CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER NINE

R AUL PULLED AWAY for a moment, staring down at Libby as though he’d never seen her before, as though he’d never seen a flesh and blood woman in his life, his eyes sweeping across her face, trying to make sense of it, but even then there was a magnetic pull towards her that dominated all else, and suddenly he was kissing her again, his mouth on hers more demanding, more urgent, reminding him of the first cataclysmic time they’d touched. He’d put it down to adrenalin then, and maybe the same excuse applied now—their wedding day was not a moment without emotion for either of them, despite the nature of their union. Whatever the reason, he wanted to kiss her. He didn’t question that want, he simply drew her into his arms and took what she was offering, with no thought of where they were nor how out of step this was with their marriage.

It didn’t feel out of step.

It felt like exactly what he should be doing, and she tasted so sweet, like vanilla and strawberries, so he wanted more and more of her. Her dress was a simple silk with a white faux fur coat. She was a sensory explosion, all soft and textural beneath his touch.

He suddenly wanted to be anywhere but here, in a room in a courthouse, being married by some strange officiant. As if on cue, the man cleared his throat, perhaps more than once, but it took a moment for Raul to hear, to recollect himself and pull away from Libby, to stare down at her with an expression more like the impassive mask he should have been wearing.

‘Thank you,’ he said, not sure if he was speaking to Libby or the celebrant, but extending a hand in the celebrant’s direction belatedly.

‘Congratulations.’ The man grinned, gesturing to the door. ‘If you’ll head out there, Rowena will see to the paperwork.’

In his peripheral vision, Raul saw Libby’s tight nod of her head, and a single glance in her direction showed the dazed and confused look on her face. Something tightened inside of him. He had to get control of this. He had to manage things better.

As they signed the certificate of marriage, the photographer Raul’s assistant had organised took pictures and Raul made a point of smiling, remembering the whole purpose of this was to have something to show their child when they were older. Perhaps they’d even print one of the pictures and hang it on a wall. Raul didn’t have any photographs of himself or his birth parents, or anyone of significance in his life. There’d never really been anyone, and that was fine by Raul, but for their child they were creating a different reality, a myth, and pictures would be a part of that.

In front of the building, they posed for a few more snaps, but when the photographer suggested a kiss Raul responded gruffly, ‘That’s enough.’ He felt Libby stiffen at his side and could have kicked himself. ‘It’s cold. Time to get inside,’ he said, turning to Libby and offering another smile—though it felt stretched on his face.

She nodded, not meeting his eyes.

Back in the limousine, he noticed they sat as far from one another as possible. Good. Keeping their distance was a wise move.

‘You mentioned something about a lunch now?’ she asked quietly, fidgeting with her hands in her lap.

Raul closed his eyes as he remembered that particular detail. ‘My assistant’s idea.’

He missed the hurt on Libby’s face, but when she spoke her voice trembled a little. ‘We don’t have to go. There’s not really anything to celebrate here, is there?’

Raul cursed inwardly. ‘We just got married,’ he said. ‘It’s the least we can do to mark the occasion.’

‘I really can’t see that’s necessary,’ she muttered, the glumness in her voice unmistakable, and she continued to stare at her wedding ring.

Raul reached over, putting a hand on hers without thinking, then wishing he hadn’t when he felt the now predictable surge of awareness travel the length of his arm. Touching her was his weakness. The lightest brush of his flesh to hers and he forgot everything he’d promised himself about this marriage, the necessary boundaries and restrictions, and just wanted to exist without constraint.

‘We are having a child, and raising them as a family. We both know why that matters to us.’

‘Yes,’ she whispered, lifting her head but only so she could tilt it away from him, looking out of the window.

‘So let’s celebrate our commitment to the baby,’ he said. ‘This is the first day of our new family,’ he said, and Libby turned to face him then, eyes wide and so beautiful he couldn’t look away.

‘Family,’ she murmured, as if struck by that idea. Just as he was when he heard her say the word. Struck, and trapped. Terrified. He removed his hand, tried not to look as though the heavens were falling down around him.

