About the Authors

CATHY WILLIAMS can remember reading Mills & Boon books as a teenager, and now that she is writing them she remains an avid fan. For her, there is nothing like creating romantic stories and engaging plots, and each and every book is a new adventure. Cathy lives in London. Her three daughters—Charlotte, Olivia and Emma—have always been, and continue to be, the greatest inspirations in her life.

SUSAN STEPHENS was a professional singer before meeting her husband on the Mediterranean island of Malta. In true Mills & Boon style, they met on Monday, became engaged on Friday and married three months later. Susan enjoys entertaining, travel and going to the theatre. To relax she reads, cooks and plays the piano, and when she’s had enough of relaxing she throws herself off mountains on skis or gallops through the countryside singing loudly.

Also by Cathy Williams

The Secret Sanchez Heir

Bought to Wear the Billionaire’s Ring

Cipriani’s Innocent Captive

Legacy of His Revenge

A Deal for Her Innocence

A Diamond Deal with Her Boss

The Italian’s One-Night Consequence

The Tycoon’s Ultimate Conquest

Contracted for the Spaniard’s Heir

Marriage Bargain with His Innocent

The Italian Titans miniseries

Wearing the De Angelis Ring

The Surprise De Angelis Baby

Also by Susan Stephens

A Diamond for Del Rio’s Housekeeper

The Sicilian’s Defiant Virgin

The Secret Kept from the Greek

A Night of Royal Consequences

The Sheikh’s Shock Child

Pregnant by the Desert King

Hot Brazilian Nights! miniseries

In the Brazilian’s Debt

At the Brazilian’s Command

Brazilian’s Nine Months’ Notice

Back in the Brazilian’s Bed

Passion in Paradise collection

A Scandalous Midnight in Madrid

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Shock Marriage for the Powerful Spaniard & The Greek’s Virgin Temptation

Cathy Williams and Susan Stephens

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-1-474-08822-0

SHOCK MARRIAGE FOR THE POWERFUL SPANIARD & THE GREEK’S VIRGIN TEMPTATION

Shock Marriage for the Powerful Spaniard © 2019 Cathy Williams The Greek’s Virgin Temptation © 2019 Susan Stephens

Published in Great Britain 2019

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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www.millsandboon.co.uk

Version: 2020-03-02

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Shock Marriage for the Powerful Spaniard

Back Cover Text

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

The Greek’s Virgin Temptation

Back Cover Text

Dedication

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

Shock Marriage for the Powerful Spaniard

Cathy Williams

Today she’s a nanny…

Tomorrow the billionaire will make her his bride!

Tycoon Rafael Almirez heads to Argentina with one aim—to find Sofia Suarez, the woman due to inherit the company he’s poised to take over. When he meets the spirited but innocent nanny, Rafael is astounded. As is Sofia when he reveals that she’s an heiress! Rafael confidently proposes a mutually beneficial marriage—it’s a practical business solution! But this Spaniard’s potent need for Sofia is unexpected—and changes everything…

Enjoy the drama of this surprise wedding!

CHAPTER ONE

‘BUT…ANYWAY… I’M glad you’ve come, Rafael. I wasn’t sure whether you would have the time, with this deal you’re working on. The newspapers are full of it. It’s nice that you still can find a window for a dying old man.’

Rafael raised both eyebrows and looked at his godfather wryly.

David Dunmore might look the very soul of benevolence, with his round spectacles and his tufting grey hair and his jolly, might-almost-be-related-to-Father-Christmas appearance, but Rafael knew very well that behind that façade there beat the heart of someone as sharp as a tack and not averse to a little emotional blackmail.

He also knew that his godfather would never have requested his presence if it hadn’t been something urgent. The more convoluted the road he took to get there, the more significant the request would be and right now, after an hour of going round the houses, the size of the favour had increased exponentially.

Rafael relaxed back in his chair, drink in his hand, and braced himself for the long haul.

