although she hated to admit it maybe he had a point?
She suddenly felt desperately tired. A legacy of the flu, she supposed. Tears filled her eyes, and she blinked frantically to dispel them. Dealing with Ramon was emotionally draining at the best of times, and they still had to discuss arrangements for sharing custody of their son.
‘I have only ever wanted to do the right thing for Matty,’ she told him thickly.
Ramon moved closer to the bed, and stared down at her with a hard gleam in his eyes that filled Lauren with a sudden sense of foreboding. ‘In that case,’ he said coolly, ‘I assume you have no objection to marrying me?’
‘I assume you’re joking?’ Lauren retorted after a lengthy stunned silence. Anger gripped her. ‘You don’t want to marry me, so don’t try to pretend you do. I didn’t even make it to girlfriend status when we were together. You only ever saw me as your mistress, and the fact that I have given birth to your child is not a good enough reason to tie us down in a relationship neither of us wants. We can both be involved in Matty’s upbringing without some farcical marriage,’ she insisted desperately when Ramon said nothing and simply surveyed her with his dark, unfathomable gaze.
‘How?’ he demanded bluntly.
‘Well…’ Lauren struggled to envisage how it would actually be possible for them both to care for Mateo when they lived in different countries. ‘Maybe you could buy a house in England and he could stay with you when you visit,’ she suggested, instantly disliking the idea that she might have to spend days, even weeks apart from Matty while he was with his father.
‘I have already made it clear that Mateo will live permanently at the Castillo del Toro.’
‘But it would be difficult for me to move to Spain and find a job. I speak Spanish reasonably well, but I am not familiar with the legal system over here. I would probably have to study for a Spanish law degree.’
Ramon shrugged, indicating his indifference to her concerns about her career. ‘As my wife you will not need to work. I will provide you with everything you could possibly need.’
‘I don’t want you to keep me,’ Lauren argued, panic surging up inside her. ‘I’ve worked hard to have a good career, and I value my independence.’ The idea of being reliant on Ramon for money and a home filled her with horror. She had first-hand experience of how those things could be snatched away.
He stared at her speculatively. ‘What do you value most, Lauren? Your independence, or your son? Because you cannot have both,’ he told her, in an implacable tone that made her heart plummet.
‘This is ridiculous,’ she said shakily, her hand trembling as she pushed her hair back from her face. ‘You can’t want to marry me. I’m not a blue-blooded Spanish woman, and I wouldn’t know how to be a duquesa.’
‘It’s true you are not an ideal choice,’ Ramon told her with brutal frankness. ‘But you are the mother of my son, and for his sake I have a duty to marry you so that he can grow up in the care of both his parents.’
Lauren felt as though prison bars were closing around her, trapping her. In desperation she tried another approach. ‘You must see that it would never work. For a start, how would you feel to be married to a woman you don’t love?’
‘Love was never on my agenda,’ he said dismissively. ‘I do not consider it a prerequisite for a successful marriage. We both want to be with our son while he grows up, and I believe we are adult enough to be able to work things out. We were friends once,’ he reminded her. ‘And we proved on the night of the Valentine’s Ball that we are still sexually compatible—wouldn’t you agree, querida?’ he demanded, his voice suddenly so toe-curlingly sexy that Lauren felt a tightening sensation deep in her pelvis.
She snatched a breath when he dropped down onto the edge of the bed and slowly ran his finger down the valley between her breasts. She was instantly agonisingly aware of him—of the distinctive scent of the cologne he always wore, the way his black hair gleamed like silk in the sunlight, and the sensual curve of his mouth that was so tan-talisingly close to her own.
Pride belatedly came to her rescue, and she angrily pushed his hand away. ‘That night was a mistake, and I regret that it ever happened,’ she said shakily.
‘Really?’ he drawled sardonically.
Following his gaze, Lauren saw that her nipples were jutting provocatively against the sheer silk nightdress. Blushing furiously, she yanked the sheet up to her neck. She still felt horribly weak from her illness, and she wouldn’t be surprised if Ramon had been relying on that to bulldoze her into doing what he wanted. But she wasn’t an immature girl, in awe of him, she was a confident career woman and it was vital she took control of the situation.
‘I won’t allow you to intimidate me,’ she told him fiercely, ‘and I am certainly not going to marry you.’
‘Then I hope you are prepared for a custody battle.’
Taking her by surprise, Ramon stood up and strode across the room. He glanced back at her from the doorway.
‘And I hope you are prepared to lose—because I will never give up my son,’ he said grimly, leaving her staring after him, her heart pounding with fear.
After Ramon had gone Lauren leapt out of bed—and then had to steady herself for a few moments as her head swam. The weakness in her limbs was infuriating, and made her realise how unwell she must have been. She had to get Matty away from the castle, she thought frantically. It would be necessary to borrow some of the clothes Ramon had bought her, but she would return them to him the minute she got back to England.
The dresses hanging in the wardrobe were exquisite creations, from a top design house. Lauren made a quick search for her jeans and sweatshirt, feeling reluctant to wear any of the clothes Ramon had provided, but there was no sign of any of her belongings. At last she chose a simple wrap-dress in dove-grey silk, and kitten heel shoes in a matching shade. A drawer in the dresser revealed several sets of beautiful underwear. She had a weakness for pretty knickers and bras, and she slipped them on with guilty pleasure, assuring herself that she would send Ramon a cheque to cover their cost.
Her plan was to find Matty and then call a taxi to take them to the airport. She was sure Ramon would assume that she was resting in her room, and with luck she could escape from the castle before he realised she had gone. But when she stepped out into the long corridor she had no idea which way to go. To her relief, a maid appeared around a corner.
‘Where is Señor Velaquez?’ she asked the young woman, thankful that she spoke Spanish reasonably well. She had picked it up as a child, when her parents had taken her on holiday to Spain every summer, and she had opted to study Spanish rather than French at school.
She had a sudden flashback to her first dinner-date with Ramon, when she had surprised him by speaking to him in his own language. Sherry-brown eyes gleaming wickedly, he had proceeded to teach her several Spanish words and phrases that had definitely not been part of the school curriculum. The sexual chemistry between them had sizzled, and when he had suggested going back to his apartment for a drink she had willingly agreed, knowing that he would make love to her, and impatient to experience the passion his sensual smile promised.
They had shared so many good times during their affair, she thought, her heart aching as memories flooded her mind. It hadn’t just been the amazing sex; they had talked and laughed, visited art galleries, and walked for miles around the London
