Valaquez Bride (6 page)

Recognizing the ruthless intent in his eyes, Juliet
twisted and squirmed futilely in an attempt to escape his painful grip
but was quickly subdued. Raul's arms encircled her waist, one hand
moving up to tangle in the thickness of her hair, tilting her head back
as he lowered his own.

"No!" she gasped softly. "Raul, don't!"

"A warning, Juliet," he whispered huskily as his mouth
descended.

Expecting brutality, she was not prepared for a gently
brushing kiss that unnerved her completely. Instinct made her struggle
again but Raul slid his long fingers through her hair, clasping the
back of her head, holding her fast. Her heart jumped and her legs went
weak beneath her as his teeth closed tenderly on the full soft curve of
her lower lip, tugging, nibbling until her mouth opened slightly with
her quickly drawn breath. Suddenly, she was gathered close against him,
her lips captured with hard marauding swiftness. And the aching thrill
that quickened inside her startled her so much that she propelled
herself away from him, her cheeks crimson, her eyes wide with alarm.

"Remember, that was just a warning. And I think you
realize that it could have become the danger itself," he muttered
roughly, his eyes dark with indefinable emotions as he raked his
fingers through his thick hair. "I don't think you're a very faithful
girl, Juliet. First you betrayed Pablo. And just now, I think you might
have wanted to betray your rock singer. Maybe you will next time. And
let me assure you there will be a next time if you give me any trouble
while you're here. What just happened is nothing compared to what will
happen if you try to see your boyfriend, knowing Will doesn't want you
to. So, if you know what's good for you, you'll start thinking of your
uncle for a change, instead of acting like a selfish, unfeeling little
brat. You'll just have to survive without your lover for a while. But
the sacrifice won't kill you."

Juliet blanched. Embarrassment and resentment exploded in
her and she could take no more of his abuse and hypocrisy. Bitterly
ashamed of her insane response to his kiss, she had to lash out at him.
"Lover! You think Benny is my lover? Well, you're absolutely crazy!
Within a month after we left Granada last year, he met and married a
girl who happens to be very pregnant right now, seven months pregnant
in fact. So it isn't likely that Benny's my lover, now is it,
you—you…" Barely pausing to catch her breath, she
swung back into her tirade with a vengeance. "And don't you dare ever
call me unfeeling again. You—you hypocrite! How can you call
me unfeeling?
I'm
the one who didn't want a cold
arranged marriage! And Pablo knew that. I didn't betray him! I told him
from the beginning; I wasn't romantically interested in him but he
wouldn't leave me alone. He kept coming to see me and finally Uncle
Will even got in on the act. He decided an arranged marriage made sense
and you,
you
agreed to that! And you have the
nerve to call
me
unfeeling! When I get married
it'll be for love so that makes me more feeling than you'll ever be,
you cold, emotionless…"

Unable to think of any insults vile enough to hurl at him,
she turned and ran to the stairs, making it halfway up before Raul
could react and call after her, "Juliet, stop!" She heard his heavy
footfalls as he took the steps two at a time and fear of how he might
retaliate made adrenaline pump through her. She sped on breathlessly,
auburn hair streaming out behind her as she raced frantically to her
room.

He didn't catch her. As he reached the landing, she was
careening into her bedroom, slamming the door and locking it with
violently shaking fingers. She collapsed back against the cool wooden
panels, her breath coming fitfully. She pressed her palms against the
madly racing pulses in her temples, tensing as she waited, expecting
Raul to try to force his way in. But after a few minutes had passed and
there was only silence in the hall outside, she walked across the room
and flopped down on her bed, all energy depleted.

"God, what a disaster," she groaned aloud. Raul thought
she was a selfish spoiled brat and, despite her attraction to him, she
thought he was a cold emotionless tyrant. Now they were stuck here
together in the same house and Uncle Will had actually asked Raul to
take care of her. That was like asking a lion to take care of a lamb
and though the entire situation struck Juliet as rather ironically
amusing, somehow, at the moment, she just didn't feel much like
laughing.