He hadn’t been to his godfather’s house in a while. At least a couple of months and not since the old man had been confined to bed and climbing the four walls. When they met, they generally met at the old-fashioned gentleman’s club David was a member of where, as he was fond of saying, a chap could hear himself think over a decent whisky and food that hadn’t been tampered with by a celebrity chef. ‘Cabbage and cottage pie—who needs it?’ Rafael would routinely retort, both comfortable in a relationship in which easy familiarity was the offspring of mutual respect and great love.

Rafael had almost forgotten how exquisite this house in Belgravia was, with its graceful proportions and expensive clutter that harked back to a time before minimalism had become the fashion. Soft Persian rugs covered the rich, wooden floor and artefacts from trips abroad jostled with priceless works of art and dainty sculptures.

‘I thought you’d stopped playing the “dying” card,’ he said mildly. ‘After the consultant gave you the all clear and declared you as fit as a fiddle.’

‘What do consultants know?’

‘A lot, considering the years they’ve spent practising medicine. Hillman, as it happens, is top of his field when it comes to dodgy tickers, so it’s fair to say if he’s given you the all clear then the “dying” card is no longer appropriate.’

‘Well, superficially I may look as though I’m on the mend, but you have no idea the sort of stress I’ve been enduring for the past few months.’

The smile dropped from Rafael’s face. ‘Freddy? Throwing his weight around again? Let me take care of the bloody man.’

‘You can’t. You have no pull in my company and threatening him with hell and damnation isn’t going to work. Right now, he can tell that I’ve been mortally wounded. I no longer have the stamina or the interest to go into my offices nearly as much as I used to, and he’s been…making mischief. But you know how it is, Rafael. He is my stepson, for better or for worse, and he’s also a significant shareholder thanks to the divorce settlement. There is nothing I can do about him, but three of my trusted directors have handed in their resignations, and I fear he is systematically going to try and get his cronies in to replace them. Five years ago, I would have had the energy to keep more of an eye on the boy, but…’

He sighed. ‘The old guard are ready to go. They’re just allowing themselves to be pushed out slightly ahead of schedule. But that’s by the by. For the time being. No, I asked you here to discuss something entirely different.’

Rafael said nothing. His antennae were picking up undercurrents swirling beneath the surface. The silence stretched and then, eventually, David Dunmore reached into the old-fashioned briefcase on the walnut coffee table next to him and extracted an envelope.

He leant forward, handed it to Rafael and then sat back, linking fingers on his protruding stomach to watch his godson with keen interest.

‘What’s this?’

‘Read it.’

Rafael met his godfather’s steady gaze, his dark eyes veiled, revealing nothing of the sudden cool chill of apprehension sweeping through him. He opened the envelope. One sheet of paper. It was almost a shock to see that it was a handwritten letter because nowadays nearly everyone communicated by email. The writing was decisive, indicating someone with a strong will, and loopy, indicating that its author was probably a woman.

He felt his godfather’s eyes on him, and knew that a response was going to be required, but as he read the letter, then reread it for good measure, for once in his life Rafael found himself at a complete loss for words.

‘I know you’re probably a little surprised at the content.’

‘A little surprised? That’s the understatement of the century! When did this bombshell drop on your lap and how much is it going to cost you?’

‘Now, now, don’t jump to conclusions, Rafael. First of all, it’s true.’ David sighed and sat back and closed his eyes for a few seconds, then he looked at his godson. ‘I met Maria Suarez over twenty years ago when I was in my late forties. She was just twenty-six and the most beautiful woman I’d ever laid eyes on. At the time, I was between wives.’ He grimaced. ‘Shelling out a small fortune in alimony to Fiona and pretty jaded when it came to the opposite sex. Maria was…a breath of fresh air.’

‘Okay,’ Rafael said crisply. ‘Before you start waxing lyrical about beautiful women and breaths of fresh air, David, let’s cut to the chase.’ The urge to protect—a primal force that harked back down the years to a time when this man sitting in front of him had been his safe harbour in turbulent waters—kicked into gear with a vengeance.

