The Billionaire's Virgin Box Set

Just her work gear and a suit that she thought she could use for interviews. The glamorous shoes and dresses she ignored because she just couldn’t imagine herself ever wanting to party again.

Closing the small case, she carried it over to the door of the Beach House and then turned to allow herself one last look. Four large, stylish lamps threw shafts of golden light across the room and for one desperately indulgent moment she stood, gazing at the pale wood floors, the filmy white curtains and the soft sofas piled with exotically coloured cushions.

It was just a house, she reminded herself bleakly. Just a house.

If she wanted to, she could reproduce it in the next place she lived.

Except that it wasn’t just a house, was it?

Everything about the place reminded her of Raul. It had been their home.

She turned off three of the lights and was just reaching to do the same with the fourth, when Raul’s voice came from behind her.

‘If you seriously think I’d let you walk away from me a second time then you don’t know me at all.’ His words shimmering with suppressed violence, he spoke from the doorway and Faith turned, her heart rate suddenly doubling.

‘I thought you’d—’ She stumbled over the words. ‘I thought you’d gone.’

‘Gone?’ Winged dark brows met in a menacing frown. The collar of his shirt was undone and his eyes blazed dark with anger. ‘Gone where?’

‘I don’t know.’ Her legs were trembling and her stomach was churning and she gave a helpless little shrug. ‘As far away as possible, I suppose.’

The last remaining light illuminated his black, glossy hair and the fierce burn of his eyes. ‘I’m not the one who runs in this relationship. Does our marriage really mean so little to you?’ His tone grim, he strode forward and took her face in his hands, forcing her to look at him. ‘If you’re going to cry, you can damn well cry on my shoulder. Not on some stranger in an aeroplane.’

‘This isn’t the time to be possessive and territorial,’ she muttered in a thickened voice. ‘Just let me go, Raul.’

His answer to that was to slide an arm around her waist, locking her against him. ‘Talk to me, cariño. I want to know what you’re thinking because at the moment the working of your brain is a complete mystery to me and I’m not used to that. Usually you talk about everything. Why would you even consider leaving when we are so good together?’

‘Didn’t you hear what I told you? I’m pregnant.’

His eyes narrowed warily. ‘Sí, I heard that part. What I didn’t hear is why this news would make you miserable. I thought you wanted this baby.’

‘I did. I do.’ She gave a painful little smile. ‘But I also wanted you and the two things aren’t compatible are they? You don’t want babies. You don’t like children!’

Her passionate statement was met by a long throbbing silence and then he drew in a long breath and released her, his shoulders tense and his eyes suddenly wary. ‘I have never once in our relationship told you that I don’t like children.’

‘No marriage, no babies.’ Her tone was flat as she quoted him word for word. ‘That’s what you told me.’

‘Perhaps. I mean—’ For some reason his English seemed to lack its usual fluency. ‘Yes. I did say that but I have never said that I didn’t like children.’ He ran a hand around the back of his neck and his obvious struggle to find the words he wanted puzzled her. She’d never known Raul anything less than stunningly articulate.

‘It’s fine, Raul. You honestly don’t have to explain.’

‘Dios mío, I am trying to tell you something. Usually you are pushing me and pushing me to talk and talk and suddenly when I am trying to talk, you are stopping me!’ His fierce glare suggested that he was holding her personally responsible for his difficulties in that area and her eyes widened.

‘Because I know you hate talking—’

‘I want to tell you.’

‘Oh.’ Her heart thudding, she looked at him expectantl

y and his eyes darkened angrily.

‘I have no idea how to say it,’ he snapped at her impatiently. ‘I’m not like you. I can’t just spill out everything I’m feeling. I’ve never actually said this before so I have no idea how to say it.’

Faith waited patiently and he glared at her again.

‘It isn’t that I don’t like children,’ he began, but then he stopped, a frown on his face.

Faith decided that she’d better help him. ‘I understand. You have this great life, Raul.’ She waved an arm in the vague direction of the estancia. ‘You fly off in your private jet at a moment’s notice, you can dine in Paris or New York whenever you like without giving another thought to another person. Why would you want to compromise that lifestyle?’