The Ring The Spaniard Gave Her - Lynne Graham Page 0,3

few words, even after the evening classes she had attended for years, because lack of practice had killed her hope of becoming fluent in her mother’s language.

Everything that was masculine and proud in Ruy thrilled to that unexpected challenge and he had all the pride of his hidalgo forebears. A firecracker, yes, he could see that in the aggressive lift of her delicate chin, the toss of her shamelessly untidy hair. She wouldn’t suit his needs at all in the sex department, he acknowledged without hesitation. He preferred his women neat, meek and mild and unlikely to cause waves, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t still want her as a model. After all, he had barely spoken to his last model, now world-famous thanks to the exposure of his previous year’s exhibition because his portraits of beautiful women sold for millions. He didn’t do involvement in any part of his life and that was how he avoided the messy chaos of emotions that had once engulfed him in family disaster.

He spoke to Suzy in Spanish too fast for her to follow in detail and she only got the gist of what he was saying. He was offering her a job as a model. An artist’s model. Her? Suzy couldn’t believe her ears and marvelled that the girls’ friendly outgoing mother, Cecile, hadn’t mentioned the fact that her brother was an artist or that he had come to stay with her.

‘Name your price,’ he said to conclude in English, wanting to be sure she got that message. ‘It would only take a couple of weeks of your time.’

A heavy arm fell round Suzy’s shoulders and her heart sank instantly to the soles of her biker boots: Percy had arrived. ‘Price for what?’ he demanded.

‘I was asking Miss Madderton if she would consider acting as an artist’s model for me.’ Ruy extended his hand politely to Percy. ‘Ruy Rivera,’ he murmured, borrowing his illegitimate half-sister’s maiden name to assure his anonymity. When he was in artist mode and he wanted to be anonymous, he generally used Rivera as a name to cover his tracks.

‘That is absolutely out of the question, Mr Rivera,’ Percy announced with crushing contempt as he ignored Ruy’s extended hand. ‘Suzy and I are getting married the day after tomorrow. She’ll be far too busy!’

‘You could have been nicer to him. He didn’t mean any offence,’ Suzy whispered in sheer embarrassment as Percy herded her domineeringly towards the exit, affecting not to hear the sallies aimed at her from other people.

Angry fingers bit into her upper arm. ‘Don’t tell me how to behave!’ her fiancé snapped in her ear as he thrust her bodily in the direction of his car. ‘And that’ll be the end of all this dance nonsense now. I’m not having my wife up on a stage showing herself off to all and sundry like some stripper!’ he practically spat at her.

Pale and shivering in the cold air, shaken by his anger, Suzy stepped away from him in the direction of the street while rubbing at her arm. ‘You hurt me,’ she muttered unevenly. ‘I haven’t done anything. Why are you so annoyed?’

‘Stop making a fuss, Suzy. Get in the car,’ Percy told her impatiently. ‘You’ll come home with me and get some supper.’

‘I’m sorry. I’m really tired after all that...er...dancing,’ Suzy lied, screening a fake yawn with a slender hand, her wary gaze pinned to the older man’s flushed and still furious face. Supper was merely a euphemism for groping in Percy’s parlance and he had agreed months ago to her demand that theirs would be a marriage in name only. Whether or not he had believed he could change her mind on that score, she had no idea, but she had no plans to engage in an additional war of words and resentment on his sofa after the roughness with which he had handled her. ‘As you said, I have a lot to do for the wedding, so I’ll just head home now. Thanks,’ she completed stiffly, wondering what she was thanking him for but dismayed by the rage in his bloodshot blue eyes and knowing that she was trying to placate him.

‘Suzy!’ Her father’s wonderfully familiar voice hailed her, and she turned in relief to greet him.

Percy took a step back, a forced smile settling on his florid face. ‘Roger,’ he said quietly, all hint of the rage wiped from his expression.

‘Where did you come from?’

‘I ran over to see your dance