except their eyes met for a brief moment and it hurt her that he was speaking the truth.
It was a job, Estelle reminded herself. A job that would soon be over. But then she thought of the life that grew inside her, the baby that must have the two most mismatched parents in the world.
Not that Raúl knew it.
He thought she loved the clubs and the parties, whereas sitting and eating with his family, as difficult as it was, was where she would rather be. This night, for Estelle, was one of the best.
‘You would love San Sebastian.’ Antonio carried on speaking to her. ‘The architecture is amazing. Raúl, you should take Estelle and explore with her. Take her to the Basilica of Santa Maria—there is so much she would love to see…’
‘Estelle would prefer to go out dancing at night. Anyway,’ Raúl quipped, ‘I haven’t been inside a church for years.’
‘You will be inside one soon,’ his father warned. ‘And you should share in your wife’s interests.’
Estelle watched thankfully as Raúl took a drink rather than delivering a smart response to his father’s marital advice.
And, as much as she’d love to explore the amazing city, she and Raúl were simply too different. And the most bizarre thing was Raúl didn’t even know that they were.
She tried to imagine a future: Raúl coming home from a night out to a crying baby, or to nannies, or having access weekends. And she tried to picture the life she would have to live in Spain if she wanted his support.
Estelle remembered the menace in his voice when he had warned that he didn’t want children and decided then that she would never tell him while this contract was between them. When she was back home in England and there was distance, when she could tell him without breaking down, or hang up on him if she was about to, then she would confess.
And there would be no apology either. Estelle surged in sudden defensiveness for her child—she wasn’t going to start its life by apologising for its existence. However Raúl dealt with the news was up to him.
‘So…’ Still Antonio was focused on Estelle. ‘You met last year?’
‘We did.’ Estelle smiled.
‘When he said he was seeing an ex, I thought it was that…’ Antonio snapped his fingers. ‘The one with the strange name. The one he really liked.’
‘Antonio.’ Angela chided, but he was too doped up on morphine for inhibition.
‘Araminta!’ Antonio said suddenly.
‘Ah, yes, Araminta.’ Estelle smiled sweetly to her husband. ‘Was that the one making a play for you at Donald’s wedding?’
‘That’s the one.’ Raúl actually looked uncomfortable.
‘You were serious for a long time,’ Antonio commented.
Estelle glanced up, saw a black smile on Luka’s face.
‘Weren’t you engaged to her?’ he asked. ‘I remember my mother saying that she thought there might soon be a wedding.’
‘Luka,’ Angela warned. ‘Raúl’s wife is here.’
‘It’s fine,’ Estelle attempted—except her cheeks were on fire. She was as jealous as if she had just found out about a bit of her husband’s past she’d neither known of nor particularly liked. ‘If I’d needed to know about all of Raúl’s past before I married him we’d barely have got to his twenties by now.’
She should have left it there, but there was a white-hot feeling tearing up her throat when she thought of how he’d so cruelly dismissed Araminta—and that was someone he’d once cared about.
It was for that reason her words were tart when she shot Raúl a look. ‘Though you failed to mention you’d ever been engaged.’
‘We were never engaged.’
‘Please!’
Antonio’s crack of laughter caught them all by surprise and he raised a glass to Estelle. ‘Finally you have met your match.’
It wasn’t a long night. Antonio soon tired, and as they headed inside Luka farewelled his father fondly. But the look he gave to Estelle and Raúl told them both he didn’t need them to see him to the door in his home.
They headed for bed. Estelle was a bit embarrassed by her earlier outburst, especially as everyone else seemed to have managed to behave well tonight.
‘I’m sorry about earlier,’ she said as she undressed and climbed into bed. ‘I shouldn’t have said anything about Araminta.’
‘You did well,’ Raúl said. ‘My father actually believes us now.’
He thought she had been acting, Estelle realised. But she hadn’t been.
It felt very different sleeping in his father’s home from sleeping in Raúl’s apartment or on his yacht. Even Raúl’s ardour was tempered, and for the first time since she had married him Estelle put on her glasses and pulled out a book. It was the same book she had been reading the day she had met him, about the mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor.
She was still on the same page.
As soon as this was over she was going to focus on her studies. It had been impossible even to attempt online learning with Raúl around.
‘Read me the dirty bits,’ Raúl said, and when she didn’t comment he took the book from her and looked at the title. ‘Well, that will keep it down.’
For his effort he got a half smile.
‘You really like all that stuff?’
‘I do.’
His hand was on her hip, stroking slowly down. ‘They should hear us arguing now,’ he teased lightly. ‘You demanding details about my past.’
‘I don’t need to know.’
‘My time in Scotland was amazing.’ Raúl spoke on regardless. ‘I shared a house with Donald and a couple of others. For the first time since my mother died I had one bedroom, one home, a group of friends. We had wild times but it was all good. Then I met Araminta, we started going out, and I guess it was as close to love as I have ever come. But, no, we were never engaged.’
‘I really don’t need to hear about it.’ She turned to him angrily. ‘Do you remember the way you spoke to her?’ She struggled to keep her voice down. ‘The way you treated her?’ She looked at his black eyes, imagined running into him a few years from now and being flicked away like an annoying fly. She wasn’t hurting for Araminta, Estelle realised. She was hurting for herself—for a time in her future without him.
‘So, should I have slept with her as she requested?’
‘No!’
‘Should I have danced with her when she asked?’
Estelle hated that he was right.
‘Anyway, we were never engaged. Her father looked down on me because I didn’t come with some inherited title, so I ended things.’
‘You dumped her for that?’
‘She was lucky I gave a reason,’ Raúl said.
Estelle let out a tense breath—he could be so arrogant and cold at times.
‘Normally I don’t.’
She returned to her book, tried to pick up where she had left off. Just as she would try to pick up her life in a few weeks’ time. Except now everything had changed.
‘Put down the book,’ Raúl said.
‘I’m