CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

H E WAS LIKE a hurricane, a phenomenon of strength and precision that came almost entirely out of nowhere, bursting into the control room of his mega yacht as though he’d been born fighting. There were four men and only one Raul, but Raul went for the biggest teenager, clearly the ringleader, shoving him away from the controls and standing with his legs braced, eyeing up the group, who looked shocked and, yes, drunk.

‘Right—’ he spoke with stern command ‘—get over there.’

The oldest, rubbing his shoulder, where it had connected with the wall, glared back. ‘Who’s gonna make us?’

‘Believe me, you don’t want the answer to that question.’ His accent grew thicker. ‘I am giving you a chance to end this peacefully,’ he said, reaching behind them and bringing the boat to a halt. Libby saw him remove the key and slip it in his pocket.

Clever.

The feeling of stillness after such a chaotic and wild ride was a huge relief. She held her ground, wary and watchful but oddly not feeling in any danger.

Raul just seemed so completely in control, it was mesmerising.

‘Yeah, well, you’re outnumbered,’ one of the smaller teens said, bravely approaching Raul. ‘Come on, we can take him.’

‘I wouldn’t bet on it,’ Raul replied, and when the teen lifted his fist and attempted to land another punch, Raul caught it, twisting it quickly and sharply up the boy’s back.

‘Stay back,’ he warned another of the group, who’d made to move closer. Then, turning to Libby, ‘Come here, please.’

It took her a moment to galvanise her feet into action, but after a small pause, she skirted around the edge of the group towards Raul.

‘Take the rope. Tie this one up.’

She nodded, moving as quickly as she could with fingers that were shaking, while Raul continued to restrain the teen’s hands and stare down the rest of the thieves, who were clearly running out of fight.

‘We didn’t know you’d be on board,’ the fourth one to speak muttered. ‘It was meant to be empty.’

‘My plans changed,’ Raul snapped. ‘But, either way, this was not an open invitation for you to take my boat and almost destroy it.’

‘We didn’t—’

He glared at the ringleader. ‘Enough. Go and sit down against the wall, hands behind your back.’

Libby’s pulse was racing in her ears. Was it really possible this could be over so easily?

Apparently not. At the exact moment she began to relax, one of the smaller teens lunged towards her, grabbing her around the neck, and she startled and might have screamed, except she had Raul’s warning in her mind that she would be a liability and she didn’t want to prove him right.

And so she thought quickly, stomped her foot down onto the boy’s toes as hard as she could, then lifted her knee and connected it with a sensitive part of his anatomy. He dropped to the ground, curled into a ball.

‘Effective technique,’ Raul drawled with approval. ‘Anyone else want a lesson from Libby?’

‘We didn’t know you’d be on board,’ the ringleader said again.

‘And how exactly did you become privy to his schedule?’ Libby demanded, emboldened by her success in subduing the would-be attacker.

‘I—’

‘Shut up, Jerry,’ the smallest of the group shouted.

Raul’s eyes locked onto Libby’s with something like admiration.

‘Let me guess. One of you has a friend who works at the marina.’ Her eyes widened. ‘Or for the cleaning contractor!’ she said, snapping her fingers. ‘Of course. How else would you know anything about the boat owner’s commitments?’

Raul moved then to subdue the third boy, tying his hands easily before moving to the fourth. ‘Sit down,’ he commanded. ‘And don’t say anything.’

Turning back to Libby, he murmured, ‘Watch them.’ Then, more quietly, ‘Are you okay?’

She nodded, and she was, though she could feel the start of her adrenalin turning into something else, her throat thickening with emotion at what had just happened.

Raul inserted the key into the boat and thrummed the engine to life. A moment later, they were cruising back towards the marina—at high speed, but with absolute safety and command. Libby tried not to take her eyes off the delinquents, but every now and again she sneaked a glance at Raul and felt her pulse wobble.

He’d gone into survival mode. The same strengths and instincts that had kept him alive on the streets of Spain as a runaway street kid had thundered to life once more, fine-tuning his responses so that he acted purely with one objective in mind: survival. Not just his own survival, but Libby’s too.

The yacht under his control once more, the gang subdued and contrite-looking, Raul allowed himself to glance once in Libby’s direction, noticing things he’d been too under pressure to conceive of at the time.

From her shimmering blonde hair to icy blue eyes, petite frame and honey-gold skin, full and pouting lips, and natural athleticism—which he’d witnessed for himself as she’d prepared to go toe to toe with the teen who’d attacked her.

