Forbidden To Her Spanish Boss by Susan Stephens

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

ROSESURPRISEDHIMby springing up from the riverbank, saying she could do with a rest. His protective instinct kicked in right away. Pregnant women needed lots of rest, he’d heard, though Rose didn’t look tired, she looked determined. What was she planning now?

He took her back to the ranch at a steady pace, and saw her safely into the grooms’ accommodation with the instruction not to go anywhere near the horses. Mounting his stallion once again, he took a long, fast ride, only slowing when the sun began to dip behind the mountains. The doting uncle—a position he had happily espoused—was destined to become a father. His brother Dante hadn’t stopped talking about the wonderful transformation in his life since his wife, Jess, had a child. Could Raffa feel that way too? Did he have the capacity to show a child the love it deserved? And what about Rose? He’d held back from sweeping her into his arms when she’d told him the news because that might have led her to believe that he could be everything she needed when he still wasn’t sure himself. The most important thing now was to persuade Rose to change her mind about accepting his help.

Warp speed described Raffa’s reaction to Rose’s news. Before the end of the day, Rose had received calls from the secretary of a surgeon-gynaecologist to the royal household in London, as well as from a famous London college where nannies were considered the best in the world. A brief text from Raffa confirmed that he had asked these various individuals to get in touch with her, and that they would be liaising with him once they had spoken to Rose.

And so it begins.

Perhaps he was just being protective, Rose allowed as she waited for Raffa to pick up the phone. Remembering how defensive she’d been when it came to him buying the farm, the pub and the hall back home in Ireland, seeing everything Raffa did as an attempt to control her, she wanted this to be different. It was only natural for him to want the best for his child, and that included looking after the mother. Their baby was all Rose could think about, so she could hardly blame him for that.

‘Rose?’

Feeling calmer, she released her vice-like grip on the phone. ‘You sound distracted.’

‘I’m riding.’

Riding hard, Rose gathered. To get her out of his system? Or maybe to help him come to terms with the news of her pregnancy? ‘Can you stop—or rein in, at least? Don’t fall off on my account.’

A bark of laughter greeted that remark, followed by a few moments of noisy silence, during which she imagined him reining in and springing to the ground. She waited a beat or two, to give him the chance to get organised, before continuing. ‘I’ve been fielding a lot of phone calls from medical professionals and others.’

‘That’s down to me,’ he confirmed. ‘Making sure you have the best care.’

‘You know, I could have handled that myself.’

‘Let me get back, settle my horse, take a shower, then we’ll talk.’

‘I’d like that.’

‘We’ll meet in the yard. Say, half an hour?’ he suggested.

She frowned. ‘Won’t it be dark by then?’

‘Full moon tonight. Use plenty of bug spray.’

She wanted to laugh hysterically at his mundane remark, but mostly she fretted that he’d get back safely in the failing light.

There was no fretting when she saw Raffa in the yard...no anger or angst, either, just a wave of deep, overwhelming love. He looked amazing in nothing more than a pair of banged-up jeans and a top that sculpted his freshly showered body. There was a night-blue sweater slung over his shoulders, and his thick black hair was still damp and unruly, as if he hadn’t wasted a moment raking it into place before coming to meet her.

‘Warm enough?’ he asked.

Before she had a chance to answer, he swept the cashmere sweater from his shoulders and draped it around hers.

‘The people I asked to contact you come with cast-iron recommendations,’ he explained as they strolled in the moonlight in the direction of the distant pastures. ‘The recommendations come from my brother, and his wife, Jess. I wouldn’t have suggested these particular professionals otherwise.’

‘What’s wrong with my family doctor?’

‘He’s in Ireland.’

‘While the specialists you recommend are in London and Madrid?’ Rose guessed.

‘They’re not there now,’ Raffa told her with obvious satisfaction. ‘They’re on their way here as we speak.’

‘Don’t you think that’s a little high-handed?’

He looked puzzled. ‘They’re the best. They took care of my sister-in-law.’

‘And here was me thinking parents decide these things together,’ Rose said lightly, not wanting to sour the mood. ‘There are two of us involved in this,’ she reminded him.

‘I don’t know what more you want of me, Rose.’

‘I don’t want you to box off this pregnancy like one of your many projects,’ she explained. ‘I appreciate you taking the trouble to arrange things, but it would have been much better to discuss it with me first.’

‘I’ve done everything I could think of,’ he admitted with a frown. ‘I don’t understand why you’re upset.’

‘You’re micromanaging me within a few hours of learning I’m pregnant. How did you expect me to feel?’

‘That I care about you.’

His words hung in the silence between them. Was she at fault? Was Raffa showing her how much he cared and how keen he was to be a part of this? ‘So long as you’re not trying to control me.’

