Modern Romance Collection: November 2017 Books 5 - 8. Annie West
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find out what my father has done—ever.’
‘Why did he do it? Set the terms of his will like that?’
‘He obviously thought I was like him and that I would not tolerate sharing the success of the business with anyone. I suspect he thought I would find an enforced marriage more preferable.’ The bitterness in his voice was clear, but deep down she didn’t believe he was like that.
He looked at her, his eyes locking with hers for a moment, then walked out through the open doors onto a terrace that boasted a pool, covered now for the colder winter months, and, beyond that, stunning views of the countryside.
She watched as he walked across the terrace, saw the tension in his shoulders when he stood with his back to her, rigid and upright; sympathy filled her. She knew what it was like to grow up in a home where parents didn’t even know the meaning of the word marriage, let alone love. Such an upbringing had made her yearn for love and happiness, a desire that had led to one disastrous relationship and now this, a fake engagement. Would she ever find love? Did it really exist?
‘Won’t it hurt your mother more when she finds out our relationship is fake?’ She walked out onto the terrace, the chill of the afternoon making her shiver. Or was it the coldness coming from the man who’d kissed her so passionately she’d nearly gone up in flames?
‘That is a risk I am prepared to take.’ He turned to face her, the set of his jaw hard and angular. ‘I’d rather she thinks my engagement failed when we go back to our lives than learn the full extent of my father’s deceit and treachery.’
‘As you wish.’
‘It goes without saying that whatever you discover must never become common knowledge, something which you agreed to adhere to in the contract.’ He turned to face her, hard lines of worry on his brow. He still didn’t trust her, even though she was doing this to clear her name and her father’s debts.
‘You don’t trust me at all, do you?’
‘I never trust anyone, Lydia. Trust is like love—an empty word that people pretend to believe in.’
‘Do you really believe that?’ She couldn’t believe the venom of his words.
‘I do, but I have no wish to discuss it.’ He walked from the room and she knew he meant it; the discussion was over. She only hoped his mother was easier to talk to. The sooner she found out the name his brother might be using, the sooner she could walk away from Raul and his unyielding presence.
* * *
By the time they had finished the meal with his mother later that evening, Raul was beginning to think that maybe he could trust Lydia. For the entire evening she’d put on a brilliant show of being his fiancée. She’d acted to perfection the part of a woman who loved him and wanted to be with him for the rest of her life. She’d even convinced his mother that their chance meeting just a short while ago was lovers’ fate as she’d excitedly shown her the engagement ring.
‘I never thought I would see the day my son fell in love.’ His mother’s words, said in heavily accented English. Her enthusiasm for their happiness grated on his conscience and guilt nudged at him for the lies he had told her and the lies still yet to come. He’d told Lydia he’d rather his mother think their romance had ended than know the truth, but now, seeing the happiness on her face, he wasn’t so sure.
‘When is the wedding?’ his mother asked as she sipped at her wine.
‘Christmas Eve.’ Despite Lydia’s subtle scrutiny, he managed to say it calmly, but didn’t miss the question on his mother’s face.
‘Why the rush?’ For a moment she grappled with her limited English.
He took Lydia’s hand and looked into her eyes. ‘I met the woman I love. Why wait?’
Lydia held his gaze, blushing prettily and very convincingly, then smiled up at him. A warm smile that lit up her eyes, sending those sparks of lust hurtling through him once more as memories of their kiss in the rain surfaced.
‘We want to be married and, as neither of us wants a big fancy affair with lots of guests, Christmas Eve seemed perfect.’
‘Then you are not...?’ His mother’s question died away as he turned his attention to her, pulling Lydia close against him.
‘No. Goodness.’ Lydia laughed and the relief on his mother’s face shocked him. Did she suspect there was more to this engagement than love? Worse still, did she somehow know what his father had done with his will? She might have been a distant figure in his childhood, thanks to his father’s influence, but she was still his mother and that counted for something at least. He had no wish to hurt her.
‘We want to marry, as soon as possible and with the minimum of fuss.’ He spoke first in fast Spanish, to ensure his mother understood, then repeated it in English as he looked at Lydia.
‘And we’d like you to be there,’ Lydia enthused and Raul inwardly groaned as she got carried away with the role she was acting out. One more bit of deceit to extricate himself from.
‘I will be.’ His mother smiled then hugged them both in turn. He watched as Lydia hugged her back, recalling the little she’d told him of her childhood. She had painted a very cold picture. Had she missed out on a mother’s love?
‘There is one other person we’d like at the wedding,’ Lydia said softly, almost absently. Her skills for acting were very convincing. He’d have to be wary of that.
‘I think I know who that might be.’ His mother responded to Lydia but looked at him and he had the strange sensation of being out of control, completely at another person’s mercy, something he’d long ago decided never to be again. ‘His name is Maximiliano, after his father.’
To hear it confirmed—from his mother—hurt like hell. He had never been the son his father had wanted, even from the moment he’d been born. The honour of being given his father’s name had been bestowed on the son he’d truly wanted.
‘Do you know where we can find him?’ Lydia asked, not taking her attention from his mother once. Could she sense his anger, his growing dislike for a brother he’d never known, the only son his father had wanted?
She shook her head and changed the conversation immediately to something completely different, preferring to indulge in a conversation about village life, and Raul knew the opportunity had passed. He shook his head at Lydia as she looked up at him. He didn’t want his mother hounded about this. It obviously made her as angry as it made him.
He’d lost his father and she’d lost her husband. Of course she didn’t want to bring her husband’s love child into their lives now and she most certainly wouldn’t want him at her son’s wedding. No, this wasn’t the way to find out about his brother.
‘We need to go back to the villa,’ he said, smiling at his mother, trying to ignore the shocked look on Lydia’s face. He would have to find another way of tracing his brother. He was not going to have his mother’s life turned upside down just because his father had made one last dig at both of his sons, pitching them against each other.
He guided Lydia towards the door, wanting to leave before something more was said to upset his mother, and was standing beneath the archway, which in summer became covered in bougainvillea, when his mother called to Lydia, who exchanged a glance with him then went back to see her. He waited, not wanting to see the moment when his mother would be duped once more into thinking he and Lydia were in love. A few minutes later, Lydia reappeared, looking as uncomfortable as he felt. At least she had a conscience.
He wanted to ask her what had been said, but decided against it. In a few weeks the fake engagement would be over and whatever it was wouldn’t matter any more.
* * *
Lydia had clutched her small bag in her lap as Raul had navigated the twisty turns of the road back to his villa, aware that she was now holding the key to her freedom. His mother had pushed an old envelope into