A Diamond for Del Rio's Housekeeper Page 11

  Her chin lifted when she saw him and a faint smile touched her lips. The connection between them was immediate, and obvious to everyone else. He didn’t care about anyone else, and watched entranced as she walked down the stairs towards him. She’d left her hair loose, the way he liked it, and she was so surprisingly elegant, and yet so painfully vulnerable. He wanted to shield her from all the hungry eyes, but sensed that this walk through the lines of the great and good was something Rosie wanted to do on her own.

  Her beauty transfixed every man in the room. His hackles rose as they stared at her. But it was more than Rosie’s physical perfection that held him. She was luminous. She had an inner serenity that no other woman could match. She might have been a lost soul from the orphanage when she had first arrived on Isla Del Rey, but Rosie Clifton had found herself tonight, and she was magnificent.

  The conductor lifted his baton when she reached the middle of the dance floor, and struck up an elegant Viennese waltz. Some alchemy dictated that Rosie didn’t walk towards him, but appeared to float in time to the music as the crowd fell back to let her pass. A collective sigh went up when she reached his side. All thoughts of crude gossip were instantly forgotten. She had silenced the chatterers with nothing more than her poise and innocent appeal.

  ‘Good evening, Xavier.’

  ‘Margaret’s done a good job,’ he replied dryly, and with maximum understatement.

  ‘I did have some say in it,’ she reprimanded him with the hint of a smile.

  His groin tightened as she continued to stare levelly into his eyes. ‘I’m sure you did,’ he agreed, ‘and I have to say, you look very beautiful.’

  ‘Do I?’ She seemed stunned by his comment.

  ‘Of course you do,’ he confirmed, as if this were obvious. ‘You’re easily the most beautiful woman in the room.’

  His senses were in overload. He was in an agony of lust, but something more was happening to him. For all that he boasted of having no feelings, he felt something now, and it was a feeling far more powerful than lust; a feeling that made him want to lead her out of here to somewhere private and quiet. Everything about her: the scent she was wearing, her warmth, her gaze on his face, and her body within inches of his; he could only think she had bewitched him. Remaining cool and detached, as he had intended, was no longer a certainty. His body was like that of a youth with no control.

  ‘I was hoping you’d approve,’ she said.

  He could see the vulnerability in her eyes. She was so bold, and yet so fragile. Physically, she was small and soft and desirable, and he would have to be made of stone not to want her. ‘Do you approve?’ he murmured. ‘I mean, your engagement ball,’ he explained, glancing around. He suddenly realised that her answer really mattered to him.

  ‘It’s such a beautiful evening. I only hope I don’t spoil it for you.’

  ‘I shall have to keep you close all night, to make sure you don’t,’ he said.

  The intimacy between them grew rapidly after that. It was almost as if they were enclosed in a private bubble that excluded all his guests, leaving them on the outside looking in. Rosie laughed and relaxed as he drew her into his arms for the first dance. He would have liked that moment, that very first moment of contact between them, to last for the rest of the night. Her skin felt so warm and soft beneath his touch, and when she closed her hand around his, the desire to protect her overwhelmed him. All thoughts of bargains between them vanished instantly. He was seriously interested in this woman. He wanted her like no other. Judging by the hectic rise and fall of her breasts, she wanted him too. It didn’t take long for his thoughts to stray onto the dark side as he contemplated all that innocence aching for his experience to lead the way. It was a feeling that would remain with him for the rest of the night.