Her eyes lifted to his and caught him staring. He smiled slowly, a quirk of his mouth. Her lips parted, showing a full, perfect circle, and he felt something tighten in his groin.

Adrenalin of a wholly different nature fired to life. He recognised it well.

The thrill of victory, of survival, made him feel more alive than almost anything else.

It was a thrill he remembered. Now his victories tended to be in the boardroom rather than on the streets. At first, that had been thrilling, but in recent years he’d become complacent even with his biggest corporate wins.

‘We just thought—’

Raul turned his attention back to one of the teens, a stab of sympathy shifting through him.

‘You didn’t think,’ he said quietly. ‘You tried to take what you wanted, and you could have all got yourselves killed in the process.’

The teen dropped his head.

The marina was in view now, complete with flashing lights, indicating the water police were in action. He pulled the yacht towards a pontoon, concentrating on the manoeuvre as well as on the teens.

As soon as the boat came to a stop there was the sound of thudding boots on the deck and then police were bursting into the control room, sweeping it with loud noises, guns held.

‘I am the owner,’ Raul announced, palms lifted. ‘This is my boat.’

Libby, he saw, echoed his gesture, lifting her hands.

‘These are the four you’re after.’

‘Do you have some identification, sir?’ the more senior of the officers queried.

Raul reached into his pocket and removed a slimline wallet, from which he brandished a driving licence. The officer took it, looking from Raul to the photograph then nodding.

‘And you?’ He turned to Libby.

‘She’s with me,’ Raul said, surprised at the possessive heat that stole through him. Then again, Libby had stood shoulder to shoulder with him in the midst of whatever danger might have befallen him. Naturally he felt a connection with her.

‘Righto. Take ’em out,’ the officer said with a nod. ‘I’ll need you to make a statement. Do you require medical attention?’

‘He was punched,’ Libby said, and Raul almost laughed at her concern.

‘I’m reasonably sure I’ll survive though,’ he drawled, moving closer to her unconsciously. ‘Are you okay?’

She nodded once.

‘So you’re happy to make a statement now?’

Raul looked down at Libby. She was shaking. Predictably, shock was setting in.

‘A brief statement,’ he said with a nod. ‘And by brief, I mean five minutes. I can provide more tomorrow.’

The officer opened his mouth as if to argue but then he nodded. ‘Of course.’ He pulled out his notepad and asked for the bare outline of events. Raul detailed what had happened. Libby nodded. It was over quickly. The officer handed Raul his card. ‘If you remember anything else, give me a call.’

Raul’s eyes glittered. ‘Count on it.’

As quickly as it had begun, it was over. The officers left, the sirens stopped, and they were alone. Libby’s adrenalin had completely evaporated now and she found herself shaking from head to toe.

‘I...should go,’ she said, turning to Raul, frowning, because it had truly been the strangest afternoon of her life.

‘No, I forbid it,’ Raul responded, his lips twisting in a half-smile, yet his voice was deathly serious. ‘Sit.’ He guided her into the captain’s chair then disappeared, returning a moment later with a blanket, which he wrapped around her shoulders, before leaving once more.

When he came back it was with a tumbler of Scotch. ‘Drink this.’

Libby wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m not really one for hard liquor.’

‘Desperate times,’ he said, with a quiet gentleness to his voice.

Her gaze was drawn to his and something exploded in her chest. It was the strangest feeling! As though something in the very depths of her soul recognised something within him, calling to her, making her trust him implicitly.

She reached out, taking the Scotch, eyes latching onto his and holding as she lifted the tumbler to her lips and tasted it. Shuddering a little, she let the liquid touch her tongue, discovering there was something pleasing about it after all, something steadying to her nerves. She scrunched up her face and drank the rest, then coughed as it hit her palate like a Molotov cocktail.

‘Okay?’ He patted her back as he asked, crouching down beside her, and this time, when their eyes met, everything inside her seemed to jolt into place. She was floating and flying all at once. Her bones seemed to turn to jelly.

She nodded, but she was shaking. From the terror of what had just happened? Or from something else?

Strangely, she hadn’t been afraid. Not once they’d entered the room and she’d seen how in control Raul was. He’d made it all seem fine. Somehow, she’d just known he would triumph. He had a quality; there was something inherently trustworthy about him, something Libby had never really experienced first-hand in a man. Not her father, whom she’d never known, not any of the men her mother had dated, and not her first—and only—boyfriend.

She stared at Raul because it was impossible to look away.

‘I feel—’ she said, pressing a hand to the middle of her chest, frowning as she searched for the right word.

