Under the Spaniard's Lock and Key (11 page)

BOOK: Under the Spaniard's Lock and Key
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Rafael swore.

Maggie flinched away from his outstretched hand. ‘It was all an act, wasn’t it? And in the end such a waste of your
valuable
time, because I never presented any danger. I was not a scandal waiting to happen. I was just a silly girl who believed you were as special as you seemed. And you’re not, you’re not special, you’re…’ Her voice quivered as the tears began to seep unchecked from her eyes. ‘I hate you and I wish we’d never met!’ She raced to the wardrobe and began to pull her possessions off the rail. ‘I’m going home.’

The dark lines of colour scoring Rafael’s razor-edged cheekbones deepened as he watched her. ‘I did not ask you
to stay with me only because of Angelina and you did not stay because you hate me.’

Maggie spun back, her dark eyes glowing with scorn. ‘Like you said yourself, I’m a fast learner, and actually hating is not so hard!’ Maggie drew a hand across the nape of her neck to free the hair trapped under her shirt before sweeping it back from her face and securing it behind her ears.

‘Do not be dramatic.’

The terse recommendation drew a low growl of incredulity from Maggie’s throat.

‘You could not regret the sex any more than I do…’

Maggie’s head went back as though he had struck her. She bit her trembling lip.

‘You were not so open,’ he charged angrily. ‘You did not tell me you were a virgin.’

Maggie’s jaw dropped as she shook her head in disbelief—as if what he had done could compare. ‘What was I meant to do—carry a sign around my neck? Call me an idiot, but I had this crazy idea I was missing out on something marvelous, that the experience would be liberating! How was I to know that it was all hype and no substance?’

He received the information with an aggravating air of disbelief. She wondered what it would take to dent this man’s ego. More than a bad review from her, clearly—though it had been noted on more than one occasion that she was a bad liar.

‘That is not what you said last night.’ The memory sent a surge of lust through his body that Rafael was powerless to control…

Maggie gave a sniff and fixed him with a glittering glare, channelling cynical woman of the world as she admitted, ‘I’m a great actress…sigh…gasp.’ She let her head fall back and moaned,
‘Please…please…you’re so good at this,’
before straightening up and smoothing back her hair.

‘You’re so marvellous blah…blah…blah…Women have
been saying what men want to hear for ever. It was a good holiday, end of story, and now I’m going home.’

He took one last look at her angry, accusing face and shrugged expressively before turning and stalking stiff-backed towards the door. He paused in the opening and turned back.

‘It may suit you to play the unwilling victim now, Maggie, but we both know that you were not!’

He had vanished before she thought of a suitable response. Tears streaming down her face, she ran to the door. He was nowhere in sight but she shouted down the corridor anyway.

‘My fiancé turned out to be a complete and total loser and I decided that anything had to be an improvement. I was wrong!’ she threw after him, before sliding to the floor and crying her heart out.

 

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

I
T
was a month later when Rafael made a discovery: it was actually quite easy to enjoy anonymity—all a person had to do was stand in a busy casualty department on a Saturday night.

He been standing in a corner of this noisy, crowded Casualty waiting room for an hour and nobody had approached him. He got the impression that if he stayed quiet he could stand there all night and nobody would; this, however, was not his intention.

He had a plan, well, not a
plan
exactly—for the first time in his life Rafael was winging it.

Another thirty minutes passed and the novelty value of being invisible began to lose its charm for Rafael. It occurred to him as he shifted his weight from foot to foot that he might have taken the under-the-radar approach a little too far.

His jaw clenched as he continued to scan the room. He had still not caught even a glimpse of her dark head and he was losing the struggle to control his frustration.

Inaction was not his thing for a reason—it was a very unproductive method of achieving a desired end.

And his desired end remained elusive. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other and wondered how she
worked in this place surrounded constantly by all this ugliness and suffering.

Rafael watched a man dressed in a security uniform approach, stop a few feet away and wait expectantly.

‘Can I help you, sir?’

Rafael flashed him a look. ‘I should not think so.’

The security guard, who had all the responses to belligerent or threatening behaviour—not that he wasn’t extremely relieved that this tough-looking customer was displaying neither—struggled for a response to this polite but unhelpful reply.

‘Have you given your details at the desk?’

‘I am waiting for someone.’

‘I’m afraid…Mr…?’

‘Castenadas,’ Rafael supplied.

He watched the inevitable flicker of recognition in the other man’s eyes, and gave a philosophical shrug. Security guards tended to have a lot of time to flick through tabloids.

‘Do I know you? Your face…’

Rafael was saved the necessity of responding because a smashing sound, loud enough to be heard over the general babble in the waiting area, followed by raised voices caused the man to break off.

Like everyone else Rafael turned in the direction of the sound, then he heard the cry—a cry of pain followed by the distinct sound of breaking glass.

Rafael, responding to the rush of adrenaline that flooded through his body, hit the ground running. He was through the swing doors and parting the curtain before the security guard had finished summoning help.

The scene was chaos: an overturned trolley, broken glass, instruments all over the floor and a large thug slurring a string of loud abuse at the figure crouched on the floor.

