take him any way she could get him. Then all her inner
turmoil was temporarily forgotten and she had to bite back a soft gasp
as Raul lowered his feet to the floor suddenly and got out of the bed.
The sunlight filtering through the windows glowed over his bronzed skin
while he looked around for the terry bathrobe he had discarded. Having
never seen a naked man before, Juliet blushed hotly and squeezed her
eyes shut, only to allow them to flutter open again when Raul glanced
down at her and laughed softly. By then, the robe covered him and he
was tying the belt loosely around his waist and when she inadvertently
released her breath in a soft sigh of relief, he grinned unabashedly
and shook his head.

"How shy you are, Juliet," he said softly, teasingly. "I
do believe you're going to be a typical blushing bride."

"I'm not going to be a bride at all, blushing or
otherwise," she argued weakly. "Raul, I can't be. This is so crazy.
I…"

"You will not run away, Juliet," he interrupted tersely,
thrusting his hands into the pockets of his robe and gazing down at her
intently, his green eyes darkly enigmatic. "I plan to keep a close
watch over you from now until our wedding day so make up your mind to
it—you won't run out on me the way you did Pablo last year.
And I think you realize I won't allow you to."

She did. Deep down inside, she knew he was not a man who
made idle threats so if he said he would be watching her closely, she
was certain he meant it. Suddenly the reality of the situation
overwhelmed her and as Raul turned and strode from the room, she
pressed her fist between her breasts, hoping to ease the ache caused by
her pounding heartbeat. He meant it when he said they were going to be
married very soon and in that moment in time, she wasn't even sure she
wanted to try to defy him.

Raul was true to his word. He spent the next day at the
casa
where she was and even when he decided to drive into Granada, he
insisted she go with him.

"But should I change clothes?" she asked him weakly out in
the courtyard where he had found her playing gin rummy with her uncle.
"Where exactly are we going?"

"Just to the gallery," he informed her, sweeping a long
lazy gaze over her neat denim sundress. "And no, don't change clothes.
You look fine as you are."

"She always looks lovely," Will spoke up dotingly, then
grinned at the younger man. "And I'm sure you've noticed that
dreamy-eyed look she's had in her eyes since yesterday. You can take
the credit for that, you know. I guess brides-to-be
do
have a radiant inner glow."

Entrancing color bloomed in Juliet's cheeks and though she
knew Raul was watching her, she couldn't meet his gaze directly. If she
had a radiant inner glow about her, she wished her uncle hadn't
mentioned it. She certainly didn't want Raul to realize exactly how
susceptible she was to him.

If he had come to that realization, he was too gallant to
let her know it. Catching one small hand in his, he simply said
good-bye to Will and escorted her beneath the stone arch and along the
flagstone path that led them to the driveway where the cream-colored
BMW was parked. After she was settled in the car, he came around to
slip in beneath the steering wheel, then, without a word, he started
the engine and drove away from the
casa
.

Out on the highway a few moments later, he glanced at her
and said softly, "You're very quiet, Juliet. Don't tell me you're still
trying to fight the inevitable."

"I feel so guilty," she blurted out, clenching her hands
together in her lap. "You just don't understand that I felt like the
most awful fraud this morning when you told Uncle Will we were getting
married. He was so pleased but of course he doesn't know you're only
marrying me to placate your grandmother."

"Do you think he'd be any less pleased about our plans if
he knew about yesterday morning?" Raul countered tonelessly. "He's an
old-fashioned man, Juliet, and if he had been with Abuela when she
found us in your bedroom, he would have expected the same thing she
did— marriage."

"But I would have been able to explain to him that nothing
happened," Juliet murmured. "And he would have believed me. He trusts
me and you and if we had told him nothing happened, he wouldn't have
expected you to marry me."

Raul turned his head, his dark intelligent eyes narrowing,
seemingly piercing the amber depths of hers. "Why didn't you tell Will
the truth then?" he asked, his voice low and melodious. "If you had
explained the entire situation to him, you might have gained an ally in
your fight against marrying me. I think you're right. He would have
believed you so why didn't you tell him the truth?" As he turned his
attention back to the road again, there was a barely perceptible
tightening of his jaw. "I think it's very
interesting
that you didn't tell him and try to gain his support, don't you?"

Averting her gaze, Juliet shifted uncomfortably in her
seat. "I really didn't see—any point in upsetting him."

"How disappointing," Raul said lazily. "And I was hoping
you didn't ask him to help you cancel the wedding plans because you'd
decided being married to me wouldn't be such a terrible ordeal after
all."

Her eyes darted up to meet his and though she detected a
hint of a teasing gleam in the dark green depths, she realized his tone
had been half serious. A revealing warmth colored her cheeks an
entrancing pink and she hastily turned to stare out her window. He was
too perceptive by far and at the moment, she was too unnerved by the
truth of what he had said to even attempt to deny it.