‘This woman, if it even is her, gets in touch with you to tell you that you have a long-lost kid on the other side of the world. Says she’s about to kick the bucket and her conscience has got the better of her.’ He clicked his tongue with rampant disbelief. ‘Question—how does she know where you live? And presumably, if she knows where you live, then she also knows how wealthy you are.’

David shifted uncomfortably and shot his godson a jaundiced look.

‘How did you meet her?’

Long-lost daughter…? Presumably as poor as a church mouse…? In need of some cash…? And that was if there was any daughter at all and if the mysterious letter-writer was who she claimed to be! Could this tender and touching story have any more holes?

And, if his godfather was inclined to believe all this tosh, then it was up to Rafael to rescue him from his folly. There was no way he was going to allow any more potential gold-diggers to run roughshod over him and the ‘prodigal daughter’ angle was just the sort of cunning ploy his godfather would fall for. Was falling for, from the looks of it.

‘I was in Argentina all those years ago,’ David reflected with the sort of wistful expression that made Rafael want to grind his teeth together in frustration. ‘Out there for a year, sourcing locations for my flagship South American boutique hotels, introducing them to the concept of the eco hotel. Met her when I was there. My word, what a raven-haired beauty. As sweet-natured as it was possible to be. I fell head over heels in love with her.’

‘But no happy ending.’ Rafael yanked him back to reality. ‘Considering you returned to London and promptly married Ingrid and kissed sweet goodbye to yet another sizeable chunk of your assets when you divorced her—not to mention bidding farewell to the shares in the company which your dear stepson is intent on taking over.’ He sighed. ‘And you still haven’t answered my question. How does this woman, if she is who she claims to be, know where you live?’

‘She could easily have contacted me via any one of my hotels—and let’s not forget the Internet, dear boy. There’s no such thing as privacy any more.’

‘And yet here you are. No raven-haired beauty to be seen for miles and never has been. So what happened?’

‘I was called away on an urgent family matter. Had to leave without warning, practically in the dead of night. Mother had been rushed to hospital with a heart attack. Left a message with Antonio, who was my right-hand guy over there at the time. Told him to explain… Well, got back and she’d absconded. Turned out she felt she wasn’t good enough for me, that our worlds were too far apart, felt that she would end up holding me back—even though I never, not once, gave any hint that that was or ever would be the case. Obviously didn’t feel as strongly about me as I felt about her. Wasn’t prepared to give it a go. It broke my heart, Rafael. Broke my heart.’

‘Worlds too far apart…hmm. And her world was…?’

‘She worked as the chambermaid in the hotel where I was based while I oversaw work on my buildings. She was the love of my life, Rafael, and now…now, from nowhere… I receive this letter telling me that I have a daughter. My own flesh and blood.’

Rafael didn’t say anything. Chambermaid? Had his godfather really thought that he could hitch his wagon to someone who worked as a chambermaid? Not that a chambermaid could have been any worse than the horror with whom he had eventually tied the knot, an Amazonian Swede who had taken him for everything she could get her hands on when, three years post-walking up the aisle, the marriage had fallen apart in a welter of acrimony and infidelity on her part. Not only had she left with a juicy injection of cash and three houses, but she’d also managed to wangle a tasty chunk of shares for her useless son. His godfather was still paying the price for that particular mad dash down the aisle in search of love.

‘I’m filling in the blanks,’ David continued, voice rising in direct proportion to his excitement now that the cat was out of the bag. ‘I think she ran away, just disappeared, but returned to her place of birth at some point because that’s where the girl is. Working as a nanny for an expat couple in the suburbs.’

Rafael didn’t say anything because he didn’t know where this was leading. Eventually, he asked neutrally, ‘Have you had a DNA test done?’

David bristled. ‘The timing works.’

‘Don’t believe what you want to believe.’

‘And I won’t approach the situation ready to assume that it’s dead in the water before it’s begun.’

‘Okay.’ Rafael sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. ‘So have you contacted the woman? The daughter?’

‘Maria has passed away.’ His eyes clouded. ‘That much I do know. I’ve naturally set in motion the standard enquiries. I’ve got sufficient information at my disposal to contact my daughter and I’ve had enough time to figure out…the way forward when it comes to doing that.’

