Valdez's Bartered Bride Read online

  ‘You will be helping not only yourself and your father, but many hundreds of ordinary families who depend on their continued employment.’

  Lydia sighed. She knew when to give in gracefully. How hard could it be to pretend to be engaged to this man? All she had to do was find his brother and then this nightmare, which was getting worse by the minute, would be over.

  Raul spoke again, adding to her worries. ‘And if you fail to find my brother we will have already begun the process of organising our marriage, which will have to take place on Christmas Eve.’

  ‘You’ve got it all planned, haven’t you?’ A Christmas wedding? The thought sent panic racing through her like a torrent of flood water. She had no wish to be a married woman. She’d seen how hopeless her dreams of love and happiness were. Now Raul was reinforcing how futile those dreams were.

  ‘I am always prepared for all eventualities.’

  Why did that sound so threatening? She looked up at him, his dark eyes piercing into hers, and not a trace of anything other than seriousness was on his handsome face, nothing to soften the severity of his hard expression.

  For the briefest of moments, she considered walking out. This was her father’s mess and he could sort it. But she knew he never would and when it all went wrong Raul would be back, only then she would have nothing to bargain with. Not if he’d already found his brother. On top of that she could almost hear her grandmother, urging her to be strong, to get through this, as she’d always done when the fear of boarding school had been her only worry in life.

  It was now or not at all and she’d do it for her grandmother’s sake. Not Raul’s, not hers and most definitely not her father’s.

  ‘I don’t doubt that at all.’ She lifted her chin defiantly, pulling herself up as a new inner strength surged through her. She’d sort this and get this man out of her life. ‘But why did your father set this up?’

  ‘To force me to accept his other son or do the one thing I have always said I wouldn’t do—get married.’

  ‘Would he really do that?’

  ‘He would. So what is it to be, Lydia? Do we have a deal?’

  She wanted to ask him how he could talk of marriage in such a detached way, but instead she took his lead and walked over to the desk, picked up the pen, and with one last angry and defiant look at him she signed the paper. ‘We have a deal, Mr Valdez. I will be your fake fiancée—but only for one month.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LYDIA SAT AT her desk, her gaze fixed on the view of Madrid as the December sun set across the city, her mind wandering through the ever-increasing questions about the deal she’d struck with Raul. She twisted the large diamond engagement ring on her finger, still shocked to find it there despite having worn it for over a week.

  The first ten days of the fake engagement was over and she was closer to a marriage she didn’t want but would have to go through with, unless she came up with something to do with Maximiliano Valdez. She’d gone down so many dead ends this week and wasn’t any closer to discovering the whereabouts of Raul’s brother, or even the name he used, because she was certain it wasn’t Valdez. She sighed, momentarily feeling beaten. She had to come up with something soon. It was only a matter of time before Raul demanded to know what she’d found out.

  ‘Is your work boring you, Lydia?’ Raul’s deep and accented voice penetrated her thoughts and she swivelled round in her chair, turning her back on the view and her questions.

  He leant casually against the door frame, his arms folded and an expression of expectancy on his face. How could he look so commanding and yet so attractive at the same time?

  ‘I was thinking.’ She tried to block that mutinous train of thought. She didn’t want to think about this man like that. She mustn’t.

  ‘And are you any closer to the answer, to finding my brother?’ He seemed to loom over her, his height darkening the light and airy office and, even worse than that, her heart was thudding. Was it panic that she hadn’t yet got any real leads as to where his brother might be or because he was so close and she was excruciatingly aware of him?

  His brows flicked up in question when she didn’t respond, his eyes, so very dark, fixing her to the spot. ‘Anything?’

  ‘No.’ She didn’t want to elaborate on it, all too aware that now she had just over two weeks before he could demand that she became his wife and settle the debts her father had recklessly created. If she didn’t find his brother, she had no other way of paying even a part of what was owed. She might have her own business, but it was still in its infancy and would never be in the league of Raul’s high-earning business—or her father’s debt.

