Surrender to Her Spanish Husband Read online

  The force of her yearning made her want to weep. But she was wasting her time, dwelling on such futile things. Better that she remembered that her handsome ex-husband was just a visiting guest in the house, staying for one night only because circumstances dictated it…not because he’d intended them to meet and be alone together.

  As soon as Lily had asked her to stand in for her for three months Jenny had vowed she’d be utterly professional and considerate at all times, and that was how she meant to proceed for the remainder of the time Rodrigo was there. She would treat him just like any other guest. She could manage that for twenty-four hours, couldn’t she?

  Her head swam for a moment.

  ‘I’m going to check the house, then go to bed,’ she announced, rising to her feet.

  ‘Why do I get the distinct feeling that you’re running away?’ Rodrigo asked lazily.

  ‘I’m not running away! If anyone knows how to do that it’s you, not me.’

  ‘You sound as though you’ve missed me, querida. Could that be the truth behind this petulant temper of yours?’

  ‘I’m not petulant. And I haven’t missed you. I’m merely getting on with my life without you and relieved that I’m not sitting up late every night waiting for a phone call to tell me you’ll be home late or have to fly off somewhere for two weeks without me.’

  ‘Then I’ve done you a favour.’

  ‘If the idea helps you to believe what you did was right, then go ahead and think that. At any rate, I’m too tired to stand here and argue with you about it. By the way, what time do you want breakfast in the morning?’

  ‘I’m an early riser, as you know. Seven-thirty okay with you?’

  Jenny briefly met his mocking glance and forced herself not to react to it.

  ‘Seven-thirty’s fine.’

  ‘Then I’ll bid you goodnight, Jenny,’ he said, taking her hint that the evening was at a close and he was most certainly going to bed alone. ‘Sleep well. I hope the storm doesn’t disturb you too much.’

  ‘Goodnight,’ she muttered, determinedly heading for the door.

  The storm contributed to a practically sleepless night for Rodrigo. Yet he couldn’t blame the turbulent display of thunder and lightning for his wakefulness entirely. The truth was he was tortured by how callously he’d ended his marriage, even though he’d genuinely believed at the time that he was doing it for the right reasons. For two years he’d held his disturbing feelings at bay, but now, being with Jenny again, they were uncomfortably surfacing.

  Her words about sitting up late every night waiting for a call to say he was coming home or flying off somewhere played over and over in his mind, driving him almost to madness. Several times he got up and walked the floor, wondering if she too was awake, like him, remembering that painful final scene between them when Rodrigo had sounded the death knell on their marriage.

  At some point during the early hours, with no lessening of the fury of the storm, he crawled back into bed. A splitting headache knifing through his head, he determinedly closed his eyes, willing sleep to free him from the disturbing litany of guilt-ridden thoughts that plagued him.

  When Rodrigo didn’t show for breakfast at seven-thirty, Jenny put the generous plate of bacon and eggs she’d cooked in the oven, to keep them warm, then made a second fresh pot of coffee. Grimacing at the arc of furious lightning splintering overhead in the distance as she glanced out of the window, she shivered, pulling the edges of her cardigan closer over her chest to keep warm.

  What was keeping Rodrigo? He was, as he’d said, an early riser.

  As she continued to stare out the window through the driving rain at the reluctant dawn appearing on the horizon, she wondered if he could risk travelling anywhere in weather like this. A horrible vision of the tyres of his car skidding uncontrollably in the wet, causing the vehicle to crash violently into a tree and injure him, insinuated its way into her mind and wouldn’t go away. Before she’d realised her intentions Jenny found herself apprehensively making her way upstairs. Gingerly, she knocked on Rodrigo’s door.

  ‘Rodrigo?’ she called. ‘Are you up yet? It’s almost a quarter to eight.’

  No reply. Again she rapped her knuckles against the door, her heart thudding hard under her ribs.

  ‘Rodrigo, are you all right?’

  From inside the room came a sound like a heavy book crashing to the floor. It was followed by some indecipherable low-voiced muttering. The door swung open before she had the chance to step back and Rodrigo stood there, rubbing at his eyes, his black hair more unruly than she’d ever seen it, his body encased in nothing but navy-blue silk pyjama bottoms clinging sexily low round his arrow-straight hips. The provocative sight made Jenny’s mouth go dry.

