His Ultimate Prize(5)

       

Heat punched its way through her pelvis but, before Raven could answer, a deep throat cleared behind them.

Marco de Cervantes was as tall as his brother and just as visually  stunning to look at but he wore his good looks with a smouldering grace  where Rafael wholeheartedly embraced his irreverent playboy status.

Marco nodded to Raven, and glanced at his brother.

'I need to talk to you. You don't mind if I borrow him for five minutes, do you, Raven?'

Relief spiked, headier than the champagne she'd barely drunk. 'Not at all. We weren't discussing anything important.'

Rafael's eyes narrowed at the thin insult, his icy blue eyes promising  retribution just before they cleared into their usual deceptively  indolent look.

Lifting her glass in a mocking salute, she walked away, piercingly aware  that he tracked her every step. Out of his intoxicating, domineering  sphere, she heaved in a breath of pure relief and pasted a smile on her  face as Sasha beckoned her.

* * *

Rafael turned to his brother, mild irritation prickling his skin.  'What's on your mind?' He discarded his champagne and wished he had  something stronger.

'You need another hobby besides trying to rile your physiotherapist.'

His irritation grew as Raven disappeared from sight, pulled towards a  group of guests by Sasha. 'What's it to you? And why the hell does  everyone feel the need to poke their nose into my business?'

Marco shrugged away the question. 'Consider the matter dropped. The old  man's been asking for you.' Grey eyes bored sharply into his. 'I think  it's time.'

Every bone in his body turned excruciatingly rigid. 'That's for me to  decide, surely?' And if he didn't feel he was ready to ask for  forgiveness, who was anybody to decide otherwise?

'There's been enough hurt all around, Rafa. It's time to move things forward.'

He spiked tense fingers through his hair. 'You wouldn't be trying to save me again by any chance, would you, brother?'

An impatient look passed through Marco's eyes. 'From the look of things,  you don't need saving. Besides, I cut the apron strings when I realised  you were driving me so nuts that I was in danger of strangling you with  them.'

Rafael beckoned the waiter over and exchanged his untouched champagne  for a crystal tumbler of Patrón. 'In that case, we're copacetic. Was  there anything else?'

Marco's gaze stayed on him for several seconds before he nodded. 'You sent for the papers for the X1 All-Star event coming up?'

Rafael downed the drink, welcoming the warmth that coursed through his  chest. 'Unless I'm mistaken, I'm still the CEO of X1 Premier Management.  The events start in three weeks. You delegated some of the event's  organisation but it's time for me to take the reins again.'

His brother's gaze probed, worry lurking within. 'Are you sure you don't want to sit this one out-?'

'I'm sure. Don't second-guess me, mi hermano. I understand that my  racing career may be in question-' He stopped as a chill surged through  his veins, obliterating the warmth of moments before. Although he didn't  remember his accident, he'd seen pictures of the wreckage in vivid  detail. He was very much aware that lucky to be alive didn't begin to  describe his condition. 'The racing side of my career may be up for  debate,' he repeated, beating back the wave of desolation that swelled  up inside his chest, 'but my brain still functions perfectly. As for my  body...' He looked over as a flash of orange caught his eye. The  resulting kick gave him a surge of satisfaction. 'My body will be in top  condition before very long.'

Marco nodded. 'I'm happy to hear it. According to Raven, you're on the road to complete recovery.'

'Really?' Rafael made a mental note to have a short, precise  conversation with his physio about sharing confidential information.

'...Dios, are you listening to me? Never mind, I think it'll be safer  for me not to know which part of your anatomy you're thinking with right  at this moment. Bueno, I'll be in touch later in the week to discuss  other business.'

'No need to wait till next week. I can tell you now that I'm back. I own  fifty per cent of our business, after all. No reason why you should  continue to shoulder my responsibilities. Come to think of it, you  should take a vacation with your family, let me handle things for a  while.' He glanced over to where Sasha stood chatting to Raven. As if  sensing their attention, both women turned towards them. Marco's face  dissolved in a look so cheesy, Rafael barely stopped himself from making  retching noises.

