CAROL MARINELLI - Spanish Escape - The Playboy of Puerto Banús / A Game of Vows / For the Sake of Their Son

He could not stand the thought of her in bed with him—could not bear to think about it. But when he did, Raúl frowned.

‘If you were with Gordon for money, how come you were trying to change the sheets before the maid got in.’

‘I was never with Gordon in that way. I just stood in for Ginny.’

‘You shared his bed,’ Raúl said. ‘And we all know his reputation…’

‘Unlike you, Gordon didn’t feel comfortable going to a wedding alone,’ Estelle said carefully.

‘So he paid you to look like his tart?’ Raúl checked. ‘What about Dario’s…?’ His voice trailed off and he frowned as he realised the lengths Gordon had gone to, then frowned a little more as realisation hit. ‘Is Gordon…?’ He didn’t finish the question—knew it was none of his business. ‘You needed the money to help out your brother?’

She conceded with a nod.

‘Estelle, it is not for me to question your reasons—’

‘Then don’t.’

Her warning did not stop him.

‘Andrew would not want it.’

‘Which is why he will never find out.’

‘I know that if I had a sister I would not want her—’

‘Don’t compare yourself to my brother. You don’t even have a sister, and the brother you do have you don’t want to know.’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’

‘We’re two very different people, Raúl. If I discovered that I had a brother or sister somewhere I’d be doing everything I could to find out about them, to meet them—not plotting to bring them down.’

‘I’m not plotting anything. I just don’t want him taking what is rightfully mine. Neither do I want to end up working alongside him.’

She looked at the seductive eyes that invited you only to bed, at the mouth that kissed so easily but insisted you did not get close.

‘You miss out on so much, Raúl.’

‘I miss out on nothing,’ Raúl said. ‘I have everything I want.’

‘You have everything money can buy,’ Estelle said, remembering the reason she was here. ‘Including me.’

When he kissed her it tasted of nothing. It tasted empty. It was a pale comparison to the kiss he had been the recipient of last night. And when he took her top off he knew she was faking it, knew she was thinking of the boat and of people watching, knew she was trying not to cry.

‘Not here,’ Raúl said for her.

‘Please, Raúl…’

Her mouth sought his. She was still playing the part, too inexperienced to understand that he knew her body lied.

He wanted it back, the intimacy of last night, which meant taking care of her.

For now.

Surely for a couple of days he could take care of her. They could just enjoy each other and break her in properly. The last thing he wanted was her tense and teary, feeling exposed.

He had glimpsed her toughness, admired the lengths she would go to for her family, and he believed her now—she did not want his love

‘Later.’ Raúl pulled his head back from her mouth. ‘I’m starving.’

He helped her with her bikini, used his chest as a shield as he did up the clasp, just in case any passing fish were having a peek, or telescopes were trained on them. But rather than making him feel irritated, her coyness now made him smile.

Especially when he thought of her unleashed.

‘Come on,’ Raúl said, despite the ache in his groin. ‘Let’s head back.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

‘WE WILL GO and shower and get dressed for dinner,’ Raúl said as they boarded and Alberto took the jet ski. ‘Do you want me to ask Rita to come down and do your hair?’

‘Rita?’

‘She is a masseuse and a beautician. If you want her to come and help just ask Alberto,’ Raúl said, heading off to the stateroom.

Estelle called him back. She could smell the food and was honestly starving. ‘Why do we have to get dressed for dinner?’ Estelle did not notice the twitch of his lips, though Alberto did. ‘It’s only us.’

‘On a yacht such as this one, when the chef…’ Raúl began. But he was torn, because etiquette often had no place on board and it seemed petty to put her right. ‘Very well.’ He turned to Alberto, who was already on to it.

‘I’ll let the chef know.’

They rinsed off under the shower on deck and then took their seats.

Raúl was rather more used to a well-made-up blonde in a revealing dress sitting opposite him, but there was something incredibly appealing about sitting for dinner half-naked and scooping up the delicacies the waiters were bringing.

‘I could get far too used to this,’ Estelle started, and then stopped herself, remembering his words at the lawyer’s. ‘I meant…’

‘I know what you meant.’

She was relieved to see he was smiling.

‘The food really is amazing,’ Raúl agreed. ‘They chef is marvellous. Chefs on yachts generally are—that is why we keep coming back for more.’

They chatted as they ate, far more naturally than they had before, and it wasn’t just for the benefit of the staff.

It was simply a blissful night.

They danced.

On the deck of his yacht they danced when the music came on.

‘I understand now why we should have changed for dinner,’ Estelle admitted. ‘Do you think I’ve offended anyone?’

‘I don’t think you could if you tried.’

The sky was darkening and Raúl looked out to the cliffs, and rather than remembering hell he buried his face in her hair. It took only the smell of the ocean in her hair for him to escape.

‘And for the record,’ Raúl said, ‘although you accuse me being a controlling bastard, I was worried about you burning. I have never seen paler skin.’

‘I think I am a bit sunburnt.’

‘I know.’

They moved down to the lounge room. Estelle was starting to relax—so much so that she didn’t spring from his arms when some dessert wine was brought through to them.

‘Let’s go to bed…’ His hand was in her bikini top, trying to free her breast.

‘Not yet,’ she breathed into his mouth. ‘I’ll never sleep.’

‘I have no intention of letting you sleep.’

‘Let’s watch a movie,’ Estelle said, unwrapping herself from him and heading over to his collection.

‘Estelle—no!’

‘Oh, sorry.’ She’d forgotten what he’d told her in the gym, about no hand-holding and movies, and she turned and attempted a smile. ‘Sure—let’s go to bed.’

‘I didn’t mean that,’ Raúl said through gritted teeth, wondering how he’d ended up with the one hooker to whom he’d have to apologise for his DVDs. ‘I just don’t think there will be anything there to your taste.’

He braced himself for the rapid demise of a pleasant night as Estelle flicked through his collection.

‘I love this one.’

‘Really?’ Raúl was very pleasantly surprised.

‘Actually…’ She skimmed through a couple more. ‘This one’s my favourite.’ She held up the cover to him and didn’t understand his smile.

‘Of course it is,’ Raúl said, pulling her down beside him, smiling into her hair. One day he would tell her how funny that was—one day when it wouldn’t offend, when she knew him better. He would laugh about it with her.

But there would not be that day, he reminded himself.

This was just for now.

He had not lain on a sofa and watched a movie—not one with a plot, anyway—since he couldn’t remember when.

Estelle shivered. The doors were open and the air was cooling. He pulled down a rug from the back of the sofa and covered them, felt her bottom curving into him.

‘Sore?’ He kissed her pink shoulders as he made light work of her bikini top.

‘A bit.’

Estelle concentrated on the movie as Raúl concentrated on Estelle. He kissed her neck and shoulders for ages, then played with her breasts, massaging them with his palms, taking her nipples between thumb and fingers. Then slowly, when he knew there would be no qualms from Estelle, moved one hand down and untied her bikini bottoms.