Juliet spent a restless night. It was nearly dawn when she
drifted off to sleep and when she awoke, bright sunlight was streaming
through her wide windows and across her bed. Her eyes felt positively
gritty from lack of rest and though she was tempted to thrust her head
beneath her pillow and stay in bed, she swung her feet onto the floor
and got up instead. Even after a shower, she wasn't particularly eager
to begin the day. The hours would pass too quickly; Raul would come
back from the gallery this evening and she would have to face him
again. If only she hadn't allowed him to goad her into such an
emotional reaction last night, she would feel far less embarrassed now.
His cool and haughty accusation that she was selfish and unfeeling
should have been met with an equally haughty response, as if it didn't
bother her one whit what he thought of her. It had been useless to try
to defend herself anyhow; Raul would never believe she hadn't
encouraged Pablo's attention last year.

"Oh, so who cares what he thinks," she muttered weakly as
she shed her robe. After putting on a cool grass green sundress with
narrow corded straps and slipping on cork-heeled straw sandals, Juliet
went downstairs for breakfast. She wasn't really hungry but she knew if
she refused to eat, Rosita would lecture her all day and she certainly
was in no mood for that. Intent on picking a short length of thread
from the skirt of her dress, she had her head bent as she approached
the dining room and when she looked up again as she reached the
doorway, she came to an abrupt halt, her heart lurching. Raul stood at
the sideboard, pouring coffee from an electric percolator into a
delicate china cup. She had thought he would have already left for the
gallery so finding him here was a disheartening way to begin the day.
Feeling an intense need for more time to prepare herself to face him,
she started to turn and flee back upstairs but as he looked up and saw
her in the doorway, she realized she was trapped. Though her stomach
contracted, she resolutely squared her shoulders and stepped into the
spacious dining room.

Raul's dark gaze swept slowly over her, then he extended
the lean brown hand that held the cup. "Coffee, Juliet?" he inquired as
nonchalantly as though last night's confrontation had never occurred.
He gave her one of his slow lazy smiles that had always set her pulses
pounding. "You take it with sugar. Right?"

She nodded, surprised he had ever noticed and as she was
forced to go to him and take the cup he held out, uneasiness mingled
with confusion. His hand was absolutely steady but hers shook and when
his
rough fingertips grazed hers as she took the delicate china saucer, her
trembling caused the cup to rattle conspicuously. She blushed. He
smiled almost indulgently, adding considerably to her bewilderment.
That smile reminded her of the man she had liked too much last year,
and not wanting to be reminded, she moved to the long gleaming mahogany
table and started to take a seat. There was no opportunity to pull out
a chair, however. Raul stepped close to perform that courtesy for her.
Sinking down onto the embroidered silk seat, she eyed him suspiciously
through the thick long fringe of her lashes. He was being far too nice
and she had no idea why. It would have been gratifying to think he had
actually believed her last night but she didn't really imagine that he
had. Valaquez family ties were too strong to allow him to believe her
rather than his own brother. So why was he being so pleasant this
morning, she wondered uneasily, unable to relax. Her fingers trembled
as she unfolded her linen napkin and she found herself sitting stiffly
and unnaturally. She conquered the temptation to look at Raul as he sat
down at the head of the table, to her right. When his knee brushed her
own, she hastily tucked her feet beneath her chair, chiding herself
vehemently for the shiver of awareness that danced over her skin with
the brief physical contact.

Feigning a great interest in the coffee she unnecessarily
stirred, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair, wishing she had waited
just a while longer to come downstairs. If she had, perhaps Raul would
have already left for the gallery. But she hadn't waited and, now,
sensing she was being watched, she dragged her gaze up from the coffee
still swirling in her cup.

A guarded look came over Raul's magnetic green eyes,
although he smiled slightly, etching attractive creases into his lean
cheeks beside his mouth. "What is on your agenda today?" he asked, his
deep voice pleasantly modulated, conveying none of the animosity it had
conveyed with every word last night. "Do you have any special plans?"

