The Spaniard's Kiss Read online

  “Actually,” she said, with as much dignity as she could muster, “I think I’ll swim for a little while longer.”

  Without waiting for an answer, she took a deep breath and dived.

  When she finally came up for air, he was gone.

  Chapter Three

  How had she let things come this far?

  Bella rested her head against the soft leather seats of the limousine and stared out the window, fingers clasped in her lap. They were driving through London, and as the city closed around them, a wave of panic spiraled up inside her.

  “You have an appointment at the hairdresser’s at ten tomorrow morning, then a meeting with your personal shopper at—”

  Personal shopper?

  “Please,” Bella interrupted. “Stop right there.”

  She’d been listening to her companion drone on for the last half hour. Enough was enough.

  “Is there a problem with your itinerary, Mrs. Sinclair?”

  She cast the woman a sideways glance. She was around Bella’s age, but that was the only similarity.

  “Sorry,” she said. “Just exactly who are you?” Bella was pretty sure the woman had introduced herself at the airport, but she’d been distracted at the time.

  “I’m Sally—your PA.”

  “My PA?”

  “Personal assistant. Anything you need, just let me know, and I’ll sort it out.”

  Bella frowned. Did everyone think she was incapable of looking after herself? “I’m not helpless. I think if I need anything, I’m probably capable of getting it for myself.”

  She turned back to the window.

  The past week had been surreal, everything organized for her down to her plane ticket and ride to the airport. Over the last two years, she’d become so used to coping on her own that the novelty of not having to think for herself had caught her by surprise, and she’d allowed herself to be carried along with the flow.

  She’d considered putting the farm on the market, but in the end she’d decided she might need a hideaway if everything went to crap. So she’d closed the house up instead and asked her neighbor to keep an eye on the place. She’d sell it in the autumn as she’d originally planned, though she was trying not to think about that too much. The place had so many happy memories. But she’d need the money. Finally, she’d said her good-byes, and managed to avoid thinking about the future and what she was doing.

  Then she’d boarded the plane. As she settled into her luxurious first-class seat, she’d been engulfed by a wave of panic so intense it would have brought her to her feet had she not been securely fastened in. The following three hours had dragged with nothing to occupy her but thoughts of Rafe and the deal they’d made.

  Why had he agreed? After the kiss, she’d believed he wanted her. But the more she’d thought about it, the more her crazy brain had convinced her that she was totally deluded. She’d known him for so many years, and he’d never shown even a glimmer of interest.

  Was this some kind of misguided loyalty to Gary? Was this just another way of looking after her? Had she actually convinced him she’d have a relationship with anyone just to get a baby? Surely he knew her better than that.

  By the time they started the descent into London, she’d come to her senses. She’d tell him the deal was off, and they could have a good laugh about it. Then with any luck she’d be able to get a flight straight back to Spain. She could lick her wounds for a little while and then go back to her original plans.

  A plea of temporary insanity was her best bet, and she practiced the words she’d say to Rafe, running them through her mind over and over again.

  What can I say? I’m crazy? Sorry for the inconvenience…

  Except when she disembarked from the plane, he wasn’t there.

  Instead, she’d been met by little Ms. Efficiency, with her smart gray business suit and matching briefcase. And despite the fact that Bella had been about to tell Rafe she’d rethought the whole thing, a wave of very unwelcome disappointment engulfed her at his absence.

  Engrossed in trying to analyze her feelings, somehow, she’d ended up in the back of a limousine heading through London. Now all this talk of hairdressers and PAs was doing her head in. Why the hell would Rafe set her up with a PA?

  “Can I look at that?” Bella reached for the tablet computer. For a moment, Sally’s fingers tightened, and it looked like they were about to descend into an undignified scuffle in the back of the limo. Bella raised one eyebrow, and the other woman relinquished her hold, albeit with obvious reluctance.

