Authors: Donna Vitek
"Juliet," he whispered, his voice excitingly low and rough
as he gathered her closer still with swift undeniable urgency. As her
softness yielded to the harder stronger masculine line of his body, one
questing hand slipped up to cover the mound of one breast and when the
firm warm flesh surged responsively against his palm, he groaned softly.
His touch was electric. As Juliet's slender bare arms went
around his neck, she delighted in the shafting awareness that shot
through her body when strong fingers curved into her throbbing
cushioned breast. Other men had tried to bestow such familiar caresses;
Pablo had tried often but she had always brushed his hand away with
mild irritation. Raul's touch was different, so very different. She
liked it. The demand his hard lean hands conveyed sent shivers dancing
over her skin and aroused a central throbbing aching inside her. Her
soft lips parted wider and were captured by the firm yet sensuous shape
of his. Her mouth opened slightly, invitingly. His kiss hardened, then
became a deepening, spellbinding exploration that weakened her limbs
with intensifying warmth. And as his fingers tangled in the thick hair
on her nape, she was kissing him back with a passion that was rising to
meet his.
It was the clatter of footfalls on the tiles around the
fountain that brought Juliet back to the real world a moment later. And
when she heard a tour guide droning on in memorized English, she dragged her lips from Raul's with a
breathless murmur of protest. Still cradled in his arms, she opened
drowsy amber eyes, met the debilitating triumphant gleam in the green
depths of his and blushed crimson. When she struggled to escape his
arms, he released her immediately and she sat up, her head bent, her
silken hair falling forward to conceal her face. She felt thoroughly
confused and somewhat ashamed and when Raul's fingertips feathered over
her nape, she jerked away.
"Let's not play games, Juliet," he said softly. "You're a
very responsive young woman and you've been without a lover too long.
We could have a very satisfying relationship while you're here in
Granada."
Juliet scrambled to her knees, the color draining from her
face as she stared at him. "Are you suggesting that w-we have a casual
affair?" she stammered. "Wh-what kind of person do you think I am?"
"I think you're a very modern young woman and I don't want
you to be lonely while you're here," he said with provoking calm, as if
he were deliberately baiting her. "So my suggestion that we keep each
other company wasn't meant as an insult."
"Well, I
am
insulted!" she retorted
recklessly. "And you can just go straight to hell! I wouldn't choose
you to keep me company if you were the last man on earth. And I haven't
been without a lover too long. I've never had…" Her words
halted abruptly. She couldn't tell him she'd never had a
lover—that admission would be far too revealing and make her
wanton response to him too significant. She had no desire to let him
learn that his touch affected her in a way no other man's ever had.
Raul was already difficult to handle, as it was. Clamping her lips
firmly together, she jumped to her feet but the muscles of her throat
constricted painfully as Raul stood swiftly and caught her wrist before
she could escape. Her eyes widened with bewilderment as she stared down
at the lean fingers curving around her small wrist. "Wh-why are you
doing this?" she asked huskily. "Yesterday you were pretending to be
nice but today, you're—you're being horrid."
"I can be nice or I can be 'horrid'," he answered bluntly.
"How I treat you is all up to you, Juliet. And I don't believe you
really think I've been horrid today. You enjoyed the past few minutes
as much as I did so why try to deny it?"
With a careless shrug, he released her and as she turned
away, she was aware of him reaching down for his coat and tossing it
over one shoulder. For a tense moment, his gaze seemed to bore into her
back but she refused to look at him.
"We'll go see Will tonight at eight, as usual. Be ready."
His commanding tone was the last straw. A biting retort
sprang to her lips but before she could turn and. utter it, he was
walking away. She glared after him, her fists clenched at her sides but
when he didn't even glance back at her, her shoulders drooped slightly
and she released her breath in a long shuddering sigh. Absently, she
reached up for the slender low-hanging branch of willow that brushed
her shoulder and with an audible oath of frustration, she snapped off
one narrow long leaf. As she watched Raul walk out of sight, she
wondered why his erroneous opinion of her upset her so much. She
shouldn't care what he thought of her. After all, she had no reason to
be fond of him either. He was too busy, too conceited—a super
sophisticate totally devoid of warmth.
