The Billionaire's Virgin Box Set

‘She’s English,’ Mateo said cheerfully, leaning back as the waiter removed their plates. ‘The English are always pale.’

‘I’m fine.’ Faith managed to smile, horribly aware of Raul’s disturbingly intent gaze. The truth was that she felt exhausted and she just didn’t understand the reason. Normally she was a very energetic person but at the moment she could have happily spent her life in bed. She just wanted to sleep and sleep.

It was probably just living with Raul, she concluded wryly. Too much sex. And she was worrying, of course, about where their relationship was going. Physically he was generous and demonstrative, but emotionally …

Reaching for her water, Faith took a sip. Emotionally he still locked everything away.

Julieta lifted her glass in a toast. ‘To Emperor Raul, whose land now stretches across most of Argentina.’

Raul lifted an eyebrow. ‘You’re toasting me with water when there’s champagne on offer?’

‘Ah.’ Julieta’s eyes sparkled. ‘We have news too, don’t we Mateo?’

Mateo’s expression softened. ‘Julieta is pregnant. We found out yesterday.’

Faith felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room. The noise and buzz of conversation around her faded to nothing and there was a rhythmic pounding in her ears.

For a moment she was enveloped in a blanket of panic and then she struggled free and realised that they were all looking at her expectantly, waiting for her to speak. ‘That’s fantastic,’ she managed, genuinely pleased for Julieta and horrified by the vicious stab of jealousy that tore through her insides. ‘We’re so pleased for you, aren’t we, Raul?’ She answered for him because she didn’t want him to say something tactless but deep down she wondered how he felt.

Of course, he wouldn’t be as affected as she was, would he?

He didn’t want children. She knew that. What she didn’t know was why. And she wasn’t likely ever to understand that because he didn’t talk to her.

Faith struggled against the sudden surge of desolation that threatened to swamp her.

She wasn’t going to think about her own situation. Not here. Not now in this public place in front of the man she loved and his friends.

But a thick, dangerous sludge of misery had been stirred inside her and refused to settle down.

She couldn’t stop thinking about her own baby. The baby she’d lost.

An incredible sadness oozed through her and the lightness inside her faded away leaving only exhaustion.

In contrast, Julieta’s face glowed with health and her eyes sparkled with excitement as she told them about her plans. Every now and then she touched Mateo’s hand as if she couldn’t quite believe that this was her life.

‘It will be your turn next, Raul. Given that you’ve overcome your phobia of marriage, children are a logical next step.’

Worried that Raul might be upset, Faith intervened swiftly. ‘It’s too soon for that,’ she said in a bright voice. ‘I’m still hoping to pursue my career and we’ve barely spent any time together since we married.’

Trying to switch off her emotions, Faith concentrated on smiling, hoping that she looked more convincing than she felt because suddenly she was terrified she was going to break down. Right here. In public. With everyone watching.

What was the matter with her?

Why was she so tearful?

Over the past few weeks, all she seemed to do was sleep and it was completely unlike her.

‘I’m delighted by your news, but you’ll have to excuse us because Faith is very tired.’ It was Raul who spoke and he rose to his feet in a decisive movement. ‘It’s time I took her home.’

For once Faith was relieved that he was so controlling and she shot the couple an apologetic smile. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever become used to your Argentine hours—dining at eleven o’clock would be considered really odd in London.’

Julieta chuckled. ‘That is a perfectly reasonable time in Buenos Aires. Are you seriously driving home? I thought you billionaires used a helicopter or a chauffeur.’

‘I’m not good at being driven.’ Raul strolled round the table, gently eased Faith to her feet and slid his arm round her waist. ‘Great evening. We must do it again soon.’

Impossibly grateful that he’d rescued her, Faith allowed him to guide her from the restaurant and into the low, sexy Ferrari that waited for them outside the door.

Determined not to cry, she slid into the passenger seat and closed her eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered and heard the engine give a throaty roar as he pulled into the Buenos Aires traffic.