  She ran her eyes down her “itinerary.” “Is he crazy?” she asked. “I’m not doing all this stuff.” She thought for a moment. “Did Rafe say I needed all this?” She wasn’t perfect, and he had said she was a mess, but it sort of hurt that he’d want to change her so drastically.

  “No. He just told me to organize some things for you. But he did mention you’d been living in the middle of nowhere and you might enjoy some pampering and so on.”

  Would she? She’d never been pampered before. Neither her father nor Gary had been the pampering type. But that was beside the point. Bella handed the tablet back. “I don’t think so.”

  “What about the personal shopper? Mr. Sanchez was adamant you’d want clothes.”

  Bella glanced down at herself. She was dressed in her best jeans, maybe a little threadbare but no actual holes, her work boots, a T-shirt, and one of her dad’s old army shirts, with its sergeant’s stripes, over the top. Not glamorous, but perfectly adequate. And while she did need to sort out some new things for when she went job-hunting, that wasn’t the point.

  “I don’t want Rafe buying me anything.”

  “Actually, there’s already quite a lot of stuff at the hotel. It started to arrive a couple of days ago.” Sally tapped something into the tablet before looking back at Bella. “You know, you should feel honored. Mr. Sanchez is a busy man.”

  “Hmm. ‘Honored’ isn’t quite the word I would use.”

  Confused. Disoriented. Insane.

  Bella regarded the other woman curiously. “Do you do this often?” she asked. “I mean, is this like a full-time job—looking after Rafe’s…girlfriends?” She wasn’t actually his girlfriend, but explaining what she was would take way too much time.

  “No, this is the first time. I work in the office. I’m sort of PA to Mr. Sanchez’s PA.”

  “Why do I get the special treatment?”

  Sally looked at Bella over the top of her tablet, and for the first time she grinned. “You’re not much like his usual girlfriends.”

  “I bet,” Bella muttered. “So what are they usually like?”

  “Sophisticated, perfectly groomed, glamorous—”

  Everything I’m not.

  Bella held up a hand. “Okay, enough.” But she couldn’t resist one more question. She’d always been curious about Rafe’s love life—it was just so…prolific, and he’d usually told her to mind her own business when she’d teased him about it. “I bet they’re all supermodels and actresses, aren’t they?”

  “Actually, no. Mr. Sanchez prefers more mature, successful career women. The last one was a criminal lawyer—quite scary.” She frowned. “Though she was over a year ago now. Maybe his tastes have changed.”

  “Really?” The information surprised her, though why, she didn’t know. Sighing, she gestured to the tablet. “It’s not going to happen, you know.”

  “Not even the clothes?”

  Bella shook her head.

  “I’ll probably get the sack,” Sally said.

  “I’ll tell him it’s not your fault.”

  “Thank you. That reminds me…” She opened her briefcase and took out a phone. “I’ve put Mr. Sanchez’s number on speed dial, but I suggest you only phone him in absolute emergencies. Mr. Sanchez is a—”

  “—busy man. I got that bit.”

  Bella took the phone and stared at it for a moment. She would have preferred to do this face-to-face and without an audience.
But if she got through to him now, there was still time to turn the limo around and go straight back to the airport. She hit speed dial. It rang a couple of times before it was picked up.

  “Querida.” The voice was low, husky, and instantly recognizable. He’d never called her querida before. Why would he? Did he know it was her? Or was this the number he gave to all his girlfriends?

  “It’s Bella,” she said, just in case.

  He chuckled. “I know.”

  Now that she had him, she wasn’t sure how to start. “Did I interrupt anything?”

  “Nothing important. I was asleep.”

  Bella frowned. “You’re in bed?”

  “That’s where people usually sleep.”

  “But it’s only seven o’clock.” Wasn’t he supposed to be a busy man?

  “Not in Hong Kong.”

  He was in Hong Kong? It was half a world away. She gripped the phone tighter in her hand, not sure what to say next. Closing her eyes, her mind instantly filled with an image of Rafe sprawled across black silk sheets like some sort of Playgirl centerfold. She opened her eyes, took a deep breath.