‘Besides, I’m hungry.’

Libby nodded, then blinked and turned away. Raul resisted the urge to ask her to turn back, to look at him again, but her eyes were quickly becoming an addiction of his. Yet another thing to conquer.

Not only was the restaurant beautiful and exclusive, but Raul’s assistant had outdone herself, having a small private alcove reserved for the occasion, decked out in dozens more of the stunning white roses that had formed Libby’s bouquet. She brushed the petals of one as she sat down, the softness reminding her of the silk of her dress.

‘You look beautiful,’ Raul said, as if reading her mind, like he was also thinking of the silk she wore.

Heat suffused Libby’s cheeks. ‘It’s just a thrift shop find,’ she said. ‘A bit of fun, really. The dress is from the twenties.’

‘It suits you.’

‘I guess I’m an old-fashioned kind of girl,’ she quipped, eyes dropping to her wedding ring, a frown tugging at her lips before she could control it.

A waitress appeared with a bottle of champagne, popped the top. ‘It’s non-alcoholic,’ she said with a bright smile, ‘per the request we were emailed.’

They were silent as the drinks were poured, and then, left to their own devices, that silence took on a crackling, electric quality. Libby reached for her drink, wrapped her fingers around the stem but didn’t lift it.

‘A toast,’ Raul said quietly. Libby waited, heart in her throat. ‘To our baby’s future,’ he murmured, and it was so perfectly appropriate because it was a heartfelt sentiment, perhaps the only heartfelt utterance he could have delivered in that moment, and it meant the world to both of them. Libby lifted her glass and clinked it to his.

‘To our baby,’ she murmured, sipping the drink, finding it every bit as delicious as champagne. She closed her eyes, the moment wrapping around her. ‘I can’t believe we’re married,’ she said after a beat.

‘I was there. It happened.’

She pulled a face. ‘Yeah, I just mean...’

‘I know what you mean.’

‘In the blink of an eye, I feel like my life has changed so much.’ She looked around the room, gesturing distractedly to the grandeur of the restaurant. ‘I mean, look at this place. It’s the sort of restaurant my clients go to, not me.’

Raul was a study in relaxation. ‘What did you see as your future, Libby?’

‘I hadn’t worked it out yet,’ she said honestly. ‘I thought I’d study, do something so I could work from home and take care of the baby.’

He nodded. ‘I mean if there was no baby. Before meeting me, what was your long-term plan? At one time you wanted to be a chef. But after that, was there anything else?’

It wasn’t an unreasonable question and yet, for some reason, Libby felt her defensive hackles rise. ‘I didn’t think about it. I just had to work and earn enough to get by.’

‘I admire that,’ he surprised her by saying. ‘But surely at some point you wanted something more?’

‘No.’ She ran a finger over the condensation on her glass. ‘Although...’

‘What?’

‘It’s stupid,’ she said with a wry smile, but the smile slipped when she saw the look in his eyes—a look of such intense interest that heat bubbled in her veins. ‘When I was a kid, I wanted to be a doctor.’

Raul lifted one brow. ‘Why is that stupid?’

‘Well, I can’t stand the sight of blood, for one thing,’ she said, sipping her drink. ‘But when I was a little girl, maybe seven or eight, my mum passed out. She’d had too much to drink, but I didn’t know that then. I just remember seeing her on the floor, not being able to wake her up and panicking. We’d had firefighters come to our school earlier that year, talking to us about what to do in an emergency, so I knew to call emergency services. An ambulance came with flashing lights and kind, confident people who made me feel so good and like everything was going to be okay. My mother was furious with me,’ she added, grimacing.

‘Why?’

‘For one thing, she was embarrassed. For another, there was a cost for the callout.’ Libby scrunched up her nose. ‘But I’ll never forget my sense of helplessness, contrasted with the relief I felt when the paramedics arrived and knew exactly what to do. I wanted to be that person who could walk into a room and fix people, make everything okay for everyone.’ Libby bit down on her lip. ‘Instead, I clean houses. And boats.’