His eyes were shuttered, impossible to read. But something was bubbling up inside Libby. An awakening, something that was vitally important. It caught her completely off-guard because it ran contrary to all of her usual instincts. Having seen the way her mother flung herself headlong into romantic entanglements, Libby had very, very carefully always been the exact opposite. Oh, she wanted love, she craved it in many ways, but not like her mother had. When Libby fell in love it would be for keeps, with the right kind of man. Someone kind and gentle who wouldn’t hurt her. She’d certainly never give in to something as superficial and unreliable as physical chemistry!

Yet now she felt desire running through her like a current, sucking her along with it, hypnotising her and seducing her, making her want to act on these impulses despite her better judgement. Was this what it had been like for her mother?

‘Raul,’ she said desperately, moving her hand from her own chest to his. ‘You were incredible.’ She heard the awe in her voice, the admiration, wondered if she should contain it, act cool or something. But she couldn’t. ‘I feel more alive than I’ve ever felt,’ she said, smiling, and when his gaze dropped to her mouth she was propelled forward. There was an inevitability to it, a sense of rightness, and before she could overthink it and listen to the warning instincts that had kept her safe from heartbreak all these years, she brushed her lips to his, seeking connection.

She’d half-expected him to pull back. She felt him stiffen and knew he hadn’t been anticipating her action. She hovered there, lips pressed to his, but not deepening the kiss, just breathing him in, wondering if she’d just made a colossal, embarrassing mistake.

But then, as if the same inevitability was driving Raul, suddenly he was kissing her too, with a visceral growl ripped from his chest, a hand coming to cup behind her head, holding her there for his pleasure, his tongue rolling hers, his lips commanding, demanding, perfection. They moved as one, her standing, or being pulled to standing, by Raul, his hands drawing her closer, into his chest, which was broad and rugged, and through which she could feel his heart beating rapidly.

It was like the bursting of a dam.

The tension and the danger of the preceding thirty minutes had accumulated to form a ground swell of need that was threatening to devour Libby, but in Raul there was salvation, there was relief.

His hands moved deftly, removing her clothing, and she didn’t question how out of character this was, how strange; she simply went with the flow, surrendering to a moment that was so much bigger than her.

His chest was bare beneath her hands; she realised she’d done that, shucking his shirt then moving to his trousers, which he stepped out of at the same time she pushed at them. There was desperation in their movements and now they knelt in unison, then his body was over hers, hungry, urgent, his mouth demanding, his hands roaming her skin, touching every inch of her, worshipping her breasts until she could hardly breathe, his mouth following his fingers, chasing his kisses. She felt as though everything was spinning too fast, like she couldn’t focus on anything beyond this.

But then he was moving, his body gone, and confusion swamped her. She pushed up on her elbows, watching as he unfolded his wallet, removed a condom and pressed it over his length.

Her eyes widened, because he was huge and she hadn’t done this in a long time, and even then only a few times, and hadn’t really enjoyed it, so in the midst of the inevitability of this, something sharp jabbed her consciousness, making her doubt.

She should stop this.

She wasn’t her mother.

She’d learned her lessons all too well.

Except she hadn’t, apparently, because she was burning up with need and desire and her brain refused to listen. Raul came back to her, and so did her certainty, her need, pushing everything else away, so when he separated her legs with his knee she felt only excitement. Then he was pushing into her and she was crying out with a surge of something she’d never known before, as all the life-affirming feelings of relief, adrenalin, need and power thrilled in her veins. He kissed her as he moved and she wrapped her legs around his waist, the sublime perfection of this moment somehow totally appropriate after the strange detour her day had already taken. Later, she’d probably wonder what had come over her, but for now, all Libby could do was lie there and enjoy the best pleasure she’d ever known...

‘Well,’ he drawled, moving away from her with true regret but knowing he needed to put some distance between them if he were to have any hope of regaining his sanity. ‘That was unexpected.’

To his relief, Libby smiled. A slow, sensual smile. ‘Which part? The boat being stolen, or the sex?’

Amusement flickered in the pit of his belly. ‘Both.’

‘Agreed.’ She looked around the control room, her lips turning down as the wild tangle of their clothes became evident.

‘I think in the heat of the moment—’

‘The relief of having survived,’ she agreed, nodding.

He was glad she was being so sensible, that she saw things as he did, so why was there also a hint of frustration that she was so quick to dismiss this?

Raul was flying out of the country the next day, it wasn’t as though he could offer her anything more, not like he would want to, anyway.

‘It was all...surreal,’ she said with a lift of her brows.