  “So you’re in bed, then?” Stupid question.

  “Si, querida—dreaming of you.” She heard a faint thread of amusement running through his voice. “Do you want to know what I’m wearing?”

  She thought for too long about her answer—before the words left her mouth, he continued.

  “Nada.” His voiced dropped to a low murmur. “Nothing,” he added, obviously in case she didn’t understand. Or maybe he was just trying to fluster her or frighten her off. In which case, he was doing a hell of a good job. Time to tell him he didn’t need to bother—she’d managed all on her own.

  “Really?” She tried for cool and failed. The sound of his soft laughter caressed her sensitive ear. Even his laugh was sexy. How had she never noticed that before? Shivers rippled through her body, and she squirmed on the leather seat. A small sound from beside her reminded her she wasn’t alone. This was so not the right time to start acknowledging Rafe’s sexy side. She doubted there would ever be a right time for that.

  She glanced across at Sally. The other woman was staring out of the window, her fingers drumming on the edge of the tablet clutched tight to her chest.

  Time to take control of the conversation. “Look,” she said to Rafe. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “I’m not. So, querida, are you alone?”

  She shook her head. Then realized he couldn’t see her. “No, actually I have my new PA with me.”

  “Get rid of her.”

  “Not really an option unless you want me to toss her out of a moving vehicle.”

  He sighed down the phone line. “I’m sorry I wasn’t at the airport. I meant to be there, but I was delayed.”

  “You did?”

  “Yes, but I’m coming back tomorrow.”

  “You are?”

  “I fly back first thing in the morning.”

  “You do?”

  “Si. Now I suggest you let me rest and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “You will?”

  “I will. Good night, querida.”

  She heard the click as he disconnected. For a moment, she sat with the phone still pressed to her ear. Then she placed it gently on her lap and rubbed her forehead.

  Well, that had gone well.

  “Sexy” Rafe was messing with her head.

  What had happened to “taking things slowly?” And “just being friends?” Obviously, she wasn’t the only one a little confused about where they were going with this “relationship.”

  She turned to look at Sally, who stared back at her, wide-eyed. Bella ignored the look, took the tablet from the other woman’s hands, and fanned herself.

  “Hot in here, isn’t it?”

  …

  What the hell was he doing?

  He rubbed his forehead to ease the exhaustion and jet lag tugging at his brain. If he had any sense, he’d be heading back to his house and his own bed. Somehow it hadn’t worked out that way, and he found himself instructing his driver to take him to Bella’s hotel.

  Traveling through the silent streets, he pondered the long and entirely unproductive conversation he’d had with his lawyer on the phone that morning. John was a friend as well as his legal adviser, and he wasn’t happy with this baby deal. And Rafe couldn’t tell him that the whole thing was a ruse and he had no intention of having a baby with Bella. With anyone, for that matter.

  He’d gotten the impression John thought he was going through some sort of premature midlife crisis. That he needed a child to fulfill him, or leave everything to, or…

  John had gone to great lengths to warn Rafe of the repercussions of allowing a woman to have his baby and latch onto his life and his money. He was right. Not the money—Bella didn’t have a mercenary bone in her body. But pretending he could give her a baby had been a moment of madness. He had no right to lead her on with promises he’d never fulfill. He could see that now.

  While she’d said they were making an honest exchange—her body for his sperm—he was actually being far from honest. But he couldn’t let her go through with that with someone else. He’d promised Gary he’d look after her, but it was more than that. The need to protect her drove him, and every instinct screamed she was making a huge mistake, moving too fast in an attempt to fill the void left by losing Gary and the baby. But there were other things in life, and perhaps spending time in the city might help her remember there was a great big world to explore, and he was more than willing to be her guide.

  He sighed. He’d talk to her, explain he’d had a rethink and the whole thing was impossible. She’d hopefully reached the same conclusion herself. She wasn’t stupid—far from it.

