Wed For The Spaniard's Redemption

But the car accident which had taken her parents’ lives had left Juliet with serious injuries—including a shattered thigh bone. The months she’d spent in hospital had intensified her sense of isolation and loneliness.

She had been painfully naïve when she’d met Bryan Westfield, soon after she’d moved out to Australia to stay with her aunt Vivian and uncle Carlos. She’d been looking for someone to fill the hole in her heart left by her parents’ deaths, and blonde good-looking Bryan had seemed like ‘the one’—until she’d realised he had only wanted sex.

‘You’re not the first young woman to have your heart broken and be left with a baby and you won’t be the last,’ Aunt Vivian had said briskly when Juliet had admitted that she was pregnant.

Her aunt had meant well but Juliet had felt stupid, as well as bitterly hurt by Bryan’s rejection, and she’d vowed never to lay herself open to that level of pain again. It made her reaction to Rafael’s undeniable sexual magnetism all the more confusing.

The look of distaste that had flickered over his face when she’d opened the door to him wearing her cleaning overalls had made her shrivel inside. She knew from photographs of him in gossip magazines—invariably with a blonde glamour model or actress hanging on to him—that she was as far from his ideal woman as the earth was from Mars. But his lack of interest in her made it easier to consider his proposition.

‘You said I would be your wife in name only? Does that mean the marriage would not be...’ she hesitated ‘...consummated?’

She was thankful that her scarlet cheeks were hidden in the dark interior of the car. If he laughed she would die of mortification.

‘Physical intimacy between us will not be necessary,’ he said coolly.

He did not actually state that he wouldn’t touch her with a barge pole but the message was clear. Juliet swallowed, feeling ashamed that the gorgeous man beside her found her repellent. They were both wearing jeans, but his were undoubtedly a designer brand, and she’d noted when he had walked around to his side of the car how the denim clung to his lean hips. His tan leather jacket looked as if it had cost the earth, while her clothes came from a discount store and her boots had seen three winters.

With a sigh, she turned her head and stared out of the window.

‘We’re here.’

Rafael’s voice pulled Juliet from her thoughts and she discovered that he had turned the car onto the driveway in front of a large and very beautiful house.

‘Where is “here”?’ she asked when he switched off the engine.

‘My home in England—Ferndown House. It’s too dark to see now, but the house backs on to Hampstead Heath.’

Juliet looked down at the rip in her jeans. ‘I suppose you don’t want to be seen with me in public when I look like this,’ she said flatly.

He turned his head towards her but she could not bring herself to look at him and see his disdainful expression.

After a moment he sighed. ‘I brought you to my home because we will be assured of privacy while we talk, which we would not be in a bar or restaurant. There is no shame in being poor. It is obvious that you work hard to provide for your daughter, but I can help you. We can help each other. Now, come inside and meet my housekeeper. Alice has prepared dinner for us.’

If Juliet could have designed her dream home Ferndown House would have been perfect in every way. From the outside it was a gothic-style Victorian property, but inside it had been cleverly remodelled and refurbished into a sophisticated modern house which still managed to retain many original period features.

She caught her breath when Rafael showed her one huge room, with a stunning parquet floor and floor-to-ceiling mirrors on one wall.

‘The previous owners enjoyed hosting parties in here, but I don’t entertain very often and the room is not used much,’ he told her.

The room would be an ideal dance studio, Juliet thought. It was her dream to one day own a ballet school, and she visualised ballet barres along the walls and a box of the powdered chalk called rosin on the floor, for dancers to rub onto their pointe shoes to help stop them slipping.

She followed Rafael along the hall and looked into another reception room, a study, and a library that overlooked the garden. Outside lighting revealed a large, pretty space with wide lawns, where Poppy would love to play. Juliet gave a faint sigh, thinking of the couple of rusty swings in the playground on the housing estate where she sometimes took her daughter.

Upstairs on the second floor they walked past what she guessed was the master bedroom, with a four-poster bed. Juliet carefully avoided Rafael’s gaze as she wondered how many women had spent the night with him in that enormous bed.

‘There is a nursery along here,’ he said, leading the way along the corridor. He opened a door into a large room with painted murals of fairies on the walls and laughed at her startled expression. ‘I’m not planning to fill the nursery with my own children, but my sister has four-year-old twin girls who sometimes come to stay here.’