  His guests applauded politely as he led Rosie in the dance. They were eager to catch their first glimpse of the innocent young housekeeper in the arms of the Spanish Grandee, and had formed a tight circle around them. If they knew Rosie had proposed to him, they wouldn’t believe it. That was enough to make him smile. There was the added satisfaction of feeling Rosie tremble when he placed his hand in the small of her back. By the end of the night, his guests would be saying theirs was a love-match. He laughed inwardly at the thought, and almost wished it were true.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  MARGARET SMILED ENCOURAGEMENT as Rosie danced with Xavier. If being this close to him hadn’t reminded Rosie so vividly of her loss of control at the cocktail party, she might have relaxed, and enjoyed being in his arms. As it was, she felt overwhelmed by what she’d done, and deeply worried for the future of her waning control. Just being this close to him, dancing with him, being in his arms, was enough to cloud her judgement. Being married to him was no guarantee she could handle him. Xavier was so much more experienced than she was. And yet she felt he was right for her in every way. Or was that just this romantic setting and her romantic nature combining? The expression in his eyes was warmer than she’d ever seen it, but—

  ‘Relax,’ he said, sensing her tension.

  She must relax. She had to hide her feelings. Keeping them under wraps was what had always kept her safe. Xavier was super-intuitive. She had to remember that at all times.

  One dance led to another, and then the ambassador cut in. Xavier yielded to the older man gracefully, but when a young royal prince tried to do the same he wasn’t so accommodating. Seeing how tense he’d become, she politely declined the prince, pleading tiredness as she allowed Xavier to lead her away.

  ‘You have a very beautiful home,’ she said as he escorted her outside. ‘You have great taste.’

  ‘My decorators have great taste,’ he corrected her.

  ‘The floral displays are exquisite.’

  ‘I’m glad you like them,’ he said with a smile that suggested he’d softened a little.

  She thought he’d probably guessed that she was trying to distract herself from the purpose of the ball. ‘Roses are my favourite flowers...’

  She wasn’t sure he heard her as he led her through the French doors and onto the veranda overlooking the exquisite formal gardens. ‘I can only imagine growing up in a place like this.’ Resting her forearms on the marble balustrade, she leaned over to glance around.

  ‘I didn’t grow up here.’

  She was instantly alert at his tone, which was tinged with old hurt.

  ‘I went away to school,’ he revealed.

  ‘And then you lived with your aunt?’

  ‘In the holidays, yes,’ he confirmed in the same stilted tone.

  ‘You didn’t see a lot of your parents.’

  She’d struck a nerve, Rosie thought as a muscle flexed in Xavier’s jaw.

  ‘I bought this house with my first fortune,’ he said.

  ‘Your first fortune?’ she teased, wanting to reach out to him, and not really knowing how.

  ‘I won’t deny I’ve been successful.’

  ‘And why should you? You should be proud of what you’ve achieved.’ Especially after surviving the legacy of bitterness created by his parents’ self-indulgent lifestyle, she wanted to add.

  ‘And so should you,’ he said, surprising her. ‘In some ways, we’re not so different, you and I.’

  She laughed. ‘Just a billion or so apart, and then, of course, there’s your title—’

  ‘Which doesn’t mean a thing,’ he said. ‘Come on—’ He indicated that she should go ahead of him. ‘It’s time to go inside so I can make the announcement.’

  Her heart banged in her chest at the thought, and she had to remind herself that this was her idea. She knew the moment had to come, but just to hear it said in public would make it real. She had dreamed of this moment since she was a little girl, but had never thought it would be like this. Her dreams had been hazy, involving a handsome lover, and Rosie smiling happily and trustingly into the face of the man she would spend the rest of her life with. Instead, she’d got an arrangement; a marriage of convenience, as Xavie
r had called it. No one must guess they were faking their emotions, or they would both become figures of ridicule, and her chance to raise support for the island amongst people who mattered would be dust. That didn’t stop her wishing the fantasy could come true, and Xavier’s announcement would mark the beginning of something wonderful, rather than the beginning of the end.

  ‘Before we go in,’ he said, drawing her to one side, ‘I want to show you the ring—so there are no surprises,’ he explained.

  ‘You’ve already surprised me,’ Rose admitted. ‘I didn’t expect a ring.’

  Xavier frowned as he asked, ‘Do you think so little of me?’

  ‘Not at all,’ she admitted frankly. ‘It’s just that I didn’t expect anything beyond an announcement of our engagement.’

  ‘Of course there must be a ring,’ he said.