Some gut instinct had told him the cry had come from
Maggie’s lips. Even so, seeing her there made him reel as though a blow had landed through his defences.

She lifted her head, saw him, gave a sob of relief and said, ‘I’m fine!’ despite the evidence to the contrary.

He advanced and felt his foot slip; he glanced down, saw the blood on the floor and the colour seeped out of his face. It only took him a second, a second that was long enough to realise that the gore came, not from Maggie, but from her attacker, who was standing barefoot in the broken glass, oblivious to the pain.

The realisation that the thug was going to feel it once his anaesthetic of choice wore off afforded Rafael a brief moment of savage satisfaction before he placed his hand on the man’s collar and hauled him across the room.

Rafael, grimacing in distaste, moved his head back as he was hit by alcohol fumes.

He glanced over his shoulder and was relieved to see that Maggie was getting to her feet, helped by another nurse.

The drunk did not understand a word of the staccato Spanish directed at him but he did recognise the cold light in those eyes.

Rafael’s lip curled in distaste as he watched the rapid transformation from aggressive to pathetic when the drunk recognised he had lost the upper hand.

The two security men relieved him of his burden and Rafael swung back to Maggie.

‘What are you doing here, Rafael?’ Something twisted hard in his chest when he saw her face.

He struggled to control the rage lodged in his throat. ‘I am not a medic, but if you want my unqualified opinion I’d say ice might be a good idea.’

‘What are you doing here, Rafael?’

Of course she knew, she had known the moment she saw
him standing in the waiting area and pointed him out to Security as a dangerous-looking character.

He was here to speak on behalf of her birth mother, Angelina Castenadas.

She could think the name now, even say it out loud, and she’d had a series of long discussions with her mum. The discussions had involved a lot of tears but she felt less threatened by the situation. It definitely helped that she now believed Mum and Dad would not feel she was being disloyal if she did have contact with her birth mother.

‘Other than saving you?’

She studied his dark face hungrily, loving every strong plane and hollow. Seeing him again had made her realise that she would never be over him, she would smile, she would laugh, she would seem normal, but there would always be an empty space inside her that she
knew
he was meant to fill.

‘Thank you, Rafael.’

Her brow furrowed with concern she struggled to conceal. There were lines around his mouth she had not seen before, and shadows under his eyes that made them appear haunted.

Had he lost weight?

Had he been ill?

‘Who saves you when I am not around?’

‘These things only happen to me when you are.’ She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Look, I can save you time and energy.’ She lowered her eyes as her composure slipped and added huskily, ‘I know why you’re here.’

He stiffened, wariness sliding into his grey eyes as he met her candid gaze.

‘You’re here to plead my birth mother…Angelina’s case.’ Maggie bit her lip. ‘I know I sent her letter back unopened, but since then…I’ve thought about it a lot and spoke with Mum and I can see that I have been unfair. I know she had reasons for giving me up and things couldn’t have turned out
better for me. I have a marvellous family. I would like to meet her…later…’ She still struggled with the idea that it could be the positive experience her mum suggested, but she was willing to try.

The silence stretched.

‘I’m sure that Angelina will be pleased that you feel this way, but that is between you and her.’

‘But I thought…?’

‘I came because we had something that…it was not over.’ And until it was he would remain unable to function. ‘I want you back.’

The breath left her body in one startled gasp. ‘You want me back.’

His lifted a shoulder in an irritated shrug. ‘No, I was just passing.’ His eyes narrowed as he hissed, ‘Why else would I be here?’

‘And what I want? I suppose that is irrelevant.’

‘You want me,’ he charged. It was a struggle to think past the fog of sexual hunger in his brain, but this much he did know.

The predatory gleam in his eyes when he made this arrogant pronouncement sent a stab of excitement through Maggie’s hopelessly receptive body.

‘We can work out some sort of arrangement,’ he continued casually.

‘Arrangement?’

‘Families need not be involved.’ For the first time in his life he understood the attraction of being stranded on a desert island with no distractions.

Maggie shook her head as if waking from a daze. ‘Believe me, Rafael, you’re not the sort of man I’d take home to meet my parents.’ What did you expect, Maggie? she asked herself bitterly. That he came here because he’s interested in you anywhere outside the bedroom?

He studied her flushed, angry face with a baffled expression. ‘Why are you behaving as though I have insulted you?’

She pressed a finger to her chin and pretended to consider the question. ‘Could it have something to do with the fact that you think all you have to do is snap your fingers and I’ll provide sex on tap?’

His face darkened with anger at her sarcasm. ‘You would have sex on tap also.’

The mortified colour flew to her cheeks at the taunt. ‘You’re not the only man in the world or, for that matter, my life,’ she lied.

For a moment Rafael could not breathe past the swell of molten hot anger in his chest.

‘I’m curious,’ she continued, oblivious to his titanic struggle for control. ‘Are we talking about just while you are in town, days or weeks…hours? Or are you asking me to move in and be your full-time mistress?’

