Argentinian Playboy, Unexpected Love-Child. Chantelle Shaw

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СКАЧАТЬ it cool with women, and he had meant to stop after one brief kiss. Rachel’s passionate response had blown him away, but he wasn’t prepared to take all the blame. ‘Do you seriously expect me to believe that if I hadn’t stopped just then, you would have called a halt?’ He gave a disbelieving laugh that sparked Rachel’s temper. ‘Don’t kid yourself, Rachel. Your need was as great as mine—and still is,’ he said coolly as he trailed his hand insolently down the front of her shirt and noted how her nipples jutted to attention.

      He watched her cheeks flood with colour, and with an impatient movement he stood up and strode over to the door of the caravan, snatching oxygen into his lungs as he stared over the lush green English countryside. He was only going to be here for a few weeks, and he had a job to do that promised to be interesting. Rachel played an important role at Hardwick. He had learned from talking to the other grooms that she was highly regarded for her dedication to the horses and the polo club, and he needed to establish a good working relationship with her. The attraction between them was seriously inconvenient—but if Rachel could fight it then so could he.

      ‘This was a mistake,’ she said huskily. For some reason the discernible tremor in her voice tugged at Diego’s insides. He turned his head and saw that she had buttoned her shirt right up to the neck. ‘I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me…and I admit I got carried away. I can’t believe I fell for the “can I come in for coffee?” line,’ she choked. Her eyes fell on the glorious yellow roses and she felt sick. ‘Is that what the flowers were for—to soften me up for a quick sex session?’

      ‘Of course not,’ he grated, outraged at the accusation. She was making it sound as though she was some virginal innocent and he was an utter bastard who had cynically planned to seduce her, but neither was true. ‘It was just a kiss,’ he said coldly. ‘I assure you I had no intention of asking you to jump into bed with me.’

      It might have been ‘just a kiss’ to him, but for Rachel it had been the most devastatingly sensual experience of her life. Still, she would rather die than let him see how much he affected her, and she preferred to carry out a post-mortem of her behaviour away from his mocking gaze. ‘Please go,’ she said shakily. ‘I think it would be best if we both forgot this…this…’

      ‘Fascinating interlude?’ Diego suggested sarcastically.

      ‘Get out!’ The glittering amusement in his eyes was the last straw and she clenched her fists and dared him—dared him—to say another word.

      ‘I’m going.’ He sauntered down the caravan steps and glanced back at her, his tone no longer mocking but quietly serious as he murmured, ‘I agree we should try to forget the sexual chemistry that exists between us, Rachel. But I wonder if we can.’

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE heatwave, which had been unusual for early May, broke and on Monday morning Rachel walked up to the stables in the rain, dreading facing Diego again. Over the weekend she had come to the dismal conclusion that she had seriously overreacted. Of course he hadn’t kissed her as a prelude to persuading her to sleep with him. He was a gorgeous playboy and a sporting hero who was frequently photographed in the tabloids in the company of beautiful models. He was hardly likely to have felt uncontrollable lust for a scruffy stable-girl.

      His scathing dismissal of their kiss emphasised how unimportant he regarded the whole episode, but she had acted like a shocked virgin from a Victorian melodrama. No doubt that was because she was a shocked virgin, she acknowledged gloomily. Diego had made her feel things she had never felt before, and now she felt restless and unfulfilled.

      She did not see him until later in the afternoon, when she and a few of the other grooms had been out exercising some of the polo ponies and gave them one last gallop back to the stables. Diego was wearing a knee-length black oilskin coat and matching wide-brimmed hat that shielded his face, but his height and the width of his shoulders made him instantly recognisable, and Rachel’s heart lurched when she reined in her horse and they trotted into the yard.

      ‘Are you sufficiently recovered from your accident to be riding?’ he greeted her as he strode over and caught hold of her pony’s bridle.

      ‘I’m fine,’ she replied automatically, ignoring the nagging pain in her ribs. Her eyes were drawn to his mouth, and she blushed as she recalled the tingling pleasure of his kiss. She saw something flicker in his eyes and hastily looked away from him. ‘I’d better go and rub Charlie Boy down. He’s covered in mud.’

      ‘You both are,’ Diego said dryly. He did not understand how he could possibly be turned on by Rachel when she was wearing a bulky waxed jacket and mud-spattered jodhpurs. He usually liked women to look feminine and alluring—as if they’d spent their days in the beauty parlour and came to him beautifully groomed and coiffed and dressed in exquisite couture gowns. Rachel looked as though she had rolled in every muddy puddle she’d come across but, to his self-disgust, he imagined undressing her slowly, layer by layer, until he exposed her slender, pale body.

      ‘How are the bruises?’ he asked roughly.

      ‘Fading,’ she mumbled, remembering how he had unfastened her shirt and discovered the ugly purple marks on her shoulder, and how the desire in his eyes had rapidly disappeared. What would he make of her now that the bruises were turning an unattractive greenish yellow? She would never know, she told herself firmly. She was never going to allow him to touch her again, let alone undress her—and, from the cool expression in his eyes, he obviously regretted the whole episode as much as she did.

      ‘You could have taken another day off,’ he murmured. ‘I can see that your shoulder is still stiff.’

      ‘It’s fine—and I’m not used to sitting around doing nothing. I’m not the world’s most patient patient,’ she owned honestly.

      Amusement glinted in his eyes at her understatement. ‘No, I don’t suppose you are. When you’ve seen to your horse I’ll give you a lift home. I have to go into the village and the farm is on my way.’

      ‘Oh, no, it’s okay—I’m not going home just yet.’

      He frowned. ‘There’s nothing more to do here today.’

      ‘I want to take Piran over the jumps,’ Rachel admitted reluctantly.

      He shook his head. ‘That’s not a good idea. It’s your first day back and you must be tired.’ He had watched her on several occasions during the day, when she had been unaware of him, and he was astounded at how hard she worked. She was so petite, and the life of a stable-hand was physically demanding, but from the moment she had arrived at the stables early this morning she had taken on more than her fair share of the workload.

      If Rachel was honest, she was worn out and ached all over, but her innate stubbornness rebelled at Diego’s dictatorial tone. ‘Olympic champions don’t get to the top of their sport by giving in every time they’re tired,’ she said briskly. ‘Piran and I both need all the practice we can get before our next competition.’

      ‘Santa Madre! You are the most headstrong, argumentative…’ Diego inhaled deeply, trying to control his temper. ‘I understand your desire to succeed as a showjumper, but it’s sheer folly to take unnecessary risks.’

      ‘Jumping is a dangerous sport—as is polo,’ Rachel said tightly. ‘How can you warn me about taking risks when your whole career has been built on the fact that you consistently risk your safety when you play? I’ve watched footage of you competing in tournaments, and you ride with a crazy disregard for your safety—almost as if you’ve got a death-wish,’ she added, her voice faltering СКАЧАТЬ