‘You have more principle than a whole convent of nuns,’ Javier growled sarcastically. ‘Perhaps it’s a good thing that I’m going away for a while.’ He swung his legs over the side of the bed and thrust his arms into his robe before striding over to the en suite.
‘Away? Where?’
‘Madrid. I have a series of meetings at the bank’s head office and a number of social invitations that suddenly look like a lot more fun than staying here with you.’
‘Won’t your friends think it strange if you turn up alone?’ Grace snapped, stung by his bitter contempt. ‘I thought we were supposed to be fostering the illusion that we’re a couple of lovebirds.’
‘I’ll think of an excuse for your absence—tell them you’re ill or something,’ he told her indifferently. ‘Although I suppose there’s a danger that they’ll believe you’re pregnant. Little do they know it would be the Immaculate Conception,’ he muttered sardonically. ‘Anyway, I won’t be alone; Lucita’s coming with me. She’s persuaded her father that it’s time she hit Madrid’s social scene,’ he added when Grace’s eyebrows shot up.
‘And you’ve been appointed her babysitter?’ She forced her voice to sound disinterested, but inside she was a seething mass of confused emotions. ‘How trying for you.’
‘I’m sure I’ll survive—at least Lucita knows how to enjoy herself.’
‘I bet she does,’ Grace said grittily, remembering how the stunning Spanish girl had flirted outrageously with Javier at a dinner party they’d attended recently. ‘Isn’t she a little young for you?’
‘Why, querida, I could almost believe you’re jealous.’ Javier paused in the doorway of the bathroom and gave her a bland smile.
‘Well I’m not, so don’t flatter yourself,’ she told him waspishly. ‘I shall look forward to a bit of peace and quiet when you’ve gone, so don’t hurry back.’
Two weeks later Grace dismally acknowledged that Javier seemed to be in no tearing rush to return to the castle. His excuse was an unexpectedly heavy workload—problems at the bank’s head office—and certainly he’d sounded tired on the few occasions he’d phoned her. But perhaps his exhaustion and reluctance to come home were for other reasons? Twice she had telephoned his Madrid apartment—on a flimsy excuse that she’d spent ages thinking up—only to have her call answered by a woman whose sensual, exotic accent caused jealousy to eat away at her like acid.
It had not been Lucita—the sexy voice had definitely belonged to a sophisticated woman of the world rather than a teenager. So who had Javier been entertaining in his bachelor pad at almost ten p.m.—one of his ex-mistresses? She should have plucked up the courage to ask him, Grace told herself impatiently, rather than slamming the phone down and spending another sleepless night imagining him making love to some stunning beauty in his bedroom with the mirrored ceiling.
She didn’t understand why she was so upset, she told Luca. Like her, Javier’s dog was also pining for his master, and he followed Grace around the castle like a faithful shadow. Now he padded over and laid his big head in her lap, looking up at her with his unblinking black eyes.
‘I don’t care what he gets up to, or who he’s with,’ she told the dog fiercely. But she had a feeling that Luca knew she was lying. The castillo was a quiet and sombre place without the Duque, and now that he was gone she realised just how much time they had spent together. ‘Is it so wrong to admit that I miss him?’ she whispered, burying her face in Luca’s silky coat. ‘But if I feel like this now, how much worse will I feel when our marriage ends?’ Luca licked her hand sympathetically and she patted him. ‘I’m not in love with him,’ she told the animal seriously. ‘I just can’t stop thinking about him, that’s all.’
It was another three days before she heard the whir of Javier’s helicopter as it came in low over the mountains. Standing in the garden, Grace shielded her eyes with her hand to watch it land and then, on impulse, fled upstairs to change out of her shorts and tee shirt into one of the elegant day dresses that filled her wardrobe. Her fingers were shaking as she untied her hair so that it fell loose around her shoulders. She didn’t want to look as though she’d made an effort, she told herself sternly, but couldn’t resist applying a touch of lipgloss to her mouth and spraying her wrists liberally with perfume.
Javier was home and suddenly even the ancient stone walls of the castle seemed to be smiling. As she hurried through the front door she saw him striding across the courtyard, and was unprepared for the effect the sight of him had on her. Her heart seemed to stop beating and then started again at twice its normal pace. Butterflies were dancing in her stomach and her hands were clammy as her greedy eyes absorbed the harsh beauty of his face.