The Innocent's Secret Baby(11)

'Lydia?'

He guided her to a chair, and it was like folding wood trying to get her to sit down, but finally he did.

Lydia could hear her own rapid breathing as Raul went over and flicked on a light, and she knew he was right.

She was angry.

He saw her pale face and the red hand mark, and Raul's own anger coiled  his gut tight. But he kept his voice even. 'What happened?'

'I told Maurice that I shan't be his puppet and neither shall I be returning home.'

He came to her and knelt down, and his hand went to her swollen cheek.

'Did he hit you anywhere else?'

'No.' She shook her head. 'I'm fine. Really I am.'

Raul frowned, because there were no tears-it was suppressed rage that glittered in her eyes.

'Do you want me to go and sort him out?'

'I would hate that.'

He rather guessed that she would.

'Please?' he said, and saw that she gave a small smile.

'No.'

He would do so later.

Right now, though, Raul's concern was Lydia. He stood and looked around.  There was a woman in his hotel suite, and for the first time Raul  didn't know what to do with her.

Lydia too looked around, and she was starting to calm.

She saw the champagne and the flowers, and the room that had been  prepared for them, and cringed at her own behaviour. She had asked for  romance and he had delivered, and then she'd thrust herself on him.

'Can we pretend the last fifteen minutes never happened?' Lydia asked.         

     



 

'You want me to go back to licking your feet?'

Lydia laughed.

Not a lot, but on a night when laughter should be an impossible task somehow she did.

She felt calmer.

Though she was shaken, and embarrassed at foisting herself upon Raul,  now that she had stood up to Maurice she felt clearer in the head than  she had in years.

'Do you want a drink?'

She nodded.

'What would you like?'

And she could see his amber drink and still taste it on her tongue.

'The same as you.'

'So, what happened?' Raul asked, and she answered as he crossed the suite.

'A necessary confrontation, and one that's been a long time coming,' she  admitted. 'I've hated him since the day my mother first brought him  home.'

'How long after your father died?'

'Eighteen months. Maurice had all these lavish ideas for the castle-decided to use it for weddings.'

'I hate weddings,' Raul said, taking the stopper off the bottle and  pouring her a drink. 'Imagine having to deal with one every week.'

'They're not every week-unfortunately. Sometimes in the summer...' Her  voice trailed off mid-sentence and Raul knew why. He was minus his  shirt, and with his back to her, therefore Lydia must have seen his  scar.

She had.

It was the sort of scar that at first glance could stop a conversation.

A jagged fault line on a perfect landscape, for he was muscled and  defined, but then she frowned as she focused on the thinner lines.

A not so perfect landscape.

Oh, so badly she wanted to know more about this man.

But Lydia remembered her manners and cleared her throat and resumed talking.

'In the summer they used to be weekly, but the numbers have been dwindling.'

'Why?' Raul asked, and handed her the drink. He was grateful that she  had said nothing about the scars. He loathed it when women asked about  them, as if one night with him meant access to his past.

And it was always just one night.

Lydia took a sip. In truth it had tasted better on his tongue, but it  was warming and pleasant and she focused on that for a moment. But then  Raul asked the question again.

'Why are the numbers dwindling?'

'Because when people book a luxury venue they expect luxury at every turn, but Maurice cuts corners.'

He had heard that so many times.

In fact Raul had made his fortune from just that. He generally bought hotels on their last legs and turned them into palaces.

The Grande Lucia was a different venture-this hotel was a palace  already, and that was why he was no longer considering making the  purchase.

'Maurice is always after the quick fix,' Lydia said, and then stilled when she heard the buzzing of her phone.

'It's him,' Lydia said.

'I'll speak to him for you,' Raul said, and went to pick it up.

'Please don't.' Her voice was very clear. 'You would only make things worse.'

'How?'

'You won't be the one dealing with the fallout.'

And, yes, he could deal with Maurice tonight, but who would that really  help? Oh, it might make Raul feel better, and Maurice certainly deserved  it, but Lydia was right-it wouldn't actually help things in the long  run, given he wouldn't be around.

'Turn your phone off,' Raul suggested, but she shook her head.

'I can't-he'll call my mother and she'll be worried.'

Raul wasn't so sure about that. He rather guessed that Lydia's mother  would more likely be annoyed that Lydia hadn't meekly gone along with  their plans.

