The Blackmailed Bride (13 page)

Kate's stomach muscles quivered at the reminder. ‘You're an extremely bossy man,' she remarked, staring indecisively at his outstretched hand.

A satisfied expression slid into Javier's eyes as her slim hand was placed cautiously within his, even if the manner of it getting there did remind him of a child daring to explore forbidden territory.

At the outset of this reckless enterprise all Javier had wanted was her co-operation; now gaining her trust seemed to occupy his thoughts almost as much as the attractions of her body did. He had to constantly remind himself that possessing that body would create all kinds of complications; his own body didn't always listen to these warnings.

‘But I have many redeeming qualities,' he assured her as he heaved her to her feet with a grunt.

Kate dusted down her dress and sent him a wry look from under her lashes. ‘I bet a female told you that.'

‘More than one actually.'

‘Smug, conceited, bossy
and
superstitious,' she observed with a superior expression.

‘Everyone is superstitious, to some extent, be it the foot-
baller with his lucky pair of socks or the banker who flicks salt over his shoulder,' Javier contended.

‘Not me.'

‘You sure about that?'

‘Absolutely,' she told him with an emphatic little tilt of her chin.

‘Prove it,' he challenged softly.

‘What…?'
Kate shook her head and laughed uneasily. ‘There's no way I can prove it.'

‘There is. Drink some water from the spring.'

‘I'm not thirsty.'

A dark brow lifted. ‘Like I said,' he drawled. ‘Everyone is superstitious.'

Kate gritted her teeth, unable to stomach his triumphal air a second longer. ‘If it's contaminated, I'll know who to blame,' she grumbled as she picked her way over the uneven ground. She extended her hand beneath the ice-cool drops and then, with a defiant glare in his direction, raised it to her mouth—the water was sweet and icy cold.

‘Well…?' she challenged him, wiping the excess moisture from her lips with the back of her hand.

His darkened glance dwelt on the full, moist outline; when he spoke his voice had a husky strained quality. ‘I'm impressed.'

Despite his immediate capitulation Kate was left with the uneasy feeling that somehow she'd done exactly what he wanted.

They were only a few feet away from the church, which Kate found was even prettier close to, when a stone bench built into the wall, which had previously been hidden from view by the overhanging lemon trees, came into sight.

A couple were sitting in the shade talking in quiet voices; their whole manner to one another made it clear they were not strangers. Kate felt a sudden unexpected stab of envy.

It was Kate's cry as her heel caught on a stray stone in the road that made both turn.

The woman immediately sprang to her feet, an expression of uncomplicated delight on her face; the man beside her with the dark-haired baby in his arms did so more sedately.

‘
Javier!
You're here…
finally!
' The petite figure cried as she rushed forward. ‘This is so exciting, I can't believe it! Marriage…!'

Beside her Kate felt Javier tense; she heard the sibilant hiss of his shocked intake of breath. Without stopping to analyse the impulse that drove her to do so, Kate caught his hand and squeezed hard.

Javier's head turned sharply he looked from Kate's concerned face, dominated by a pair of wide troubled eyes desperately trying to telegraph comfort, to their tightly clasped hands and back again. The restive glint slowly faded from his eyes and he smiled.

It was no ordinary smile. Kate caught her breath; every instinct told her this was one of those special moments. The sight of lemon trees, the scent of jasmine on a warm afternoon, would always hold a special meaning for her in future; they'd unlock this memory. She could almost hear the sound of something deep inside—maybe her reserve snapping?—as the warmth of his eyes caressed her before he turned to the other woman. There was no hint of any underlying trauma in his manner as he responded to her greeting.

‘Sarah!'

Now she had time to look properly, Kate was stunned to discover the love of Javier's life, far from being the supermodel material she'd expected, was a tiny creature with big blue eyes, a cute button nose complete with freckles and an extraordinarily sweet smile. She was extremely feminine, the sort of woman that brought out the chivalrous
instincts in men—they evidently had done in Javier. Kate, who had never in her life wanted to be protected by a man, experienced an irrational pang of envy.

