Could those few careless moments of pleasure have resulted in her conceiving Javier’s child? A tremor ran through her, a mixture of fear and incredulous joy, as for a few seconds she imagined cradling his baby in her arms. Reality swiftly intruded. What would Javier think? It was safe to say that a child had not been part of his game plan, she realised bleakly. Her heart gave a tiny flutter of hope—maybe he would be pleased?
‘Are you feeling unwell, Grace? You look even paler than usual,’ Lucita Vasquez commented as she slid into the space on the small sofa next to Grace.
‘I’m fine, just a little nauseous, that’s all,’ Grace replied, pushing her coffee cup to the far side of the table. ‘Too much rich food, I’m afraid,’ she added when Lucita studied her speculatively. The young Spanish girl looked ravishing with her silky black curls dancing on her shoulders and her voluptuous curves emphasised by the clingy material of her white dress. With her huge gold hoop earrings and bangles on her wrist she looked both elegant and sexy, and a lot older than her teenage years.
She stared at Grace for a few moments, her black eyes gleaming before she gave a tight smile. ‘Rich food?’ she taunted softly ‘I don’t think so. My sister has three children, and she couldn’t bear the smell of coffee during her pregnancies. Perhaps there’s another reason for your pale complexion.’
Grace took a sharp breath but found that she couldn’t meet the younger woman’s knowing gaze. ‘I could be wrong, it’s not confirmed,’ she muttered. But even as she spoke the words she knew—with a feminine instinct as old as time—that she was pregnant.
‘So, Javier’s plan has worked,’ Lucita hissed, her pretty face suddenly as sharp as a weasel. ‘I must hand it to him—getting himself a wife and an heir within the allotted year is quite an achievement, even for a stallion like him.’
‘What do you mean?’ Grace demanded as an inexplicable feeling of dread coiled in her stomach. ‘You know nothing about my marriage.’
‘I know everything,’ Lucita stated confidently. ‘I know Javier only married you to secure his position as head of El Banco de Herrera, and I also know that he decided to use the year that he was saddled with a wife to fulfil the terms of his grandfather’s will and father the next Herrera heir.’
For a few horrific seconds the room swayed and Grace gripped the edge of the table. She couldn’t faint—not now, in front of Lucita’s mocking gaze. She licked her parched lips and stared at the other girl, noting the gleam of triumph in her black eyes. ‘Who told you?’ she whispered, aware that continuing with the pretence of a happy bride was futile when Lucita was so cock-sure of herself. ‘Was it Javier?’ she demanded, feeling sick to her stomach when the girl merely smiled knowingly.
‘Never mind, Grace, Javier won’t file for divorce until after you’ve given birth to his baby,’ Lucita drawled. ‘Naturally, he’ll insist that the child lives with him at El Castillo de Leon, but I’m sure he’ll allow you to visit from time to time.’
Grace stumbled to her feet, suddenly desperate to escape from Lucita’s spiteful tongue. ‘Nothing will ever separate me from my child, do you hear me? Nothing! Why are you telling me all this anyway? You’re delusional if you think Javier will ever turn to you. He could have married you and claimed control of your father’s bank as well El Banco de Herrera, but he considered you too young.’
Lucita’s lips thinned but she replied coolly, ‘That’s right. We planned to wait a few years, until I’d finished my education. But under the terms of Carlos’s will Javier had to marry immediately. That’s the only reason he chose you.’
Grace couldn’t deny the intrinsic truth of the Spanish girl’s statement and, not trusting herself to make any further comment, she hurried across the room towards the French doors, in desperate need of fresh air. It wasn’t true, she told herself over and over again—Javier could be ruthless when he wanted his own way, but he would never have deliberately made love to her without protection to ensure that she conceived his child.
But he had purposefully withheld knowledge of the clause in his grandfather’s will that demanded he produce an heir, she acknowledged bleakly. Instinctively her hands moved to her stomach. He wasn’t a cruel man—he had shown her kindness and consideration as well as passion during the first half of their marriage. Had it all been a ploy to lull her into a false sense of security before he demanded custody of her baby?