  Pushing the key card into the lock, Rafe paused. He stared at the closed door. It was three in the morning.

  He really shouldn’t be here.

  Control was slipping away from him along with his sanity, but since he’d spoken to her yesterday, he hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything else. Also, he was feeling uneasy about that telephone conversation. He was supposed to be keeping their relationship strictly friendly, and he suspected he might be sending out a few mixed messages. But she’d caught him unawares, woken him from a particularly vivid dream…

  He’d just check that she was okay, that she had everything she needed and wasn’t homesick.

  Had she missed him? Purely as a friend, of course.

  His flight had been delayed again because of weather. Normally, such delays didn’t faze him. He just used the time to catch up on work, but today he’d been too keyed up to concentrate.

  Closing his eyes, he imagined her waiting for him just on the other side of this door, and a rising sense of anticipation banished the exhaustion clouding his brain.

  He pushed the door open and dropped his overnight bag on the floor. He didn’t switch on the light. No doubt at this hour she’d be asleep, and he didn’t want to disturb her. He’d just check to make sure she was okay and then catch a nap on the couch. After tapping lightly on the bedroom door, he eased it open and stepped inside. The room was dominated by a massive four-poster.

  A massive empty four-poster.

  He frowned, reached over, and switched on the lamp. There was definitely no beautiful woman curled up sleeping, and a stab of something hit him in the gut. Disappointment? Worry? The new and unexpected feelings gave him pause.

  Where the hell is she?

  He glanced around the room. The place was littered with clothes and shoes, empty bags and boxes spilling their contents over every available surface as though some sort of mini tornado had hit. He picked up a scrap of black silk and lace, and then tossed it down. He hadn’t ordered this much stuff. Had he? He’d never in his life bought clothes for a woman before—it had been a new experience—and perhaps he’d been carried away.

  He had a notion that perhaps “friends” didn’t buy each other underwear, but he pushed the thought aside. They w
ere just a welcome-back-to-England present. Bella didn’t need to know that he’d been unable to stop his imagination running rampant when he envisaged her wearing them.

  He tried the bathroom door; it opened, but there was no one inside.

  Where was she?

  Doubt nagged at his mind. She wouldn’t leave, would she?

  He flicked off the lamp, left the bedroom, and returned to the sitting area, this time switching on the main light. He saw her straightaway, curled up on one of the huge scarlet sofas. An empty bottle of wine and a glass stood on the coffee table beside her, with a big red-and-white paper tub labeled “popcorn” next to it. He peered in—it was also empty.

  Rafe moved to stand over her. Enveloped in one of the hotel’s fluffy white robes, she was covered almost completely, though he could see one bare toe peeking out from where her feet were tucked under a cushion. Her arms wrapped around a second cushion, and her long red hair was loose, obscuring her face. He crouched beside the sofa and reached out, stroking the hair back, and something twisted inside him. She’d been crying. Tears stained her face, and a wave of some unidentifiable emotion flooded over him.

  He wanted to take her in his arms, comfort her. Instead, he rubbed the pad of his thumb across her cheek as if to wipe away her sadness along with the tears. Her face was bare of makeup, her lush pink lips slightly open, and desire stirred to life low down in his body. He gave in to the urge, leaned in close, and kissed her briefly, tasting the sweetness of toffee popcorn on her lips. She didn’t wake, but rolled onto her back and hugged the cushion tighter to her chest.

  “Gary?” she murmured.

  Rafe’s hand dropped away as though he’d been burned.

  Gary wouldn’t be against a relationship between them, but Rafe had felt guilty about his desire for this woman for so long, it was impossible to turn off.

  He stood abruptly as exhaustion washed over him. He needed a shower and a bed. Instead, he shrugged out of his jacket, tossed it onto the back of the sofa, and sank into the chair opposite where he could watch her sleep.

  …

  Bella blinked. Something woke her. She ran a hand through her hair and then rubbed her eyes. The light was on. She was sure she’d turned it off, but her brain was fuzzy.