  He inhaled deeply, as if he was holding back on saying something, and strode to stand at the window, his arms folded defensively across his broad chest. She watched him as the silent seconds ticked by, drawn to the width of his shoulders and the shirt that strained over his muscled arms. Strong and safe arms.

  She blinked in shock. Where had that come from? She looked down at her desk, making a show of stacking papers tidily, anything other than look at this virile specimen of masculinity that threatened everything she thought she was.

  ‘Then I am afraid we have to put in motion our alternative option.’ The coolness of his voice sent a shock of fear through her as if she’d just dipped her toes into the cold seas around England.

  ‘What alternative option?’ Had she missed something?

  He turned to look at her, that dark and yet strangely sexy look in his eyes, and she felt the simmer of attraction build. Damn the man. Did he know what he was doing? Was he deliberately trying to disarm her?

  ‘To go ahead with the marriage.’ His voice held a note of determination despite the calm, soft tone.

  ‘But there are three more weeks yet.’ She knew she sounded panicked, but she couldn’t help it. Quickly she tried to regain her inner strength, her ability to come somewhere close to matching this man’s power.

  ‘Sí, that is true, but, as far as your father’s debt is concerned, we have to be seen to be preparing for marriage in order to make the repayment of that debt.’

  ‘By who?’ she fired back at him angrily.

  He moved to her desk, placed his palms on it and leant towards her. ‘By the board of directors, the people who have the power to insist that the contract your father signed is adhered to, that his debt is repaid by our marriage and subsequent transfer to me of those properties around the globe you claim to know nothing of.’

  He was angry; she could feel it reverberating from him and bouncing off the clean white walls of the office. She’d spoken to her solicitor, knew that her father had been advised against signing such a contract, which made it all the worse. Her father had engineered the terms just to keep himself out of trouble, placing her in the firing line. Still she couldn’t help but goad this proud and powerful man.

  ‘And you always do as you are told?’ Mischief entered her voice and, briefly, she had the upper hand.

  He leant lower to her, his face so close to hers that if anyone was looking in through the large window such a move could be mistaken for a lover’s kiss. She held her breath, refusing to back down, refusing to lose the upper hand she had inadvertently gained.

  ‘Do you really think I would marry you—or anyone—simply because I have been told to do so?’ The words were deep and accented, his breath warm on her face, his dark eyes granite hard and fixed on hers.

  No, she didn’t think that at all. In fact, it had crossed her mind more than once why such a commanding and in-control man would follow the wishes of his father’s will so succinctly.

  She leant daringly forward, closer to him and looked into the fierceness in his eyes. ‘No, I don’t, so maybe now would be a good time to tell me exactly what this is all about instead of waiting three more weeks and forcing us into a marriage neither of us want. I have no wish to spend the next two years with you.’

  He didn’t answer. His eyes searched hers, what for she didn’t know, but sh
e couldn’t help the tingle that covered her lips as if his had touched hers, brushed over them and teased them—teased her—into passionate life.

  She jolted back on her chair. ‘What is it all about, Raul?’

  A smug smile of satisfaction teased at the lips she’d just imagined kissing hers and heat spread over her cheeks. She stood up from the desk, as calmly as she could even though her insides were somersaulting wildly as she fought, once again, the pull of attraction for this proud Spaniard.

  ‘You know it all, Lydia.’

  ‘I’m going home,’ she announced sternly, but the questioning rise of his brows left her in no doubt of her mistake.

  ‘By home, you mean, my home?’ The deep sensuous accent did untold things to her already disturbed equilibrium.

  ‘I have never had the luxury of calling any one place home for long. Any place I stay becomes my home—temporarily at least.’ Why had she said that? Why had she given away a part of her like that? Angrily, she turned and picked up her jacket and purse.

  ‘Join me for a drink—on the way home.’ His accent had deepened, become more noticeable and far too sexy.

