Spanish Escape. Maisey Yates

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Spanish Escape - Maisey Yates


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dad’s coming to pick me up—I need Mum, soup and sympathy.’

      ‘Sounds good.’

      ‘How was it?

      ‘It was fine,’ Estelle said, really not in the mood to tell Ginny all that had happened.

      Ginny would no doubt find out from Gordon, given how much the two of them discussed. Estelle was still irritated that Ginny told Gordon about her virginity but, seeing how sick Ginny was, Estelle chose to save that for later.

      ‘Gordon was lovely.’

      ‘I told you there was nothing to worry about.’

      ‘I’m exhausted,’ Estelle admitted. ‘You didn’t tell me about Gordon’s sleep apnoea. I got the fright of my life when I walked in and he was strapped to a machine.’

      Ginny laughed. ‘I honestly forgot. Your brother’s been calling you. A few times, actually.’

      The phone rang then, and Estelle’s heart lurched in hope when she saw that it was her brother. ‘Maybe he’s got that job.’

      He hadn’t.

      ‘I found out on Friday,’ Andrew said. ‘I just couldn’t face telling you.’

      ‘Something will come up.’

      ‘I’m not qualified for anything.’

      Estelle could hear the hopelessness in his voice.

      ‘I don’t know what to do, Estelle. I’ve asked Amanda’s parents if they can help—’

      His voice broke then. Estelle knew the hell that would have paid with his pride.

      ‘They can’t.’

      She could feel his mounting despair.

      ‘Something will come up,’ Estelle said, but she was finding it harder and harder to sound convincing. ‘You’ve just got to keep applying for work.’

      ‘I know.’ He blew out a long breath in an effort to compose himself. ‘Anyway, enough about me,’ Andrew said, ‘Ginny said you were in Scotland. How come?’

      ‘I was at a wedding.’

      ‘Whose?’

      ‘I’ll tell you all about it tomorrow.’

      ‘Tomorrow?’

      ‘I want to speak to you about something.’ As a car tooted outside, Ginny stood. ‘Andrew, I’ve got to go,’ Estelle said. ‘I’ll call in tomorrow.’

      Estelle didn’t know how to tell Andrew she had some money for him, but anyway she knew that one month’s mortgage payment would only be a Band-Aid solution. She was relieved that Ginny would be out for a few days because she really wanted some time to go over what she was considering.

      The library was offering her more hours. Perhaps she could defer her studies and move in with Andrew and Amanda for a year, pay them rent, help out with little Cecelia, maybe even take Gordon up on his offer… Yes, she was glad Ginny would be away, because she needed to think properly.

      ‘Your dad’s here,’ Estelle said.

      ‘Thanks so much for last night, Estelle,’ Ginny said, grabbing her bag and heading out of the door, waving to her father, who had climbed back into the car when he saw her.

      Ginny was too dosed up on flu medication even to notice the expensive car a little further down the road.

      Raúl noticed her, though—and a frown appeared on his face as he saw Virginia, Gordon’s regular date, disappearing into a car driven by another older male. After Raúl’s father’s revelations he was past being surprised by anything, but there was a curious feeling of disappointment as he thought of Estelle and Virginia together with Gordon.

      No.

      He did not like the images that conjured, so he settled for the slightly more palatable version—that Estelle hadn’t picked him up at Dario’s; instead Estelle and Virginia must both work for the same escort agency.

      He needed someone tough, Raúl told himself. He needed a woman who could separate sex from emotion, who could see what he was about to propose as a financial opportunity rather than a romantic proposition.

      Except his knuckles were white as he clutched the steering wheel. Since last night there had been an incessant gnawing in his stomach when he thought of Estelle with Gordon. Now that gnawing had upgraded to a burn in the lining of his gut.

      Estelle would be far better with him.

      Was he arrogant to think so? Raúl pondered briefly as he walked up her garden path.

      Perhaps, he conceded, but he was also assured enough to know that he was right.

      * * *

      ‘What did you forget…?’ Estelle’s voice trailed off when she saw that it wasn’t Ginny.

      Raúl preferred the way she’d looked last night on the balcony, but her appearance now—the short skirt, the heavy make-up, the lacquered hair—actually made things easier.

      ‘What do you want?’

      ‘I wanted to apologise for what I said last night. I think it was misconstrued.’

      ‘I think you made things perfectly clear.’ She drew in a breath and then gave a small nod. ‘Apology accepted. Now, if you’ll excuse me?’

      Her hand was ready to close the door on him. There was just a moment and Raúl knew he had to use it wisely. There was no time for mixed messages. He knew he had better reveal the truth up-front.

      ‘You were right—I didn’t want you to go back to Gordon, but not just because…’ The door was closing on him so Raúl told her exactly what he was here for. ‘I wanted to ask you to marry me.’

      Estelle laughed.

      After the tension of the last twenty-four hours, then her brother’s tears on the phone, and now Raúl, standing absolutely immaculate in black jeans and a shirt at her door with his ridiculous proposal, all she could do was throw her head back and laugh.

      ‘I’m serious.’

      ‘Of course you are,’ Estelle answered. ‘Just as you were serious last night when you told me just how much you don’t want to marry—ever.’

      ‘I don’t want to marry for love,’ Raúl said, ‘but I do need a bride. One with a level head. One who knows what she wants and goes for it.’

      There was that implication again, Estelle realised. She was about to close the door, but then she looked down to the cheque Raul was holding—one with her name on it—and she saw the ridiculous amount he was offering. He surely wasn’t serious. She looked up at him and realised that possibly he was—that he could pay for her services. As Gordon had.

      Estelle gave a nervous swallow, reminding herself that whatever happened, whatever Raúl thought, she must not betray Gordon’s confidence.

      ‘Look—whatever you think, Gordon and I…’

      ‘Should that be, Gordon, Virginia and I?’ He watched her flaming cheeks pale. ‘I just saw her leave. Are you both dating him?’

      ‘I don’t have to explain anything to you.’

      ‘You’re right,’ Raúl conceded.

      ‘How did you know where I lived?’

      ‘I checked your bag when you were dancing with Gordon.’

      Estelle blinked. He was honest, brutally honest—and, yes, she couldn’t help herself. She was curious.

      ‘Are you going to ask me in or do I stand and speak here?’

      ‘I don’t think so.’ Common sense told her to close the door on him, but as she stared into black eyes curiosity was starting


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