They went back downstairs to the dining room, where a cheery fire burned in the hearth and velvet curtains were drawn across the windows.

‘You have a beautiful home,’ Juliet murmured when Rafael drew out a chair at the table and waited for her to sit down before he took his place opposite her.

He was silent while Alice served a first course of gooey baked brie with warm pears. Then the housekeeper left the main course on a heated trolley for them to serve themselves and Rafael poured wine.

‘If you agree to my proposition Ferndown House will be yours and your daughter’s home for the duration of our marriage. When, after a few months, the marriage is dissolved, five million pounds will be transferred into your bank account and you will be able to buy a property of your own. Have you any ideas about where you would like to live?’

‘Somewhere on the coast,’ she said instantly. ‘When I was a child my parents took me on holiday to Cornwall a few times. We stayed in a caravan next to the beach.’ Memories of a happy childhood full of love and laughter tugged on her heart. ‘I’ve always thought how wonderful it would be for Poppy to grow up by the sea.’

‘Agree to my deal and you can make your dreams reality,’ Rafael said in a softly persuasive tone.

Excitement fizzed inside Juliet, overriding the voice of caution in her head. With the money that Rafael was offering she could buy a little cottage with a garden and a sea view. She didn’t want a mansion—just a place that she and Poppy could call home. But what Rafael was asking was wrong, her conscience whispered. Marriage should be a life-long commitment. Her parents had enjoyed a happy marriage and, although Juliet had learned a harsh lesson with Bryan, she still hoped that one day she would fall in love with someone special who would love her in return.

She took a small sip of her wine, determined to keep her wits about her. ‘I’m curious to know why you need a wife so badly that you’re prepared to fork out five million pounds for one.’

‘My grandfather has demanded that I marry before he steps down as head of the Casillas Group and appoints me as CEO of the company and Chairman of the board of directors,’ Rafael said curtly. ‘The dual roles have been passed down to the eldest son for generations. My mother does not have any siblings, which means that I am the next firstborn male and I should be Hector’s successor. Dios, it is my birthright.’

He slapped his hand down on the table and Juliet flinched.

‘Why does your grandfather want you to marry?’

‘He disapproves of my lifestyle.’

She nodded. ‘You do have a reputation as a playboy, and your affair with the wife of a prominent politician was reported in most of today’s newspapers.’

‘I spent one night with Michelle two months ago. The paparazzi must have seen us leave the nightclub together and go to a hotel, but those pictures did not appear in the papers the next day.’ Rafael’s jaw hardened. ‘My guess is that someone paid the photographer to delay offering the pictures to the tabloids until the day the Casillas Group’s biggest-selling retail line Rozita launched a new bridal collection.’

Juliet stared at him. ‘Why would anyone do that?’

‘It could have been a competitor, hoping to damage the company’s reputation, or more likely someone who wanted to blacken my name and convince my grandfather that I would not be a responsible CEO.’

‘Do you have any idea who?’

‘In all probability it was someone on the Casillas Group’s board who does not support my claim to be Hector’s successor, or one of my relatives for the same reason.’

‘How awful that someone in your own family might have betrayed you,’ Juliet murmured. ‘Families are supposed to support one another.’

Rafael stared at her broodingly. ‘The pursuit of power is a ruthless game, with no place for weakness or emotions,’ he said harshly.

While he served their main course of chicken cooked in a creamy sauce Juliet played his words over in her mind and felt a little shiver run through her. She had no doubt that Rafael was ruthless, and he must be utterly determined to become CEO if he was prepared to pay such an incredible amount of money for a wife.

Could she do it? His proposition had seemed crazy at first, but now she understood that his grandfather was forcing Rafael to marry. What he was suggesting was a business deal, she told herself.

The chicken was delicious, and a welcome change from the cheap, microwavable ready meals she tended to live on because fresh, good-quality produce was so expensive. She concentrated on eating her dinner, glad of the distraction.

Rafael got up to throw another log on the fire. The flames crackled and an evocative scent of applewood filled the room. The wine, the food and the general ambience of the room was helping Juliet to relax, and she gave a soft sigh.

‘Can you honestly tell me that you’re not tempted?’

Rafael’s seductive voice curled around her. She took another sip of her wine.