‘Long-haul flight to Argentina?’ Rafael looked at his godfather, whose head was tilted to one side while his mind played with the abundance of revelations that unexpectedly had been dumped on his plate. ‘You’ll have to check with the consultant. You don’t need another heart scare.’ Something inside twisted at the thought of that, a mixture of fear and panic.

‘It was more than a scare!’

‘Tell me why I’m here, David,’ Rafael coaxed gently. ‘As a confidante to this information or for some other purpose?’

‘I can’t go to Argentina—but you can, my dear boy, and you must.’ He sat forward, as serious as Rafael had ever seen him ‘I’ll make it worth your while…’

Sofia Suarez impatiently tapped her foot and stared out towards the imposing wrought-iron gates that protected the owners of this fabulous property from any strays who might decide to drop in to see whether they might be in luck with handouts.

In this exclusive enclave on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, the wealthy always made sure that they were well protected, rarely opening their doors to anyone they didn’t know.

They had enough money to make sure that hired help took care of whatever they considered beneath them. Which, she thought now—tapping her foot ever-quicker and checking her watch—was why she was here, waiting for the appearance of a gardener who should have showed up an hour and a half earlier.

James and Elizabeth Walters were off skiing with their two young children.

‘No idea why we’ve been landed with this gardener chap when I’ve been perfectly happy getting a team in once a week,’ James had complained to her a week earlier, when he had appeared in the doorway of her bedroom without any advance warning. ‘But my boss has asked me to take the man on as a favour for a friend in London. Anyway, Lizzy and I won’t be around, so you’re going to have to show him the ropes.’

‘Yes, of course, although you did say that this would be allotted holiday time for me,’ Sofia had said, taking a deep breath and counting to ten. James and Elizabeth Walters were very, very fond of dictating exactly what she did with her free time, even though her hours were clearly stated in the job-acceptance form she had signed a year ago.

But she needed this job. The pay was fantastic and she had paid upfront for her online accountancy course. It hadn’t been cheap and, added to that the fact that she tried to help out financially with her aunt, well, unless she won the lottery she was pretty much stuck. Someone in debt was not someone holding any trump cards.

‘We were more than understanding when you had to interrupt your working hours to visit your mother in the hospital,’ her boss had retorted without batting an eyelid. ‘So, grounds for complaint? Don’t think so. We’re going to be gone for a fortnight. You’re going to be twiddling your thumbs, and getting damn well paid for it, so I don’t see where the problem is.’

He had raked his eyes over her in that insolent way that bordered on sexual harassment and stared narrowly. ‘The man is only going to be here for a month at the most. Some nonsense about him needing money while he bums his way around South America. God only knows why these types don’t find decent jobs like everyone else but I have no choice in the matter.’

He’d straightened and stared at her for a few seconds longer than was comfortable and Sofia had done what she always did when her boss made her feel uncomfortable—she gritted her teeth and stared down silently at the floor until he lost interest.

Which he had, having reminded her of the thousand other things she was charged to do in their absence, from sorting out the gardener to cleaning the proverbial silverware. So, twiddling her thumbs? What a joke. That was the one thing she could never be accused of having done and certainly not when she was staring at a list of instructions.

The blazing sun was sinking into a violet sky when, finally, the intercom went and a disembodied voice announced the arrival of the gardener.

‘You’re late,’ Sofia said, not bothering to mince her words. The man had spoken in English and she had replied in same. A nomadic life had made her fluent in it and it helped that the people currently employing her refused to speak Spanish. ‘I’ve been hanging around waiting for you to show up for the past two hours.’

She could scarcely make out the figure on the visual display. She was keen to get him in and out of her way because she had a busy evening lined up with her accountancy books. It was hard enough finding the time to study without wasting precious hours with her ear to the buzzer.

‘Who am I talking to?’

‘This is Señorita Suarez and I’m to show you the ropes while the Walters are away.’ There was a brief pause, and for some reason Sofia felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, but the moment passed—to be replaced with mounting irritation, because a minute in and the man was already beginning to get on her nerves.

