JACQUELINE BAIRD - Raul's Revenge

“It’s Leap Year, Raul. Will you marry me?” “It’s Leap Year, Raul. Will you marry me?” “Now I get it.” He laughed mirthlessly. “The arguments of the last few weeks, the defiance and then the grand finale—staying out all night. What kind of fool do you take me for, Penny? Better women than you have tried to manipulate me into marriage and failed. You’re good, but not that good.” His comment was like a knife in her heart. “I take it that was a no,” she got out between clenched teeth. “Correct, honey. If and when I take a wife, I will do the asking.” About the Author JACQUELINE BAIRD began writing as a hobby when her family objected to the smell of her oil painting, and immediately became hooked on the romantic genre. She loves traveling and worked her way around the world from Europe to the Americas and Australia, returning to marry her teenage sweetheart. She lives in the north of England, in the county of her birth, and has two grown-up sons. She enjoys playing badminton, and spends most weekends with husband Jim, sailing their Gp. 14 boat. Title Page Raul’s Revenge Jacqueline Baird www.millsandboon.co.uk CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN Copyright

“It’s Leap Year, Raul. Will you marry me?”

“Now I get it.” He laughed mirthlessly. “The arguments of the last few weeks, the defiance and then the grand finale—staying out all night. What kind of fool do you take me for, Penny? Better women than you have tried to manipulate me into marriage and failed. You’re good, but not that good.”

His comment was like a knife in her heart. “I take it that was a no,” she got out between clenched teeth.

“Correct, honey. If and when I take a wife, I will do the asking.”

JACQUELINE BAIRD

began writing as a hobby when her family objected to the smell of her oil painting, and immediately became hooked on the romantic genre. She loves traveling and worked her way around the world from Europe to the Americas and Australia, returning to marry her teenage sweetheart. She lives in the north of England, in the county of her birth, and has two grown-up sons. She enjoys playing badminton, and spends most weekends with husband Jim, sailing their Gp. 14 boat.

Raul’s Revenge

Jacqueline Baird

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

‘NICE bed, Raul.’ Penny glanced at the huge bed in the centre of the hotel room, then, blonde head tilting to one side, shot a sexy, sidelong glance at her companion. ‘And we did miss siesta!’

‘Wanton.’ Raul grinned, and, dropping the case on the bed, added, ‘Sorry, no time. You unpack while I shower. A car is picking me up in thirty minutes.’

Penny followed the tall dark man’s progress towards the en suite bathroom with wistful eyes. Business always came first with Raul. Sighing, she did as he had suggested and unpacked the clothes, then, kicking off her sandals, flopped down on the bed and gazed around yet another hotel bedroom. At one time she would have been delighted by the luxury, now she found one hotel room much like another.

She heard the sound of water running in the bathroom and a deep bass voice belting out, singing off key in Spanish. A soft smile curved her lips. Raul, true to form, was performing his usual lusty caterwauling in the shower. The noise stopped and Penny swung her legs to the floor. Sitting up, she brushed her long hair tidily behind her ears, her blue eyes eager with anticipation.

It was stupid, she knew. She had lived with the man for months, she loved him more than life, but he just had to enter a room and she was breathless. A moment later the bathroom door opened and Raul strolled out.

She knew every inch of his magnificent body as well as she knew her own, but the sight of him never failed to make her pulse race and her stomach clench with excitement. He wasn’t a particularly handsome man—his nose was too large and his chin too square—but thick night-black hair and unusual gold-flecked deep brown eyes combined with six feet three inches and two hundred pounds of hard-packed muscle added up to a powerful specimen of the male sex.

At the moment his only covering was a white towel slung low around his lean hips, and as he prowled around the room, flinging open doors and drawers to find his clothes, Penny’s eyes lingered lovingly on his bronzed torso and the thick mat of black curls covering his chest, arrowing down to disappear beneath the towel. As she watched he raised a long-fingered hand to scratch idly the downy covering on his muscular chest.

‘Dios! I’m going to be late,’ Raul grumbled, turning towards the bed. A pair of black silk boxer shorts dangling in one large hand, he flashed her a brilliant glance. ‘So don’t even think of persuading me into bed.’

‘Me persuade you!’ Penny’s blue eyes lit with amusement. ‘As if I would!’ she exclaimed, all fake innocence.

His wide mouth curved in a sensuous smile. ‘You, anywhere near a bed, Penny, could provoke a dying octogenarian.’

‘You’re not that old,’ she mocked.

‘Brat.’ And, sitting down beside her, he caught her hand in his, and with his other hand he pushed the stray tendrils of fine blonde hair from her brow, his expression suddenly serious.

‘I am sorry about this.’ He glanced around the room and back to her face. ‘I know I promised you we would be in London for your birthday.’ With a Latin shrug of his shoulders, he added, ‘But these things happen.’

‘It’s all right, Raul,’ Penny reassured him. ‘How many girls can arrive at a Spanish airport expecting to go to London and end up in the Middle East for the night?’ She tried to make light of the upset to their plans. ‘Unless, of course, you’ve added white slaving to your business empire?’ she teased.

‘Don’t even joke about it.’ Raul grimaced. ‘Not in this country; you’re mine, and mine you will stay, so don’t you forget it.’

‘Yes, oh master...’ She bowed her head in mock subservience while her small hand teasingly stroked his muscular thigh. Her action was greeted with a guffaw of laughter.

‘Witch...behave yourself; I really do have to leave you for a few hours, but I’ll make it up to you later, and that’s a promise.’

They had left Raul’s home that morning to catch a plane for London. A call on his car phone had resulted in his having to attend an emergency meeting in Dubai. Luckily there had been a scheduled flight to the Middle East some ten minutes after the London flight. Before Penny had known what was happening she had found herself in the first-class section of a Boeing 747 heading across the Mediterranean.

Penny had become used to Raul flying off around the world at a moment’s notice. As the owner of a large international engineering company, along with a hacienda and a few thousand acres in the Andalusian area of Spain, plus a host of other interests, her boyfriend was an extremely wealthy man.

Her lips twitched in the briefest of wry smiles. ‘Boyfriend’ was hardly the right word, she admitted to herself, her deep blue eyes searching his hard face. At thirty-seven Raul Da Silva couldn’t be called a boy by anyone...

‘That’s what I like about you, Penny, darting—you never fuss,’ Raul offered complacently, rising from the bed after first driving her almost senseless with a long, hard kiss.

Fighting to recover her breath, Penny watched as he moved around the room, all male efficiency, and marvelled at how easily he switched from passionate lover to hard-nosed business tycoon. Exactly three minutes later he stood beside the bed, elegantly dressed in a grey, three-piece silk suit, the white of his shirt contrasting with the dark bronze of his rugged features, a blue and grey striped tie at his strong throat. He stuck out his arm.