‘But wonderful,’ he murmured, pulling on his shorts and crouching down. ‘The second part, anyway.’

Heat flushed her cheeks, a sweet innocence that made him wonder how often she did this sort of thing. She hadn’t been a virgin, but there was something about her totally unguarded responses that made him wonder...

He shut down the thoughts.

He didn’t wonder about the women he slept with. He didn’t postulate on their private lives. He had sex, and he moved on.

‘Are you okay?’

She nodded, expelling a soft sigh.

‘I mean after the whole boat hijacking incident. No injuries?’

She shook her head.

‘Sometimes, these things can build as a trauma inside of you. If you should find you experience this, and need help, I want you to let me know.’

Her eyes widened. ‘I’m sure I’ll be fine,’ she mumbled.

‘I am too. Nonetheless...’ He moved to his wallet, ignoring the other condom in there with great willpower. ‘Here’s my card.’

She took it without looking down. ‘Thanks.’

He nodded once, feeling that at least he’d done his duty there. ‘Suffice it to say, I’ll cover any expenses. Therapy, whatever you need.’

She laughed then. ‘Raul, it’s fine. I’m fine.’ She stood, retrieving her underwear, dressing with a litheness of movement that made his mouth dry. She was so effortlessly graceful, she was beautiful to watch.

He frowned. ‘Would you care to have dinner with me?’

Her eyes widened as though it was the last thing she’d been expecting him to say. And wasn’t that true for him too? Dinner? After sex?

He could only put the uncharacteristic offer down to the bizarre day he’d had.

‘It’s too early for dinner,’ she pointed out, waving a hand towards the sky. She was right. It probably wasn’t even six yet. ‘And I’m not hungry.’ She finished dressing. ‘I’ll just get my things and go.’

After the storm came the calm, and in that calm she had space to freak out, just a little, at what had happened. While sleeping with Raul had been incredible, it had also been totally unlike Libby, and she found herself jangling with nerves and needing some space to be alone.

The idea of sharing dinner with him made something ache in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t say why, only that she felt his gravitational pull and saw danger in it, a danger that surprised her with its intensity, because a moment ago she’d been thinking that he was safety and trust personified.

Frustrated with her ambivalence and lack of clarity, she pushed a bright smile to her face, hoping it radiated with a confidence she was far from feeling.

‘Well, it was...nice...if somewhat strange, to meet you,’ she said, and she held out her hand. It might have seemed like an odd thing to do, having just slept with him on the floor of his boat, but Libby needed to reassert herself as a confident, sensible woman—the exact opposite of her mother in every way.

‘You too, Libby Langham.’ He took her hand and a shiver ran all the way from her fingertips to her heart, making her tremble. She quickly pulled her hand away and spun before he could see it. She needed to get out of there.

‘You can’t be serious?’ The police detective regarded Raul as though he’d sprouted three heads.

‘Why not?’ Raul didn’t move, not even a little. He held his expression, his stance and, most of all, his mettle.

‘Well, it’s just...unusual, that’s all. I mean, they tried to steal a multi-million-dollar boat from you,’ the detective pointed out, drawing a hand through his hair before gesturing towards Raul’s face. ‘Clocked you on the cheek. And you’re offering to pay their school fees?’

‘I’m offering whatever assistance they need,’ he confirmed with a nod. ‘I would like you to arrange a meeting with their parents for this afternoon.’ He flicked a glance at his watch. He’d be flying out later tonight, so there was limited time in which to wrap this up. But having grown up poor and on the streets, Raul had also done things in his youth of which he was ashamed. He knew how easy it was to take a wrong turn in life, to make a mistake, particularly when no one believed you were capable of more. It was because of one couple’s act of faith in him that Raul’s life had forked in a better direction, and it was for them that he now tried to offer hope when he could to other children in similar situations to what his own had once been.

‘These boys have been in and out of trouble most of their lives,’ the detective repeated incredulously.

‘All the more reason to try something new. Arrange the meeting—if they want help, I’m going to give it.’

He left the police station, satisfied with the steps he was planning to take for the youths, knowing it was the right thing to do. And yet there was a sense of impatience in his belly too, a feeling of wanting more.

Of wanting Libby.

His mind flashed back to the boat, to their time together, and he closed his eyes for a moment as a wave of desire washed over him, remembered pleasure holding him completely in its thrall, and then he was moving, determinedly pushing the whole experience from his mind and focusing on his next destination, his next conquest, his next challenge. Raul didn’t look back, he didn’t do repeat experiences and, most importantly, he didn’t stick around anywhere—or anyone—long enough to get attached.