  ‘Of course,’ she agreed, realising that her comment was further proof of her naivety. The assembled guests would expect her to have an engagement ring. This was Don Xavier Del Rio’s fabulously lavish engagement party, after all.

  She got another shock, and not a good one, when Xavier flipped the lid on a night-blue velvet box. ‘I can’t accept that,’ she protested, looking at the huge jewel sideways as if it were a snake. To Rosie’s eyes, it seemed to be an unnecessarily large stone.

  ‘Why?’ he demanded, seeming bemused.

  ‘Because I don’t need such a valuable diamond.’

  ‘What did you imagine I would give you?’ Xavier demanded, scrutinising the enormous diamond solitaire as if he were seeing it for the first time. ‘I can’t see anything wrong with this ring.’

  ‘There’s nothing wrong with it,’ Rosie admitted. ‘It’s absolutely stunning. It’s just not for me.’

  Anyone would have been dazzled by the rainbow sparkle thrown off by the magnificent stone. It was a beautiful and obviously priceless gem, but it belonged in a crown, or a sceptre.

  And now she had offended him.

  ‘What do you want?’ he asked, frowning.

  ‘Something smaller and more discreet?’

  ‘Small?’ he repeated, as if she had suggested something obscene.

  ‘Smaller,’ she said, knowing they couldn’t keep their guests waiting much longer.

  ‘Well, it’s too late for that,’ he said, ‘and, under the circumstances, I think everyone should be left in no doubt that I am fully committed to this match.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You must think me ungrateful.’ She only wished there were no barriers between them, and she could really explain how she felt, but she was as much to blame for the distance between them as Xavier. Rosie’s childhood had taught her to feel that she wasn’t worthy of love, and she guessed that his had taught him pretty much the same. ‘I’d rather not wear this,’ she said honestly as she handed back the ring. ‘Wearing it would feel dishonest to me.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ Xavier insisted, but something in his eyes suggested he might just understand. He confirmed her suspicion when he said, ‘I do know you a little. That’s why I took you aside. I anticipated some reluctance on your part, but we can’t disappoint our guests now. We’ll go back into the ballroom, where you will smile when I make the formal announcement of our engagement, and gasp with pleasure when I show you the ring.’

  It was only the understanding in his eyes that made her agree. ‘All right, I’ll do it,’ she said. Her heart squeezed tight when she saw the relief on his face. ‘Of course I’ll do it,’ she repeated, suddenly filled with the most urgent need to reassure him.

  * * *

  The next day every newspaper carried the story of the fabulous engagement ball at Don Xavier Del Rio’s palatial mansion, which had taken yet another eligible bachelor off the scene. Everyone seemed to have been persuaded by their play-acting, Rosie read with relief. She was back at the hotel, and had ordered every newspaper she could think of, so she could check that no one suspected their engagement was a fake, and their subsequent marriage would be a sham. They’d made the headlines, of course, and there were endless shots of Rosie staring lovingly at Xavier, and Xavier smiling down at his fiancée. There were even more shots of the ring, and from every possible angle. ‘The ring of the century’ some were saying, as if the fabulous jewel were a weather condition that had blown everyone away.

  As far as Rosie was concerned the ring was a monstrous billboard, reminding her of her mistake in ever thinking this plan made sense. How could she play-act a marriage to Xavier, when she was fast developing feelings for him? And to make matters worse, they were feelings that would only be dismissed and discarded by Xavier, who wasn’t capable of feeling anything.

  The ring was also a huge responsibility, Rosie reflected, tossing the newspaper aside, and one she had no interest in keeping. The diamond was so big and heavy it kept swinging around her finger, and she didn’t dare to take it off in case she lost it. She knew she was being ungrateful, but the ring seemed to represent everything that was wrong with their match. She held the ring up to the light. It was so big it looked unreal. So, perhaps it was the perfect ring, after all...

