The Spanish Billionaire's Hired Bride (10 page)

“No, senor, it is too dangerous. Let me.”

Ricardo had been the first to find dead bodies once before. He wasn’t going to let another human being go through that. “I’m taller and stronger than you, Tino. And you’re bleeding everywhere. You’ll frighten them all. Just hold the ladder.” He shot him a stern look and ignored the nausea he was feeling. “Now!”

The wooden ladder wobbled as he climbed it as quickly and safely as possible, blocking out the sensation of heat he could feel emanating from the building. He thanked God that the old building didn’t have modern tiny inaccessible bathroom windows. He’d be able to climb inside reasonably easily.

“Estrella!”

Nothing. His hands shook as he gripped the rough window frame and hauled himself head first inside. There was gr
a
y brown smoke. He coughed, the air scraped at his throat and tongue. In the corner of the bathroom was a huddle of fabric. Wet twisted towels and four sleeping angels.

Twenty seconds of agony elapsed before Ricardo could establish they were all still alive but unconscious. The pressure inside his skull was so intense he could hardly think straight. Exhaling with relief, he made the sign of the cross across his heart before
prying
the baby from her mother’s arms and then ran choking to the window. The bundle in his hands was hot, damp, and felt too heavy for something so small. The smoke grew thicker and more acrid as Helen and Tino stared anxiously up at him.

“Helen, hold the ladder. Tino, up here quickly!”

Tino was visibly shaking as he scrambled up the ladder, tears spilling over his lower lashes. “Is she—”

“They’re all alive, but we must be quick.” He carefully handed over the baby and smiled encouragingly as she started to cry. “Take her to Helen and come back up and help me.”

“First aid kit!” Helen yelled up at him. “Got one in the car?”

“Under the dashboard,” he said, his voice sounding harsher than he intended. “But not until they’re all out and down!”

Two more trips and Ricardo was carrying down Estrella over his shoulder as the sound of sirens and engines came at last. Ricardo stood back and silently watched as the professionals took over, catching his breath and willing his heart rate to slow down now the situation was under control.

He felt a cool hand on his forearm. “You saved their lives,” Helen whispered.

“They would have been okay.” Ricardo closed his eyes for a few seconds. “We should go now.”

Chapter Nine

Ricardo was silent and stony-faced on the journey back to the villa, and Helen couldn’t think of anything to say under the circumstances. General chitchat felt inappropriate. The man she had seen in action wasn’t the shallow playboy billionaire she’d thought she’d married. He’d shown extraordinary strength and self-control under pressure, and his hands weren’t shaking with the shock of it all like hers were.

They’d stayed an hour or so after the ambulance left, and Ricardo had made sure there was somebody to deal with every aspect of the farm while Tino was at the hospital. The animals still had to be fed and stabled, clothes and toiletries would need to be taken to the hospital, phone calls needed to be made, forms filled out…the list seemed endless.

“I need a drink. I don’t know about you,” he said as they arrived back at the villa. He suddenly looked completely drained. “A large one.”

“Just what the doctor ordered,” Helen said and tried to keep up as he strode across the drive towards the front door.

Once inside the living room, its glass doors flung open to the warm sea breeze and cry of seabirds. Ricardo handed her a large tumbler of whiskey before knocking his own back in one go. His voice was gravely. “Sorry, did you want ice?”

“It’s okay, I’ll get some.” She sniffed the smoky liquid. “I’ll need a dash of lemonade from the kitchen if I’m going to swallow this lot and live.”

“Sorry, there’s other stuff,” he said and ran his forearm across the soot and sweat on his the forehead. “Come on, let’s see what we can find in there. The fridge is always full.”

Helen noticed a tremor in his hand as she gave him back her glass. “You have that and then go and have a long hot bath. I can manage a fridge door on my own.”

“Thanks.” He sipped the second whiskey more slowly. “Sure you don’t mind?”

“Of course not, as long as Lucia’s not guarding it!”

“Lucia has her hands full with her family right now. I’ve given her as much time off as she needs. But she’ll be your best friend forever after what you did today, don’t worry.” He drained his glass and put it down with a click on a glass table.

“I didn’t do much.”

He shook his head. “You were there for me,” he said quietly. “And for Tino and his family. There to help, no questions asked. Not many women I’ve known would have done that, risked ruining their expensive manicures and hairstyles.”

Helen glanced down at her hands. Her wedding manicure was a distant memory. She had a torn nail and the rest were full of dirt. “I think I’d better wash these while I’m in the kitchen,” she said laughing. “And then have a bath myself.”

“Good idea,” Ricardo said and turned to leave. “I’ll see you later.”

Later? That didn’t sound like an invitation to join him with a bar of soap. Helen shrugged and tried to put her disappointment aside. Thinking he might want her to join him for anything other than sex was irrational, not to mention stupid. She had no right to try to comfort him after the trauma of the fire, or indeed seek comfort herself. This was a business relationship, not an emotional one. She’d feel better after that drink.

