One Night with Gael (Rival Brothers 2)

‘Gael...?’

‘This is why I didn’t think I needed to point things out to you. The chemistry between us is as natural and vital as breathing. But if you need to be told, then hear this. Unspoken or not, sex is part of the deal. You may have a ring on your finger, but—trust me—this isn’t a point I’m prepared to concede. So argue with yourself all you want to as long as you come back with a yes. Because tomorrow night the only bed you’ll be sleeping in is mine.’

He stepped off the bed with the grace of a jungle cat and stood for a moment, staring down at her.

Words stumbled through her dazed senses—begging, pleading words that had no shame under the heavy weight of her thwarted need. With super-human effort Goldie bit them back. He’d dealt her the gravest of insults, attacked her integrity. Even if she risked expiring from the gut-clenching desire clamouring through her she wouldn’t give in. Not when she knew his true feelings towards her.

Raising her chin, she firmed her mouth and returned his stare in silence.

Gael’s mouth twisted with mocking bitterness. Leaning down, he traced a forefinger from her clavicle to her cleavage. ‘That’s how it is to be, hmm? Well...good luck, cara,’ he murmured in a soft, deadly voice.

Then, turning on his heel, he walked away from her.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

FOR THE NEXT four days they remained locked in silent, seething battle. But they made almost comical efforts to be civil to one another in front of her mother, Patience and the staff. And Gael was an exceptional host on the occasions when they took her mother to a private gallery viewing in Barcelona and then to an open park showing of Tosca, both of which her mother lapped up with almost childlike joy.

But the moment they were alone his charming smile and drawling banter evaporated. He barely glanced at her as he busied himself with his newspaper or whatever meal he was consuming. The moment he deemed it acceptable he left the room, either to pound relentless laps in the swimming pool or to lock himself in his study.

Goldie had no such escape. On long walks over the estate her mother was growing to love, she endured probing questions and concerned looks. The only upside of the effort it took to maintain a happy face was that she fell into bed exhausted at the end of the day, with her sleep only disturbed at the crack of dawn by relentless morning sickness.

The day before Gael’s brother’s wedding—the last day of her mother’s visit—she entered the dining room to find Gael pouring hot water into a fine bone china teacup. Adding two slices of lemon and a cube of sugar, he stirred it briefly before setting it down in front of her, along with a small plate of dry crackers.

‘Drink this. Teresa swears by it for morning sickness,’ he said gruffly.

Her surprised glance swung to his, but he was walking away to get himself an espresso. Expecting him to leave the room, since there was no one to entertain, she gulped at a hot mouthful when he sat down at the head of the table.

‘Am I to assume that we’re talking to each other now?’ she asked, after a few minutes had passed and she’d drunk half the sweetened hot water. She was aware that her tone was a touch waspish, but she’d been unable to stem the hurt of the past few days.

‘Talking has never been a problem for me. Arguing without purpose, on the other hand, bores me.’

Her breath shuddered out. ‘So you either want to hear only what suits you or silence?’

He tossed back his espresso and set the cup down with a heavy hand. ‘No, Goldie, the only subject I’m not prepared to argue about or compromise on is the subject of sex. And since that subject appears to be a ticking time bomb between us, I suggest you tread carefully.’

The cup trembled in her hand so she set it down. ‘I know your mind isn’t one-track like that—’

His harsh laugh fractured her words. ‘Do you? I’m a red-blooded male, Goldie. One with a healthy sexual appetite and stringent views on fidelity. You’re the woman who’s taken my name and my ring but is refusing to share my bed. Since I don’t intend to break my vows, I’m left with a huge, potentially insurmountable problem. So do you really think I’m overreacting?’ he grated at her.

Her blush was fierce and all-encompassing. But then so was the ache that wouldn’t budge from her heart. ‘Do you expect me to have sex with you when you’ve accused me of marrying you just so I’ll get my hands on your money?’

‘Come off it, Goldie. Sex was off the table even before you signed on the dotted line. You just decided to keep it to yourself. You were biding your time before you dropped your little bombshell.’

‘No, I wasn’t—because I wasn’t even thinking about it then. You left me in bed the first time we made love without a word. I woke up to a note that was tantamount to you telling me you’d made a mistake. And you think the natural progression from that, when we agreed to marry for the sake of our baby, automatically includes sex?’

A faint dull red tinged his cheekbones, but his expression remained rigid. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to be a virgin so, sí, I was a little...thrown. But I did return to you. Only you were asleep. I took the unselfish way of not waking you and chose to sleep in the spare bedroom. But my question still stands. You knew my views on fidelity before you married me, so what did you think was going to happen?’

‘I expected we would talk about it. We never got the chance to discuss it so neither of us knew where we stood.’

‘What about now? Where do we stand?’ he countered.

She shook her head. ‘Right now we stand with me wondering why on earth you’d want to sleep with a shameless gold-digger who would barter her child for fifty million dollars!’

He shrugged, his eyes feverishly raking her face. ‘The money means nothing to me, guapa,’ he drawled softly. ‘Having your body beneath mine again in bed would be worth more than twice that to me.’

‘I do not want to sleep with you for money!’

‘Too late—you have already signed the documents, remember?’