  She was going to keep her promise to Doña Anna but at a far higher price than she’d imagined. If she and Xavier were lucky enough to have a child, she would love that baby with every fibre of her being, and defend it fiercely from hurt, but would Xavier do the same, or was the idea of an heir just a figure of speech to him?

  One of the worst parts of the ball had been speaking to the islanders after the announcement of their engagement. Xavier had invited a group of them to the ball. Trying to join in their excitement at the news of their engagement had torn her in two. She hated the pretence, and wondered if Xavier had noticed that she’d left the ball almost immediately after talking to them. Seeing she was upset, Margaret had stepped in, calling for the driver to take Rosie back to the hotel. Rosie had slipped away while Xavier had been talking to the ambassador. She hadn’t wanted to interrupt him, or give him the chance to try to stop her leaving. She’d played her part. She had been charming to all his guests, and they’d been charming back, now that she was to marry such a prominent member of the aristocracy. Safely back at the hotel, she’d stared at herself in the mirror, hardly recognising the woman in the exquisite dress. She’d washed her face, put on her cotton PJ’s, and had fallen into bed exhausted, sleeping fitfully as she dreamed about an impossibly handsome man, dancing the night away with an impossibly naïve woman, who didn’t have a clue what tomorrow held.

  She sprang alert at the sound of a knock on the door. Breakfast. Thank goodness! She was starving. She’d been too nervous to eat before the ball, and during it she had been with—

  ‘Xavier?’

  She stood back from the door as he strode in. ‘Are you all right? If I’d known you were coming...’ Smoothing her hair, she tightened the belt on the hotel’s towelling robe. He looked as if he hadn’t slept for a week. His stubble was thick. His hair was tangled. He had obviously tugged on the first jeans he’d found.

  ‘Everyone wondered where you got to last night,’ he said, swinging around to face her.

  Was he angry, or was he concerned about her? She couldn’t tell. His eyes were ravaged with exhaustion, and his body looked unbearably tense.

  ‘I stayed at the ball until almost midnight.’

  ‘I know when you left,’ he said. ‘And you left without a word to your host.’ He angled his chin, his black eyes firing questions at her.

  ‘My fiancé,’ she corrected him in a timely reminder that they had both made a pledge last night in front of hundreds of witnesses.

  ‘You should have stayed. We have a lot to talk through.’

  ‘Like...?’ she prompted, unconsciously twisting the belt on her robe until it started to cut into her hand.

  Like how he felt about fathering a child, Xavier thought, when there was no possibility of him developing a talent for empathy, or learning parenting skills in the time available. ‘Like your views on becoming a mother,’ he said. ‘Are you ready for it? You’re
very young.’

  ‘But I feel as if I’ve been preparing for this all my life. Surely you must know how I feel? I’ve dreamed of nothing but having a family of my own for as long as I can remember.’

  ‘But not forming that family like this, surely?’

  ‘If your heir means nothing more to you than securing the island, then, yes, I do have doubts,’ she admitted.

  ‘For the child,’ he said, nodding agreement. ‘So you can only hope I’ll feel differently once the child is born?’

  ‘Maybe you never will,’ she said, her eyes searching his. ‘Or, maybe you’re worried that you won’t be able to feel any different when you’re a father.’

  ‘I’m supposed to experiment on a child? I’m supposed to wait to see how I feel when it’s born?’ he exclaimed, growing increasingly heated.

  ‘I hope you know that’s not what I meant,’ Rosie said with real concern. She’d never seen him like this before. ‘Both of us knew this would never be easy.’

  ‘Easy?’ He huffed an ugly laugh. ‘That’s an understatement. Are you saying you want to pull out?’

  He sounded almost hopeful. ‘You should know me better than that,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Maybe you want me to slow down—give you more time?’ Xavier suggested.

  ‘What difference would waiting make?’

  He seemed to be the one needing reassurance, and so she admitted quietly, ‘My only concern is for the baby.’ She couldn’t help but smile. Her heart was full to overflowing at the thought of a child. ‘A child needs security and a proper home—’