Raul proved her wrong that evening. He
was
capable of warmth, at least in his attitude toward Will McKay. He
actually seemed quite fond of the older man and the affection Juliet
detected in his green eyes during their visit to Will nearly took her
breath away. And she also noticed with some dismay that Raul treated
all the nurses with such irresistible charm that every one on duty that
evening seemed to find some excuse to stop by Will's room while Raul
was there. Juliet watched the teasing exchanges between him and the
younger women with increasing discontent. Why didn't he treat her the
way he treated them? Though he obviously appreciated their femininity,
his attitude conveyed no hint of disrespect or insult. After he engaged
in a half-serious flirtation with a particularly lovely raven-haired
young nurse, Juliet sat staring at him when the girl left. Obviously
sensing her bewildered appraisal, he finally looked up, his
unfathomable eyes issuing a challenge until she nervously chewed her
upper lip and averted her gaze.
"Well, Raul, has the doctor told
you
when I might get out of this wretched bed?" Will McKay asked
querulously, inadvertently easing some of the tension Juliet felt. "He
won't tell me anything. He acts like it's none of my business how long
I have to lie here with my leg dangling in the air."
Raul smiled understandingly. "It shouldn't be much longer,
Will. Try not to be impatient and remember, you'll still have to take
it easy for quite some time after you're released from the clinic."
"But the gallery. I need…"
"Don't worry about the gallery. I'll handle everything."
"You can't neglect your other responsibilities
indefinitely though," Will argued. "I never expected you to keep the
gallery open personally so if you want to close it until I'm well
again, I'll understand."
"That won't be necessary," Raul assured him. "I'm bringing
in someone to keep the gallery open, someone very capable so you have
no reason to worry."
Visibly relieved, Will nodded, then gave Juliet a wan
smile and reached out a thin blue-veined hand. "I'm sorry to be such
poor company, child, but I am feeling rather tired."
Smiling back at him lovingly, Juliet patted his hand, then
tucked it back beneath the crisp white sheet covering him. "You're not
poor company. You just need a lot of rest."
"So we'll leave you to get some sleep," Raul added,
getting up from his chair to stand beside the bed. He nodded
perfunctorily at Juliet. "Ready?"
Not really, she thought but she stood anyway. After
brushing a kiss against her uncle's cheek, she preceded Raul out of the
room, down the long corridor and through the reception area into the
cool night air. The lush clinic grounds shimmered in the light of a
cream-colored moon and the fragrances of roses and bougainvillaea
mingled sweetly. It was a lovely night but as Juliet slipped into the
leather seat of Raul's BMW, she was really too uneasy to appreciate the
beauty around her. What had happened between them that afternoon in the
garden made it impossible for her to relax and she could only hope he
would be enough of a gentleman not to mention the incident.
He didn't. Actually, he didn't say anything at all to her
until they were back in Granada and he was parking the car before one
of the city's swankiest hotels.
"The assistant manager from our gallery in Madrid arrived
this evening and will be going home with us for dinner so we can
discuss business," he announced matter-of-factly. "I told Rosita I'd be
bringing a guest."
"I suppose this means you'll be moving out of the house,"
Juliet murmured, carefully examining her fingernails, not certain
whether she felt disappointed or relieved. "I mean, since this
assistant manager will be taking care of the gallery, you won't need to
stay in Granada, will you?"
Raul smiled rather mockingly. "You seem to be forgetting
Will asked me to take care of you. So no, I won't be moving out of the
house. I'll be able to conduct most of my business by phone from there.
Sorry if that upsets any plans you might have had."
"I had no plans you could have…" Her reply was
cut short as Raul got out of the car and closed the door before she
could finish speaking. With a sigh of sheer exasperation, she folded
her arms across her chest and slouched down in her seat. When her own
door was opened a few seconds later and Raul stood beside it silently,
as if expected her to get out, she thrust out her jaw. "I'll wait
here," she muttered without looking at him. "I don't imagine you'll be
long, will you?"