‘This is Kate,' Javier said, drawing her forwards.

You had to hand it to him, Kate conceded as she smiled stiltedly. Nobody watching him operate would guess the proprietorial pride was not the genuine article—so long as
you
remember it isn't, Katie, the spoilsport voice of common sense in her head inserted wryly.

‘Kate, this is Sarah, and of course you already know Serge, and the little one is Raul.
Madre mia,
but he's grown since I saw him last,' he observed, reaching out to tentatively touch the head of the sleeping baby.

‘That's because you don't come and see us nearly often enough,' the baby's mother returned reproachfully. She turned to Kate. ‘Perhaps now you'll be able to make him come see us once in a while,' she appealed.

‘I'll do my best.' Well, she could hardly admit her influence was nil, because it was abundantly clear that this woman thought the marriage she was about to witness was for real.

‘Miss Anderson…' The swarthy-skinned man who had witnessed the worst indignities of her life nodded diffidently as their eyes met.

Kate felt an embarrassed tide of colour wash over her skin. Now here was someone who didn't, who
couldn't,
think the marriage was for real!

‘Kate,' she corrected stiltedly. ‘Very nice to see you again…' she lied fluently. ‘And quite a surprise,' she added, throwing Javier an acid look of reproach which the rat pretended not to see, but as Sarah was nestling affectionately up to him maybe he didn't, she thought, experiencing a nasty stab of something that felt scarily like jealousy.

Her smile was bright and ever so slightly desperate as she hurriedly turned her attention back to the thick-set fig
ure beside her. Though he didn't come right out and call her a liar, she could tell from his expression that Serge didn't believe in her delight at renewing their acquaintance.

Or maybe paranoia was setting in! The way today was going it seemed best to assume the worst.

She watched as he carefully adjusted the sunhat on the tiny head of the baby, who continued to cling limpet-like to his massive chest. She sighed. Forget flashy cars, and as far as she was concerned there were fewer sights more guaranteed to thaw a woman's heart than the sight of a big, brawny man with a tiny baby.

Javier could at least have warned her about who one of their witnesses was to be.

The embarrassment she could cope with if she had to, but being pitched headlong into the middle of a situation that had all the ingredients of a Greek tragedy was another matter!

Javier loved Serge's wife, but did Serge know…? Did Sarah know…if so, all that touchy feely stuff with Javier was a bit below the belt!

Talk about love triangles!

As she looked back to the previous occasions she'd seen the two men together, acting very much as a team, Kate couldn't recall witnessing any tension or underlying hostile currents between them. That of course didn't necessarily mean there was none…

‘What a lovely baby.' In her experience, admiring their offspring was always a good way to please parents, but in this case her observations were nothing but the truth; the sleeping child was quite beautiful.

‘Well, don't I rate a hug with you these days, big guy…?' she heard Sarah chide.

From the corner of her eye she was aware that an enthusiastic embrace was being exchanged. Worriedly she looked at Serge and saw he was already watching them; to
her relief he seemed to view the proceedings with an air of faint indulgence.

Indulgence wasn't the first emotion she experienced when she got her first proper look at the hug-fest. She was a big fan of spontaneity and definitely no prude, but to Kate's way of thinking this was way over the top!

For someone so fragile-looking, Sarah had managed to get a pretty firm grip around Javier's neck and was pressing some vigorous kisses to his lean cheeks and mouth. If she did know of Javier's feelings for her, Sarah's actions could only be termed callous and uncaring, Kate decided indignantly. She looked away as Javier placed the fairy-like figure back on the floor, troubled by her ambivalent reaction to the spectacle.

Seeing the sparkle of tears in the other woman's eyes. Kate found it impossible to hold on to her antipathy.

‘I didn't know if you'd have time so I picked these from our garden…I hope you don't mind…?' She thrust out a bunch of flowers tied together with a blue velvet ribbon and then a small package towards Kate.

‘Thank you!' Kate exclaimed feeling horribly guilty about her uncharitable thoughts towards this woman who exuded a wide-eyed sweet sincerity—not qualities she'd have imagined would have attracted Javier, but then men were strange, unpredictable creatures.