  Quickly pulling herself together, she folded her arms over her chest. ‘Overslept, did you? That must be a first.’

  ‘Who the hell could sleep with that din going on all night?’ he retorted irritably, ‘It sounded like a bombing raid!’

  ‘It’s just as wild this morning,’ Jenny replied, serious-voiced, ‘I don’t think you should attempt to drive anywhere for a while yet…at least until things calm down.’

  ‘Scared I might get swept off the road and end up in a ditch somewhere, querida?’

  ‘That’s not funny. I know male pride might convince you that you’re invincible, but you’d be crazy not to listen to what I say. I’ve been here nearly three months now, and even in the summer the weather can get pretty scary.’

  ‘Well, I’m neither crazy nor ignorant, and I thank you for your concern. Perhaps I’ll put my meeting off for one more day and go tomorrow instead.’

  Feeling a little stunned that he would even consider such an option, Jenny widened her blue eyes. ‘Anyway…’ she started to retreat ‘…your breakfast’s keeping warm in the oven and I’ve made a fresh pot of coffee because the first one went cold. I’ve been up since six-thirty myself. Maybe some hot food and something to drink will revive you after your sleepless night?’

  Rodrigo’s suddenly amused gaze swept disturbingly up and down Jenny’s figure. ‘Maybe it will. Or maybe the fact that you look so wide awake and beautiful this morning will revive me even more? But that coffee sounds good too. Give me a few minutes and I’ll come downstairs and join you.’

  ‘Okay.’

  Even though he’d ostensibly taken the day off, to Jenny’s utmost surprise Rodrigo insisted on making himself useful, and she couldn’t find it in her heart to refuse his help. At least if he was undertaking a couple of necessary DIY jobs around the house they wouldn’t be at loggerheads, she reasoned. But it was disconcerting to see how impressively practical and handy he was.

  Who would guess he was one of the wealthiest hoteliers in the world, much more at home in Armani tailoring and working behind a king-sized desk than getting his hands dirty in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, as he rolled up rain-damaged linoleum in the utility room and repaired some no longer properly functioning blinds in a bedroom?

  The rain was still thundering against the roof when Jenny called to him upstairs to come and eat lunch. Was this relentlessly stormy weather never going to end?

  Rodrigo witnessed her shiver as he came through the door into the kitchen. Immediately he frowned. ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘I’m fine. Somebody just walked over my grave, that’s all.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ He was studying her with alarm.

  ‘It’s just an expression.’ She smiled awkwardly. ‘Nothing to worry about. Sit down—you must be starving. It’s only chilli con carne on a baked potato, but it’s hot and nourishing.’

  ‘Trust me…it’s very welcome’

  ‘I never realised you had such talent for DIY.’

  ‘I spent a lot of time with my uncle when I was young. He was a carpenter. He taught me that there is honour in a man being able to put his hands to work.’ He pulled out a chair at the table and sat down.

  ‘But your father wanted you to go into business?’ Jenny remembered
.

  ‘Sí he did.’

  ‘And you never yearned to be a carpenter instead?’

  A forkful of food on its way to his lips, Rodrigo paused to answer her. ‘Maybe I did for a while…But then I got more realistic—in terms of earning a living, at least.’

  Sitting down opposite him, Jenny made a start on her own meal. Every now and then her gaze flicked to the tight bronzed biceps displayed by his T-shirt and her stomach rolled over.

  They ate in an oddly companionable silence for a while, until he glanced across at her and asked, ‘Do you miss your brother since he moved to Scotland?’

  ‘No, I don’t. You remember how difficult he could be sometimes? Well, things got worse when I returned to the house. He felt I should just sign it over to him completely…give him everything. He was badly in debt because of one thing and another and he blamed me.’

  ‘That sounds about right—but why did he blame you?’

  ‘Because I’d looked out for him ever since our parents died and he was jealous that I was getting on well with my career and he couldn’t seem to stick at anything for long without getting into trouble. Anyway…in the end I bought him out and he moved to Scotland to live with some besotted girl he met.’

