.

intended taking Rand up on the offer, but now five months later she needed money. Strictly speaking it was her mother who needed the money. Her consultant had recommended a new three-year course of treatment from America as her best chance of a full recovery after her operation, but it was only available privately in England, and Liz was scheduled to start the treatment in ten days’ time. Jules had assured her mother they could afford the extra expense as only the best was good enough for her beloved mum.

      Jules had taken over the running of the bakery a year ago from her mum and she had embarked on an expansion scheme to provide corporate catering. At Jules’ instigation they had moved from the flat above the shop, and bought a new house six months ago. The flat had been converted into another kitchen and office space with the help of a loan from the bank, plus the addition of a new catering vehicle. Unfortunately for Jules by the time the new treatment had been mentioned their finances had been stretched to the limit.

      Jules had kept the information to herself, not wanting to worry her mother. She had approached the bank but they would not lend her more money so soon after the original investment, and suggested perhaps in another six months when her business plan showed a profit. Her mother could not wait six months, and Jules had tried every avenue but could not raise the cash. Finally in desperation she had contacted Rand Carducci’s office in Italy. Courtesy of his secretary a flight ticket and a hotel booking had arrived two days later for Jules to travel to Chile as instructed. From the man himself she had heard not one word.

      But now that she was face to face with Rand, asking what her father had left her, and demanding if whatever it was could be converted into cash, seemed a hundred times more daunting then it had yesterday.

      ‘I was sorry to hear your engagement to Enrique did not work out.’ Startled out of her troublesome thoughts by his deep, mocking voice, she tensed warily as he continued, ‘I arrived at Carlos’ home the day before your wedding only to discover you had called it off, according to your very disappointed father, because you thought you were too young, and you wanted to have some fun before you settled down. Rather sudden, wasn’t it?’

      Fun… It had been the worst time of her life and yet, according to Rand, her father had made her sound like some flighty bimbo. Her green eyes cautiously searched his, and for a second she thought she saw a flicker of some emotion in the dark depths—sympathy or censure? She wasn’t sure. Did he know the real truth about her broken engagement?

      ‘Yes, well. I had my reasons.’ She lowered her long lashes, avoiding the question in his too astute gaze. It wasn’t up to her to tell Rand the truth. If her late father had chosen to tell everyone it was because she had thought she was too young for marriage, so be it.

      The reality was different. Three days before her marriage, when most of the household had been taking a siesta, she had been too strung up with excitement at her approaching wedding to rest. Instead she had decided to walk across to the neighbouring ranch where Enrique had lived and surprise him…

      The two haciendas were situated either side of the river not a mile apart, the river being the border of the two ranches. She had crossed the water not by the bridge, but by the old stepping-stones set a few hundred yards downstream hidden by the trees.

      She had only gone a few yards through the trees when she had stopped dead, and to this day she could not forget the sight that had met her eyes.

      Enrique her fiancé, stark naked, with an equally naked Maria, Rand’s fiancée, and completely oblivious to her presence! There was not the slightest doubt about what they had been doing, and with nausea rising in her stomach she had run away.

      Jules had made it back to the other side of the river before she’d collapsed on the bank crying her eyes out. That was how Maria had found her. Jules had slapped Maria’s hand away when she’d reached out to comfort her, and Maria had instantly guessed what had happened. ‘You saw us.’ Jules had not needed to confirm it. Maria had been able to see it in her face.

      What had followed had been a painfully succinct lesson in life for Jules. Maria had informed her that she and Enrique had been lovers since the age of fourteen until her mother had found out and sent her to live in Santiago with an aunt. No one else knew of her relationship with Enrique, and no way did she want Jules revealing the truth to anyone, especially not her fiancé, Rand Carducci. He had financed her singing career and she had fully intended to marry him eventually, when she’d become tired of the music scene.

      When Jules had said that was disgraceful, and if Maria married anyone it should be Enrique, because Jules certainly wasn’t going to marry him now, her teenage view of love had been killed stone-dead and the very thought of Enrique touching her turned her stomach.

      Maria’s response had been a shake of her black head. ‘God, you are such an innocent. Surely you must have realised no hot-blooded Chilean male would be content to see his girlfriend for one month a year, and even then Enrique barely kissed you. Do you really think he is marrying you for anything other than your father’s ranch? Look around you—your father and Enrique’s have agreed between them you will inherit this and consequently, as your husband, Enrique. Two good properties amalgamated into one great one and the two families united. Grow up, girl, and face reality. Why do you think your father waited so many years before sending for you? Because he waited until you were of an age to be used,’ she told Jules cynically. ‘As for Enrique, he loves me, and he would marry me tomorrow if I agreed, but no way do I want to be stuck out in the country for the rest of my life. Rand is a much better bet, and I’ll get to travel the world in the lap of luxury.’

      With the veil of innocence so brutally torn from her eyes Jules had been forced to face the fact that what Maria had told her made a horrible kind of sense. When they had finally parted Maria had elicited a promise from Jules that she would not mention her name in connection with Enrique.

      Later Jules had told her father she was calling off the wedding because she had caught Enrique with another woman. He had told her not to be so silly, sex was not the same as the love between a married couple, and she would soon learn.

      Jules had tried to argue, but had been finally silenced when her father had lost his temper and told her the truth. It had all been arranged with Señor Eiga that the two ranches would amalgamate when Jules married his son. As his only child and a female, it was her duty to do as she was told. If not he would cut her off without a penny.

      It was then that she had finally seen her father for what he had been.

      Remembering the episode again now still made Jules wince, mortified at her own blind innocence.

      Rand saw the tightening of her full lips, but stared down at her making no effort to break the lengthening silence. He wasn’t surprised Jules was lost for words with what she had on her conscience. Idly he speculated what excuse she would come up with for her callous disregard of her father, but as she continued to avoid looking at him he found his anger rising. ‘I suppose you heard Enrique died in a car crash a few months later,’ he prompted with barely veiled contempt.

      At the sound of Rand’s voice Jules blinked, banishing the hurtful memories to the back of her mind. ‘Enrique’s father sent me a note,’ she confirmed shortly. It had arrived via a solicitor, and it had been a shock. She recalled the hatred in the short one-liner, the gist of it being that it was her fault his son was dead. Enrique had been driving recklessly because Julia had broken his heart and his father hoped she rotted in hell!

      A flash of rage sparkled in Rand’s black eyes. She knew about the car crash, the crash that had killed his fiancée as well as her ex, and yet she had the nerve to face him. God, she was hard, but, controlling his temper, he said, ‘Even though you had parted, it must have come as quite a shock to you.’

      His large hand reached and squeezed her shoulder for a moment, and Jules felt the pressure of his fingers right through to the bone. ‘Yes,’ she murmured, surprised by his apparent if somewhat fierce gesture of comfort.

      ‘I am sorry. Forgive me for reminding you of your grief,’ he drawled softly.

      From her sitting position she felt at a distinct disadvantage, his great frame towering over her, crowding her, and, lifting