He watched as her phone rang again, but when she looked at it this time, instead of being angry she screwed her eyes closed.

'Maurice?'

'No, it's my mother.'

'Ignore it.'

'I can't,' Lydia said. 'He must have told her I've run off.' Her phone  fell silent, but Lydia knew it wouldn't stay like that for very long.  'I'll ring her and tell her I'm safe. I shan't tell her where I am-just  that I'm fine. Can I...?' She gestured to the double doors and it was  clear that Lydia wanted some privacy to make the call.

'Of course.'

It was a bedroom.

Her first time in a man's bedroom, and it was so far from the circumstances she had hoped for that it was almost laughable.

It had been an almost perfect night, yet it was ruined now. Lydia sat on  the bed and cringed as she recalled her entrance into his suite.

Lydia was very used to hiding her true feelings, yet Raul seemed to bring them bubbling up to the surface.

Right now, though, she needed somehow to snap back to efficient  mode-though it was hard when she heard her mother's accusatory voice.         

     



 

'What the hell are you playing at, Lydia?'

'I'm not playing at anything.'

'You know damn well how important this trip is!'

A part of Lydia had hoped for her mother to take her side. To agree that  Maurice's behaviour tonight had been preposterous and tell her that of  course Lydia didn't have to agree to anything she didn't want to do.

It had been foolish to hope.

Instead Lydia sat there as her mother told her how charming Bastiano  was, how he'd been nothing but a gentleman to date, and asked how she  dared embarrass the family like this.

And then, finally, her mother was honest.

'It's time you stepped up...'

'Bastiano doesn't even know me,' Lydia pointed out. 'We've spoken, at best, a couple of times.'

'Lydia, it's time to get your head out of the clouds. I've done  everything I can to keep us from going under. For whatever reason,  Bastiano has taken an interest in you...'

Lydia didn't hear much of the rest.

For whatever reason...

As if it was unfathomable that someone might simply want her for no other reason than they simply did.

It was Lydia who ended the call, and after sitting for a few minutes in  silence she looked up when there was a knock at the door.

'Come in,' Lydia said, and then gave a wry smile as Raul entered-it was his bedroom, after all.

'How did it go with your mother?'

'Not very well,' Lydia admitted. 'I'm being overly dramatic, apparently.'

'Why don't you have a bath?'

'A bath!' A laugh shot out of her pale lips at his odd suggestion.

'It might relax you. There's one already run.'

'I'm guessing I wouldn't have been bathing alone, had I come up the first time.'

'Plans change,' Raul said. 'Give me your phone and go and wind down.'

'You won't answer it?' Lydia checked.

'No,' Raul said.

Her family was persistent.

Raul, though, was stubborn.

The phone continued to buzz, but rather than turn it off Raul went back  to lying on the bed, as he had been when Lydia had arrived.

And that was how she found him.

The bath had been soothing. Lydia had lain in the fragrant water, terribly glad of his suggestion to leave her phone.

It had given her a chance to calm down and to regroup.

'They've been calling,' Raul told her by way of greeting.

'I thought that they might.' Lydia sighed. 'I doubt they'll give up if  Bastiano hasn't. Apparently Maurice has said he'll meet him tomorrow and  I'm supposed to be there.'

'And what did you say?'

'No, of course-but it's not just about dinner with Bastiano...'

'Of course it's not,' Raul agreed.

'I think he wants sex.'

'He wants more than sex, Lydia. He wants to marry you. He thinks you'd  make a very nice trophy wife. Bastiano wants to be King of your castle.'

He watched for her reaction and as always she surprised him, because Lydia just gave a shrug.

'I wouldn't be the first to marry for money.'

And though the thought appalled her it did not surprise her.

'I doubt my mother married Maurice for his sparkling personality,' Lydia  said, and Raul gave a small nod that told her he agreed. 'Would you  marry for money?' Lydia asked.

'No,' Raul said, 'but that's not from any moral standpoint-I just would never marry.'

'Why?'

'I've generally run out of conversation by the morning. I can't imagine  keeping one going with the same person for the rest of my life.'

He did make her smile.

And he put her at ease.

No, that wasn't the word, because ease wasn't what she felt around him.

She felt like herself.

Whoever that was.

Lydia had never really been allowed to find out.