‘Control you?’ He huffed a laugh. ‘I stand as much chance of controlling you, Rose Kelly, as I would performing dressage on a wild stallion.’

‘But you’d break the horse in eventually...’

He gave this some thought. ‘I’d begin by winning his trust, and then I’d train him in the ways I prefer.’

‘Wow. Is that what I should expect?’

‘And when persuasion failed,’ Raffa continued as if he hadn’t heard her, ‘I’d be forced to think of something else.’

Rose stilled when she saw the look on his face. ‘You wouldn’t kiss him?’ she exclaimed.

‘Not like this,’ Raffa agreed as he took her in his arms.

What was she doing?

She belonged here.

Why was she kissing him back?

Because there was no other way.

This was hopeless. She was hopeless. How could she resist a man who made her feel as if she had everything to lose and gain in his arms?

Raffa raised a brow when they pulled back briefly. ‘But if you’d rather not?’

‘I’d rather,’ Rose exclaimed, happiness surging inside her. If there were a world of men to choose from, this was the only man she would choose to father her child. Her next and most vital task was to banish the shackles that tied him to the past.

Sex could be wild and fun, or it could be tender and intense. Either way was perfect with Raffa as her lover. His care of her on the riverbank brought tears to her eyes. Release was sweet, complete and draining. But had it changed anything between them? Rose wondered as they lay replete in the sweet-smelling grass. When it came to relieving tension, there was no greater cure than sex, but it didn’t always supply a solution.

They walked back to the ranch house together, side by side, but not touching, which led her to wonder, if she wanted things to change, why didn’t she do something about it?

They were approaching the grooms’ accommodation block when Raffa frowned and asked, ‘Why don’t you move in with me? It would be so much simpler.’

‘For you, or for me?’ she asked good-humouredly.

‘Everyone on the ranch respects you, and I’ve come up with the perfect solution to all your concerns.’

‘Of course you have,’ she teased lightly, loving Raffa for his rock-solid conviction that he was always right, even though it drove her crazy at times.

‘Marry me.’

‘What?’Rose’s mouth fell open. She couldn’t have heard him correctly.

‘Marry me,’ he repeated, as if that were the most obvious statement in the world. ‘You trust me. You trust me with your body. You’ve already admitted that you love me. It can’t be such a giant step to agreeing to marry me.’

‘Am I expected to take this seriously, or is it another of your jokes?’

‘No joke,’ he assured her. ‘When I think back to my sister’s wedding, all I remember is the most bewitching woman I’d ever met putting me firmly in my place. Now that same woman is carrying my baby, and I want to provide for that child—more than provide. I want to see it grow up. I want to teach it to ride, to read, to swim—it’s only logical to ask you to marry me.’

‘Logical?’ Rose interrupted stiffly.

‘I won’t ask anything of you,’ Raffa explained, as if this was what he thought she wanted. ‘I’m laying out the most sensible plan.’

‘Logical and sensible?’ Rose’s Celtic temper flared. ‘Why not add capable to that, while you’re at it?’

‘Marriage would solve all your problems,’ Raffa insisted, as if he had come up with the only possible way forward for them.

Bracing herself, she flashed an angry stare into his eyes. ‘I don’t have any problems. I’m expecting a baby. Oh, wait. I do have a problem—the baby’s father, who speaks every thought in his head without thinking about the hurt he causes.’

‘Hurt?’ Raffa was clearly taken aback. ‘Marriage to me is the perfect solution for you.’

‘Because I don’t have your means?’ Rose challenged. ‘I can find a good doctor all by myself, and I’m not afraid of hard work, remember. I was born practical.’

‘But you deserve to be loved.’

Everything crumbled inside her. He couldn’t have said anything worse. Yes, she deserved to be loved, but he wasn’t offering to love her, was he? He was offering a logical solution to her problem. Now she felt like a charity case, with the great Raffa Acosta offering her marriage as a convenient way out. ‘I deserve to love too,’ she fired back. ‘And I will be loved.’ As she spoke she instinctively cradled her stomach. Her baby would love her, and she would love it, fiercely.

‘You should be thinking about the baby, and what’s best for our child.’

‘I think about nothing else. I’ll provide for our child, and I’ll keep you informed—’

‘But I love you, Rose.’

She stopped dead. ‘What did you say?’

‘I love you,’ Raffa repeated, meeting her gaze. ‘I want to be part of your life. You’re the other half of me, the half that completes me. I love you,’ he said again. ‘My life is empty without you, Rose. If I don’t have you to share everything with, it means nothing to me. Wasn’t it you who said we’re the same? Well, you’re right. We’re both fighting a past that haunts us—not all at once, we stumble sometimes, and get things wrong, but each time we fall back, you and I, we get up again, and march forward.’