.

“Do you like seafood?” Ricardo asked as he finished preparing the wood oven on the terrace. “The charcoal will be white-hot and ready in about half an hour.”

Helen was staring out to sea, the newspaper she had been reading folded neatly on the table beside her. She turned her head to look at him as he approached. “Depends what it is,” she said cautiously, her bright green eyes sparkling like glass in the afternoon sun.

Ricardo drew up a chair beside her and placed a glass jug and two highball glasses on the table. “Perhaps it would be easier to tell me what you do and don’t like then.”

“No whelks or oysters, not that I’ve ever been brave enough or drunk enough to try them.”

“But they’re supposed to make you horny,” he said and felt a zing of pleasure when she rewarded him with a broad grin.

Helen snorted. “Whelks? Yeah, right, like gagging is romantic.”

“I meant the oysters. I’ve never had whelks either, I don’t think.”

“They look like massive snails with disgusting looking gr
a
y and yellow innards.” She made a retching noise. “My granny used to
pry
them out with a pin and drown them in vinegar.”

Her face was a picture of revulsion and he couldn’t help letting a small laugh escape. “Actually, they do sound disgusting.”

“They have to be looking like that, don’t they?”

“I was going to suggest grilling some local red prawns scattered with garlic oil and flakes of sea salt, but if you’d prefer steak ribs—”

“Oh no, they sound perfect!”

Ricardo took her small hand in his and rubbed his thumb across the surface of the diamond on her ring finger. “You washed your hands.”

“I washed
everything
,” she said provocatively. “I found a bathroom on my way to the kitchen and it looked so inviting …”

He lifted her hand, twisted it and kissed the inside of her wrist. The skin was delicate and soft, her pulse like the touch of a butterfly’s wing against his lips. “You look and smell wonderful.”

“Thank you,” she murmured. Color tinted her cheeks, spreading like pink ink dropped in water. “You have immaculate taste in toiletries.”

“I have immaculate taste in everything,” he said silkily. “Especially where women are concerned.”

Helen frowned playfully and pulled her hand away. “I bet you say that to all the girls, you feckless swine.”

Ricardo chuckled. “I love it when you insult me like that, wife.”

Her eyes widened with mock outrage, and she smacked his forearm with the newspaper. “Make that ‘you feckless
pervert
swine’!”

Ricardo just laughed and began to pour from the jug. “How come nobody’s married you before now, Helen? I’m baffled.” Ice cubes clanked and bubbles leapt over the rim of the Murano glassware.

“I’m only twenty-four, Ricardo. Give a girl a chance!”

“Seriously, though. I saw the way Hippy looked at you, you can’t have ever been short of boyfriends looking like you do.”

“Stop fishing about, Almanza, and ask me what you really want to know.” Her emerald gaze held him fast, and he was lost for words for a second or two. She was as sharp as needles.

“Okay, how many men in your life?” There, he’d said it, she’d made him. He wanted to know.

“It’s really none of your business.”

“So?” He did his most persuasive smile, dropped his hand to her knee and began to stroke it.

She sighed. “Four. None of them particularly serious or long lasting. I moved around a lot with university and travel, and looking back, I think all of them were only after one thing.”

“You mean—”

She gestured at her chest, molded into stunning curves by the bronze beaded bodice of her sundress. “I’ve been led to believe I have great tits, but I’m not exactly good marriage material.”

“Seriously?”

“For real.” She picked up her glass and sniffed. “And to save you asking, my first time was at a young farmers’ party after too much cider. In a barn. Now, what is this potion you’ve given me?”

“Pomada, Mahon gin, lemonade, sugar syrup and a slice of lemon.” A shutter had come down behind her eyes. She was putting him at arm’s length and it served him right. It
was
none of his business. Not unless he proved himself better than the previous four. “And the hippy? Was he number four?”

“No, he was not!”

“Are you sure?”

Her tone was a touch irritable. “Of course I’m sure, Ricardo. I’m not a mentalist. I do know what I’m doing most of the time.”

“You met him on an archaeological course, you said. That is an unusual recreation for a young woman in Ibiza, you have to admit.”

“You think so?” She took a long drink from her glass and took a moment before swallowing. “Ooh, that
is
nice.”

She was trying to politely change the subject, but he had developed a strong dislike of her dodgy friend Bjorn. It wasn’t jealousy. It was merely concern driving him to uncover everything about their relationship, that’s all. “Tell me about it.”

“Archaeology’s always interested me, ever since my grandparents bought me a metal detector for Christmas when I was nine. I’d spend hours wandering around the fields and estuary looking for stuff. Once you’re bitten by the bug it’s hard to stop.”

“Did you find anything valuable?”

Helen laughed. “If I’d found a big hoard of treasure, I wouldn’t have had to marry you, would I?”

“I guess not.”

“I did find some old clay smoking pipes though and some broken pottery, and lots of rubbish.”

