His Ultimate Prize(3)

       
           



       

He shifted on his feet. Pain ricocheted through his hip and pelvis.  Ignoring it, he gave a mental shrug, limped forward and took the ladle  the priest passed him. Scooping water out of the large bowl, he poised  it over his nephew's head.

At the priest's nod, he tipped the ladle.

The scream of protest sent a tiny wave of satisfaction through him.  Hopefully his innocent nephew would take a look at him and run screaming  every time he saw him. Because Rafael knew that if he had anything at  all to do with his brother's child, the poor boy's life too would be  ruined.

As well-wishers gathered around to soothe the wailing child, he dropped  the ladle back into the bowl, stepped back and forced his gaze away from  his nephew's adorable curls and plump cheeks.

Beside him, he heard Raven's long indrawn breath and, grabbing the very welcome distraction, he let his gaze drift to her.

Magnet-like, her hazel eyes sought and found his. Her throat moved in a  visible swallow that made his fingers itch to slide over that smooth  column of flesh. Follow it down to that delectable, infinitely tempting  valley between her plump breasts.

Not here, not now, he thought regrettably. What was between the two of  them would not be played out here in this place where dark memories-both  living and dead-lingered everywhere he looked, ready to pounce on him  should he even begin to let them...

He tensed at the whirr of an electronic wheelchair, kept his gaze fixed  on Raven even as his spine stiffened almost painfully. Thankfully the  wheelchair stopped several feet behind him and he heard the familiar  voice exchange greetings with other family members. With every pulse of  icy blood through his veins, Rafael wished himself elsewhere...anywhere  but here, where the thick candles and fragrant flowers above the nave  reminded him of other candles and flowers placed in a shrine not very  far away from where he stood-a constant reminder of what he'd done. A  reminder that because of him, because of callous destruction, this was  his mother's final resting place.

His beloved Mamá...

His breath caught as Sasha, his sister-in-law, came towards him, her now quietened son in her arm.

Sasha...something else he'd ruined.

Dios...

'He's got a set of lungs on him, hasn't he?' she laughed, her face  radiant in the light slanting through the church windows. 'He almost  raised the roof with all that wailing.'

He took in the perfect picture mother and child made and something  caught in his chest. He'd denied his mother this-the chance to meet her  grandchild.

'Rafael?'

He focused and summoned a half-smile. 'Sí, my poor eardrums are still bleeding.'

She laughed again as her eyes rolled. 'Oh, come on, my little champ's  not that bad. Besides, Marco tells me he takes after you, and I don't  find that hard to believe at all.' She sobered, her gaze running over  him before piercing blue eyes captured his in frank, no nonsense  assessment. 'So...how are you? And don't give me a glib answer.'

'Thoroughly bored of everyone asking me how I am.' He raised his walking  stick and gestured to his frame. 'See for yourself, piqueña. My clever  physiotherapist tells me I'm between phases two and three on the  recovery scale. Dios knows what that means. All I know is that I'm still  a broken, broken man.' In more ways than he cared to count.

She gently rubbed her son's back. 'You're far from broken. And we ask because we care about you.'

'Sí, I get that. But I prefer all this caring to be from afar. The  up-close-and-personal kind gives me the...what do you English call  it...the willies?'

Her eyes dimmed but her smile remained in place. 'Too bad. We're not  going to stop because you bristle every time we come near.' Her  determined gaze shifted to Raven, who was chatting to another guest.  'And I hope you're not giving her a hard time. From what I hear, she's  the best physio there is.'

Despite telling himself it wasn't the time or place, he couldn't stop  his gaze from tracing the perfect lines of Raven Blass's body. And it  was a perfect body, honed by hours and hours of gruelling physical  exercise. She hadn't been lying when she said she was solid muscle and  bone. But Rafael knew, from being up close and personal, that there was  soft femininity where there needed to be. Which, all in all, presented a  more-than-pleasing package that had snagged his attention with shocking  intensity the first time he'd laid eyes on her in his racing paddock  almost eighteen months ago.