For a long moment Juliet could only stare at him,
overwhelmingly aware of how good he looked. The crisp white shirt he
wore with the gray vested suit accentuated his bronzed skin and thick
dark hair, hair she had often wished she could run her fingers through.
A sudden desire to reach out and touch it now surged through her but
she suppressed that unreasonable longing and managed to shake her head.
"No special plans, except to visit Uncle Will, of course." She lifted
her shoulders in a slight shrug. "Other than that, I'm not sure what
I'll do. Maybe I'll be industrious and go through my closet. I need to
pick out what I want to give to charity and what I'll want to take with
me when I leave Granada."

"You'll have plenty of opportunity to do that later since
you won't be leaving for quite some time," Raul declared flatly, rising
lithely to his feet to walk to the sideboard again. He didn't elaborate
on his imperious statement; he didn't need to and a couple of minutes
later, he came back to the table again, placing a small plate
containing two hot rolls and curls of butter on the table before
Juliet. Then, he sat down again with his own plate of shirred eggs and
thin strips of aromatic bacon.

Juliet stared at the rolls, a somewhat per-verse
rebelliousness rising in her. "I'm not hungry."

"Eat anyway," he commanded blithely. "You're thinner than
you were last year."

As his frankly appraising gaze passed over her, Juliet
tensed. "Despite spending most of your life in England, you're still
very Spanish, aren't you? Now you've even adopted the Spanish penchant
for plump women."

Raul laughed softly at her indignant tone. "Few men of any
nationality want to hold women shaped like broom handles in their arms."

"I have considerably more shape than a broom handle,"
Juliet muttered defensively, then blushed as she belatedly recognized
the intimation in his statement. "Besides, I don't see that my shape is
any of your concern anyhow. You won't be holding me in your arms."

"You think not? We'll see," he answered, his tone
evocatively soft. "But we'll settle that difference of opinion some
other time. For now, just eat."

Although Juliet felt like refusing flatly to take one
bite, the aroma of Rosita's freshly baked rolls was tempting. She
stared at the plate before her but at last, the demand for nourishment
made by her healthy young body overcame her stubbornness. Buttering a
roll, she glanced at Raul out of the corner of her eye then willed
herself to ignore the slight triumphant smile that tugged at the
corners of his strong yet sensuously shaped mouth. By the time she had
nibbled her way through one roll, Raul had finished his meal. He leaned
back in his chair and lit a cigarette without asking her permission,
probably remembering that she had never minded his occasional smoking
last year. Knowing he was watching her, feeling almost adolescently
self-conscious because of it, Juliet folded her fine linen napkin, then
clasped her hands together in her lap. The silence in the room was more
than a little disconcerting and she wished he would say something,
anything, to ease her tension.

Finally, he did speak. "You'll be needing a car while
you're here and I remember how you disliked driving Will's old Bentley.
So I'll have the Lotus Esprit driven into town for you to use."

"That's not necessary, thank you," she responded stiffly,
wanting no favors from him. "I don't mind driving the Bentley all that
much."

"The Bentley is too unwieldy; you'll be much more at ease
driving the Esprit so I'll call out to Casa Valaquez today and have it
brought here," Raul repeated firmly. "It's useless to argue, Juliet.
I've decided."

Juliet sniffed. His attempts to seem friendly weren't very
convincing after the insults he had heaped on her last night and she
wondered exactly what he was up to. If he thought offering her the use
of his car would lull her into believing he suddenly wanted to be
chummy, then he had better think again. She wasn't quite that gullible,
even if he did possess a certain charm that was very nearly
irresistible. Besides, he couldn't tell her it was useless to argue.
She'd argue if she wanted to and her eyes issued a challenge as they
met his.

"You're issuing your royal decrees again and I told you
last night that I won't tolerate being bossed around," she declared
recklessly. "So I won't borrow your car and that's final. I might bang
it up and I don't want that responsibility. At least with Uncle Will's
heavy old Bentley, I could probably drive into a brick wall and never even put
a dent in it."

Raul's hand came out but even as Juliet flinched and drew
away, his fingertips feathered coaxingly across her high cheekbones
then up to trace her slightly arched brows. "You'll enjoy driving the
Esprit, Juliet," he said softly yet insistently. "And since I rarely
drive it myself, it sits in the garage. So you'd be doing me a favor by
using it. It isn't good for any car to sit too long without being
driven."