Wed For The Spaniard's Redemption

‘I’ve heard through my cousin, who lives in Sydney, that Bryan is dating the daughter of a billionaire and he wants to marry her. Apparently his girlfriend can’t have children of her own because of a medical condition, but she desperately wants a child. My guess is that Bryan hopes to persuade his heiress to marry him if he can present her with a cute little daughter.’

Juliet bit her lip. ‘Eighteen months ago Poppy spent a few weeks in temporary foster care when I had to go into hospital. She was very happy staying with the lovely family who looked after her. But somehow Bryan has found out that Poppy was fostered and he’s using it as proof that I can’t give her a secure upbringing and she’ll be better off living with him.’

‘Couldn’t someone in your family have looked after your daughter while you were in hospital?’

The anger had gone from Rafael’s voice and the sexy huskiness of his accent sent a little tremor through Juliet.

‘My parents are dead and my only other relatives live in Australia. My aunt and uncle were kind to me when I stayed with them after my parents died, but they have busy lives and I try to manage on my own.’

‘Why are you short of money?’ Rafael turned his head towards her and Juliet felt his gaze sweep over her cap and apron. ‘I take it that you have a job? What do the initials LTG stand for?’

‘Lunch To Go is my sandwich business, which I co-own with my business partner. We’ve only been running for a year and our profit margins have been low while we have been getting established.’ She gave another sniff and crumpled the soggy tissue in her hand. ‘Things are finally looking up. But today I was called in by your HR manager and told that the contract we have to supply sandwiches to the Casillas Group’s staff will finish at the end of the week because a new staff canteen is to open.’

Rafael nodded. ‘When I established the London headquarters of the company it was always my plan to open a restaurant and a gym in the basement of the building for staff to use in their lunch break. The construction work took longer than anticipated and I asked HR to make a temporary alternative arrangement for staff to be able to buy their lunch from an outside source but still be subsidised by the company.’

‘I didn’t know about the staff restaurant,’ Juliet said dully.

She’d never been down to the basement level—although she had overheard a couple of secretaries talking about the new staff gym. Her contract with the Casillas Group only required her to be given a week’s notice.

‘Will losing the contract have an impact on your business?’

‘It will halve our profits,’ she admitted heavily. ‘I thought we could advertise for new customers at other offices—although a number of other food delivery companies have started up in this area, and the competition is high. And then I spoke to my business partner after my meeting and Mel told me she’s going to sell the bakery shop where we’re based. Her decision is for personal reasons—she and her husband want to move out of London. Mel owns the shop, and I can’t afford to buy it or rent a new premises.’

‘If your business closes what will you do?’

She shrugged. ‘I’ll have to look for another job, but I don’t have any qualifications, or training in a career, and it will be almost impossible to earn enough to cover childcare for Poppy.’

Juliet thought of the home study business degree she had started but had had to abandon because she hadn’t been able to afford the fees for the second year. That degree would have enabled her to find a better-paid job, or at least given her knowledge of the business strategies which would have been useful to develop Lunch To Go. But without Mel she simply could not manage, either financially or practically, to run the sandwich business.

Rafael was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and seemed to be deep in thought. He had beautiful hands. Juliet imagined his tanned hands sliding over her naked body, those long fingers curving around her breasts and caressing the sensitive peaks of her nipples. Heat swept through her and she was startled by her wayward thoughts.

Bryan had broken her heart when he’d dumped her the morning after she’d given her virginity to him. A month later, when she’d tearfully told him that she was pregnant with his baby, his cruel rejection of her and her unborn child had forced her to grow up fast. She had felt a fool for falling for his easy charm and had vowed never to be so trusting again.

Being a single mother had left her little time to meet men, and it was a shock to discover that she could still feel sexual awareness and desire. Perhaps she was attracted to Rafael because he was so far out of her league that there was no chance that anything would come of it—a bit like a teenager with a crush on a pop star they were never likely to meet in real life, Juliet thought ruefully.

‘I may be able to help you,’ Rafael said, jolting her out of her reverie.

Her heart leapt. If he agreed to allow her to continue selling sandwiches to his office staff her business might just survive.

‘Help me how?’

‘I have an idea that would resolve your financial worries and also be advantageous to me.’

Juliet stiffened. ‘What do you mean by “advantageous”?’

