Forbidden To Her Spanish Boss by Susan Stephens
CHAPTER TEN
THESKYWASdark when he left the farm. Being with Rose last night had only spurred on his plan. The past controlled Rose, as it had controlled him, and he was determined they would both move forward. Fate had always seemed his enemy before, but fate had brought him Rose. As Head Groom, she could travel with him, be with him, sleep with him too.
That might make a sad sort of sense, but he couldn’t see Rose in the role of convenient mistress. He’d seen her with the children on the ranch—playing with them, teaching them, spending time with them out of choice. Rose wanted more than to be any man’s plaything. And she deserved more too. Saving her father while shoehorning in a career was an impossible ask. Plus, she’d be a lousy mistress, he concluded with amusement as he jumped into the SUV. Weren’t mistresses supposed to be compliant? Good luck with that! Rose would have her say whatever the situation. His smile broadened at the thought.
Rain lashed the windscreen, throwing up plumes of mud behind the vehicle. The rotten weather matched his mood. Nothing was the same without Rose. She entertained him, touched him, moved him, as no one had. He had to find a way to make this work without promising more than he could offer. It would be far easier to walk away and keep his emotions safe under lock and key, as he always had, but Rose had already made that impossible.
A chord from his phone distracted him as he pulled up in front of the pub. Switching off the engine, he scanned the text.
Rose was offering her resignation? Not on his watch.
He texted back.
I don’t accept this. I offered you two weeks’ holiday leave to sort things out. Use them. R
Every detail of how Rose had tasted when he’d kissed her, and how eagerly she had pressed her body against his, crashed into his mind. Thundering his fist down on the wheel, he gave way to the force of his frustration in a roar. So much for keeping his emotions under lock and key! One thing was certain: Rose stayed in his life. She was too important for anything else. Okay, so the details were sketchy, but details could wait. He’d think about the pros and cons later. Kicking the engine into life, he wheeled the vehicle around to drive back to the farm.
After a successful call to Sofia, Rose hugged her phone close, knowing she should be thrilled at the chance for her father to recover drawing closer. And she would be thrilled, if overshadowing that hadn’t been the knowledge that Rose couldn’t have everything. Implementing her plan for animal therapy programmes, a plan she hoped would help her father find a renewed sense of purpose, would take longer than two weeks of holiday entitlement, which left her with no alternative but to resign from her post on Raffa’s ranch. The thought of breaking from him, disappointing him, was crushing. She’d do anything to avoid hurting him, but she had to be upfront about her decision so he could get on with appointing the next head groom.
When it came to writing a formal letter of resignation, which would have to follow the text, however long it took to arrive, she ended up scrapping three attempts. Tears spoiled the rest. Raffa meant everything to her. He’d been an exceptional boss. She’d learned so much from him. The chance to work with his top-class horses was a gift she would never be able to repay, but the faster she could get the animal therapy courses up and running at Sofia’s new retreat, the sooner she’d have something concrete to offer her father.
And Raffa?
Dreams should be confined to childhood where they could do no harm, Rose concluded as she bit down on her kiss-swollen lips.
‘Raffa!’ She jolted upright as the door flew open. Glorious and powerful, he was also absolutely steaming mad. Gathering her scattered wits, she stood to confront him. ‘Did you forget something?’
Ignoring the question, he held out his phone. ‘What is the meaning of this?’
‘So you’ve read my text.’
‘D’you think?’
Skirting around him, she closed the door he’d left open. When she turned back, he was facing the fire. She didn’t need to see his expression to read the tension in his back. How could she explain to a man as driven as Raffa Acosta that loyalty was as complex as love, and that Rose’s duty lay with her father because he couldn’t help himself?
He swung around abruptly. ‘Well? Would you care to explain your text?’
His unwavering stare held her in check for a moment, but she rallied fast. ‘It’s only fair to you and my colleagues to give someone else the chance to be Head Groom.’
‘What about your chance, Rose?’
‘I can look after myself.’
His expression darkened. ‘And is this what you really want?’
‘It’s not what I want,’ she tried to explain, ‘but it’s what’s possible.’