'Are you sure?' Marco asked without taking his eyes off his wife.  'Sasha's been on my back about taking some time off. It would be great  to take the yacht to the island for a bit.' They joint owned a  three-mile island paradise in the Bahamas, a place neither of them had  visited in a very long time.

'Great. Do it. I'll handle things here,' Rafael responded.

His brother looked sceptical.

'This is a one-time offer, set to expire in ten seconds,' he pressed as  his sister-in-law and his physiotherapist started walking towards them.  For the first time he noticed Raven's open-toed high heels and saw the  way they made her long legs go on for ever. Sasha said something to her.  Her responding smile made his throat dry.

Hell, he had it bad if he was behaving like a hormonal teenager around a woman who clearly had man issues.

He barely felt it when Marco slapped his shoulder. 'I'll set things in  motion first thing in the morning. I owe you one, brother.'

Rafael nodded, relieved that the disturbing subject of his father had been dropped.

'What are you looking so pleased about?' Sasha asked her husband as they drew level with them.

'I have news that's guaranteed to make you adore me even more than you  already do.' He kissed her soundly on the lips before leading her away.

Rafael saw Raven looking after them. 'I do believe if they had a like  button attached to their backs you would be pressing it right about  now?'

Her outraged gasp made him curb a smile. He loved to rile her. Rafael  didn't hide from the fact that while he was busy riling Raven Blass, he  was busy not thinking about what this place did to him, and that gained  him a reprieve from the torment of his memories.

She faced him, bristling with irritation and censure. 'Whereas if you  had a like button I'd personally start a worldwide petition to have it  obliterated and replaced with one that said loathe.'

He took her elbow and, despite her resistance, he led her to an  exquisitely laid out buffet table. 'We'll discuss my various buttons  later. Right now you need to eat something before you wither away. I  noticed you didn't eat any breakfast this morning.'

She glared at him. 'I had my usual bowl of muesli and fresh fruit.'

'Was that before or after you spent two hours on my beach contorting yourself in unthinkable shapes in the name of exercise?'

'It's called Krav Maga. It works the mind as well as the body.'

He let his gaze rake her from top to toe. 'I don't dispute the effects  on the body. But I don't think it's quite working on the mind.'

He stopped another outraged gasp by stuffing a piece of chicken into her  mouth. Her only option, other than spitting it out, was to chew, but  that didn't stop her glaring fiercely at him.

Rafael was so busy enjoying the way he got under her skin that he didn't  hear the low hum of the electric wheelchair until it was too late.

'Buenos tardes, mi hijo. I've been looking for you.' The greeting was  low and deep. It didn't hold any censure or hatred or flaying judgement.  In fact it sounded just exactly as it would were a loving father  greeting his beloved son.

But every nerve of Rafael's being screeched with white-hot pain. His  fist clenched around his walking stick until the metal dug  excruciatingly into his palm. For the life of him, he couldn't let go.  He sucked in a breath as his vision blurred. Before the red haze  completely dulled his vision, he saw Raven's concerned look as her eyes  darted between him and the wheelchair-bound figure.

'Rafael?'

He couldn't find the words to respond to the greeting. Nor could he find the words to stem Raven's escalating concern.

Dios mío, he couldn't even find the courage to turn around. Because how  the hell could he explain to Raven that he and he alone was responsible  for making his father a quadriplegic?





 CHAPTER THREE

'DO YOU WANT to talk about it?'

'The therapy in your job title pertains only to my body, not my mind. You'll do well to remember that.'

Raven should've heeded the icy warning, should've just kept her hands on  the wheel of the luxury SUV and kept driving towards the stunning glass  and steel structure that was Rafael's home on the other side of the de  Cervantes estate from his brother's villa.

But her senses jumped at the aura of acute pain that had engulfed Rafael  the moment he'd turned around to face the old man in the electric  wheelchair. The same pain that surrounded him now. Grey lips were  pinched into a thin line, his jaw carved from stone and fingers clamped  around his walking stick in a white-knuckled grip. Even his breathing  had changed. His broad chest rose and fell in an uncharacteristically  shallow rhythm that screamed his agitation.