‘You wish to formalise the arrangement?’ His shoulders lifted. ‘Fine…yes!’

The mocking smile slid from her lips. ‘You’re not serious!’

‘I would not be here unless I was serious.’ Or insane, he thought, dragging a hand through his dark hair. ‘You walked away from me. No woman has ever done that.’

‘So this is about pride.’ Maggie was furious with herself for imagining even for one brief second that it might be more. ‘We’re not finished until
you
say so…’

He regarded her with an expression of intense irritation. ‘Why do you always twist what I say? I have come here—’

Her lips twisted. ‘I’m flattered.’

‘You should be. I’ve never chased after a woman in my life.’

Maggie’s eyes swept upwards and connected with his brooding molten stare; her breath caught. ‘You’re chasing me?’

His fascinating mouth curved upwards. ‘I’ve caught you.’

A shiver slid down her spine and she swayed towards him as though drawn by an invisible thread.

‘Mags…?’

A nurse popped her head around the curtain that someone had pulled across and Rafael stepped back, the muscle in his lean cheek clenching as he swore under his breath.

‘Mark will give your eye the once-over shortly.’ The girl slid a curious and appreciative glance toward Rafael. ‘He’s just seeing to our friend. The guy’s feet are in a mess—he was walking on glass.’

‘No problem, I’m fine. I’ll be out in a minute.’

‘Can I get your friend anything…coffee, tea…?’

Maggie, who heard the unspoken addition of
me,
glared and heard Rafael respond with an abrupt, ‘No.’

Rafael, who had listened to the brief interchange with growing disbelief, waited until the other woman had left before he spoke. ‘That man—he is being attended to before you.’

‘Well, it is a matter of priorities.’

Indeed it was, and the ones he was witnessing were to his mind, sadly skewed.

‘You are planning on continuing to work?’

She nodded. ‘It’s a really busy evening and we’re short staffed…’

Rafael unable to contain his outrage a moment longer held up his hand. ‘Listen to me—you are
not
going back to work.’

‘Really, Rafael, you don’t understand—’

‘No, you don’t understand—this is not a debate.’

‘You can’t walk in here and order me about. I’m not your live-in girlfriend yet…not yet, I mean…’ She closed her eyes and thought, What do I mean? Her head felt as though someone were inside her skull trying to hammer his way out. ‘All right, I’ll go home once I’ve been checked.’

Rafael’s feelings were not soothed long. When the doctor did put in an appearance he looked as though he had not begun shaving and his manner towards Maggie was far too familiar.

The doctor pronounced her fine, though he suggested she might like to wear dark glasses for a few days because she was going to have quite a shiner.

He also said there was no way she should go back to work. This time Maggie did not argue; the man with the hammer in her skull had been joined by friends. Maggie looked up as Rafael stepped back into the room.

‘You’re still here?’

Rafael’s dark brows shot up. ‘You expected me not to be? We have things to discuss.’

Maggie’s lashes fell. ‘Not tonight…’

‘Certainly tonight,’ he retorted, his attitude displaying no room for manoeuvre.

‘Fine. I can save you some time, Rafael. I can’t be…with you.’

A muscle clenched in his cheek. ‘Why?’

‘Because I can’t be with a man who can’t promise me an exclusive relationship that lasts more than a few weeks.’ With a highly sexed man like Rafael, she thought dourly, there would always be someone waiting to take her place.

A nerve clenched in his lean cheek and he remained silent as he pushed open the swing doors for her to pass through before him.

‘And if I was prepared to do that?’

Eyes round in amazement, she swung back just as a blinding light flashed in her face. Beside her Rafael swore, raised his arm to shield her, moving to stand between her and the paparazzo.

‘Just keep walking.’

A good plan in theory, but she stumbled and Rafael swept
her up into his arms and across to the waiting car, all the time being snapped.

Maggie gave a sigh of relief as the car pulled away.

Rafael flashed her a quick sideways look. ‘We should be at my place in about half an hour, traffic willing.’

‘I want to go to
my
place and it will take five minutes.’

It actually took less than the five minutes she predicted and Rafael hadn’t said another word after his abrupt, ‘Fine!’ when he turned the ignition.

It didn’t occur to Maggie to ask how he knew where she lived as she responded to his urging to hurry because the paparazzo would not be far behind.

The flat door closed and the tension slid from Maggie’s shoulders and she flopped down onto the sofa. ‘God that awful man.’

‘There will be more awful men when you move in with me,’ Rafael felt obliged to warn her as he pulled down his sleeve to cover the nick on his wrist that was still seeping blood.

‘If I move in…’ Maggie stopped, her eyes drawn by his actions to the stain on the cuff of his shirt. ‘You’re bleeding!’ she accused, leaping to her feet.

Rafael gave an impatient shrug. ‘It’s nothing—a piece of glass, I think…’

‘Let me see? You should have let someone look at it.’

Rafael backed away. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘It should be cleaned.’

He stifled his impatience and gave a sigh. ‘Fine, where’s your bathroom? I’ll wash it if that will make you happy.’ Nothing but feeling her body beneath him would make him happy.

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