One Night in Buenos Aires: The Vásquez Mistress. Sarah Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ wardrobe. Dresses, shoes, casual wear, underwear, nightwear—the fact that it had been lacking nothing was a testament to Raul’s experience of women but she’d tried not to think about that as she’d riffled her way through the various boxes.

      If she was seriously going to give their marriage another go, then she needed to stop thinking like that.

      So now, as she arrived at the estancia, she was wearing a cool summer dress in soft, muted shades of green and a simple pair of sandals. Lifting her hand to her head, she fingered her hair self-consciously and he caught the gesture and gave a frown.

      ‘Don’t. I like it.’

      It was the first compliment he’d paid her since he’d stormed into the hospital on that first day and Faith gazed at him in surprise. ‘You do?’

      ‘Yes.’ He gave a smile that was faintly mocking. ‘You look like a pixie.’

      ‘Oh.’ She wanted to ask whether he found pixies sexy but then realised that she already knew the answer to that question. Obviously not, since he hadn’t been near her for the past four days.

      And she was relieved about that, she told herself firmly, because she wasn’t ready to make love with him yet. Yes he was impossibly sexy, but for her it was more complicated than that. Her feelings were bruised and damaged and before she committed herself emotionally, she needed to know that he cared about her.

      She needed him to show it.

      Maria, the housekeeper, hurried across the courtyard towards them and Raul gave her a warm smile.

      ‘Buenos dias, Maria, qué tal?’

      Wistfully remembering a time when he’d smiled at her with the same warmth, Faith also greeted the older lady and then followed her towards the luxurious Beach House that was Raul’s private residence.

      He could have lived in the thirty-two-roomed estancia, but instead he’d turned it into his corporate headquarters, complete with suites of rooms for entertaining and overnight guests. For his own personal use, he’d chosen the privacy and intimacy of the Beach House, well away from the busy commercial world of the estancia.

      The first time she’d seen it, Faith had been unable to believe that such paradise actually existed.

      It was hidden from the main house by trees and fencing, and opened onto a private beach so breathtakingly idyllic that the world outside seemed not to exist and the only sound was the gentle hiss of waves breaking onto the perfect curve of white sand.

      ‘Everything is ready for you,’ Maria told Raul as she opened the door for them. ‘Just as you instructed.’

      Dragging her gaze from the sea, Faith gave a gasp of surprise. The elegant Beach House was filled with the scent of flowers and someone had obviously given a great deal of thought to their return. On the table, a basket was piled high with exotic fruit and a bottle of vintage champagne lay chilling in an ice bucket.

      ‘All Raul’s idea,’ Maria said, her approval evident in her smile. ‘Newlyweds deserve something a little special.’

      Faith felt the colour pour into her cheeks. Just what did Raul’s staff know about the last few weeks? Had they guessed about the state of their marriage?

      Clearly keen to leave them alone, Maria said something else in Spanish to Raul and then left the Beach House, closing the door behind her.

      Faith glanced around her, her mouth dry. ‘You asked for this?’

      ‘To prove that I am capable of being thoughtful,’ he drawled softly, reaching for the bottle of champagne and tugging out the cork.

      Faith was on the verge of pointing out the fact that she would have preferred a conversation, but decided that this wasn’t the time to dent the atmosphere.

      ‘What do your staff know about the last few weeks?’

      ‘I have no idea.’ Raul poured the glistening liquid into two glasses. ‘I’m not in the habit of discussing my personal life with the staff.’

      ‘Well, you must have given them some explanation for the fact we haven’t been living here.’

      ‘Why?’ Genuinely puzzled by her question, Raul unbuttoned his shirt and walked towards the bedroom. ‘I have no idea what they think and I couldn’t care less. And neither should you.’

      They were so different, Faith thought helplessly, watching as he slid the shirt from his shoulders. ‘Actually I do care what they think,’ she muttered and he gave a wolfish smile.

      ‘Then learn not to, because most people in this world are not that generous-spirited. If you really want to know, they’re thinking you’re obviously extremely hot in bed or there is no way you’d be wearing that ring on your finger.’

      She flushed to the roots of her hair. ‘Oh.’

      His smile widened and he walked into the bedroom without giving her a chance to respond and she stared after him with exasperation.

      There was so much that they still needed to talk about.

      So much that she needed to know. ‘Raul?’ She followed him into the bedroom. ‘We can’t carry on like this. The past few days, you’ve been driving yourself into the ground, working until you’re ready to drop. I don’t know whether it’s pressure of your business or whether you’re just avoiding this thing between us, but we have to talk. Not rows and accusations, but really talk. It isn’t going to go away and we can’t just pretend it never happened.’

      He stilled. Then he turned slowly and their eyes locked.

      And that one, powerful, sizzling look was all it took.

      Her stomach knotted with almost unbearable tension and she felt every nerve ending in her body tingle and buzz with shocking awareness. Her breasts tightened and deep in her stomach something burned, hot and dangerous as desire engulfed her.

      He felt it too, she knew he did because she saw the betraying glitter in his sexy, dark eyes and the sudden flare of colour on his high cheekbones.

      The attraction enveloped them like an invisible force, burning everything in its path like a forest fire, drawing them relentlessly towards an outcome that both of them had been fiercely resisting.

      He strode back towards her and pushed her back against the wall. His body trapped hers as he took her face in his hands, forcing her to meet his burning gaze.

      ‘I think we’re way past talking, Faith,’ he said huskily, all sexually confident male as his thumb traced a sensual path across her cheek. ‘All we’ve done for the past few days is talk and it’s been driving me crazy.’

      ‘But we haven’t solved anything,’ Faith gasped, turning her head to try and escape his agonisingly skilful touch. But they both knew it was a losing battle.

      ‘Frustrating, isn’t it?’ He gave a harsh laugh and then lowered his head and drew his mouth along the line of her jaw where his thumb had been, sending the heat between them soaring higher still. ‘You think it was easy to let you sleep alone, cariño? You think I found that СКАЧАТЬ