His Suitable Bride: Rafael's Suitable Bride / The Spaniard's Marriage Bargain / Cordero's Forced Bride. Kate Walker
be royally taken advantage of with an attitude like that,’ he told her darkly, and he felt her briefly touch his arm.
‘You’re far too cynical, Rafael. Why would Martin take advantage of me? I’m volunteering to do this! It’s hardly as though he’s going to rope me in to do all manner of school activities. He knows I’ve got a full-time job with the flower shop.’
‘You can never tell. You’re far too trusting.’
‘Well, that’s not such a bad thing, is it?’
Rafael laughed dryly. ‘I wouldn’t know. It’s not a trait I’m familiar with. In the cut-throat world of business, having a trusting nature is like loading a gun and pointing the barrel at your head.’
Cristina shuddered. ‘Which is why I will never get involved in that world.’
‘No. I can’t say I can see you there.’ Rafael, imagining her sitting in a board room discussing mergers and acquisitions, couldn’t resist a smile. It felt surprisingly good to be walking along the busy London streets with his shoes muddy, his suit fit for the bin and his trench coat whipping around him. ‘There’s no point my going back to the office,’ he told her suddenly. ‘I’ll take you out to dinner.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘I realise that.’ He stuck out his hand and magically a taxi appeared. He pulled open the door, gave the cab driver her address and turned to her. ‘Well?’
‘Yes!’ Cristina said breathlessly.
This wasn’t any kind of date. She knew that. Rafael was not the sort of man to be attracted to her. But still … it felt like a date and she showered quickly and dressed accordingly, making it casual, but as sexy as she could given the restrictions of her figure. Instead of her usual oversized jumper, she wore a tightly fitted knitted long-sleeved top in a pale apricot colour. The jeans remained the same but with boots, and she finger-brushed her hair and left it loose.
It took her less than forty-five minutes from start to finish and her eyes were bright when she rejoined him in the kitchen, where he had helped himself to some water while he waited.
She looked good.
Rafael gazed at her in astonishment because the figure only briefly glimpsed before now revealed itself as curvaceous and ultra-feminine. A tantalising strip of cleavage pouted provocatively at him from between the folds of her coat.
Sweet natured, naive and from the right background. She would never demand anything, and would never see him as a bank balance in need of depleting. If there was one thing he had established beyond a shadow of a doubt, it was that she was uninterested in money. She had plenty at her disposal, thanks to her parents, and yet no one would ever have guessed it. He continued to look at her speculatively until she began to squirm under his scrutiny.
‘What?’ she laughed nervously. ‘Have I got something on my face?’
‘You look good.’ This was the first time Rafael had ever contemplated approaching a relationship with longevity in mind. At least, the first time since his disastrous marriage all those years ago. Then, he had made a terrible mistake. It had been a vital learning curve, and Rafael had no intention of repeating his error. He had never allowed his mother to dictate his love life, but this time he was prepared to allow that time was marching on. The vision of a lonely old man had spread before him in all its dubious glory and he hadn’t cared for it.
This woman fitted the bill of a suitable wife. The icing on the cake was that the union would be given full approval by his mother, who had uniformly disliked every single woman he had ever brought to see her, and that, he had always known, included his ex-wife.
‘Thank you.’ Cristina went bright red and reminded herself that this was not a date. Like he had said, neither of them could have really returned to work, and he’d probably had nothing better planned for the evening.
‘Now to my place so that I can shower, and then we could head off. What kind of food do you like?’
‘All kinds!’ She chattered happily as they jumped into another taxi for the twenty-minute trip to his apartment. She confessed to having a sweet tooth, filled him in on the numerous diets she had sampled over the years, talked about what she wanted to do to her football side, and then anxiously asked him whether he thought it was a good idea or not.
She was simple and uncomplicated and he knew, instinctively, that she would not put him in the pressurised situation of having to dismiss her because she had overstepped her brief.
‘Did you mean what you said about coming back for another go at the football?’ she asked suddenly. ‘You told me that the next time you would be better prepared.’
Rafael had enjoyed the game. He had not really played, just stood on the sidelines giving her a hand, but now he thought that maybe he would make the time. He had played both rugby and football all the way through school and university and had excelled at both. However, along with most other leisure activities, he had promptly dropped both the minute his working life had taken over. Now, perhaps, he would redress the balance.
He nodded slowly and looked across at her expectant face. ‘Why not? I can arrange to come along at least now and again, especially if your so-called buddy is going to do another runner.’
It felt good to be accommodating, and he knew that his efforts would be worth it. He would court her the good old-fashioned way. Marriage as a business proposition would not be her style, and he wouldn’t blame her. But it certainly would work for him. Love was a complication, and after years of unforeseen complications in his dealings with women he was ready to concede that what he needed was a marriage of convenience.
‘Really?’
‘You sound shocked.’ He gave her a half smile that made her pulses race.
‘I am,’ Cristina told him truthfully. ‘I got the impression that you didn’t make time in your life for very many leisure activities, least of all football with a bunch of high-school kids.’
‘I’ll have you know that I was a pretty impressive player in my time.’
‘What happened?’
‘Work happened.’
‘Well, it’s never too late to loosen those chains,’ Cristina said gently.
‘Chains?’
‘The ones that are keeping you tied to your desk.’
They had reached their destination. Was it her imagination or were they beginning, against all odds, to bond? She could scarcely believe it. He was utterly out of her league, at least in terms of physical attraction and social savoir faire. She, like him, came from a privileged background, but there the similarity ended. And yet she could feel something tentative between them. It was scary and exhilarating at the same time, and it made her head spin, as if she was twelve again and on one of those terrifying rollercoaster rides she had gone on with her friends.
Having no experience on which to fall back, Cristina contented herself with some pleasurable fantasies in which Rafael played the starring role.
When he emerged, dressed, they had already had two children and a couple of dogs.
She flushed guiltily, relieved that he couldn’t read her mind.
They went to a Thai restaurant, and it was only when they were nearly through a bottle of wine that Rafael asked her casually how it was that she had never had a boyfriend.
‘Of course Fve had boyfriends!’ Cristina told him hotly. ‘I just never met anyone I wanted to settle down with.’
‘And that would be because …?’
‘I must be fussy,’ she responded airily, pleasantly heady after the wine.
‘Oh, yes?’ Rafael leaned forward. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes bright. She wasn’t flirting with him, but there was something undeniably sexy