Australia: Sinful Secrets: Public Marriage, Private Secrets / Every Girl's Secret Fantasy / The Heart Surgeon's Secret Child

Her accidental pregnancy had delighted him, precipitating the wedding. But the unforeseen miscarriage had been followed soon after by Sierra’s damnably false innuendos…and Gianna had slipped to a place where he’d been unable to reach her.

‘Sleep,’ he bade her gently, and he watched her lashes drift down.

‘You should leave.’

He pressed a light kiss to her temple and nestled her close in against him. ‘Later.’

Except it was she who stirred in the early pre-dawn hours to the light trail of his mouth as he nuzzled the hollow at the base of her throat. She who uttered little protest as he made love to her again…a slow, gentle loving that was all her pleasure, after which he scooped her into his arms and carried her into the en suite bathroom, where he shared her shower, teasing her with the soap before gifting it to her to return the favour.

Which she did, so caught up in the thrall of him and what they’d shared that she refused to think.

This…this was heaven. The beautiful aftermath of good sex. Very good sex. Intimacy at its most rapturous, when the heart was gloriously alive…and free from intrusive thought.

If only it could remain like this, Gianna pondered a trifle wistfully. To be able to go back to the place before it all went wrong…to view it from a different mind-set and avoid the pain and bitterness.

A hollow laugh rose and died in her throat.

So much for not thinking.

‘Don’t,’ Raúl chided gently.

She didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘It’s impossible not to.’

He caught hold of her chin and tilted it so she had no recourse but to meet the darkness in his eyes. ‘There has never been anyone since you. No one.’

No one? Not even…

Dared she believe him …trust him? At the time of their marriage she would have given an unequivocal yes.

Now, even discounting Sierra’s damning words to the contrary, it seemed almost impossible to comprehend a man with Raúl’s sexual energy could remain celibate for such a long period of time.

There were so many layers to remove to reach the kernel of truth, she perceived.

Sex…even very good sex…did little more than temporarily paper over the cracks.

Which brought forth the question…had she been wrong three years ago? So distressed and emotionally traumatised that she’d chosen to believe Sierra’s accounting instead of trusting Raúl?

It was something she’d agonised over countless times, only to reach the same conclusion…logic in favour of an unlikely truth.

Did she possess the nous, the courage, to confront Sierra and shoot down each and every purported fact…and verify it as fallacy?

She had the rest of her life in front of her…a successful business, a pleasant apartment, a good lifestyle.

All of which she’d trade in a heartbeat…

Oh, God.

She closed her eyes, counted to ten, then slowly opened them again.

Don’t let intimacy cloud an important issue, she cautioned herself silently as Raúl released her and closed the water dial.

With ease he caught up a towel and hitched it at his waist, then he filched another and gently blotted the moisture from her body.

Towelled dry, he drew her into the bedroom, straightened the covers, then slid beneath them and gathered her in.

The remembered closeness of being held like this…the soft drift of his fingers as they trailed her spine…the way one hand cupped her head and the slide of his lips to her forehead…it was like coming home to a place where her body instinctively knew it belonged.

CHAPTER NINE

GIANNA drifted awake, reluctant to leave what she perceived to be an exquisite dream, only to fail as she became slowly aware of her sprawled position in the bed when she usually woke curled on her side.

She yawned, stretched a little…and felt the sexual pull deep within. For a brief moment she stilled, then groaned.

Raúl.

Ohmigod, they hadn’t…

She lifted her head and saw the empty space he’d occupied, became aware the scent of his cologne still lingered and weathered the memory, in detail, of what had transpired through the night.

Hell.

The time? She picked up her watch and did a double-take to see it was almost nine.

She never slept in—well, let’s qualify that. She hadn’t had reason to sleep late for a long while.

Time to rise and shine, shower, dress and greet whatever the day might hold, she decided as she gathered up fresh clothes and headed for the en suite bathroom.

Twenty minutes later she entered the dining room to find Raúl and Teresa enjoying breakfast.

‘Good morning.’

Gianna met Teresa’s warm smile with one of her own, and returned the greeting while studiously avoiding Raúl’s thoughtful gaze.

‘Do help yourself and join us.’

