Raul's Revenge

Penny shrugged, trying to dislodge his hold on her and at the same time, she hoped, convey her indif­ference to him. 'Don't tell me the sweet Dulcie has given you your marching orders again?' she queried sarcas­tically, privately thinking that it was no more than he deserved.

‘This is between you and me and our son. Forget Dulcie,' he advised bitingly. 'You have a hell of a lot more to worry about.'

Penny stared up at him, her blue eyes widening in alarm. His 'our son' struck terror in her heart. Now she knew why he was here. 'I don't think I need to worry,' she muttered, nervously licking her dry lips with the tip of her tongue.

He smiled—a satanic twist of his hard lips. 'But I know so, my sweet Penny. For starters, worry about depriving a man of his son.' A black brow lifted. 'He is mine. Don't bother trying to deny it.'

'No, he is mine,' she shot back, infuriated by his ar­rogant claim to fatherhood when he had never given a damn before now. 'You were his biological father, nothing more. A test-tube these days fulfils the same function.'

A flash of naked, seething anger ignited the golden flecks in his deep brown eyes. 'I am still his father, even if you did do your damnedest to blacken my name on national television.'

She had not meant to do that, and flushed guiltily. 'I was upset. But it was still the truth,' she retaliated.

'You were upset! How the hell do you think I felt? I arrived at the penthouse yesterday lunchtime, switched on the television and discovered I had a child I knew nothing about—a child, moreover, who had been kid­napped. And there you were, calling me the worst form of low life.'

'I never mentioned your name.'

'You might as well have done. You must have known I would claim my son.'

She ran a nervous hand through the tangle of her long hair. Amazingly it had never once entered her head. Her only thought had been for her lost child. She looked up and caught his grim, implacable glance and went pale. 'It never occurred to me.'

'My God! As naive as ever. And you actually think you have nothing to worry about. Let me enlighten you, Penny; you have a great deal to worry about unless you do exactly as I say,' he drawled with a silken menace that made her blood run cold. 'Now! Where is he? I want to see him.'

'You can't. He is asleep,' she answered, swallowing hard on the fear that threatened to choke her.

'I can wait.'

She did not doubt it for a second. She tried to think; Raul had seen her on television... In her distress over James it had never once occurred to her that Raul might be in London and see the appeal. 'You were in England, then?' she voiced her thought out loud.

'Exactly.' His fingers bit painfully into her shoulder, the one word carrying an undeniable threat.

A shiver of fear ran down her spine, making her tremble. 'You're hurting me,' she said in a soft, frightened voice. But the fear was all for James, not herself. No way was Raul taking James. She had lost him once for twenty-four hours; that was enough.

She had not even told Amy the whole truth, but secretly she half blamed Raul for the abduction of her son. If she had not been glancing through Hello magazine in the waiting room and just seen a photo­graph of Raul and Dulcie at some grand gala in Madrid— Dulcie sporting a very ostentatious diamond ring on her engagement finger—Penny might have had enough sense not to hand James over to the bogus nurse.

'You're lucky I don't kill you. That was my first desire,' he informed her, the violence in his tone shocking her rigid, 'until I spoke to my lawyer and realised that at the moment I need you in order to see my son.'

His mention of a lawyer was so icily precise and so like him, Penny thought bitterly. Not for Raul the rush to support and comfort the panic-stricken mother, but a discreet call to his lawyer to prepare his case. He could not have underlined more clearly how little he thought of her.

She hated him in that moment with a rage she could barely contain. She wanted to scream that he was not getting her son, to claw at his conceited, arrogant face, but she did not dare. She had to know his intentions if she was to protect her child. So instead she stood with head bent and made herself count to twenty under her breath, fighting to maintain some self-control.

'No comment, Penny, darling?' he prompted sca­thingly. His other hand reaching to tip her chin up, he stared down at her deadly pale face, then lower, his gaze roaming slowly over her in insolent appraisal.

Penny forced herself to suffer his contemptuous perusal without flinching. She knew what he would see, and for a second she wished that she had dressed more conservatively that morning. A skimpy white vest left her arms bare and her denim cut-offs clung to her slim hips, leaving her bare-legged and barefoot. Hardly the power dressing necessary to face a powerful enemy such as Raul, she thought wryly.

But she refused to let him see how angry and frightened she was. She hated him, and hell would freeze over before she let him get anywhere near her precious James. Un­fortunately, putting her feelings into words was not so easy when Raul towered threateningly over her, holding her. She was still reeling with the shock of his arrival and silently raging inside that he dared come.

'Brave but foolish,' Raul remarked, seeing the de­fiance in her blue eyes.

She stared coldly back at him. The first thing she had noticed when he had pushed his way into her home was that his thick black hair was liberally sprinkled with grey. But now she saw the change in his features. His face was thinner, the cheekbones more pronounced. The lines around his eyes had deepened with the passage of time and two deep lines bracketed his hard mouth.

He was still an incredibly attractive man; his new leanness simply made him appear even more powerful, more predatory, like some sleek black panther waiting to leap... The trick was to make sure that it was not her he leapt on, Penny told herself sternly. Not easy when sh

e was acutely aware of his hand on her shoulder and cupping her chin.

Marshalling her thoughts, she picked her words care­fully. 'Not foolish,' she said slowly. 'Age and motherhood have taught me patience and caution. I can spare you five minutes. Say what you have to say and go.' She was rather proud of her response, even though her heart was fluttering like a captive bird, and she silently congratulated herself on her hard-won maturity.

'Caution! You?' Raul laughed—a harsh, humourless sound that grated on the ear. 'You don't know the meaning of the word,' he mocked.