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wife of a successful, rich, handsome man wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Charley should know. It had broken her in the end.

      Even so, there was no hiding away from the knowledge that for the past two years she’d been empty inside, as if a big hollow had opened up in her belly. She hadn’t so much as looked at another man.

      Raul called out to her from the living area.

      She found him pouring a bottle of red into two glasses. He handed one to her.

      ‘To us,’ he said, raising his glass.

      ‘To the new centre,’ she corrected, chinking her glass against his.

      ‘You can’t have one without the other.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘I have given you what you want. Now it is time for you to fulfil your end of the bargain.’

      It didn’t take Einstein to know what he meant, or a mind-reader to read his thoughts.

      He took a sip of wine, his full lips pressing together as he swallowed, his blue eyes holding hers in the way that had always made her melt.

      She did the same now, a rush of heat pooling low in her belly and spreading out to her limbs.

      Her mind ran amok as she took a steadying sip of her own wine, remembering all the nights they’d come together, devouring each other, loving each other...

       Don’t go there, Charley. He never loved you, only loved who he wanted you to be. You were never good enough for him as you were. You’re worth even less now, nothing more than a warm body for him to use to sate himself whenever and wherever the mood strikes.

      She was good for only one thing. He’d spelled that out loud and clear. And now he wanted his payment.

      It was the reminder she needed.

      The reality of making love—no, having sex—with him for the first time in such a manner had the effect of making her libido nosedive to her toes.

      Whatever wrongs he might believe she’d done to him, she deserved more than to be taken at his command and only for his pleasure. Whatever gratitude she might feel for him saving the centre plummeted with her libido. The financial cost to Raul was so tiny in comparison to his wealth it would be akin to a normal person buying a bottle of wine.

      She cleared her throat, determined to stall the moment for as long as she could. ‘I would like to take a look at the deeds.’

      The strangest expression came into his eyes. ‘As you wish.’

      He stepped over to his briefcase, which he’d placed on the bureau, and unlocked it. About to open it, he was distracted by his phone vibrating. He grimaced and shrugged before pulling it out of his pocket, looking at the screen, and deciding whoever was on the other end was worthy of his attention.

      He left the living room and disappeared, she assumed to his study.

      Relieved for a few more minutes’ grace, she pulled her own phone out of her bag and answered the dozens of messages that had come through from overjoyed staff and the children’s parents alike, all of whom had been waiting on tenterhooks like her.

      Done, she stared at Raul’s briefcase, which was still where he’d left it, unlocked.

      Unable to wait a moment longer, she opened it and pulled out a hefty brown envelope lying on the top. She had a quick peek to make sure it was the deeds and not another business-related document that was none of her concern.

      A fresh wave of excitement swept through her when she saw the address of the new centre in the middle of the cover page. She pulled the thick sheath of papers out of the envelope and rifled through them, her mind awhirl with all the plans she had for the centre, plans that would now become a reality.

      Her grasp of Spanish had increased greatly in the past two years but legalese was a whole new ballpark. All the same, she persevered, right through to the last page. By then she’d finished her wine and was ready for another glass, but, rather than pour herself one, she stared at the pages with a frown.

      Something bugged her. She couldn’t think what it could be but her intuition told her something was off.

      She started scanning the pages again, fiddling with a lock of hair as she forced herself to concentrate...

      The bastard!

      Now she knew what was wrong.

      Sucking on her little finger, she skimmed through all the papers one more time looking in vain for her name.

      In a maelstrom of anger and indignation, she stormed to his office and shoved the door open.

      Raul was sitting at his desk, phone in one hand, a pen twirling between the fingers of his other.

      ‘You lying, manipulative...’ she said, throwing the deeds onto his desk.

      He stilled for a moment, then spoke quietly into the phone and disconnected the call.

      ‘Has something upset you?’ he asked with steely calm.

      ‘These deeds are in your name.’

      ‘Yes,’ he agreed.

      ‘You said the building would be mine.’

      ‘No, I said the building would be in the Cazorla name and that is exactly what I have done.’

      ‘You know perfectly well I thought it was being put in my name. I was going to form a trust and hand it over to the centre!’

      He laughed. ‘Then it seems I made a wise decision to put it in my name. What do a bunch of childminders know about managing a project such as this?’

      ‘Don’t speak so...so derogatorily about them,’ she snarled, pulling the word out after having it trip over her tongue. She hadn’t even known what derogatory meant five years ago. ‘Besides, they weren’t going to manage the project, I was, and I know a lot more than you credit me for. I didn’t go into this lightly.’

      ‘Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t; it doesn’t change the fact that you couldn’t get the financing for it and for the very good reason that your track record in business is abysmal.’

      ‘You’re sick,’ she seethed. ‘You’ve done this deliberately, haven’t you?’

      He shrugged. ‘Does it matter? The end effect is the same—the building will be used for a new centre.’

      ‘But under your control.’

      ‘I am not a team player, cariño. I don’t deal with collaboration. You will get your centre but you will not have the opportunity to mess up the renovations.’

      ‘I am not going to mess this up!’ she shouted.

      He gave her a measured stare. ‘Control your temper. It is most unattractive.’

      ‘Do you think I care what you find attractive?’

      ‘You should, considering the project hasn’t even started yet.’

      She knew exactly what he meant. ‘Are you seriously serious? If I don’t toe the line then you’ll pull the plug?’

      ‘If necessary. But as I’ve said numerous times, if you fulfil your side of the bargain then I will fulfil mine.’

      ‘You lied to me.’

      ‘No. You made assumptions.’ He rose from his seat and rested his hand on the desk, leaning forward. ‘I made it very clear that I would be taking control. I will be in charge and you will be by my side. Look at it from a positive perspective—this time you’ll see how a project is conducted properly all the way to its conclusion.’

      The anger inside her had risen so high it threatened to choke her. The worst of it was that she knew he was right. She had made assumptions.

      But, damn him, he’d let her.

      She’d

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