The chiffonier held juice, cereal, yoghurt, fresh fruit, coffee, and she made her selection, then crossed to take a seat at the table.

It was impossible not to be supremely conscious of Raúl’s close proximity. Nor to dismiss the vivid memory of his recent possession. After a long absence from sexual activity she could still feel his imprint deep within…a constant vivid reminder in her mind.

Could anyone tell?

Hell, she hoped not—especially Teresa, who would undoubtedly read more into it than Gianna was prepared to admit, even to herself.

And Raúl? Was it her imagination, or did she glimpse an indolent gleam in his dark gaze as he focused it on her for a few overlong seconds before returning his attention to the food on his plate?

‘I feel quite well this morning,’ Teresa announced with a pleased smile. ‘Sufficiently so to accept a dear friend’s invitation to lunch. Miguel will drive me.’ She turned towards Gianna. ‘It would be lovely to have you join me.’

Her response was immediate. ‘It’ll be a pleasure.’

‘Adriana is delightful,’ Teresa continued. ‘A true friend of long standing. You have met her, of course.’

So she had, at various fundraising functions in Madrid before and after her marriage to Raúl. An exotic beauty, who had chosen to age gracefully, and whose generosity to select charities was legend. Disadvantaged and terminally ill children won Adriana’s unstinting time and support, Gianna recalled.

Raúl finished the last of his coffee, placed the cup onto its saucer before leaning back in his chair and engaging Teresa’s attention.

‘There is something you should hear before it becomes public knowledge,’ he began quietly, and Gianna’s eyes widened in consternation.

He wasn’t…surely? Yet on some level she realised Teresa would learn the news soon enough, and better for it to come from Raúl than for his mother to hear it secondhand.

‘Last night, it was assumed our attendance together indicated a reconciliation, and an announcement was made to that effect.’

Teresa’s eyes, which had initially brightened, assumed a thoughtful expression. ‘Which is not true?’

Raúl took hold of Gianna’s hand and threaded his fingers through her own, felt their slight pull, and tightened his grip a little. ‘It’s what I hoped we could work towards, given sufficient time.’

Teresa turned towards Gianna. ‘How do you feel about this?’

Oh, my. Blatant honesty wasn’t an option. Consequently she aimed for ambiguity. ‘There are some unresolved issues.’

‘I love you both dearly,’ Teresa offered with genuine affection. ‘Nothing would please me more than to see you reunited.’

‘Gracias, Madre. If you’ll excuse me?’ Raúl rose to his feet and brushed his lips to Teresa’s temple. ‘I’ll be in the office.’

Gianna offered a slight smile, only to have her eyes widen as he crossed to her side and rested his hand briefly on her shoulder. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’

It was such a light gesture, and one that could be interpreted merely as a kind courtesy. So why did it feel as if pink coloured her cheeks in damnably sensitive reaction?

‘Thank you,’ she managed with ease, and wondered if she was the only one to glimpse the momentary amusement apparent in his dark eyes before he turned and walked from the room.

‘There are a few items of jewellery I very much want you to have,’ Teresa began gently. ‘They were to be bequeathed to you in my will, but now that you are here I can gift them to you personally.’

Distress clouded Gianna’s eyes, and she placed a hand on Teresa’s arm. ‘Please,’ she protested, ‘I can’t accept anything.’

‘Nonsense. It would mean so much to me, knowing you have them.’ She withdrew a slim jeweller’s case and set it on the table. ‘Open it, my dear.’

‘Teresa…’

‘They’re yours,’ she said simply. ‘Allow me the pleasure of gifting them to you.’

Gianna’s fingers trembled a little as she released the clasp, and her eyes widened at the sight of a beautiful diamond bracelet in an antique setting.

‘The bracelet was handed to my mother by her mother, and my great-grandmother before her. A gift, I believe, to her by a member of the Spanish aristocracy.’

‘I can’t possibly…’

‘Yes, you can. There are matching ear-studs, and a dress ring.’

Collectively, they had to be worth a small fortune, and Gianna’s features creased with concern.

‘You have Cristina…’

‘Cristina will receive her share. But these,’ she declared as she retrieved the bracelet, ‘are special, and they are for you.’

‘Raúl…’

‘The gift has his approval.’

