‘It’s not all right—I shouldn’t be doing this. I don’t love you,’ she told him wildly, shaking her head so fiercely that her hair fell forwards and covered her breasts. ‘I don’t hate your touch—that much is obvious—but I hate myself,’ she whispered brokenly.
‘But we’re married!’ Javier said explosively. ‘If you won’t make love with me when you’re my wife, what the hell would you have done if I’d only offered to help your father in return for you becoming my mistress?’
Grace shivered. ‘I would have done anything to save Dad from prison,’ she said honestly. ‘I was even prepared to have sex with you, although it went against everything I believe in, but I’d planned on getting drunk first so that I wouldn’t remember too much about it.’
Javier rolled onto his back and swore savagely in his native tongue. ‘You are so good for my ego, querida. Why don’t you just kick me between the legs and have done with it?’
Again Grace caught a raw note of pain mixed with his anger and she bit her lip. Was it possible that she’d hurt him? For some curious reason the thought made her want to cry. ‘I’m sorry, but you knew how I felt. For me, love and desire are inextricably linked, and one day I hope I’ll meet someone who values my heart as well as my body.’
‘You’re prepared to deny your body the pleasure it craves for the sake of a misguided belief in a fairy tale?’ Javier demanded scathingly. ‘Well, I wish you joy on your pedestal of self-righteousness, but if you ever decide to join the real world let me know, because however much you want to deny it I am the only man who turns you on.’
CHAPTER NINE
PALE slivers of sunlight filtered through the curtains and slanted across the pillows. With a soft sigh Grace opened her eyes, the sight of Javier’s face so close to hers making her heart leap, as it had done every morning for the past two months.
Two months—the time she’d spent at El Castillo de Leon—had passed so quickly, but rather than hoping that the next ten months went as swiftly she found herself wishing that time would stand still.
What was he doing to her, this magician who had cast his spell over her? She stared at him, noting how his long black lashes brushed against his cheeks, softening his hard features. In sleep he looked more relaxed, almost boyish, and she felt her heart swell with emotion. When she’d first met him she had believed him to be in league with the devil, and had never expected that she could care for him. But during these first months of their marriage she’d learned that the Duque de Herrera did have a heart—he just kept it well hidden beneath a veneer of cold indifference.
Not that he was cold towards her, she conceded as she propped her head on her elbow in order to study him more clearly. Although he was often busy working in his study, or at the Herrera bank’s offices in Granada, he seemed to go out of his way to spend time with her. Often he would take a break and ask her to walk with him in the grounds of the castle, and at dinner each night he was a witty and amusing companion who flirted with her unashamedly and made her long to accept the bold invitation in his eyes.
But since the traumatic last night of their honeymoon he had made no further attempts to make love to her, and the only time he kissed her was in front of the castle staff—presumably to reinforce the belief that their marriage was real. That was the reason he had insisted she must sleep in his bed, but once they were alone together each night he took scrupulous care not to touch her.
She couldn’t fault his behaviour, she thought dismally. True, he would often stroll naked between the bedroom and en-suite bathroom with a nonchalant ease that made her blush. But he always donned a pair of silk boxers before he climbed into bed, and within minutes of dimming the light he was asleep, while she lay awake half the night, tormented by the desire to sidle over to his side of the mattress.
Lust, love—she was so confused that she didn’t know where one ended and the other began and she was beginning not to care. Javier dominated her thoughts, and she couldn’t bear to think ahead to a time when he would no longer need to keep up the pretence of a happily married man. When she had agreed to his marriage proposition, she had promised that she would never fall in love with him. Now she wasn’t so sure.
But that was a dangerous path to follow, she acknowledged bleakly as she rolled onto her back and stared up at the billowing drapes above the four-poster bed. Day by day, little by little, Javier was encroaching on her heart, but there was no chance he would ever love her, and ten months from now he would evict her from his life with the ruthless efficiency for which he was renowned.