Mills & Boon Stars Collection: Passionate Bargains: The Perfect Cazorla Wife / The Russian's Ultimatum / Once a Moretti Wife. Michelle Smart
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‘I never realised when we married what a liar you are.’ The tip of his nose nestled into her hair. ‘If I hadn’t been so blinded by lust I would have known your words of love and your promise of a child were nothing but lies to access my fortune.’
His tone was playful but when Charley spun round to face him she saw the darkness in his eyes.
‘I didn’t lie to you and I didn’t marry you for your money.’ She hated that he thought of her as a gold-digger, making out that the times when they’d been happy together—and there had been times when she’d been delirious with happiness—were nothing but a lie.
‘Then what did you marry me for? My wit and personality?’ he taunted in that same playful way, as the darkness in his eyes turned cold.
‘You.’ She felt heat creep up her neck. ‘I married you for you. I thought you were wonderful.’
He feigned injury. ‘You don’t think I’m wonderful any more?’
‘I think you’re cruel. You’re using those poor children as pawns to get me back into your bed and all because of some ridiculous notion of revenge because I wouldn’t have your baby.’
Where her words came from she didn’t know and she would gladly have swallowed them back if she could, but they spurted out as if they had a force of their own.
His eyes had gone cold enough to make her shiver. But the smile hadn’t dropped. He leaned forward and brushed his cheek to hers. ‘It’s not revenge, cariño. I’m giving you what you want. In return you’re giving me what I want.’
‘My body.’
‘Exactly that.’ He nuzzled against her cheek. ‘But if it was revenge I sought, then having you back in my bed would be the sweetest-tasting revenge there is.’
* * *
‘I think you’re cruel.’
That was what Charley had said.
Was he being cruel?
Raul didn’t like to think of himself as cruel. His own father, when he’d been in good health, had had a great capacity for cruelty and it was a trait Raul had sworn he would never adopt. He was prepared to accept that he was forceful and direct, arrogant even, but never cruel. Not until the woman he’d lavished everything on thought she could come to him for help as if nothing had passed between them.
He forced his mind back to their marriage. He’d been happy to indulge her when she’d announced she wanted to run a luxury chauffeur hire for travelling business people. He’d had his doubts from the off—for a start, Charley couldn’t drive, but, as she’d pointed out, she would employ drivers. Despite his misgivings, he’d given her the money to buy a handful of limousines and premises from which to run the business. With his extensive contacts book at her disposal, he’d seen no reason why her fledgling business should be anything other than a success.
A year later, the company had folded. Contracts had dried up and instead of coming to him for help she had thrown in the towel.
He’d tried to be understanding. It was a big thing she’d undertaken, starting a business of her own, especially coming into it with no qualifications or business experience.
The next venture she’d embarked on, he’d supplied her with both his financial backing and a team of his personal staff to help her with it all. It had gone bust within four months. The third—which he couldn’t even remember—had lasted only a month longer.
It was after that third and final venture that he’d sat her down and insisted it was time for her to stop playing at business and time for them to start the family she’d promised him.
His stomach soured as he recalled her reaction. It was as if he’d thrown a pot of boiling water over her.
He took a breath and pushed her bedroom door open.
She was in the adjoining room, sitting at the large desk below the window, papers spread out before her.
‘We need to leave in an hour.’ He’d informed her over breakfast that morning that they would be dining out with friends that evening.
She didn’t look at him. ‘I’ll be ready.’
‘Charlotte, it takes you at least two hours to get ready for a night out.’ And that was if he was lucky. She had a tendency to try on her entire wardrobe before deciding on an outfit, then she would tease her hair into a dozen different styles before deciding which was the ‘right’ one. It didn’t matter how many times he told her, she never seemed to believe him when he said she was beautiful in whatever she wore.
A sudden memory brushed through him, of their honeymoon, where he’d flown her to a private island in the Caribbean. It had been the last time he’d truly seen her full of spirit and abandon. One night, when he’d been gently chivvying her to get ready for dinner, she’d stripped her clothes off with glee and charged off to the private cove the island’s staff were banned from, splashing naked in the water with such joy it had compelled him to strip off his own clothes and join her, and make love to her.
His chest filled as he recalled how special that moment had been, the freedom he’d felt with the sun bathing down on his naked form and his wife’s supple limbs wrapped around him.
Of all the good moments within their marriage, this was the memory that stood out for him, the vivid remembrance of the belief that they were the happiest, most perfect couple in the world.
‘I’ll be ready,’ she repeated.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Going over the plans for the development.’
‘What for? I told you, I’ll be using my own team.’
Her shoulders raised stubbornly. ‘I’ve put hundreds of hours into this. It’s stupid not to at least take it into account.’
‘I’m sure my architect will be delighted to have your input,’ he drawled.
Shoving her chair back, she got to her feet. ‘I’m going to take a shower,’ she said, her voice tight.
‘One hour.’
‘So you keep telling me.’ She closed the adjoining door firmly behind her. He heard the lock slide into place.
Raul flexed his fingers and took a deep breath.
The past four days had been like living with a sullen teenager. He’d given her a little leeway, which had been decent of him under the circumstances, but from now on he would not put up with it.
Tomorrow, the deeds would be signed and she would be indebted to him.
Curiosity made him look at the papers sprawled over her desk.
A few moments later he sat on the chair still warm from her body heat with a frown on his face.
Peering more closely through the stack before him, he saw she’d taken each room of the new building and committed to paper her ideas for the renovations. Each drawing was done to scale.
Charley had said she’d done these plans.
Had she been lying in an attempt to impress him?
But no—the notes in the margins, the numbers indicating the measurements, these were all in her girlish writing.
He rubbed at his temples, his chest tightening as he imagined her sitting in that tiny study in the tiny home she’d been living in, working diligently on these plans. Alone.
* * *
After a quick shower and shave, Raul found Charley in the living room.
‘You’re ready?’ he asked, astonished to find her waiting for him. He was equally astounded at what she was wearing: a pair of