‘Are you going to let me in?’

Sofia bristled. ‘I will need to ask you some security questions.’

‘Why?’

‘Excuse me?’

‘Why?’ Rafael repeated.

Sofia looked around her at the massively expensive furnishings. ‘El señor de la casa,’ she intoned with saccharin sweetness, ‘is a little cautious when it comes to allowing strangers into his house. He’s fond of his possessions remaining on the premises.’

‘El señor,’ Rafael drawled in response, ‘has nothing to fear. I very much doubt there’s a single thing he possesses that I could possibly want.’ He held up the introductory letter David had handed over to him some days ago. He had barely been able to contain his amusement at the thought of his high-powered and much-feared godson slumming it with a lawn mower and taking orders from someone he didn’t know. ‘Peer carefully and you’ll be able to see that I am exactly who I say I am. Name is Rafael and I’m here to look after el señor’s garden for a couple of weeks. Rest assured, I won’t be leaving with his lawn mower and the pruning shears.’

‘You’re Spanish?’

‘So it would seem. Now, open the gate. I’ve spent hours travelling. It’s been a hellish trip. I’m hot and tired and I’m not prepared to spend the next half an hour sweltering out here while I answer pointless questions that don’t need to be asked.’

Sofia could scarcely believe what she was hearing. For one very wicked moment, she almost wished that James and his stuck-up wife were here so that they could experience a cocky, arrogant hired hand who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind.

But they weren’t, because they were busy having fun on the slopes. No, she was here, working, as always, beyond her brief. She buzzed open the iron gates and waited until she heard the sharp ring of the doorbell, immediately followed by the thundering of the lion-head brass knocker, as though the man outside couldn’t wait the seconds it might take her to answer the door.

She sprinted and yanked open the front door, letting in the fragrant smell of grass and trees and the soothing orchestra of twilight insects, and then stopped dead in her tracks.

Just for a few seconds. Just as she registered the guy towering in front of her, his hand raised as though about to bang the knocker again.

Drop-dead gorgeous. The breath left her in a whoosh, as though she’d been punched in the stomach. Her eyes widened and she instantly went into self-defence mode, taking one step back, arms folded, although this time, unlike when her boss turned lascivious eyes on her, it was for an entirely different reason.

This time it was because the sudden bloom of sexual awareness shocked her.

She wanted to stare and just keep on staring. His black hair was slightly too long and swept back from a face that was chiselled to the sort of perfection no camera could ever fully capture. Midnight-dark eyes were fringed with lush dark lashes, his nose was aquiline and his mouth wide and crazily sensual. Every single thing about the man emanated the sort of fierce, aggressive sex appeal that made her heart beat a little faster and sent liquid heat pooling between her thighs, dampening her underwear.

It was an immediate reaction that infuriated her because Sofia knew that she should know better.

From the age of thirteen she had known what it felt like to be the unwilling object of attention from the opposite sex. She had fought off unwanted, uninvited advances and then, when she’d been fifteen, one advance in particular from a married friend of her mother’s had made her realise that her looks weren’t a blessing in disguise. They were a curse.

Since then, she had been at pains to guard herself against men, holding out for ‘the one’ but not caring all that much if ‘the one’ never came her way—just knowing that she would never, ever sell herself short or settle for anything less than what she thought she deserved.

And she would certainly never allow looks to define her the way they had her mother.

‘You’d better come in,’ she said, a little more sharply than she’d intended. She stood back and the guy brushed past her. And there it went again…that tingle of sexual awareness that seemed to bypass all her natural defence systems.

She inched back when, having surveyed the impressive hall, he spun round to look at her.

‘Where are they?’

‘Who?’

‘The Walters. Where are they? Shouldn’t they be here to meet and greet?’

Sofia was torn between marvelling at the sheer audacity of the man and bristling at his arrogance.

He was looking at her, his dark eyes veiled and lazily assessing.