  ‘You haven’t heard from him?’

  ‘No.’ She didn’t particularly want to hear from him either. Truth to tell, she needed more time to get over the hell he’d put her through.

  His disturbing dark eyes roaming her face, Rodrigo put down his fork and stopped eating. ‘You could have bought a place of your own with the settlement I made you. Then you could have just let him have the house and forgotten about him.’

  Her heart racing, Jenny stared. ‘I didn’t want to touch a penny of that money. In fact now that we’ve met up again you must take it back. Do you think you’re the only one who has any pride? I didn’t want anything of yours after you heartlessly told me our marriage was finished. Don’t you understand that? I told that solicitor of yours when he rang me about the settlement. If you wanted to cut the ties between us then we should have cut them completely! I want to make my own way in the world—just like I did before I met you.’

  Could she make it any more clear how little she wanted to do with him? Each word flayed him.

  Taking a long draught of the water she had poured him, Rodrigo returned the glass to the table, wiped his napkin over his lips and got up, before quietly saying. ‘I should get back to what I was doing. There’s still quite a bit to do. Thanks for the meal.’

  She ached to say something to make him linger, but sheer hurt at the fact they were no longer together overwhelmed Jenny and she sat in silence as he walked across the floor and went out.

  That evening, as they sat across the table from each other finishing their evening meal, Jenny began to realise how unwell she was feeling. Not just a tad on the warm side either. Her skin was fever-hot.

  Resisting the urge to touch her hand to her head to gauge her temperature, she tugged the sides of the dressing gown she’d donned after her bath more securely over her chest. ‘If this rain continues to fall we’ll have to build an ark.’ She smiled. ‘Your carpentry skills will certainly come in handy.’

  The timbre of her own voice took her aback. It sounded as if she regularly smoked cigarettes and downed whisky. Damn! She hoped she wasn’t developing a cold. That was the last thing she needed when she was in a position of responsibility while her friend was away.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Rodrigo enquired, black eyes sweeping what she now knew must be her fever-bright reflection.

  ‘I’m sorry…’ Jenny mumbled. The drugging fatigue that washed over her was making her suddenly long for her bed. She pushed to her feet. ‘I’m afraid I’m not feeling too good all of a sudden. I’ll have to go to bed. Take your time finishing your food. There’s no hurry. I mean of course it’s up to you when you want to call it a day, it’s just that…well…can I ask you a favour?’

  ‘Ask away.’ His dark gaze continuing to mirror concern, Rodrigo also stood up.

  ‘Do you think you could turn off the lights for me and make sure that Cozette is in her basket before you go up to your room? She’s probably hiding somewhere again because of the storm. The thunder and lightning really spook her.’

  ‘I’ll do everything you ask, but will you be okay? Studying you now, I can see that you look quite feverish. Shall I call a doctor?’

  ‘Heavens, no. I’m just getting a bit of a cold after being in and out of the rain, that’s all. I’m sure it won’t hang around long.’ But all the same Jenny put her hand up to her head. Her fingers almost sizzled at the burning heat that emanated from her skin. ‘I’ll—I’ll get a good night’s sleep and I’m sure I’ll be feeling back to my normal self in the morning. What time do you think you’d like your breakfast?’

  ‘Any time that you—Jenny? Are you sure you are all right?’

  ‘I’m fine. I just need to—’ To accompany her skyhigh temperature, a wave of sickness arose inside her stomach. Her sight was going worryingly hazy, and Jenny sensed the strength in her legs frighteningly desert her. In the next surreal moment her knees crumpled like paper and the warm bricked floor rushed towards her.

  The last thing she remembered before she blacked out was Rodrigo catching her as she fell. His arms were strong as iron bars as he swept her up close to his chest. There was a faint scent of some arrestingly exotic cologne on the air just before darkness closed in on her and she surrendered to unconsciousness with impunity…

  Having found Jenny’s bedroom by glimpsing some feminine clothing thrown over a chair beside a bed through a slightly ajar door on the same landing as his, Rodrigo kicked the door further open and carried her limp body across to it.