Raul reached across the table, put his hand on Libby’s, and her heart jumped into her throat. She felt his sympathy and immediately wanted to push it away.

‘It’s not like I hate it,’ she said. ‘In fact, there’s a lot to like about it. The pay’s okay, and I get to choose my schedule.’

‘Not to mention the occasional adventure on the high seas,’ he pointed out.

‘Right.’ She was surprised by how natural it felt to smile. The waitress returned to take their orders. Libby hadn’t even looked at the options. Raul suggested a tasting menu and she readily agreed.

‘You have some food allergies though, right?’ the waitress said, referring to her notepad.

Raul spoke before Libby could respond. ‘Shellfish and soft cheeses.’

Libby’s eyes widened. He’d read the pregnancy books? Of course he had. Raul was taking no chances with this baby. Her stomach did a funny little loop.

‘Got it.’ The waitress smiled as she departed.

Libby propped her elbows on the table, resting her chin on one palm. ‘What about you?’ she asked, fascinated by the strength in Raul’s face, the symmetry of his features. ‘What did you want to be when you were a kid?’

He grinned. ‘A builder.’

‘Really?’

‘I loved watching high-rises go up. I was fascinated by the way they could be shaped almost as if from the ground. The steel, concrete, the structures. I would skip school and watch the work all day. Sometimes, I’d get to help, earn a few bucks. I loved the feeling of creating something with my bare hands,’ he said, looking down at them, almost as if surprised by the admission. ‘I haven’t thought of that for a long time.’

‘But instead you became...well, fabulously wealthy,’ she said, crinkling her nose again. ‘I don’t even know what you do, besides make a lot of money.’

‘I started off investing in companies,’ he said, as though it were that simple.

‘What kinds of companies?’

‘Businesses that were failing but which had untapped potential. I exploited their market weakness to get a good deal, then either restructured to turn a profit or pieced them up and sold them off, whichever was going to yield the best return.’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t even imagine how you got started doing that,’ she murmured. ‘As someone who comes from nothing, who never had money behind me, just getting by is a struggle some days.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed with vehemence. ‘Precisely. I hit rock-bottom, Libby. I hit it, scraped along it, settled there for long enough to know that I couldn’t keep living like that. I had to claw my way off the bottom with my bare hands. It was bloody and hard, and I had to fight tooth and nail to get out, but I swore to myself I would never know that kind of poverty again. I would never be hungry, I would never be cold, I would never be on the streets.’

Admiration for Raul’s determination swelled inside of her, and a pride too that she immediately fought. After all, what business did she have feeling proud of him? None of this was down to her. He wasn’t even her real husband. It was a sobering thought and her smile momentarily slipped.

‘I got a job at a construction company. Just a small one, run by an old couple—they were in their late eighties when I met them. I don’t know why they hired me. I was as surprised then as I am now. I was seventeen, skinnier than a nail, but they took a bet on me and I wasn’t going to waste the opportunity. I worked my fingers to the bone, and the owner’s wife, Maria, would bring lunches to the site. She must have seen how hungry I was. I ate, gained weight, grew stronger, worked harder. I worked for them for three years, got to know them, and then the owner, Pedro, came to me one day and told me he was retiring. That he was leaving the company to me. It was a gift, Libby. A gift. Only, he didn’t see it that way. He said I would take their legacy and turn it into something great. He said that he believed in me.’

Raul’s eyes widened and Libby’s heart felt dangerously soft and aching. ‘No one had ever believed in me before. It was a gift and a burden. I have spent the last ten years trying to justify his faith.’

Libby’s eyes were suspiciously moist. ‘Do you still own the company?’

‘It’s the backbone of all that I do,’ Raul admitted. ‘It’s basically unrecognisable now, but I kept the name, and I think of Maria and Pedro often, I wonder where I would have been if it weren’t for them.’

