The Spanish Duke's Virgin Bride(49)

‘Come home with me, Grace—you belong with me,’ he muttered hoarsely when at last he lifted his head and traced the swollen contours of her lips with his thumb pad.

Was he referring to the terms of their marriage contract? Suddenly it no longer seemed to matter, Grace thought softly. All she cared about was being with the man she loved—for however long he wanted her. And, giving him a smile that pierced his soul, she hurried up the stairs to pack.





CHAPTER TEN




‘I HAVE to be in Madrid for a few days,’ Javier told Grace when he parked in the underground car park of his apartment block and ushered her into the lift. ‘I thought you might like to spend some time in the city before we return to the castillo.’

She didn’t mind where she was as long as she was with Javier, Grace thought silently, hoping that her cool smile disguised the frantic excitement that had been building inside her since she’d stepped aboard his private jet. She’d missed him during the few weeks they’d spent apart, but it was only now, as she studied the harsh planes of his face, that she realised just how much she had ached for him.

How would she ever survive without him? she wondered fearfully as they travelled up in the lift. Nine months from now their contract would expire and they would go their separate ways, but she would never be free of him. Her soul had recognised him as her other half, and when they parted she would spend the rest of her life feeling incomplete.

‘It’s getting late and you must be tired—you’ve spent most of the day in the air,’ she murmured, glancing at him across the large and rather soulless lounge. ‘Where did you put my case? In the master bedroom, I suppose,’ she added, a tremor running through her at the thought of sharing his bed once more. She’d never slept with him at the apartment, and the thought of staring up at the mirror above his bed and watching the reflection of his golden limbs caused liquid heat to flood through her veins. Surely tonight he would follow up the promise in his eyes and take her into his arms, rather than keeping strictly to his side of the mattress?

Javier strolled over to the bar and offered her a drink. When she shook her head he poured a measure of whisky into a glass and gulped it down. ‘I put your bag in the bedroom at the end of the hall, where you slept before.’ He paused fractionally and then continued, ‘From now on I’ve decided you will sleep in your own room, both here and at the castillo.’

Grace felt her heart plummet to her toes at his unexpected statement. ‘I see,’ she murmured, not seeing at all. What had she done wrong? He couldn’t have made it clearer that he no longer wanted her, and she must have been mistaken when she’d thought she’d seen desire in his eyes.

Javier seemed to be fascinated by the night-time view over Madrid and stared resolutely out of the window. ‘I was wrong to demand that you share my bed…or to expect you to sacrifice the values that are so important to you,’ he told her harshly. ‘You’ll have to put it down to the fact that I’ve never met a woman with principles before—but then, you’re not like other women, are you, querida?’ He turned his head then and his mouth curved into a smile that did not reach his eyes as he absorbed her stunned expression.

‘I can’t claim to share your blind faith in everlasting love and fairy-tale happy endings, but I’ve realised that I have no right to try and destroy your beliefs, or to spoil your sweet innocence with my cynicism. For the remainder of our marriage, I promise that you will spend every night in the privacy of your own room.’

Grace blinked at him, lost for words. ‘Thank you,’ she croaked at last. He was obviously expecting her to be pleased with the new sleeping arrangements, and her pride wouldn’t allow her to reveal that she was devastated at the prospect of losing the intimacy they’d once shared.

‘You don’t look very happy. What’s wrong now?’ he queried, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sudden droop of her mouth.

‘I was simply curious about your sudden change of heart,’ she muttered. ‘I assume it has something to do with your mistress staying here with you while you left me behind in Granada?’

His brows rose fractionally. ‘I don’t have a mistress.’

‘Oh, come on, I may be innocent but I’m not stupid. On each occasion I phoned you, a woman answered my call—and it wasn’t Lucita,’ she added sharply, unable to disguise the sick jealousy in her voice.

‘No, Lucita’s staying with her cousin on the other side of town,’ Javier agreed equably. ‘The only woman who has been here is Pilar—my housekeeper,’ he explained when Grace frowned.