‘We're just so happy that Javier has found someone to make him happy.'

Kate felt increasingly uncomfortable as Serge produced a tissue for his tearful wife.

‘He's the sweetest man in the world, but then why am I telling you?' she sniffed emotionally. ‘You already know that…'

I know nothing!

Javier didn't respond to her flustered look of appeal in quite the way she'd anticipated.

‘Kate thinks I'm bossy and arrogant, don't you,
querida?
' he drawled.

Thanks for nothing, Javier! She allowed her resentful glare to linger pointedly on his incredibly handsome, mocking face. ‘Amongst other things.'

You'd have thought it was in his best interest to ensure I don't put my foot in it, but if that's the way he wants to play it, fine!

‘You've known him longer than me,' Kate appealed to the other woman. ‘Has he always fancied himself as an authority figure?'

Once Sarah recovered from the shock of hearing anyone speak to Javier so daringly, she let out an appreciative chuckle.

‘Kate's definitely got your number, Javier,' she told him.

His brilliant eyes flashed. ‘
Now
you're scaring me,' he asserted sardonically.

No, I'm not, Kate thought tearing her eyes free from the hypnotic glow of his, but she was scaring herself badly!

She had no legitimate reason to wonder what it would be like to play this part for real, to conjecture on what it might feel like to actually be the loved, cherished bride Sarah thought she was. Besides, being loved by a man like Javier would be a nightmare.

A girl would have a heck of job retaining any individual identity; he would be an overwhelming and demanding lover who would not be content to fit himself in around her busy career. It would be quite a dilemma for an independent career girl to find herself in love with a man like that…luckily for her, her contractual obligation stopped short of that requirement!

She congratulated herself on her impregnable heart and felt queasy.

‘Now, Kate, come and tell me everything,' Sarah suggested in a deeply alarming, cosy-girls-together sort of
voice as she tried to draw Kate slightly apart from the men folk—a manoeuvre which Kate resisted stubbornly. ‘Serge's been about as informative as a rock,' she continued, shooting her husband a look of affectionate exasperation. ‘So how long have you two actually known one another?'

‘Not long.'

Kate's evasive reply seemed to seemed to appeal to the other woman's deeply sentimental nature; her round kittenish eyes softened.

‘Time's not a factor when you meet the right person, is it?' she sighed soulfully. ‘Where are you going to live? Don't worry about the language thing, Kate… I couldn't speak Spanish when I came here, but I'm fluent now… aren't I, Serge?'

‘You are indeed,
querida,
' he agreed smoothly. ‘I hate to interrupt, but the padre will be waiting…'

‘All right, I can take a hint.'

‘Only when it's broad,' Kate was amazed to hear her sober-looking mate drily quip.

‘Very funny… So I talk a lot,' Sarah admitted. ‘But at least let her open the parcel. No, it's for you, not him,' Sarah insisted with a secretive smile when Kate went to hand the parcel to Javier ‘Open it now,' she coaxed.

Kate shrugged and handed Javier her sweet-smelling bouquet instead. If she hadn't been so distracted she'd have laughed at the sight of him standing there staring at the flowers as if they were about to bite him.

‘I can't accept this!' She gasped when a cobwebby lace mantilla was finally revealed; it was exquisite and clearly very old. Shaking her head she pushed it towards the other girl who held up her hands.

‘It's not really mine.' She glanced towards Javier. ‘I was just borrowing it. Javier let me use it on my wedding day. It was his mother's; you should wear it, Kate.'

‘I…' How to explain to a hopeless romantic who was clearly under the impression she was witnessing a love match, that she was the last person in the world Javier would want to see wearing a family heirloom?

Javier solved her dilemma by taking the lace veil from her hands. He tilted her chin up towards him and arranged the delicate folds carefully over her bright hair.

‘She looks so beautiful!' said Sarah. Her enthusiastic clapping stilled abruptly as she remembered the sleeping baby. An anxious look revealed he was still soundly sleeping.