‘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 her hands and the words she’d spoken in heavily accented English still collided with Lydia’s conscience. She should have put the woman at ease and spoken Spanish, but she was still uneasy about doing so after Raul’s put-down and she wasn’t yet ready to prove to him she was anything other than an empty-headed party girl.

She stood now, looking out over the dark countryside, wondering what exactly was in the envelope and why his mother had kept it from him all along. She’d have to wait until she was alone. The last thing she wanted to do was unleash the secret until she knew what it was and if it would help her find Raul’s brother. She had to know if it really did reveal enough to enable her to walk away from Raul, her father’s debts cleared. She could still hear his mother’s words as she’d thrust the envelope into her hands, struggling to put what she wanted to say into English. Her eyes, as dark as her son’s but much softer, had implored Lydia to listen, to hear what she had to say. It was the kind of look that crossed any language barrier.

‘I have guarded this secret from my son since the day he was born and now, as the woman he loves, it is your secret to guard—or share.’

‘What wise words did my mother give you?’ Raul’s voice made her jump as he came up behind her. His nearness set off the thudding in her heart and she tried to tell herself it was because of the secret she now held and definitely not because of the man.

‘You startled me,’ she said as she whirled round to face him, finding herself just that little bit too close. He looked down at her, questions and suspicion brimming in his eyes.

Today she’d seen a very different man from the hard businessman she’d first met in London and her thoughts towards him were changing. Just like her, he had every reason to portray a tough exterior to the world. But knowing this made her vulnerable to him and, worse, made it dangerous being close to a man she was undeniably attracted to. Apart from that kiss last night, she’d kept her distance and her sanity, but now, holding the key to his past and to her freedom, her resistance had slipped a little lower.

‘Did she tell you anything more about my brother?’ His words were soft and coaxing but fierceness in his eyes betrayed his emotions more clearly than she was certain he would have wanted.

‘No, she didn’t tell me anything about your brother.’ Lydia embellished the truth, not liking having to lie, but until she knew what was in that envelope she couldn’t tell him. Partly to protect him but more out of respect for whatever it was that his mother had concealed. She must have had a good reason for doing it, but as soon as Lydia knew she would tell him and then hopefully free herself of this ridiculous contract.

‘She must have said something.’ His dark eyes narrowed in suspicion and she glanced at her bag as it lay on the table behind him, holding the information about his brother that they both needed to know. For her it was freedom and for him it was nothing but gaining yet more wealth.

‘She believes we are in love, Raul,’ she said and walked away from him, needing to create some space around her. She needed to think and find a way to hide the ever-increasing attraction that had far more to do with a genuine interest in him than the spark of lust-filled desire he had referred to. ‘She just wanted to wish us well and make sure I knew how happy she was that you’d found someone to love.’

His eyes narrowed and he said something under his breath in Spanish. Something she understood.

She thinks I love you?

Lydia ignored the stab of hurt that rushed through her. ‘Of course, I didn’t enlighten her to the fact that neither of us believes in love at all.’

‘This is going to hurt her, when we don’t go through with the marriage.’ He dragged his fingers through his hair, distracting her for a moment from her misgivings, and she tried to focus her mind as he continued in that sexy accent. ‘I didn’t want that.’

‘Then perhaps you should tell her the truth and ask outright if she knows just who her husband was seeing, who the mother of his other son is?’

He turned to glare at her. ‘My father kept another woman’s presence and that of his child from my mother. I do not think she will tell us anything.’

‘But she might know something.’ Lydia tried to keep the desperation from her voice. She had to find his brother. The alternative was just too much to contemplate.

‘No. My father deceived her in the worst possible way—and me.’

‘Maybe this clause in his will is his way of making amends.’ Lydia clutched at futile straws of hope, trying to smooth the roughened waters they were now on. ‘Maybe he’s trying to force you together, to accept one another.’

‘It is a last chance of having a stab at the son he never really wanted.’ Raul’s voice became a growl as he tried to keep his anger in check and deep down she knew his pain. She’d been the daughter her mother and father had not wanted and the only child her mother had carried to term. She knew all about not being wanted.

Despite this she knew he was thinking out loud and for a moment she wanted to tell him about the envelope in her bag. Wouldn’t he want to know its contents? She almost relented, but if she gave it to him wouldn’t that give him all the power once more, when all she wanted to do was get out of the farce of an engagement and back to her life—as a single woman?

‘Well, whatever it is, it’s a mess I intend to get myself out of.’ She spoke forcibly, trying to instil confidence into herself. She had to find a way out of this engagement. She couldn’t risk ending up married to such a cold, unemotional man and, if this was it, she wasn’t prepared to tell him yet.

‘As do I. If you haven’t come up with something within the next few days, then we will have to build on our show of an engagement. Start making more definite plans.’

‘Won’t that give your mother false hope? After all, neither of us plans to go through with this marriage.’

‘Right now I would rather she discover that we are not in love and not getting married than discover the true extent of my father’s treachery.’

‘What is it you have in mind?’ she asked suspiciously, not liking the calculated way his mind worked.

‘We will be seen out in Madrid next week, but the best opportunity to bring a flourishing affair to the attention of the board will be at a thirtieth wedding anniversary party being given by one of them and, knowing the couple concerned, it will be a lavish affair, attended by the elite of Madrid’s society. A chance for you to indulge in your favoured pastime of shopping.’

‘I see, so I am to be paraded around like one of your conquests.’

‘No. You will be on my arm as my intended bride. A very different thing from a conquest.’ There was smugness in his voice. Damn the man. He knew exactly how to get the upper hand.

‘As you wish. I will, as always, do my job to the best of my ability.’ The haughty words flew from her lips and she glared challengingly at him, daring him to disagree.

‘That is all I ask for, Lydia.’

‘Is it?’ She looked hard at him, trying to forget that all-consuming kiss they’d shared in Madrid, the kiss that, if she hadn’t put a stop to it, would have become something they both wanted but couldn’t have. There was no place in their so-called engagement for desire or passion. None whatsoever.

He moved towards her, making her heart leap. ‘Sí, Lydia, it is.’

She sidestepped him. ‘Then I will say goodnight.’

For a moment she thought he was going to say something else, but instead he just smiled, that soft, seductive smile he’d used in his office just hours before she’d all but begged him to kiss her. ‘Goodnight, Lydia.’

Before she could change her mind, she grabbed her purse from the table and went to her room. She closed the door and sat on her bed, taking out the old, yellowed envelope and looking at it for a few moments.

Finally, she opened it, the paper crinkling as she did so. It was in Spanish and she was thankful of her studies. His mother had hired a private investigator and his typewritten reports of Raul’s father’s whereabouts contained all she needed to track Max down.

She was free. They were free. She should tell Raul.

She walked to the door and was about to open it, but paused. What would he think when she went to look for him after the underlying tension in all he’d said before she’d come to her room? Would he think that she wanted to carry on from their kiss? No, she couldn’t risk that, not after the way she had all but begged him to kiss her, to hold her close. A fierce blush rushed over her cheeks as she recalled the way she’d clung to him, pressing her body against his so wantonly.

She couldn’t risk a repeat of that kiss. She had to hold on to the fact that she had all she needed to free herself of Raul Valdez and, if she wanted to, blow his controlled world apart.