  She turned and looked at him, the challenge in his eyes unmistakable. He expected her to refuse, to run from whatever it was that had just zinged subtly between them, changing everything. Well, she’d show him he didn’t scare her, that she had the power to resist the attraction—resist him.

  She smiled at him brightly. ‘That would be the perfect end to the day.’

  * * *

  The fire in Lydia’s eyes did something to him as he looked at her and Raul suddenly had the urge to spend an evening with her. A long evening. Whatever it was that had reared up like a stallion between them as he’d looked into her eyes now called to him, daring him to accept the challenge this woman presented, daring him to take what he wanted. She was a challenge he shouldn’t accept.

  He sat opposite Lydia at a café in one of the city’s most vibrant plazas, content that here they would be noticed, their status as an engaged couple brought to the attention of Madrid’s society—and subsequently Carlos, who would inform the board, who were pushing more strongly for settlement of her father’s debt. This would buy them both time.

  He ordered wine and tapas and sat back, enjoying the buzz of early evening in Madrid, but knowing he would have to bring the conversation round to the finer details for their marriage. He’d been forced to put the marriage plan into motion because after one week it was becoming clear that maybe she wasn’t able to trace his brother. Her hobby obviously wasn’t as developed as she’d led him to believe.

  ‘I have made the official notifications for our marriage. On Christmas Eve, you and I will marry in a civil ceremony.’ She paled but before she could offer up one of her little interruptions he continued, ‘Your father’s debts will be cleared as soon as we are married, but we must remain living as a married couple for two years.’

  ‘I thought we didn’t have to go to the extreme of marriage.’ Her eyes flashed with a spark of anger as she looked at him, calmly taking a sip of her cool white wine. Her long elegant fingers and vibrant red-painted nails drew his attention. She hadn’t changed since they’d first met, just evolved into the socialite, a spoiled little heiress who had nothing better to do than pamper and indulge herself. Not at all the kind of woman he usually noticed. He liked more independent women, those who didn’t read too much into a smile. So why was she getting under his skin so easily?

  ‘Only you can decide what happens, Lydia. You need to find my brother soon. Only then can your father’s debts be cleared and the marriage cancelled. Fail or take too long and the marriage will have to go ahead.’

  ‘If I decide to do something I never fail so you shouldn’t trouble yourself with all those official and legal documents just to arrange a marriage that won’t be necessary.’

  The defiant and determined look in her eyes stirred something deep within him, something he’d kept concealed even from himself. Annoyed at the direction of his thoughts, he pushed it aside. Far better to dislike her than desire her.

  ‘The official arrangement to marry you on Christmas Eve is my insurance policy to ensure that you don’t fail.’

  ‘You are nothing but a blackmailer,’ she threw at him and looked out of the window across the plaza. Around them an increasing amount of people were filling up the tables, their laughter and talking infusing the evening with fun and vibrancy.

  ‘I think that particular title goes to your father.’ There were moments when he believed her innocence in this, believed that she knew nothing of the properties her father had bartered with. Then, when she looked at him so defiantly, so very proudly, like an heiress who had it all and knew it, he believed nothing of the sort. She certainly gave out mixed messages.

  Right now she looked vulnerable and that struck a chord within him, sent questions racing through his mind. She was gambling with far more than a few properties. Like him, she was prepared to risk her freedom, risk ending up in a marriage she didn’t want. But why? She didn’t appear to have a conscience for the father, a man who had used her in his scheming ways. What was keeping her here, keeping her from walking away?

  ‘And yours,’ she flung at him, the spark of fire obliterating that vulnerability. ‘And I don’t intend to become their victim. I will do everything I can to find your brother, Raul, everything.’

  ‘That is very honourable of you.’

  ‘Honour doesn’t come into it. Self-preservation maybe, dislike for a man such as you, very definitely.’

