Spanish Escape. Maisey Yates

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       CHAPTER NINE

      RAÚL HAD BEEN RIGHT.

      Estelle stood on the balcony of his luxurious apartment, looking out at the marina, on the morning of her wedding day, and was, as Raúl had predicted, utterly and completely overwhelmed.

      She had arrived in Marbella two days ago and had barely stopped for air since. Stepping into this vast apartment, she had fully glimpsed his wealth. Every room bar the movie screening room was angled to take in the stunning view of the Mediterranean, and every whim was catered for from Jacuzzi to sauna. There was a whole new wardrobe waiting for her too. The only thing lacking was that the kitchen cupboards and fridge were empty.

      ‘Call Sol’s if you don’t want to go out,’ Raúl had said. ‘They will bring whatever you want straight over.’

      The only vaguely familiar thing had been the photo of them both, taken at Donald’s wedding, beautifully framed and on a wall. But even that had been dealt with by Raúl. It had been manipulated so that her make-up was softer, her cleavage less revealing.

      It had been a sharp reminder that he thought her a tart.

      Raúl knew the woman he wanted to marry, and it wasn’t the woman he had met, so there had been trips to a beauty salon for hair treatments and make-up lessons.

      ‘I don’t need make-up lessons,’ Estelle had said.

      ‘Oh, baby, you do,’ had been his response. ‘Subtle is best.’

      Constantly she had to remind herself to be the woman he thought he had met. A woman who acted as if delighted by her new designer wardrobe, who didn’t mind at all when he told her to wear factor fifty-plus because he liked her pale skin.

      But it wasn’t that which concerned Estelle this morning as she looked out at the glittering sea and the luxurious yachts, wondering which one was Raúl’s.

      Tonight she would be on his yacht.

      This night they would be sharing a bed.

      Estelle wasn’t sure if she was more terrified of losing her virginity, or of him finding out that she had never slept with anyone before.

      Maybe he wouldn’t notice, she thought helplessly. But she knew she didn’t have a hope of delivering to his bed the sexually experienced woman that Raúl was expecting. Last night, before heading off with his sponsors for his final night as a single man, Raúl had kissed her slowly and deeply. The message his tongue had delivered had been an explicit one.

      ‘Why do you make me wait?’

      Tonight he would find out why.

      ‘You have a phone call.’ Rosa, his housekeeper, brought the phone up to the balcony. It was Amanda on the line.

      ‘How are you doing?’ Amanda asked.

      ‘I’m petrified.’ It was nice to be honest.

      ‘All brides are,’ Amanda said. ‘But Raúl will take good care of you.’

      He had utterly and completely charmed Amanda, but had not quite won over Andrew.

      ‘I am not letting her go again.’ He had looked Andrew straight in the eye as he said it. ‘If I move Estelle to Spain I want to make a proper commitment. That is why she will come to be my wife.’

      So easily he had lied.

      Estelle knew she must remember that fact.

      ‘How did the dress turn out?’ Amanda asked.

      ‘It’s beautiful,’ Estelle said. ‘Even better than I imagined it would be.’

      It was the only thing Estelle had been allowed to organise. It had all be done online and by phone, and the final adjustments made when she had arrived.

      ‘How is Cecelia?’ Estelle asked, desperate for news of her niece.

      ‘She’s still asleep.’

      It was nine a.m. in Spain, which СКАЧАТЬ