Valaquez Bride Read online

  As he surveyed her delicate features intently, he allowed his gaze to drift down and linger on her soft, slightly parted lips. He shook his head, whispering, "No. I'm not hurting you and I don't want to let you go. Yet."

  He began to pull her slowly toward him and Juliet's free hand came up to press against his hard chest, an involuntary attempt to protect herself. "Raul, please," she whispered breathlessly. "Let me go."

  As the iciness returned to his eyes and he lifted his broad shoulders in a bored shrug and released her wrist, Juliet swiftly stepped away from him, her own gaze unwittingly reproachful. "Why are you here?" she asked impulsively. "I mean, since Uncle Will's not here, why did you come?"

  "Rosita called me at the gallery to tell me you'd come home." Raul's expression hardened though he gave Juliet a mocking smile. "She knew I was going to visit Will at the hospital and suggested I take you with me since you meant to go tonight too."

  Damn Rosita and her foolish interference, Juliet fumed silently, clenching and unclenching her hands at her sides. Though she knew the housekeeper had meant well, she wished she had minded her own business. This confrontation with Raul was the last thing Juliet had needed. As usual, simply seeing Raul was enough to upset her equilibrium. She was certain she would never be able to maintain even a semblance of composure if she went with him to the hospital. Bending her head, veiling her eyes with the thick fringe of her long, brown lashes, she murmured, "I'd rather see Uncle Will alone and since it's already seven-thirty, why don't you go visit him now? I'll drive over later."

  "No. I'll take you with me," Raul replied, his sensuously carved lips thinning into a grim line of warning when she started to protest. Then those cold green eyes raked mercilessly over her. "Go change into some decent clothes, preferably a dress. Your free spirited singer might not mind if you look like a derelict but I do, and so will Will. And I don't think it will inconvenience you too much to look presentable when you see him for the first time in nearly a year."

  Bristling at his demanding manner and supercilious tone, Juliet thrust out her small chin defiantly and tugged her light blue T-shirt down over her slim jean clad hips, inadvertently emphasizing the round fullness of her breasts. When Raul deliberately allowed his narrowing eyes to drift downward and linger, she released her shirttail immediately but, though she blushed, she succeeded in meeting his now amused gaze without flinching. "I'll have you know I'd planned to change clothes but now that you've made such a big deal of it, I think I'll just go to the hospital in my jeans."

  Raul cursed softly. One long stride brought him so close to Juliet that she was forced to press against the cool white wall behind her to avoid his body brushing against her own. His large brown hands gripped her upper arms. "Didn't I just tell you not to try my patience?" he asked, his voice deceptively soft. "Your adolescent behavior has caused your uncle and my family enough trouble, Juliet. I promise you I won't tolerate your juvenile tricks now or ever again. So, you'd better go upstairs and change to a dress right now or I'll carry you up and change your clothes for you. Understood?"

  The light that flared in his jade green eyes both frightened her and incited her to violence at the same moment. She wrenched free of him; her hand swung out, her palm open as if she meant to deliver a stinging slap to his face, but before she could make contact with his cheek, he moved swiftly to catch her wrist. He smiled tauntingly as she called him a none-too-complimentary name. Then his muscular arm glided around her slender waist, tightened and hauled her close against his long, lean body. His hand pressed hers against his chest. "You're playing with fire," he muttered ominously. "I don't think you realize what I'd like to do to you right now."

  Juliet could guess, though his intense reaction to her attempted slap astonished her. Beneath her trembling fingers his heart was beating strongly, rapidly, and she knew its fast pace was not a result of the little effort it had taken for him to subdue her. His response to her foolish show of bravado was wholly masculine and suddenly she was scared. She had never seen him like this before, with a relentless glittering in his eyes. The hard inflexible contours of his body conveyed the same relentless message and when he lowered his dark head, her breath caught. "All right, all right," she whispered haltingly, straining back against the muscular arm around her slender waist. "I'll go put on a dress. Just let me go. Now, please."