There was little she could say except, ‘Thank you. I shall treasure them.’

‘I know. The very reason I chose them to gift to you.’

Gianna rose to her feet and bestowed a gentle kiss to Teresa’s cheek, then enfolded her in a careful hug. ‘Thank you.’ Any minute soon she’d lapse into tears.

Perhaps Teresa sensed emotions so close to the surface, for she smiled and stood to her feet.

‘Let’s take a walk through the grounds. It’s a lovely day, and the gardens are so pretty at this time of year.’

True, Gianna acknowledged as they took the lift down to ground level and stepped out into the sunshine.

Beautifully groomed lawns, a paved walkway, attractive stone fountains, and carefully tended garden borders featuring carnations, chrysanthemums, gerbera daisies, lilies and lovely asters.

It was pleasantly warm, the skies a clear blue, and there was a relaxing timeliness in listening to Teresa explain the history of the island.

‘I adore being here. It’s so peaceful away from the tourist area. A fresh breeze drifts in from the ocean, and there are luxury amenities to be had within easy distance. I have a few friends here, and the pace of life is less frenetic than in Madrid.’ She cast Gianna a smile. ‘There was a time when I enjoyed a busy social existence. The parties, the theatre, various charities to whom the Velez-Saldaña conglomerate chooses to lend its support. The luncheons, dinners the fundraising committees.’ She paused to point out a fabulous display of roses. ‘Beautiful, aren’t they?’

Indeed they were…deep reds, brilliant yellows and luscious pinks.

‘Now I prefer a quiet life, sharing as much time as possible with my son, a few special friends…’ Teresa paused and offered a genuine smile. ‘And you,’ she added gently.

Gianna found it impossible to still the sudden lump that rose in her throat.

A short time, Raúl had imparted. A few months, at most.

The medics had to be wrong. To believe this wonderful gracious lady’s diminishing health would take her from this earth before her rightful time seemed a tragedy.

‘I admire you,’ Gianna opined gently.

Teresa didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘Someone said it before me…first you cry. My dear, I did that in the beginning.’ Her dark eyes sparkled with humour. ‘It served no purpose. Instead I chose to make each day count.’ A light laugh escaped her lips. ‘And I do, believe me.’

Gianna paused and gave Teresa an impulsive hug, then stood at arm’s length. ‘I want you to know how much I care for you.’ She blinked against the threat of tears…and won. ‘You’ve always been there for me. Even in the not-so-good times. Thank you,’ she said simply.

Teresa was silent for several long seconds. ‘You are as much my daughter as if you were born to me,’ she declared gently.

Oh, dear heaven… Unshed tears shimmered in her eyes, and this time she lost as they welled and spilled over to run in slow rivulets down each cheek.

Emotional overload.

A night with Raúl in her bed, very little sleep, her mind and heart in a state of turmoil, together with Teresa’s avowal of affection it was almost too much.

‘Am I to assume the reconciliation announcement was pre-empted by circumstance?’ Teresa posed quietly.

There was no question in evading the truth. ‘Sierra was a guest last night.’

‘Ah.’ Teresa expelled a breath and linked Gianna’s arm through her own. ‘Sierra is a dangerous young woman.’

‘There was an…incident,’ Gianna revealed, reluctant to relay the hateful words Sierra had uttered.

‘Raúl chose to defend you?’

You could say that. ‘Yes.’ The terrace came vividly to mind—how it had felt to be drawn into his arms…the kiss…dear heaven, magic. As if the past three years no longer existed. For at that moment the slate had been wiped clean. There was only passion…and the need to fulfil it.

Did Teresa guess there had been an aftermath?

How could she not?

‘Your happiness must be paramount,’ Teresa said gently. ‘There are occasions in one’s life when love is tested. Believe me when I say I will support whatever decision you choose to make.’

‘Thank you.’ Any minute soon she’d resort to tears again, and that would never do.

Almost as if Teresa sensed her emotional turmoil, she impulsively caught hold of her hand. ‘Come, we will examine Miguel’s garden. He is so proud that everything is organic.’ She gave a light laugh. ‘Elena is only allowed to pick the vegetables and salad greens he permits, and then it must be beneath his eagle eye.’

