Public Marriage, Private Secrets. HELEN BIANCHIN

stilettos and crossed to her bedroom, where she discarded her clothes, showered. Then, attired in her night wear, she took a cup of tea into the room she’d converted into her home office, set up her laptop, and worked until Jazz leapt up onto the desk in protest.

      ‘Yes, I know. Time to call it a night.’

      She lifted both arms and stretched, felt the stiffness of neck and shoulder muscles, then saved her work, closed down, placed Jazz in his sleep basket and entered her bedroom.

      It was late, much later than she usually chose to retire, and she slid beneath the bedcovers, switched off the bedside lamp…aware that within minutes the adorable fluff-ball would disdain his sleep basket, enter her room, and leap onto the foot of the bed, where he’d settle comfortably and remain until morning.

      Raúl’s disturbing image intruded, and she replayed the evening from the moment he entered the boutique until she left the underground car parking area. An hour and a half, that was all, yet she could recall every detail.

       None of which aided an easy passage into restful sleep, and it didn’t help that he entered her dreams…sequences that switched from happy to sad without rhyme or reason.

      Consequently she woke feeling as if she hadn’t slept at all. Worse, her head threatened a doozy of a headache, and she’d have given almost anything to be able to take the day off.

      Except it wasn’t an option. She had work to do, things to organise…

      Rise and shine, she bade herself silently as she slid from the bed. Time to shower, dress, eat breakfast, grab a caffeine fix, then move it.

      Chapter Three

      ONE day bled into another: hectic long hours where multitasking became a necessity, not an option, and sleep was something Gianna sought in the late-night hours, only to wake at dawn and repeat the process all over again.

      Somewhere in there she factored in a call to Ben, explained her decision, and listened to his voiced caution.

      It didn’t help that he disapproved…for good reason. He didn’t want to see her hurt again.

      ‘Two weeks, Ben,’ she reassured him. ‘I’ll be with Teresa in Mallorca. Raúl will remain in Madrid most of the time.’

      ‘I hope so, for your sake. You’re determined to do this?’

      ‘Yes. For Teresa.’

      ‘OK, but take care,’ he warned. ‘And stay in touch.’

      ‘I will.’ A promise she’d keep, without fail.

      Annaliese accepted the managerial position with remarkable ease, and together they conducted the interviewing, trial and selection of a new team member for Bellissima, choosing a capable salesperson with an impressive CV and a pleasant personality. Gianna elected to retain another applicant on call, should the need arise for back-up.

      By week’s end most everything was in place, and when the weekend—the boutique’s busiest days—passed without a hitch, there seemed no logical reason not to contact Raúl.

      There were, of course, any number of the illogical kind…most of which she’d considered and discarded several times in any one day.

      Except she’d given her word and, failing an accident or illness, in a matter of days she’d board a private jet en route to Madrid, with Raúl in attendance.

      Something she’d give almost anything to avoid.

      Oh…suck it up, she chastised herself in silent admonition.

      He was CEO of the Velez-Saldaña conglomerate. A man who worked long hours and travelled extensively.

      Two weeks. Why, she’d probably only see him a few times, and then she could excuse herself on the pretext of giving mother and son quality time.

      Raúl had only phoned once since the evening they’d shared dinner. And then the conversation had been a brief, matter-of-fact request for an update with a view to fixing a departure time.

      So she made the call, and ignored the faint shivery sensation that slithered down her spine at the sound of his deep faintly accented drawl.

      ‘Gianna.’

      Why should she be surprised he had her number listed on his caller ID register? Except it was recorded as a private listing, and only essential business colleagues and close friends had been given it.

      For a moment she felt inclined to pull him up on it—except he had sources, influence and possessed the manipulative power to acquire almost any information he wanted.

      Cool? She could do cool. ‘I can be available to leave Wednesday.’

       ‘I’ll have a car waiting outside your apartment complex at six Wednesday morning.’

      Her back stiffened. ‘I’d prefer to take a taxi and meet you at the airport.’

      ‘Your bid for independence is admirable. Although totally unnecessary. given we’ll both be heading in the same direction.’ He paused imperceptibly. ‘Six, Gianna.’

      She heard the faint click as he ended the call, and she tamped down the faint growl threatening to emerge from her throat.

      ‘Problems?’

      She schooled her expression at the sound of Annaliese’s voice and summoned a faint smile. ‘No.’

      None that she couldn’t deal with, she assured herself silently as she prepared to leave the boutique at midday on Tuesday. She needed to collect Jazz and deliver him to the boarding cattery, alert Reception she’d be absent from her apartment for two weeks, then pack.

      At some stage she also needed to eat. And clear her refrigerator of any food liable to expire before her return.

       Just do it.

      Don’t allow yourself to think.

      It was late when she finally made it to bed, and she set the alarm, then prepared to sleep…only to toss and turn and wake at dawn, aware that the last thing she remembered was the digital clock read-out signalling 2:15 a.m. in luminous green.

      The urge to bury her head beneath the pillow was difficult to ignore. Although the risk of sleeping through the alarm proved a sufficient deterrent, and she determinedly threw back the bedcovers.

      Coffee, hot, strong and sweet, then she’d shower, do a final check of the apartment, her travel documents, dress…

       It was almost six when Gianna took the elevator down to Reception, and it came as no surprise to see Raúl’s tall figure positioned in the adjoining lounge area.

      For a few timeless seconds his eyes locked with hers, and she determinedly ignored the slow curl of nerves set on causing havoc deep within, even while she silently damned them to hell.

      His sexual alchemy proved a powerful force—something of which he was surely aware. How could he not be? she thought cynically. Women of all ages vied for his attention…openly flirting while issuing silent and not so silent invitations in a bid to discover for themselves if his reputation between the sheets held true.

      To Gianna’s knowledge he never took up with any of them. Except how could she know for sure?

      Absent this morning was the corporate business suit, buttoned shirt and tie. Instead he’d chosen casual attire—tailored black trousers, black butter-soft leather jacket, and a white chambray shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

      An overall look which emphasised his blatant masculinity and gave Gianna pause to question her sanity.

      Two weeks, she reminded herself stoically. Fourteen days…most of which would pass without her seeing him at all.

      So what is the problem? Begin as you mean to go on, she cautioned herself staunchly as he crossed to her side.

      ‘Good