Of course, he'd been left in no uncertain terms that, despite all  indications of a very mutual attraction, Raven had no intention of  letting herself explore that attraction. Her reaction to it had been  viscerally blunt.

She'd gone out of her way to hammer her rejection home...right at the time when he'd been in no state to be rejected...

His jaw tightened. 'How I choose to treat my physiotherapist is really none of your business, Sasha.'

A hint of sadness flitted through her eyes before she looked down at her  son. 'Despite what you might think, I'm still your friend, so stop  trying to push me away because, in case you need reminding, I push  back.' She glanced back at him with a look of steely determination.

He sighed. 'I'd forgotten how stubborn you are.'

'It's okay. I'm happy to remind you when you need reminding. Your  equally demanding godson demands your presence at the villa, so we'll  see you both there in half an hour. No excuses.'

'If we must,' Rafael responded in a bored drawl.

Sasha's lips firmed. 'You must. Or I'll have to leave my guests and come  and fetch you personally. And Marco wouldn't like that at all.'

'I stopped being terrified of my big brother long before I lost my baby teeth, piqueña.'

'Yes, but I know you wouldn't want to disappoint him. Also, don't forget about Raven.'

He glanced over his shoulder at the woman in question, who now stood  with her head bent as she spoke to one of the altar boys. Her namesake  hair fell forward as she nodded in response to something the boy said.  From the close contact necessitated by her profession, Rafael knew  exactly how silky and luxuriant her hair felt against his skin. He'd  long stopped resenting the kick in his groin when he looked at her. In  fact he welcomed it. He'd lost a lot after his accident, not just a  percentage of his physical mobility. With each groin kick, he  ferociously celebrated the return of his libido.

'What about Raven?' he asked.

'I've seen her in action during her training sessions. She's been known  to reduce grown men to tears. I bet I can convince her to hog-tie you to  the SUV and deliver you to the villa if you carry on being difficult.'

Rafael loosened his grip on his walking stick and gave a grim smile.  'Dios, did someone hack into my temporary Internet files and discover I  have a thing for dominatrixes? Because you two seem bent on pushing that  hot, sweet button.'

Sasha's smile widened. 'I see you haven't lost your dirty sense of  humour. That's something to celebrate, at least. See you at the villa.'

Without waiting for an answer, she marched off towards Marco, who was  shaking hands with the priest. His brother's arm enfolded her  immediately. Rafael gritted his teeth against the disconcerting pang and  accompanying guilt that niggled him.

He'd robbed his family of so much...

'So, which is it to be-compliance without question or physical  restraints?' Raven strolled towards him, her gaze cool and collected.

The mental picture that flashed into his mind made his heart beat just  that little bit faster. Nerves which his doctors had advised him might  never heal again stirred, as they'd been stirring for several days now.  The very male satisfaction the sensation brought sent a shaft of fire  through his veins. 'You heard?'

'It was difficult not to. You don't revere your surroundings enough to keep your voice down when you air your...peccadilloes.'

The laughter that ripped from his throat felt surprisingly great. He'd  had nothing to laugh about for far longer than he cared to remember.  Several heads turned to watch him but he didn't care. He was more  intrigued by the blush that spread over Raven's face. He leaned in  close. 'Do you think the angels are about to strike me down? Will you  save me if they do?' he asked sotto voce.

'No, Rafael. I think, based on your debauched past and irreverent  present, all the saints will agree by now you're beyond redemption. No  one can save you.'

Despite his bitter self-condemnation moments ago, hearing the words  repeated so starkly caused Rafael's chest to tighten. All traces of  mirth were stripped from his soul as he recalled similar words, uttered  by the same voice, this same woman eight months ago. And then, as now,  he felt the black chasm of despair yawn before him, growing ever-wider,  sucking at his empty soul until only darkness remained. Because  knowingly or unknowingly, she'd struck a very large, very raw nerve.

'Then tell me, Raven, if I'm beyond redemption, what the hell are you doing here?'





 CHAPTER TWO