‘So, you’re determined to stay on in Ireland. And do what?’
‘Work for your sister.’
Raffa couldn’t have looked more shocked. ‘You’re going to work for Sofia?’
‘It’s the only answer,’ Rose insisted. ‘My father needs me. I must stay here. I have to earn money. How else can we live? Even if I have to stand alone on this, I’m rejecting your offer to buy the farm. I’ll find another way—talk my brothers around—’
‘Your father needs professional help,’ Raffa interrupted, ‘which will be more effective if he’s left to focus on his therapy for a while. I need you in Spain to fulfil the contract you signed—the contract I countersigned in good faith. Do you even have a plan going forward?’
‘Yes, of course I have a plan.’ She could only hope it wouldn’t shatter when she put it out there, as the warmth, trust and openness she’d shared with Raffa had. ‘I’m going to run animal therapy sessions at your sister’s retreats, beginning with the one in Ireland.’
‘Nice of you to discuss this with me first.’ Raffa’s sarcasm was more cutting than the coldness on his face. ‘Does our recent past mean nothing to you?’
‘Of course it does.’
The words were ripped from her soul, but Raffa remained unconvinced. ‘Is this you being stubborn?’ he demanded, frowning. ‘Because surely you can see that you stand to lose more than you gain.’
‘I’m not trying to gain anything,’ Rose attempted to explain. ‘I’m trying to help.’
‘You’re not getting back at me for my “buying spree” in the village, as Sofia puts it?’
‘I would never be so petty,’ she defended hotly.
Raffa exhaled slowly. ‘I need you, Rose,’ he admitted grimly. ‘My ranch needs you.’
‘You can easily find another head groom.’
‘Not like you. Your father and brothers don’t need you to oversee their every move. You’re finally free, Rose. Can’t you see that?’
‘I must see my father settled.’
‘Are you creating work for yourself? Or are you too frightened to come back to Spain?’
‘Frightened?’ Rose asked with surprise. ‘I apologise for firing off that text without proper thought, but I won’t change my mind. My father has this one chance, and, with your help and Sofia’s, I hope things will improve for him. Only then can I consider what I want to do.’
‘What do you want, Rose?’
She frowned as she thought about it. ‘The chance to be me, I suppose.’
‘You’ve got that chance now,’ Raffa said fiercely. ‘Why don’t you take it?’
Rose slowly shook her head. ‘I know I’ve hurt you, but I could never have predicted how quickly my father’s condition would descend into violence.’
‘Given your father’s volatility, you must have known from the start that accepting a position on my ranch held a degree of risk, but you took that job with all it entails. I don’t accept your resignation. You’re a courageous woman, Rose, but you still have to learn that it takes more courage to step forward than back.’
Raffa’s words echoed in Rose’s head long after he’d slammed the door behind him. Was she destined to spend the rest of her life frightened that love might leave as it had when her mother died? Raffa was so special, was the thought that he might live up to his formidable reputation and walk away holding her back? He was doing everything in his power to help her. Why was she ranging herself against him? Was he right in saying she was holding on to a cause that no longer needed her? If that was true, it could only be to avoid the risk of breaking her heart.
He hammered the gas all the way back to the pub. Rose was strong enough to make her own decisions. If they excluded him, so be it. No woman had ever put so many obstacles in his way, but easy was boring. He was always seeking new challenges, but he hadn’t expected one to come in the form of a woman who checked him every step of the way.
Springing down from the vehicle straight into a pothole of mud, he cursed in a variety of languages, but ended up laughing at yet another example of how Rose could distract him beyond reason. It made no sense to keep her close when she was determined to follow her own path, but what had common sense ever had to do with him and Rose? Each time he brought logic into play where Rose Kelly was concerned, logic let him down.
The silence was deafening. She’d heard nothing from Raffa in the week since their last encounter at the farm, but she’d thought about him night and day, wishing she’d left the door open instead of sending that text, and then compounding it by insisting she intended to follow her own path. Even the progress she’d made with drawing up plans for the animal therapy programmes couldn’t close the yawning gap left by a man with expressive black eyes and a will as strong as her own.
Was this love?