“And with the hippy? Did you find any fascinating art
i
facts together?”

“His name is Bjorn, and yes we found some very nice things. Some of the groups’ Phoenician-Punic finds are being displayed in the Archaeological Museum in the Old Town. Do you know it?”

“The one by the cathedral, yes, I know it well, but haven’t been inside for a long time.”

“We should go. I could show you the bits we unearthed.”

He tried to suppress a frown but failed miserably. He really didn’t have time for this Bjorn character and he didn’t want Helen to either. “You and him?”

“The entire group. There are about twenty of us.” Helen sighed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were jealous.”

“That would
be
a preposterous conclusion. I don’t trust him, that’s all.”

“You’ve barely met him, how can you possibly judge?”

“I saw the way he looked at you. The way he spoke. The way he touched you.”

Anger bubbled up inside him and the words came out before he could stop them. “And he said something about ‘only two weeks ago’ you were doing something that made him surprised you were suddenly married. What conclusion am I supposed to come to with that?”

“That we’ve been at it like rabbits on acid obviously!”

“Well?”

Helen braced her hands on the arms of the chair as if to stand up. “Well
what
?”

“What did he mean by that?”

“I haven’t a clue, Ricardo, perhaps he was just trying to wind you up? Perhaps he didn’t like the look of my new married-in-haste husband. Maybe he suspected you were after one thing, or my money!” She laughed humorlessly. “This conversation is starting to get on my nerves.”

She was right. He was behaving like a control freak. What the hell was wrong with him? “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “It’s been a shit day.”

Helen was silent for a moment and then her expression softened. “Then let’s not make it any worse.” To his surprise she reached across and put her hand over his. It was soft and cool. It felt good. “I have an idea.”

“Tell me more,” he said, feeling calmer.

“Lucia isn’t going to be here for a while, right?” She feigned a gasp of horror and slapped the back of her hand against her forehead dramatically. “Which means we have to fend for ourselves?”

He couldn’t stop a smile escaping. “Don’t worry, you’re in good hands.”

She grinned broadly. “I thought you’d say something like that, so how about you teach me to cook?”

“There’s no need, Helen. I like to cook now and again, and when I don’t we can get someone else to do it, or go out, or order in. You don’t need to cook any more.”

“Not for three months I don’t,” she said with a wry smile. “But consider this. If you teach me to cook I might snag myself a
real
husband one day. A husband that loves me.”

That remark shouldn’t have hurt quite as much as it did. It was a sharp, sudden pain that caught him unawares. It unsettled him, and he wasn’t sure why. That was the deal, after all. Three months and they were done. “Then there’s no time like the present. Let’s go fetch those prawns.”

“Deal,” she said and stood up. He looked up into her smiling face. He’d not seen her from that angle before. She was beautiful. The underside of her chin was a perfect triangle, and like alabaster. He wanted to taste it. “And Ricardo,” she whispered playfully. “Bjorn is gay.”

…

Helen ran her fingers along the grain of the kitchen table and watched with fascination as Ricardo rummaged through the fridge. “Tell me about your friend, Jerardo.”

“Jerardo?” He shot her a puzzled look over his shoulder and then resumed his search.

“Yes, our best man.”

Ricardo let out a sharp laugh. “That’s not why he was there, Helen. He needed to be present to make sure I really did get married! He’s not a friend.”

Helen caught the bulb of garlic he tossed in her direction. “I did think he was probably a bit old to be a mate, but I didn’t know what else to call him.”

Ricardo laughed. “Conniving old bastard will do.”

“What did you do to him to make him hate you so much?” She looked at the garlic bulb curiously and sniffed it.

“I never did anything to him. Now wash this parsley under the tap, will you?”

She took the bunch of cool green herbs from him and wandered over to the sink. “So why did he blackmail you into getting married against your will? What was in it for him?”

“Revenge. Cold, hard-hearted revenge. Whatever it cost him. Even though my father’s dead now, he clearly feels the need to try and punish the entire Almanza line.”

“So your dad did something to him?” She turned the tap on too quickly and water splashed up over her arms and chest. “Damn!”

He laughed at the state of her. “Persistent creature, aren’t you?”

“And wet!” Helen grinned. “Just tell me what happened!”

Ricardo sighed and leaned against the edge of the sink next to her. “Jerardo and my father were business partners many years ago. Jerardo put up the capital in the early days, spoiled rich kid that he was, and my father was the business brains and the charisma. To cut a long story short, my dad stole Jerardo’s fiancée and married her himself, and he never forgave him.”

Helen’s tone softened as he dabbed at her wet collarbone with a dry cloth. “So your mother was supposed to marry Jerardo?”

“No, my mother was divorced by my father so he could marry the Condesa. The Condesa, your old boss, was the ‘other woman’ and Jerardo’s fiancée. They both wanted her for her title and aristocratic connections even though her ennobled family was penniless. She was also well known for being a complete whore in bed. They found her irresistible.”