His Ultimate Prize

Rafael’s hand tightened into a fist out of her sight and he fought to maintain a regular breathing pattern as she continued.

‘He encouraged me to stay up at the weekend, help him host his parties. When I refused, he got angry, but he didn’t take his anger out on me. The housekeeper’s son, who was the general handyman, got fired when my father saw me talking to him, then the gardener went, then his driver of fifteen years. I got the hint and decided to do as I was told. By the time I turned sixteen, he was entertaining a few nights during the week and most weekends, and the outfits he wanted me to wear to those parties got...skimpier.’

Rafael’s sucked-in breath made her glance up, her eyes wary. Swiftly he kissed her and nudged her nose with his to continue. But the white-hot rage inside him blazed higher.

‘I knew I had to do something. I asked for the housekeeper’s help, even though I knew I was putting her livelihood in jeopardy. Luckily, she was willing to help. We forged my father’s signature and got a DNA test done. When the results came I showed them to him. He was angry, of course, but he couldn’t refute the evidence any longer.’

‘And did things get better?’

She shrugged but Rafael knew the gesture was anything but uncaring. ‘For a time, he reverted to his old, cold indifference. I was hoping he’d take his partying out of the house but they continued...’

Her lids descended and he saw her lips tremble. Spearing his fingers in her hair, he tilted her face until she was forced to look at him. Haunting memory lurked in the green depths. ‘Raven, what happened?’

‘His...his male friends began to take notice of me.’

‘Que diablos!’ He could no longer stem the tide of anger. Right that moment, he wanted nothing more than to track down her bastard of a father and drive his fist into the man’s face. ‘They didn’t take it further than just noticing, did they?’

The longer she stayed silent, the harder his breathing got.

Ignoring the pain throbbing in his groin and hip, he hauled himself against the headboard and dragged her up. Tilting her jaw, he forced her to look into his eyes. ‘Did they?’

Her lower lip trembled. ‘One of them did. One day after a party, I thought everyone had left. He...he came into my room and tried to force himself on me. I’d started training at the gym so I knew a few moves. I managed to struggle free and kicked him where it hurt most.’

He passed his thumb over her lips until they stopped trembling. ‘Bueno. Good girl.’

‘I ran out of my room. My father was waiting in the hallway. I thought he was coming to help me because he’d heard me scream. But he wasn’t...’

Rafael’s blood ran cold. ‘What was he doing?’

‘He knew exactly why his friend had come to my room. In fact, I don’t think his friend could’ve found my room without help.’ She shuddered and goose bumps raced over her arms. He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her.

‘Did you report it to the authorities?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘I’d reported him a few times in the past and been ignored. I knew once again it would be his word against mine. I bought a baseball bat and slept with it under my pillow instead and I moved out on my eighteenth birthday.’

‘Where is he now?’ He entertained thoughts of tracking down the bastard, wielding his own baseball bat.

‘I hadn’t spoken to him until I called him last year to help my mother but, the last I heard, he’d lost all his money in some Ponzi scheme and is living with his mistress somewhere in Scotland.’

Rafael filed that piece of information away. When she gave another shudder, he kissed her again, a little deeper this time. He made sure when she shuddered again minutes later it was with a different reaction, one that set his blood singing again.

On impulse, he got out of bed and tugged her upright.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

He went into his dressing room and came out with a dark blue T-shirt. ‘Put that on.’

‘Why? Where are we going?’

‘You’ll find out in a minute.’ He pulled on his shorts and grabbed her hand.

Five minutes later, she pulled at his grip. ‘No, I’m not going on there.’ She dug her feet into the sand when he would’ve tumbled her onto the wide beach bed.

‘Of course you are. You’ve been dying to try it since we got here.’ He set down the vintage champagne and flutes he’d grabbed from the kitchen.

‘Rafael, it’s the middle of the night,’ she protested, although her glance slid to the white-canopied bed that gleamed under the moon and starlit night.