No, this was pig-headed stubbornness. That was what it was. So, suck it up, Rose. She was ready to fire the starting gun on recruiting staff and identifying animals for the Irish retreat—there were others who could do that, but Rose must oversee it.
Must she? Did she execute every job on the ranch, or were others quite capable of handling things on their own without her close supervision? Wasn’t the idea of a team just that—each part knew what it had to do and got on with it?
With a growl of frustration—who liked to hear the truth, especially when it came from herself?—Rose picked up the phone to confirm with the applicants she’d chosen that the status of the project was full steam ahead.
There was still the achingly hollow hole left by Raffa. If Rose had thought distance would soothe her where that was concerned, she was wrong. He might have ignored her letter of resignation, but the urge to share every tiny detail of the progress at the retreat with him was eating away at her. There were some things he did know. Raffa had visited her father, which had shocked Rose to the core. Facing up to the truth, that she was no longer the crucial element without which her family would crumble, left her feeling calmer, and ready to speak to Raffa. It was long past time to talk things through with him face to face.
‘He’s not here, love,’ Sylvia, the landlady at the pub, informed Rose. ‘I thought he would have let you know that he flew back to Spain this morning.’
‘Right. Yes.’ Having anticipated a rational discussion with Raffa, Rose was completely thrown. She puckered her brow as if recollecting. ‘I must have got the days mixed up.’
She trembled all the way home—from shock at Raffa’s leaving. There was nothing to be done about it, she told herself fiercely. Lifting her chin, she strode on.
There was a parcel waiting for her at the farmhouse. Rose’s heart turned over when she identified Raffa’s bold black script. Backing into the kitchen, tearing the package open as she went, she pulled out the note inside.
Thought you might need this. R
It was the notebook Rose had been keeping since the day she started work on Rancho Raffa Acosta. It was thoughtful of Raffa to send it on, but it felt like the first step in a long goodbye. She guessed it had been found on the jet and one of his people had sent it back to him. Rose was never careless with things like this, and had to accept that a world full of Raffa Acosta was a world full of distraction. Turning the notebook over in her hand, she imagined him thinking about her as he sent it on, maybe hoping she took it as a sign to move on.
That was what she wanted, wasn’t it?
Then why did she feel so bad?
A few days later another delivery arrived from Raffa. She didn’t open this one right away. Instead, she placed it on the kitchen table, where it sat like a silent visitor, waiting to be acknowledged. The packaging was neat, the handwriting unmistakeable. What was it this time? A scold’s bridle to stop Rose speaking her mind, or maybe a potion for removing mud from her clothes? She braced herself for hurt as she glanced at it. Still, it was thrilling to know Raffa was still thinking about her—in a purely professional sense, of course. He was noted for his concern for staff members.
Walking around the table, she trailed her fingertips over the packaging, imagining him holding it, lifting it, writing her name. Sitting down at the table, she finally reached out to grab it and rip off the paper. It was an academic book on the study of animals and their great value in helping those with addictions. What broke her was seeing the name on the spine. Having met the author on board the Pegasus, and admired his work, Raffa had given her the most precious gift possible. She hugged it close, as if that could transmit her gratitude. Then she read the message on the flyleaf.
Thought you might need this too. R
If this was Raffa’s blessing for Rose to go her own way, it was the most thoughtful goodbye she could think of. There was no reason to feel sad. So why was she crying? What good were tears when there was work to be done? Her first job was to thank Raffa for the gift. Finding paper and pen, she took a moment to think, then wrote.
Thank you for such a thoughtful gift. I will need this.
I need you too. She didn’t write that bit down.
Please tell the professor I’ll treasure every word.
Another pause followed and then she wrote more.
Until we meet again. R
She was effectively saying goodbye to her dream, a dream that had changed beyond all recognition when she became emotionally and physically involved with Raffa.
Had that dream changed? Was she incapable of compartmentalising work and romance? She didn’t exactly sit around daydreaming on hay bales, or waste time in bed, discussing the respective merits of various horse liniments.
Too much time had been spent worrying about planning and logistics, Rose concluded. Could she do this or that, while she was here or there? What about risking her heart for a change?