They were so caught up in the moment they were unaware that Raúl had risen from behind the desk and was unobtrusively observing the scene from the office window.

Two women, a generation apart.

His mother, of average height and slim, her shoulders held straight, the wig she wore so much like her own hair there was no detectable difference.

Gianna, his wife, in direct contrast, with her petite stature, slender curves and blond hair.

Together they shared a common unbreakable bond. Linked irrespective of their connection to him.

Soon…far too soon…he would lose one of them. As heartbreaking as that would be, he had no intention of allowing Gianna to slip through his fingers.

Last night…even the thought of what they’d shared through the dark hours was enough to incite arousal. Need, he accorded wryly. Rampant primitive passion for one woman…the only woman with whom he connected on every level. Mind, body, spirit. An essential part of him. As much as the air he breathed…his life force.

Did Teresa know?

How could she not? For it was she, more than anyone else, who had witnessed his drive to expand the power he wielded in the global market during the past few years. And he’d succeeded, even surpassing his own unrealistic goals as he’d poured all his energies into winning huge contracts, exacting takeovers, restructuring in a way that had trebled the Velez-Saldaña holdings.

Yet in a way his hands were tied…loosely, he conceded. In the business arena he could afford to be ruthless…put an unnegotiable deal on the table and walk away if it wasn’t accepted.

A wry smile curved his lips. This…Gianna…was personal, requiring a vastly different strategy. One he couldn’t afford to misdirect if he wanted her to share the rest of his life.

He watched as the two women linked arms and continued along the path. He paused contemplatively until they moved out of sight, then resumed his position behind the desk, pulled up data on screen and resumed essential work.

Choosing what to wear to lunch required thoughtful consideration, Gianna posed as she checked the selection of clothes she’d brought with her.

Teresa possessed impeccable taste in everything, and her wardrobe consisted of exquisite wear designed for every possible occasion.

Dress-up time, Gianna decided as she donned a beautifully tailored dress in deep aqua, added matching stilettos, then tended to her make-up, fixed her hair in a smooth twist and attached a slender gold chain and gold studs to each ear. A spritz of her favourite perfume, and she was good to go.

Miguel delivered them to a beautiful mansion in Portals Vells, set in landscaped gardens with spectacular views of the sea.

Adriana Ramirez de Arroyo greeted Teresa with fond affection and turned towards Gianna.

‘My dear, how lovely to see you. Do come and join the other guests in the sala.’

The room encompassed nine guests…women whose wealth and social status rivalled that of their hostess. Three of them Gianna recalled having met at one charity function or another in Madrid.

Introductions completed, Gianna accepted a light orange fruit spritzer in an exquisite crystal goblet, took a sip, and found it to be delicious.

Genuine friends, mostly similar in age, with a long history together, Gianna realised as they chatted and laughed prior to moving into a beautiful formal dining room and being seated for lunch. Pleasant, charming women, content in their own skin, with no apparent need for pretence of any kind.

No fewer than five courses were served by staff, each dish a visual and epicurean feast. Light instrumental music provided an unobtrusive accompaniment, and it proved delightful to witness Teresa’s pleasure.

‘Teresa adores you,’ Adriana imparted gently as they lingered over coffee. ‘It is good you are here to spend time with her.’

‘She’s a very special lady.’ The words came straight from Gianna’s heart.

‘We’ve known each other for many years,’ Adriana relayed. ‘Shared time together, watched our respective children grow, succeed and marry.’ A soft smile curved her lips. ‘Teresa will be overjoyed with news of your reconciliation with Raúl. She loves you.’

What else could she say except, ‘Thank you…’

‘It has been Teresa who has accompanied Raúl to various functions in your absence.’

Gianna hid her surprise quite well…or so she thought.

‘My dear, you were unaware of this?’ Adriana paused a little. ‘Then possibly you do not know Raúl has chosen to represent Velez-Saldaña alone on the occasions when Teresa’s failing health has prevented her attendance.’

Teresa hadn’t mentioned it in any of her letters. But then Raúl’s mother possessed sufficient wisdom to accept her son was eminently capable of managing his personal life.

Did time heal? Was it possible to find a resolution?

Perhaps…

Oh, for heaven’s sake…what was she thinking?