  A grim yet triumphant smile tugged at the corners of his sensuously carved mouth as he released her, saying mockingly, "A very wise decision, Juliet."

  She couldn't even think of a retort to utter. Unable to bear being close to him a second longer, she turned and walked out of the sala with as much dignity as she could muster. As she trudged up the stairs a moment later, she massaged her throbbing temples with shaky fingers. Tears of sheer frustration burned threateningly behind her eyes. She was shocked at the depth of Raul's resentment. Why should he care that she hadn't wanted to marry Pablo? Keen as he was about arranged marriages, he should have logically planned a more suitable marriage for his brother, a marriage to some aristocratic girl instead of a mere commoner like her.

  Thoroughly confused, Juliet walked into her old bedroom without even noticing the gleaming hardwood floors, the simple, yet elegant, mahogany furniture or the cool aquamarine draperies and bed coverlet that provided bright accents to the room's decor. Chewing her lower lip, she stared blindly out one wide window, gaining no pleasure from the panoramic vista of the snow-tipped Sierra Nevadas rising majestically in the distance. A soft sigh escaped her. This confrontation with Raul had been the worst possible way to begin this visit. Maybe he saw her lack of interest in Pablo as an affront to the precious Valaquez family honor. And if he did, he would undoubtedly make her stay in Granada as unpleasant as possible.

  Grimacing, she shed her jeans and T-shirt to slip into a sleeveless linen dress of periwinkle blue that enhanced her fair complexion and the fiery highlights of her auburn hair. But after stepping into cream-colored espadrilles and going to stand before the cheval glass, she hardly noticed her reflection. Her mind was occupied with matters far more important than mere appearance.

  She had never realized Raul could be the way he had been tonight—mocking and deliberately hurtful. Last year, he had actually seemed very fond of her and her only complaint had been that he didn't see her as a desirable young woman rather than a child. It was difficult to believe that same man was now so mercilessly taunting. And he had actually tried to lay the blame for last year's marriage fiasco at her feet! She had once foolishly assumed he was a fair-minded man but now it was apparent that she hadn't known the real Raul Valaquez very well at all. She couldn't have known him because the man awaiting her downstairs seemed a total stranger, a dangerous stranger she knew intuitively she would be extremely foolhardy to antagonize any more than she already had.

  Dread dragged at her stomach and with a muttered imprecation, she went to the vanity across the room. Sitting down before the oval mirror, she brushed her thick russet hair with long thorough strokes, postponing going downstairs again as long as she possibly could. But with the sudden realization that Raul might tire of waiting and come up to get her, she hastily put down her brush and hurried out her door.

  The ride to the hospital in Raul's elegant cream BMW was silent and excruciatingly tense. Juliet sat as close as possible to the far edge of the brown leather passenger seat and clutched her straw purse in her lap. Staring out her window at the black velvet, star-studded sky, she tried not to think about the man beside . her but failed miserably. The lean brown hand that was casually gripping the steering wheel evoked the unbidden memory of how she had felt that evening they had danced together and that same hand had curved almost possessively into the insweep of her slim waist. Why did he have to be so damned attractive and magnetic? And why was she such a sap? Considering his insulting treatment of her tonight, she knew she shouldn't see anything at all attractive about him. It simply wasn't logical for her to even be aware of his male magnetism, yet she realized rather bleakly that
logic had little to do with her responses sometimes. And this was one of those times. With an inward sigh of resignation, she closed her eyes.

  After a moment, she reopened them, actually noticing the plush interior of the car for the first time. Judging by this expensive vehicle and by Raul's tailor-made suit, the Valaquez family fortunes obviously hadn't suffered any losses in the past year, not that she had really thought they might have. Raul was well-known as one of Spain's most successful young entrepreneurs and now she could imagine why he was so successful. If he was as ruthless in his business dealings as he had been with her tonight, he couldn't fail to succeed.

  Her wry smile faded abruptly when she suddenly sensed Raul was watching her but when she looked at him, he turned his attention back to the narrow winding streets of the city without a word. A slight confused frown knitted her smooth brow as she realized they were approaching Alhambra, rather than driving away from it, which they should have been.