"No, not long but you'll go in with me anyway," he
declared, reaching in to curve his hand around her upper arm. When she
shook her head, his fingers tightened and he pulled her out despite her
muttered protest. He added nonchalantly, "I don't leave little girls
alone in my car at night."
Refusing to be baited, she didn't bother to answer but as
they entered the plushly carpeted hotel lobby a moment later, she moved
away from him, toward the cozily arranged brown leather sofa and chairs
that faced the desk. After Raul spoke to the clerk, as he walked toward
where she was now sitting on the sofa, she avoided looking at him by
meticulously arranging the folds of the skirt of her ice-blue gauze
dress. To her surprise, he sat down on the sofa beside her, settling
back against the cushions and stretching his long legs out in front of
him. During the next few minutes they waited in silence, but Juliet
couldn't resist the temptation to observe him surreptitiously out of
the corner of her eye. Suddenly he smiled, one of those warm friendly
smiles she had rarely, if ever, gotten from him. As he rose lithely to
his feet, she followed the direction of his gaze and watched as a
beautiful woman, probably in her late twenties, stopped in the center
of the lobby and stretched black silk-clad arms out to him. She was
Spanish, with lovely dark eyes and a flawless olive complexion. Though
she was quite tall and slim, the draped bodice and clingy skirt of her
dress accentuated some very generous curves. Raul embraced her only
briefly but she didn't remove her long slender hands from his shoulders
until she kissed his lips lingeringly. He certainly didn't seem to
object, Juliet noticed, wrinkling her nose discreetly. Then as he took
the woman's hand and led her back toward the sofa, she bit back the
disgruntled sigh that rose in her throat. She had no desire to meet one
of his lady friends.
Unfortunately, Raul made the introduction anyway. "Jimena,
this is Will McKay's niece, Juliet. Juliet, Jimena Ruiz, the assistant
manager of our Madrid gallery."
Juliet was somewhat surprised. It had never occurred to
her that the assistant manager would be a woman, especially a woman who
looked the way Jimena did. Her black silk dress was undoubtedly a high
fashion original and the narrow-strapped snakeskin shoes she wore
probably cost a small fortune. Actually, Jimena looked as if she would
be more at home in a fashion show than in an art gallery but Juliet
disguised her surprise, said hello, and smiled.
Jimena's answering smile was more haughty than friendly,
then she turned all her attention to Raul again, clinging to his arm
tenaciously as if she thought he might float away if she released him.
As Juliet stood and the three of them left the hotel and walked to the
car, Jimena spoke to Raul in Spanish, effectively excluding Juliet from
the conversation. It didn't matter. As the older woman automatically
slipped into the front passenger seat, the supercilious look she gave
Juliet needed no translation anyway. Conceding graciously, Juliet
flashed a bright smile as Raul opened the back door for her and she got
inside, shunning the helping hand he held out.
As Raul drove toward Will McKay's house, Jimena chattered
away nonstop but finally he did remember Juliet was in the car. "Speak
English, please, Jimena," he requested politely. "Juliet can't
translate that quickly."
"Indeed?" Glancing back at Juliet, Jimena lifted perfectly
arched black brows questioningly. "But your uncle has lived many years
in Granada, has he not, Señorita McKay?"
"Juliet's been in school in the States most of the time,"
Raul answered for her, then added succinctly, "And for the past year,
she's been traveling over Europe."
"Ah, yes, with the boyfriend who is the rock singer."
Jimena smiled snidely. "You are the girl who was engaged to
Pablo—I remember now."
"I was never engaged to Pablo, Señorita Ruiz," Juliet
responded tersely. "He completely misunderstood our relationship. I
never wanted to be more to him than a friend."
"Well, there are friends and there are friends," Jimena
said suggestively, her laugh low and seductively husky as she brushed
her hand against Raul's lean cheek. "Is that not right,
querido
?"
When he only smiled at her and didn't answer, she continued. "I am so
happy that you called me to manage the
galeria
here. I missed you so much last week when you did not make your monthly
visit to Madrid."