  ‘Ouch.’ He laughed at her, admiring the hissing wildcat barely concealed beneath those words, thinking it would be exciting to tame her. ‘Where has the little kitten gone?’

  ‘Kitten?’ She looked at him, a frown on her beautiful face.

  ‘The one who wanted nothing more than me to kiss her as we talked at your desk.’

  ‘I did not.’ The indignation was clear in her voice as she jumped to her feet; so too was the hint of colour on her cheeks. He’d known as he’d looked at her across the desk that if he’d kissed her, if he’d followed the silent requests of her lovely full lips, he would have wanted more. He’d resisted the temptation. If he’d given in so easily he would have been living up to the reputation he’d created as part of his armour, but he’d wanted to—badly.

  ‘Sit down, Lydia. It will look as if we are as far from lovers as can be if you stand there glaring at me so intently.’

  ‘Which is exactly what we are.’ The words hissed at him, but she did at least sit down again.

  ‘I intend for us to be seen as, if not lovers, at least friends. We are about to enter into the happy state of marriage.’

  ‘Hah.’ The false laugh that slipped so easily from her lips left him in no doubt that she too had little sentiment for marriage. ‘Is there such a thing?’

  ‘From that I deduce your parents’ marriage was as unhappy as that of my parents.’ Why was he talking of such things with her? He never discussed his childhood, never talked to anyone about the cold and heartless home he’d grown up in, or the constant warring of his parents as his father’s indiscretions became ever more frequent and ever more public. His mother had never forgiven the double life her husband had led for over eight years of their marriage and he intended to keep his search for the child of that double life from her for as long as possible.

  ‘It is not me who has a half-sibling to trace.’

  So the kitten’s claws were still unsheathed. Maybe he should have kissed her when he’d had the chance.

  ‘True. But would you really know? Can you really say that your father has not sired another child when you spent most of your childhood with your grandparents until you went to boarding school?’

  ‘How do you know so much about me?’ Now he had her full attention.

  ‘Did you really expect me to even consider marrying you without some background, something more than our dinner-party talk ten years ago? Your father has told me much.’


  She looked at him shrewdly, her green eyes almost dark with suspicion. ‘And what did you discover?’

  ‘That maybe you are not the spoilt little rich girl you want people to believe you are.’ Now he had her attention. Her eyes blazed a furious challenge at him and who was he to refuse?

  ‘Which means?’

  ‘Which means, Lydia, I know you have no other choice. That at least was very clear from what he told my legal representative. Even so, we have a deal, one you will honour with either marriage or success in finding my half-brother.’ He paused, letting the information sink in whilst he pushed his suspicion that there was something else, some other reason for her compliance, to the back of his mind.

  ‘For now, that means acting as if we are preparing to unite in marriage, that we at least like each other. I have no wish for the board to pick up on any reluctance from either of us. They must not question that the debt will be settled in full, however that might be.’

  ‘All this to save your business.’ She shook her head in disbelief and it grated on him that she thought his motives for demanding the marriage appear to take place were purely selfish.

  ‘And to save your father from ruin as well as safeguard our much-wanted state of being single.’

  ‘Do you really expect me to believe that?’

  ‘Sí, querida, I do.’ The words he’d just spoken weren’t lost on him. They were words he’d no intention of saying to any woman.

  * * *

  Lydia looked at Raul as he sat quietly, their little spat over. Around them the noise of the evening increased and a party atmosphere prevailed. The night was still young but she didn’t have time to think of parties and fun. She had to find his brother and the turn of conversation, however fiery, had showed just how she could do that.

  ‘I need to talk to your mother. She must know something.’ That got his attention.

  His dark eyes held hers and he looked up at her, then back out to the now busy plaza, ablaze with Christmas lights. Around them the place was full of laughter and voices, the sounds echoing up around them, making everything seem surreal. She looked at the firm set of his jaw, the fierce profile, and knew she’d touched a nerve. A very raw nerve.