  "This isn't the way to the hospital," she spoke up, her voice quavering as all sorts of crazy suspicions popped into her head. "Why are you going this way? Where are you taking me?"

  "To see Will," Raul answered, his low-timbered voice conveying more than a little impatience. "I had him transferred to a private clinic in the suburbs where he'll receive more personalized care."

  Juliet subsided into silence, feeling very much the fool. She really had to regain control of her emotions. Raul might be more ruthless than she'd ever imagined but he wouldn't resort to kidnapping, just for the sake of revenge. Still, despite the logic of that thought, she didn't really feel particularly safe until Raul turned off the road onto a winding paved drive that led across the lush grounds of what appeared to be an estate. It was the clinic, however, evidenced by the long low white building with its typically Spanish flat roof and arched arcade, gracing the front. Baskets hanging from the arches spilled over with the nodding blossoms of scarlet fuchsia. Well-tended palms were planted before each arch column and there was the clean fresh scent of orange and lemon in the cool night air. All in all, the clinic looked like one of those exclusive spas where the affluent go to escape the pressures of their lives and Juliet wondered how Uncle Will would be able to pay the bill for his stay here. He was by no means destitute but he wasn't a millionaire either and to stay in a place like this, it would certainly help to have a small fortune stashed away somewhere.

  After Raul opened Juliet's door and she got out of the car, he cupped her elbow in one large hand as they walked inside the clinic. Once in the spacious reception area, however, he allowed his hand to drop and moved away from her. Illogically, she almost regretted the distance he deliberately put between them, especially when the pretty young woman seated at the reception desk gave him a blatantly flirtatious smile and he returned it, then began to converse with her in Spanish. As they talked and laughed together, Juliet stood back feeling left out and berating herself for feeling that way. After all, she knew Raul disliked her immensely and also knew if she had good sense, she'd dislike him too. He had certainly given her no reason to nominate him for Spain's Mr. Congeniality award.

  Wandering away from the chatting couple, she went to stand before a painting displayed on a whitewashed wall. Seemingly endless rows of olive trees gleamed golden in an exquisite sunset and glancing down at the corner of the canvas, Juliet recognized the artist's name. The painter was one who frequently brought his work to Uncle Will's gallery but she couldn't recall her uncle mentioning that he had sold any paintings to a clinic. Perhaps he had made the sale within the past eleven months or perhaps Raul had sold it. Coming from such a prominent Granada family, she imagined he had connections with almost everybody who was somebody.

  Despite her firm resolution to completely ignore Raul and the flirtatious receptionist, Juliet couldn't prevent herself from glancing over her shoulder. Her cheeks warmed with color as she found Raul walking toward her, the parting smile he had given the receptionist fading from his lips and the warmth leaving his eyes as his gaze flicked over Juliet.

  "You wait here," he commanded brusquely. "I want to tell Will you've come. It might be too much of a shock to him if you just walk into his room. Sit down somewhere and I'll come for you in a few minutes."

  "Wait," Juliet said swiftly as he started to walk away. Before she thought, she reached out to lay her hand on his forearm, then quickly pulled it away when she felt his muscles tense beneath her fingers. She gestured uncertainly. "Is—why do you think my coming might shock him too much? Is he that badly injured? Rosita said he only had a broken leg and a concussion."

  "A fairly severe concussion," Raul responded tersely. "Will isn't a young man and when you see him, I think you'll realize he's changed since you left last June."

  On that ominous note, Raul walked away and Juliet felt a sinking sensation in her stomach. Too nervous to sit on one of the rattan chairs behind her, she stared up at the painting again but without really seeing it.

  Though she was still disappointed in her uncle for what he had done last year, she didn't want to think about that right now. She owed him so much. No one had expected him to take her in when she had become an orphan at age twelve and it would have been far simpler for him to allow her to become a ward of the state. But he hadn't and because he now needed her, Juliet couldn't really regret coming back to Granada, even if she did have to endure Raul's animosity.