‘They didn’t have children?’

‘No. They couldn’t.’

Libby grimaced sympathetically. ‘They must have felt that they won the lottery, finding you.’

‘I try to make decisions they would be proud of,’ he said, again looking surprised by the admission. ‘I try to justify the gift they gave me.’

‘Raul, even without them, I have no doubt you would be sitting here right now. There’s just something about you. Pedro and Maria saw it; I do too.’

His eyes flicked to hers then away again, almost as if he didn’t want to believe that.

‘Do you ever think about those guys who stole your boat?’ she asked, sipping her drink, then easing back in her seat as the waitress appeared with their entrees, a delightful little bowl of velouté.

‘Think about them in what way?’

‘Wonder about their lives, what they’re doing now?’

‘I know what they’re doing,’ he answered simply.

She blinked. She supposed it was possible the police had kept Raul in the loop, given they’d tried to steal his boat.

‘Two have been moved into apprenticeship programmes to learn a trade, one is at a boarding school in the city, and another is being helped by a social worker with some childhood trauma he experienced.’

Libby paused, midway through lifting her spoon from the bowl. ‘How do you know this?’

Raul briefly looked uncomfortable.

Libby’s heart sped up. ‘You did that for them, didn’t you?’

‘Punishment of a judicial nature didn’t seem to fit the crime. Besides, I know what kids like that need, and it’s not detention.’

Her stomach was in knots and tears sprang to her eyes quickly.

Raul looked terrified.

‘I’m sorry.’ Libby half laughed. ‘It’s the pregnancy hormones.’ But it wasn’t, and she shook her head, dispelling that. ‘No, it’s more, it’s... I think you did a wonderful thing for them,’ she said softly. ‘Maria and Pedro would be so proud of you.’

Raul looked away before she could see his response, but she knew she’d touched a chord deep within him.

‘It was the right thing to do.’

‘Yeah,’ she agreed in a heartbeat. ‘But lots of people wouldn’t have done it. I mean, they punched you—’

‘He caught me off-guard. He was little more than a child.’

‘Still. They stole your boat.’

‘I got it back. No harm done. Besides, a boat is just a boat. It’s a thing, easy to replace.’

She shook her head. ‘Not necessarily, but for you, yes, I can see your point.’

They ate their soup and Libby was surprised to find they slipped easily into small talk. She asked him about the city and he returned those questions, so she found herself sharing stories of her walking adventures, how far she’d gone, how much of the city she’d seen by exploring on foot. He asked about her favourite streets, any cafés she’d found and enjoyed, if there was anything she’d wanted to do but couldn’t, and Libby realised she had been developing a wish-list as she’d walked, of certain sights she’d like to tour, shops she wanted to explore.

‘It’s just all so different to what I’m used to,’ she said. ‘The weather, the streets, the buildings.’ She shook her head. ‘I realise how sheltered I’ve been, in not travelling. You know, I’d only ever flown once before meeting you,’ she confided. ‘To Brisbane, for Mum’s funeral.’

Raul’s expression was unchanged but something shifted in the depth of his gaze.

‘Now I feel as though my eyes have been opened to this whole big wide world and I want to see it, Raul. I want to explore everything.’

‘Where else would you like to go?’ he asked, as the waitress came to clear their plates. Libby didn’t notice.

‘Oh, I don’t mean I want to leave New York,’ she said with a wave of her hand. ‘Only that I want to inhale this city while I’m here. I want to see and understand everything. And yes, then I’d like to see more, cities I’ve read about and seen in movies and never thought I would have within my reach. I want to show them to our child, to explore them together,’ she said, smiling as she patted her stomach.

‘And you will. You know my plane is at your disposal, I presume?’

Libby’s eyes went round in her face. ‘Erm...no, I didn’t, actually, but I...’ Her voice trailed off as she realised how foolish she’d been about to sound. To actually admit that part of what she’d been envisaging was exploring not just with their child but with Raul too.

She coloured to the roots of her hair. ‘Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.’