Was he suggesting what she thought he was? She knew that some of the women on the housing estate where she lived worked as prostitutes. Most of them were single mothers like her, struggling to feed their children on minimum wages. She didn’t judge them, but it wasn’t something she could ever imagine doing herself.

She put her hand on the door handle, ready to jump out of the car. ‘I won’t have sex with you for money,’ she said bluntly.

For a few seconds he looked stunned—and then he laughed. The rich sound filled the car and made Juliet think of golden sunshine. She felt as if it had been raining in her heart since her parents had died and she’d been left alone. How wonderful it would be to have someone to laugh with, be happy with.

With a jolt she realised that Rafael was speaking.

‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’

His slight emphasis on the word you made Juliet squirm with embarrassment, which intensified when he skimmed his gaze over her. His dismissive expression said quite clearly that he found her unattractive.

‘I have never had to pay for sex with any woman,’ he drawled. ‘What I am suggesting is a business proposition—albeit an unusual one.’

‘I make sandwiches for a living,’ she said flatly, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. ‘I can’t think what kind of business we could do together.’

‘I want you to be my wife. If you agree to marry me I will pay you five million pounds.’

CHAPTER TWO (#u9ea3567c-fc44-586d-b165-7e0376e05119)

‘VERY FUNNY,’ JULIET muttered, disappointment thickening her voice. ‘I’m not in the mood for jokes, Mr Mendoza-Casillas.’

‘Rafael,’ he corrected her. ‘And it’s not a joke. I need a wife. A temporary wife—in name only,’ he added, evidently reading the crucial question that had leapt into her mind. He stared at her broodingly. ‘You have admitted that being a single parent is a financial burden. What if, instead of struggling, you could live a comfortable life with your daughter without having to work?’

‘Some hope,’ she said ruefully. ‘I’d have to win the lottery to be able to do that.’

‘Consider me your winning ticket, chiquita.’

His sudden smile softened his chiselled features and stole Juliet’s breath. When he smiled he went from handsome to impossibly gorgeous. He reminded her of the male models on those TV adverts for expensive aftershaves—only Rafael was much more rugged and masculine.

She tore her eyes from him, conscious that her heart was beating at twice its normal rate. ‘You’re crazy,’ she told him flatly.

And so was she, to be still sitting in his car. Five million pounds! He couldn’t be serious. Or if he was serious there must be a catch. She felt hot, remembering his amused reaction to her suggestion that he was offering to pay her for sex. God, what had made her say that? Many of today’s newspapers had a photo on the front page of Rafael and a beautiful blonde woman with an eye-catching cleavage. Juliet glanced down at her shapeless figure. She looked like a stick insect compared to Rafael’s latest love interest.

‘If you need a wife why don’t you marry your girlfriend, whose picture is all over the front pages of the papers?’

‘For one thing, Michelle is already married—but even if she were free to marry me she would not be suitable. All of my lovers, past and current, would expect me to fall in love with them,’ he said drily.

He was so arrogant! She wanted to come back with a clever comment but she was mesmerised by the perfect symmetry of his angular features, which were softened a little by his blatantly sensual mouth.

‘But you’re not worried that I might fall in love with you?’ She’d intended to sound sarcastic, but instead her voice was annoyingly breathless.

‘I don’t recommend that you do,’ he said in a hard voice. ‘I do not believe in love,—or marriage, for that matter. I’m not crazy,’ he insisted. ‘I have a genuine reason for needing to be married.’

He swore when his phone rang, and then took his mobile out of his jacket pocket and cut the call.

‘We can’t talk now. I’ll meet you this evening and we can discuss my proposition.’

She shook her head. ‘I’m not interested.’

‘Not interested in earning yourself five million pounds for being my wife for a couple of months?’ He reached across her and put his hand over hers to prevent her from opening the car door. ‘At least give me a chance to explain, and then you can make up your mind whether I’m crazy or not. Although, frankly, you would be foolish to miss out on the chance to earn a life-changing amount of money. Think what you could do with five million pounds. You would never have to worry about the cost of buying your little girl a pair of shoes ever again.’

‘All right.’ Juliet released a shaky breath. He was relentlessly persuasive. She couldn’t think properly when his face was so close to hers that as he leaned across her body she was able to count his thick black eyelashes. ‘I’ll meet you to discuss your proposition, but I’m not saying that I’ll agree to it.’