These were the words she’d longed to hear. ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ she breathed hopefully.

‘Never more so,’ Raffa assured her fiercely. ‘I love you with all my heart, and I’m begging you to be my wife. With you in my life, it will have meaning and love, and hope and dreams for our future. You won’t deny me that, will you?’

‘You are the most exasperating man,’ Rose replied lovingly.

‘And you’re the most impossible woman on the face of this earth. A good match, I’d say. So, stop asking yourself, can I trust this man? Can I trust what’s happening? Those doubts belong in the past. Look forward and know you can trust me, Rose.’

Rose didn’t even know why she was crying. This should be the happiest day of her life. When Raffa took her in his arms, he knew. ‘Did you ever cry for your mother, Rose? Are you thinking right now how much you wish you could tell her your news?’

Her chin shot up. ‘How do you know that?’

‘I know you. I’ve taken the time to get to know you, so I understand how well you’ve learned to hide your feelings, just like I knew, as you know about me, that one day those feelings would have to come out.’

‘It isn’t easy...’

He huffed a short laugh. ‘Don’t I know it? Dios, Rose, it’s such a gift to be able to tell you how much I love you.’

She exhaled shakily. ‘You’re right.’

‘Always,’ Raffa teased. ‘Your mother would be so proud of you,’ he added softly. ‘She’ll be singing at our wedding.’

That broke the dam. Rose cried, and not in a pretty way. Raffa had unlocked something inside her that she had been unable to do for herself. Longing for things she couldn’t have, like her mother’s comforting arms around her shoulders one last time—to hear that gentle voice advising her to be strong, almost as if her mother had known what lay ahead. While she sobbed, Raffa held her, and he waited until she was quiet before producing a familiar red bandana from the back pocket of his jeans.

‘Better now?’ he asked as he mopped her face.

‘You won’t be able to wear that again.’ It was a weak attempt at humour, but it was something.

‘I have plenty more,’ he reassured her.

Lifting her face to his, she confronted him with what she knew could only be bright, red-ringed eyes. ‘And you?’ she challenged softly. ‘Can you be as open and honest with me as I’ve been with you?’

Open and honest? Honour was everything to an Acosta, but he knew what Rose was getting at. Giving way to grief was never the easy option. It took strength to reveal sadness and regret as Rose had. Revealing more of himself had been impossible before Rose arrived in his life, because his task had always been to inspire confidence in others. His staff deserved the best of him, and the vast youth following that fame had brought him demanded nothing less.

‘You’ve been as bottled up as I have, but we’re both changing for the better, and we’ll change faster with a baby coming. If you can’t express your feelings, what use are they to anyone?’ Rose’s question pierced the armour he’d spent a lifetime building, but her next words stripped it clean away. ‘I love you completely and utterly, Raffa Acosta. I have since Sofia’s wedding when you came out with your outrageous suggestion that we go to bed. I believe you and I have something really special to offer a child, and that’s honesty when it comes to feelings and deeds.’

‘You’re always thinking about other people, Rose. It’s time you thought about yourself. I’ve been heavy-handed in the past, but all I care about is you and this baby. Forgive me?’

‘There’s nothing to forgive,’ she said with the warmth that made Rose so special. ‘You blame yourself as I do for things that happened in the past, but could we have done more for our parents? I doubt it. You were a youth, thrilled to be taking them to the airstrip. When that unspeakable tragedy unfolded in front of you, it was bound to leave its mark, but you weren’t in a position to instruct your parents what to do, any more than I could stop my father drinking. Hindsight is a great thing, but you can’t blame the young man you were, any more than I can be afraid of risking my heart, because I witnessed such a sad version of love at home. We’re different people now, you and I.’

‘I can’t let you be on your own tonight. You’re coming with me.’

‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked as he linked her arm through his.

‘To my bed. But not for sex,’ he added when she shot him one of her direct looks.

‘Not for sex?’ she repeated. ‘What do you plan instead? A bedtime story?’

The return to the humour they’d always shared was the greatest relief. Cupping Rose’s face in his hands, he asked her, ‘Do you remember what I said to you that night at the wedding?’

‘Every word,’ she assured him. ‘It isn’t every day I’m invited to have sex with a man just to relieve his boredom.’

‘Well, now I’m asking you to come to bed with me because I’m madly in love with you, Rose Kelly. I can’t live without you. I don’t want to try. Give me the chance to hold you in my arms and keep you safe.’

A smile started slowly on her mouth until finally it lit up Rose’s eyes. ‘And in the morning?’ she prompted.

He shrugged and smiled. ‘Tomorrow’s another day.’