November Harlequin Presents 2(110)

Lucita had to be lying, she thought feverishly. The man she had fallen in love with wasn’t capable of such callous behaviour. There was only one way that she could settle her fears, and that was to ask him outright if there had been an additional clause in Carlos’s will—before she told him of her suspicions that she was pregnant.

She scanned the room, frantically searching for his tall, lean frame. He always stood out in a crowd, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. Her eyes swung to the wide, recessed window just in time to witness Lucita put her arm around him and kiss him fully on the cheek. Far from looking annoyed, Javier threw back his head and laughed, and for Grace it was the final straw. Bile burned a corrosive path in her throat, and with a muffled sob she ran from the room, stopping only to inform Torres that she felt unwell and was retiring to her room. She knew the butler would immediately pass on the news to Javier, but somehow she doubted he would care—he had his hands full, quite literally, with his sexy Spanish seductress.





CHAPTER ELEVEN




‘GRACE, unlock the door or I swear I’ll break it down.’

Grace sat huddled on the end of the bed, and watched the heavy wooden door rattle in its frame. Javier wasn’t joking—any minute now she feared that the door would actually give way beneath the force of his blows. Dared she let him in? She didn’t know what to say to him, how to face him without revealing her heartbreak that had seen her spend the last hour weeping silently into the pillows.

‘Grace! Are you ill? Torres said you felt unwell. Speak to me, damn it.’ There followed a torrent of swearwords in low-pitched Spanish, a brief silence and then the sound of something heavy being rammed against the door.

Never mind knocking the door down, he was going to bring the castle crumbling around their ears, Grace thought angrily as she scrambled off the bed and marched over to the door. She turned the key and yanked the door wide open, just as he was about to land another blow with one of the solid oak chairs that usually stood in the hallway.

‘What do you want?’

‘What do I want?’ He slowly lowered the chair and glowered at her, looking so devastatingly sexy with his shirt buttons half-undone and his hair flopping onto his brow that despite everything her knees felt weak, and she gripped the door frame for support. ‘An explanation would be nice, querida,’ he drawled sardonically. ‘Do you have a valid reason for your temper tantrum, or is it simply a bid for attention?’

‘At least you’re honest enough to admit that it was necessary for me to do something to drag you away from Lucita’s juvenile charms,’ Grace replied sweetly. ‘Tell me truthfully, Javier, why didn’t you just marry her when you had the chance, rather than putting us all through this whole miserable charade?’

‘By “miserable charade” I take it you are referring to our marriage?’ Javier growled savagely, his eyes glittering with fury as he pushed her backwards into the room and kept on pushing until she hit the bed with the backs of her legs and collapsed onto the mattress. In the lamplight he could plainly see the streaks of tears on her cheeks, and his eyes narrowed. ‘What’s all this about, hmm?’ he queried in a softer tone. ‘Did Lucita say something to upset you? I know she’s a little tease at times, but she means no harm.’

‘Doesn’t she?’ Grace gave a bitter laugh. ‘Well, you know her better than me. Do you think I didn’t notice the way you let her put her arms around you tonight?’ He’d been lavishing the Spanish girl with the tender affection that she so desperately craved.

‘I’ve known her since she was a baby!’ Javier said explosively. ‘I suppose I regard her as the little sister I never had.’

‘How sweet! And do you confide in your “sister”, Javier? Do you tell her your most personal secrets—like the reason why you married me?’

‘I’ve told no one,’ he denied forcefully. ‘The only person aware of the stipulations my grandfather made in will is his lawyer, Ramon Aguilar.’

Stipulations—so there had been more than one, Grace noted with a shiver. Lucita hadn’t been lying; the final clause in Carlos Herrera’s will, must have been for Javier to produce an heir before he could secure his place as head of the Herrera bank. Suddenly she felt bone weary and she longed to crawl away to a dark place and lick her wounds. ‘Well, Lucita knows, and you told her.’ She flung the accusation at him. ‘You must have done—how else would she have known?’ she added when he loomed over her, flames of fury dancing in his amber gaze.