The Vasquez Baby

The doctor cleared his throat. ‘You have to admit that her memory seems cloudy where you’re concerned—’

‘I’ve discovered that Faith’s memory is most adap

table,’ Raul drawled. ‘Occasionally she can forget the most important facts. Like an agreement between two people.’ His words had the desired effect and he watched with grim satisfaction as the last of the colour drained from her cheeks.

‘There was no agreement. I am not one of your business deals. I wish I’d never met you. I hate you, Raul. You are a heartless, cynical, insensitive…’ Her voice tailed off and the doctor gave a small, embarrassed cough.

‘Well—it does appear that she at least knows your name so that’s good. And—er—a little bit about your personality. She told us that she had no family—’

‘I don’t have family.’

The doctor glanced at her and then at Raul. ‘I suppose—’ He coughed nervously. ‘Well, over to you, really.’

‘That’s it? Are you just going to stand there and let him bully you?’ Faith glared at the doctor and when the man didn’t reply she made a sound of disgust. ‘You’re all spineless. I’m telling you, he’s not my family. If I was the last woman left on the planet and he was the last man, then the human race would die.’ Having drawn the battle lines, she turned her head back to Raul and her eyes locked with his in fierce combat.

Raul felt a surge of relief because for a moment he’d wondered if her lack of spirit was something to do with the head injury. But the dangerous shimmer in her eyes reassured him that her accident hadn’t done any permanent damage and despite everything that had happened between them he felt the instantaneous response of his body.

Passion. Hot, searing, blinding passion.

It was always there between them, whatever they were doing.

And that was the problem of course. Their astonishing physical compatibility had made it all too easy to overlook the truth.

They were two people who should never have been together.

Both of them had known it, but the extraordinary chemistry had bound them together when common sense should have dragged them apart.

She was entirely wrong for him. He was entirely wrong for her.

Somehow that hadn’t made a difference.

Aware that the medical staff were rooted to the spot, staring, he rose to his feet and took charge.

‘She has family,’ he said in a driven tone. ‘I’m her husband. And I’ll take over from here.’ Detaching himself from the emotional, he concentrated instead on the practical, his mind shifting into problem-solving mode as he reached into his pocket for his mobile phone.

‘Oh, here we go,’ Faith muttered. ‘Let’s just make another million while we’re hanging around.’

Having accessed a number with a decisive stab of his finger, Raul turned with a mocking smile. ‘I wouldn’t bother switching the phone on for a million, cariño. You should know that by now.’

The doctor cast them both a despairing glance. ‘The two of you clearly have some problems.’

Rising to his feet, Raul dealt the other man a glance that would have silenced a football stadium in full voice. ‘Unless you’re adding psychiatry to your list of questionable medical skills, I suggest you don’t tread where you are bound to lose your footing. She is no longer your responsibility. I’ll be removing her from this place in the next ten minutes.’ Having delivered that missile directly to its target, Raul turned his attention to the man on the end of the phone and switched to his native Spanish.

By the time he’d ended the call, the nurse had retreated and the doctor was sifting through paperwork with shaking hands, clearly worrying about his own position.

‘If you’re taking her then you’ll have to sign something. I won’t be held responsible if anything happens to her. She needs to be in hospital—’

‘Maybe. But not this one.’ With one disdainful sweep of his eyes, Raul took in the state of the ward. ‘What exactly is this place and why hasn’t it been shut down before now?’

‘Shut down?’ The doctor looked scandalised. ‘This is the oldest hospital in London. We have been treating patients in this building since the time of King Henry the Eighth!’

‘It’s a shame no one has bothered to clean the floors since his last visit,’ Raul said coldly and the old lady in the bed opposite Faith clapped her hands in delight.

‘Oh, well said! I do so love a man who is dominant and handsome. These days most men have forgotten how to be real men. If she turns you down, I’m available.’

Amused, Raul turned and flashed her a smile. ‘Gracias, I will remember that.’ His response clearly goaded Faith because she gave a strangled laugh.

‘He’s the worst of a bad bunch. If you’re looking for a man who shoulders responsibility, then don’t look at this one, Mrs Hitchin.’