She’d moved on. Made a new life for herself. Dammit, she enjoyed what she’d achieved. What was more, she hadn’t touched a cent of the money Raúl authorised each month into her bank account. Hadn’t she notified him via his bank to cease payment? Not that he’d taken any notice.

Yet…last night…

Don’t go there. It was just sex…albeit very good sex. That it had reawakened her emotions and attacked the very core of her soul was immaterial, for it didn’t change his infidelity.

Except for the tiny core of doubt seeding in her mind.

‘Shall we adjourn to the sala?’

A concerned glance was all it took to discern Teresa was beginning to tire. Gianna discreetly checked her watch. It was three-forty-five, and Miguel had instructions to collect them at four-thirty.

The car arrived promptly, and hugs were exchanged as Adriana accompanied them to the porte-cochère, where Miguel ensured Teresa became comfortably seated while Gianna crossed to the other side and slid into the adjoining seat.

It had been a pleasant afternoon, and Gianna said as much as the car traversed the driveway.

Teresa reached out and took Gianna’s hand in hers. ‘Lovely,’ she agreed. ‘Thank you for accompanying me.’

‘The pleasure was all mine,’ she responded quietly.

They shared a comfortable silence during the drive to Teresa’s villa, and once indoors Teresa acknowledged her nurse and the need to rest.

Gianna gave her an impulsive hug, then watched as Teresa ascended the stairs to the gallery and moved towards her own suite of rooms in the west wing.

The hours stretched ahead…hours in which she could access e-mails, check the online data Annaliese would have posted. Reading presented another option, but she felt a need to expend some restless energy, and the thought of stroking lengths in the pool held definite appeal.

It didn’t take long to change, don a bikini, collect a towel and make her way to the smoke-tinted glass-roofed pool.

Grateful for the solitude, she dived into the cool water and struck out, frequently changing style as she powered length after length before switching to a more leisurely pace.

‘Are you done?’

Gianna stilled at the sound of that familiar drawl, and turned to see Raúl standing with relaxed ease on the wide expanse of marble tiles surrounding the pool.

How long had he been there? She hadn’t heard a sound, nor had she noticed his presence.

‘What if I say no?’

‘I’ll take that as an invitation to join you.’

She cast his tall frame attired in black trousers and white shirt a sweeping glance. ‘You’re not suitably dressed.’ Undressed, she added silently, and glimpsed his faint smile.

‘I don’t recall it being a problem in the past.’

No, it hadn’t been. ‘This is Teresa’s home,’ she managed with a degree of reproval, and felt her eyes widen as he unbuttoned his shirt, discarded it, then he released the zip fastening on his trousers, slipped off his shoes, socks, and disposed of all three.

Black silk briefs separated him from total nudity, although the effect of his barely covered frame caused her pulse-rate to quicken to an alarming beat as he surfaced in the pool mere inches from where she trod water.

Dark and dangerous, was her initial reaction, and her lips involuntarily parted as he cupped her face and smoothed a thumb over one cheek.

‘How was lunch?’

‘Fine.’

One eyebrow lifted in silent query, and she held his gaze with equanimity.

‘Adriana is a wonderful hostess,’ she relayed with deliberate patience. ‘The guests proved to be delightful company. Superb food.’

‘Teresa?’

She sobered a little. ‘Teresa appeared to enjoy herself immensely,’ she opined quietly. ‘Although she tired as the afternoon progressed.’

‘Hence her decision to have a light meal on a tray in her suite.’

‘You think the afternoon may have been too much for her?’

He didn’t respond immediately. ‘I think she deserves to choose how and with whom she spends what time she has left.’

‘I’m so sorry.’ Such simple words, meant to convey so much, and his eyes darkened as a slight shiver shook her slender frame.

‘Cold?’

It was more than that. A chill she couldn’t explain. For it was enmeshed in a host of emotions she felt unable to voice. Paramount was the need to seek solitude…for to remain here, close to him, was more than she could bear.

‘I need to go change,’ she managed lightly, grateful when he released her, and she swam to the side of the pool where she lifted herself in one easy movement onto the marble tiles.

It took bare minutes to towel the moisture from her body and fix the towel sarong-style round her slender form, then she picked up a second towel and wound it turban-fashion over her hair.