During the remainder of the drive to Granada, Raul turned
their conversation to impersonal topics so Juliet had relaxed somewhat
by the time they reached the gallery. Even Jimena Ruiz's disparaging
attitude didn't upset her unduly. Elegantly chic in a scarlet silk
blouse and expensively tailored natural linen skirt, the older woman
smiled rather snidely as her cold brown eyes flicked over Juliet's
plain denim sundress. Not bothering to speak, she simply acknowledged
Juliet with a curt nod, then latched on to Raul's right arm and with a
proprietorial air, hauled him into the office in the rear of the
gallery.

Waiting there was Luis Diego, the talented young artist
Raul had talked to at Janine Elcano's party. He didn't speak English so
Raul introduced him to Juliet in Spanish. Catching the word
novia
,
knowing it meant fiancée, Juliet experienced a curiously warming sense
of belonging, which didn't diminish even as Jimena bristled almost
visibly beside her. Besides, Luis Diego nodded and smiled at her with
frank admiration, as if he understood perfectly why Raul planned to
marry her. As he lifted one small hand and kissed it gallantly, Juliet
smiled, partially because his clipped black mustache tickled her skin
but mainly because he was such a charming young man.

After all the social pleasantries had been taken care of,
conversation turned to Diego's paintings. Understanding no more than
every other word of the rapid-fire Spanish the other three were
speaking, Juliet decided to browse through the gallery. Yet, as soon as
she stepped quietly out of the office, she was halted by Raul, who
caught one of her hands in both his.

"We must start those Spanish lessons soon," he declared
softly, his darkening gaze capturing hers. "I don't want you to feel
excluded from this discussion simply because Luis can't speak English."

His seemingly genuine concern for her feelings touched her
deeply and the love she felt for him intensified with astonishing
fervor. A soft radiance illuminated her golden amber eyes as she shook
her head, smiling slightly. "I don't feel excluded, Raul, really."

The slow answering smile he gave curved his sensuously
carved mouth, then he released her hand almost reluctantly and left her
to go back to Luis Diego.

The main room of the gallery was circular with a gleaming
marble tiled floor and off-white walls that didn't distract attention
from the paintings displayed on them. While Raul and
Luis
discussed the works they would exhibit in Luis's first private showing
at the gallery in two weeks, Juliet wandered around, pausing now and
then to more closely examine a painting or sculpture that caught her
eye. It was as she was admiring the vibrant colors of a painting of
three children playing in a garden that Jimena came out of the office to
join her, her high-heeled shoes rapping sharply on the marble floor.

Ignoring Juliet's questioning glance, she immediately
launched into a mile-a-minute monologue in Spanish, accompanying it
with exaggerated hand gestures. She was speaking much more rapidly than
she usually did, apparently in a deliberate attempt to make Juliet feel
rather stupid. Recognizing only an occasional word, Juliet lifted her
hands, halting Jimena's tirade midstream, then smiled politely. "If you
would try to speak a bit more slowly and more clearly, I think I might
be able to understand what you're saying."

Jimena snorted indelicately and folded her arms across her
chest. "You Americans are all alike, are you not? You expect everyone
everywhere to accommodate you. But I do not feel like accommodating
you, Señorita McKay. You are in my country and if you are too lazy to
try to understand the Spanish language, then that is your problem, not
mine."

"But I am trying to improve my Spanish," Juliet replied
flatly, striving hard to control her rising impatience. "That's why I
asked you to speak more slowly but if you'd rather not go to the
trouble, then that's fine with me. I'm sure I can find other people
who'd be willing to be more cooperative and understanding."

Jimena snorted again, her eyes glittering malevolently.
"You may gain the cooperation of shopkeepers and other such peasants,
señorita, but do not expect Raul's friends and family to be so
accommodating. You will be an outsider in their circles and they will
resent you from the beginning for trapping Raul into marrying you. His
bride should be Spanish and from a family as distinguished as his own.
None of his friends or family is happy that he is being forced into a
marriage with you—an American with red hair and pale skin."

Recognizing Jimena's jealous motivation in lashing out at
her, Juliet gave a careless shrug. "I didn't realize Raul's friends and
family had authorized you to be their spokesperson, and maybe they
haven't. I suspect you're only expressing your own personal opinion."

Her calm only served to provoke Jimena further, "
Imbecil
!"
she spat out disgustedly. "You are too stupid to see that Raul is only
marrying you because honor demands it. He will not be happy with you.
He will only tolerate you and you will never be part of his life. His
friends will never accept you and both he and his grandmother are
probably sick at the thought of
you
providing a
Valaquez heir. Valaquez men have always married Spanish girls and had
fine dark Andalusian babies. But you with your red hair and white skin
will not be able to give him such children, will you?"