  Bending a little to yank down the freshly laundered covers, he carefully lowered his charge onto smoothly ironed white sheets. As soon as he had done so she turned onto her side, clearly shivering despite the warm woollen dressing gown she wore. His heart all but missed a beat at the sound of her softly ragged breath.

  Muttering a soft, ‘Gracias a Dios,’ that she had regained consciousness, he drew the embroidered covers carefully over her shoulders, then sat on the edge of the bed to touch the flat of his hand against her forehead. ‘Maldita sea!’ She was burning fiercer than the hotplate on the stove downstairs. It did not bode well. He had to act fast to help bring that temperature down, but first he had to find the telephone number for an emergency doctor.

  After murmuring some consoling words in Jenny’s ear, Rodrigo leapt to his feet and ran downstairs. The telephone was on the small chestnut bureau in the hallway. Picking up the receiver, he rifled through an alphabetised leather-bound address book, managing to quickly locate the number of her friend’s GP. Greeted by an answer-machine message that gave him a number for emergencies only, he hissed out his frustration. Seconds later he spoke to a weary sounding male voice in person.

  Explaining the reason for his call, Rodrigo was taken aback when the doctor swiftly pronounced that he couldn’t possibly come out to Raven Cottage on a ‘filthy night such as this’. He already had several patients to visit in the local vicinity, and unless it was a case of life or death Rodrigo would just have to take the medical advice he was about to dispense and look after Ms Renfrew himself. If her temperature did not go down within the next twenty-four hours then he should by all means ring again.

  Accustomed to only having to snap his fingers and get what he needed, Rodrigo was appalled at the doctor’s seemingly cavalier attitude. Wrestling the strongest urge to call the man an uncaring imbecile, he corralled his temper and quickly scribbled down the ensuing medical instructions. In any case, he had already made up his mind to ring his own personal physician in Barcelona for help should the advice he’d been given take too long to effect a change.

  Back upstairs in Jenny’s bedroom, he touched his hand to her forehead again. Her skin still felt hotter than a radiator with the dial turned to maximum. As if to echo the fear that bolted through
him, a deafening explosion of thunder burst violently overhead. Refusing to believe that her condition would worsen, Rodrigo urgently tugged down the quilt that covered her. The warm woollen dressing gown would have to go too.

  Half lifting Jenny’s limp slender form towards him, he tried to be as quick and as deft as he could. But his heartbeat accelerated as he observed her unnaturally rose-tinted cheeks and fluttering lashes, her body jerking now and then as if in acute pain. Out of the blue a partially remembered Spanish lullaby came to him. Softly, beneath his breath, he began to sing. ‘Duerme, niña Chiquita sleep my little babe Duerme, mi alma sleep my precious soul.’

  Lifting his hand, he smoothed some delicate golden tendrils back from the pale fevered brow before him. Then, with the dressing-gown cast aside, he gently lowered Jenny back down into the bed. The nightdress she wore underneath was a sleeveless cotton affair in white, with a chain of tiny pink rosebuds dancing across the demure round-necked bodice. In the innocent gown she looked like some fairy tale princess waiting to be woken from a dream with a kiss from a handsome enraptured hero.

  Grimacing ruefully, Rodrigo levered himself to his feet. First the lullaby he had not heard since his grandmother had crooned it to him as a child, then an observation that was too whimsical for words! Ever since he had stepped over the threshold of Raven Cottage he’d been feeling as if he was under some kind of enchantment. But there was no time to waste reflecting on the strangeness of his reactions. Not when he had to urgently bring down that temperature.

  Hurriedly seeking out the adjoining bathroom, he filled a decorative ceramic bowl with tepid water, grabbed a washcloth off the towel-rail and returned to his patient’s bedside. Steeping the washcloth in the water, he carefully squeezed it out again. Pressing it against Jenny’s forehead, then at the sides of her neck, he murmured, ‘You will be better very soon sweetheart…I promise.’

  Where did he get such confidence in his healing powers? he wondered. Especially when the tight little knot of anxiety that had taken up residence inside his chest had to be a far truer indication of how he was feeling.