  For the next long five minutes, Juliet paced the floor of the deserted waiting room, beginning to wonder if Raul was ever coming back. At last he did, but he neither smiled nor spoke a word as he led her out of the reception area, down a long corridor. Two nurses in white starched uniforms glided past them almost noiselessly, their feet making no sound on the cork-tiled floor. Only their skirts rustled softly as they hurried by. Raul stopped by the next-to-the-last door at the end of the hallway but before Juliet could take a step to precede him into the room, he caught her arm.

  "He's still weak and a little groggy so you can only stay five minutes." Hard green eyes bored into the amber depths of hers. "And whatever he says to you, you agree with him. Is that understood? I won't have you upsetting him."

  Juliet yanked her arm free, righteous indignation making her cheeks bloom with crimson color. "I can't imagine why you'd think I'd upset him!" she whispered furiously. "For God's sake, Raul, he's my uncle; I'd never do anything to hurt him! And I don't need you telling me how to act around sick people. Who do you think you are? The wise and powerful reincarnation of El Cid or something? Well, don't expect me to jump to your every command! I don't want you telling me what to do and how to act. You have no right to treat me like I'm a rather stupid child!"

  "Don't I, Juliet?" he countered with infuriating calm. "Considering how stupidly childish you acted last June, I think I have every right. As long as you act immature, I'll treat you accordingly."

  She glowered up at him, her fingers itching again to make stinging contact with his cheek. She ached to wipe that mocking, sardonic expression right off his face. Yet, she didn't dare slap him. This was a hospital after all, not exactly the place to start a fist fight. Besides, she suspected that if she ever struck Raul, retaliation would come swiftly and with such vengeance that she shuddered now with the very thought of what he might do to her. Oh, but she longed to hit him though, to flail at his chest with her fists for his mocking and supercilious attitude. And apparently her desire to do him some bodily harm revealed itself in her eyes.

  "Don't do anything you'll regret," he warned, his voice a low growl from deep in his throat, his eyes like glittering green ice. "Now, try acting your age for once and go in there and make Will feel like he's a little bit important to you."

  Vehement protest trembled on Juliet's lips but she had no time to voice her indignation. As Raul pushed open the door and his hand pressed against the small of her back, impelling her forward, she had no choice except to move into the room. She glanced back over her shoulder, her expression reproachful yet uncertain too. "Aren't you coming in with
me?"

  Raul shook his head. "You can only stay five minutes and Will wants to see you alone. I'll wait out here for you but just remember what I said. Don't do anything to upset him."

  "I got your message the first time, lord and master," Juliet whispered recklessly. "You don't have to repeat yourself." And with a rebellious uptilting of her chin, she left him in the doorway.

  Will McKay's private room was as quietly elegant as the reception area had been. Apricot draperies of silk covered a wide window and complemented the cream-colored walls and the furniture which was upholstered in natural earth tones. Juliet tiptoed into the room, approaching the bed with a concerned smile trembling on her lips and when her uncle turned his head on his pillow to return her smile, tears filled her eyes. Raul was right. Uncle Will had changed. There seemed to be more gray streaks in his thinning light brown hair and the lines on his face had deepened. To Juliet, he looked ten years older than he had last June and there was a fragility about him that nearly caused her to burst into tears. Yet, knowing she would upset him terribly by crying, she controlled her emotions and immediately took the thin blue-veined hand he extended to her.

  "You've lost weight," was his first comment.

  "Only a few pounds," she answered, relieved to see that his blue eyes were alert and appraising as they swept over her. "Besides, you're thinner too so don't fuss at me when you've obviously lost more weight than I have."

  Her teasing tone elicited a grin. "I can afford to lose weight. I'm an old man."

  "What nonsense. You're only as old as you feel and you always told me you felt like a teenager."

  "So I did," Will McKay replied, his grin beginning to fade. His thin fingers plucked at the crisp white sheet that covered him. "But lately my age has been catching up with me. I don't feel so young anymore. But I think maybe I've just been missing you."