‘I don’t think they were planning on deferring their skiing holiday to give the temporary gardener the red-carpet treatment.’

‘Nice house.’

‘Is that all you’ve brought with you by way of luggage?’ She eyed the battered hold-all.

Rafael shrugged. ‘I like to travel light.’

‘Can I get something for you to drink? Eat?’

‘Is that your job here? Housekeeper?’

Rafael knew exactly what the woman did. In fact, he knew a great deal more about her than she ever could have imagined, because he had done some extensive background checks himself. His godfather might have had romantic notions of destiny throwing a daughter his way. Rafael was a little less trusting on that front.

The one thing he hadn’t known was just quite how stunning she would be in the flesh. Long, dark, curling hair was carelessly tied back. Her skin was the colour of pale coffee and as smooth as silk and her eyes were vivid green, densely lashed and almond-shaped.

Not exactly the meek and mild goody-two-shoes his godfather was doubtless hoping for. Wasn’t life full of surprises?

‘I’m the nanny.’ Sofia stuck out her chin at a defiant angle. She was a nanny, and she wasn’t ashamed of that, but in her heart she could have been so much more. However, a chequered background that involved far too much moving around had wreaked havoc with her education.

Hopes for a rewarding career had died a slow death over the years, because doors never opened for someone with a patchy academic record. Yes, she was making up for lost time now, but it wasn’t going to happen overnight, and meanwhile…

‘Does the nanny have a name?’

‘Sofia. Sofia Suarez. You never said—do you want anything to eat or drink? Naturally, I cannot raid the liquor cabinet to offer you anything alcoholic, but tea? Coffee? I could make you a sandwich.’

‘Nothing alcoholic? In that case, I’ll forgo the tea and coffee for some water, and a sandwich would be good.’ He strolled through the kitchen. Big kitchen. Big house. Expensive people leading an expensive lifestyle.

‘Please don’t touch anything,’ she said anxiously from behind him as he began opening drawers. Rafael slowly turned to look at her.

‘If they’ve left you in charge here, they must expect you to open drawers and cupboards.’

‘Of course, but…’ Slow, hot colour crept into her cheeks.

‘But you’re the nanny and, when it comes to pecking order, the nanny ranks higher than the gardener?’

‘You don’t look like a gardener,’ Sofia said, changing the subject and turning her back to him as she expertly began making him a ham and cheese sandwich, which was exactly what she had had for her lunch. She hadn’t yet had dinner but somehow breaking bread with this dark, arrogant man sent a trickle of cold apprehension racing up and down her spine.

Rafael grunted, watching and appreciating the length of her limbs, the willowy suppleness of her body, the innate grace with which she carried herself.

‘You need to check her out,’ his godfather had said urgently. ‘I know I’m harbouring romantic notions of this young lady, but I’m no fool. I don’t know what she’s like, what sort of character she has. My dear boy, it would mean so much to me if you could check her out, but incognito. She must have no idea of the vast fortune that could be hers, as I wouldn’t want that to influence her responses.

‘To be blunt, I wouldn’t want her to edit her personality to appeal. I would hope for someone kind, considerate, smart…and if she’s not, well, a bridge to be crossed but not yet. Check her out—that’s number one. And then…here’s the sweetener to the deal if you take this on, my dear boy…my company. All my shares. You can move in and troubleshoot my stepson back into place. With my own flesh and blood in place, rightfully there, and you by her side at the helm, all my worries would end. You have said yourself that your own empire virtually runs itself. It’s time you found a new challenge.’

Rafael had no need for his godfather’s shares, although the leisure business would certainly be a healthy addition to his own vast portfolio. No, what motivated him went beyond anything tangible. The bottom line was that David had been there for him, mentor and friend, during all those long years when his own parents had jumped ship to do their own thing. His earliest memories of happiness didn’t involve his parents. They involved his godfather. Without him, his life would have lacked all structure, and God only knew where he would have ended up. David was the only human being Rafael actually loved and there was no request he would ever have turned down. The handover of shares, which would enable him to sort out the problem with Freddy, was icing on the cake.

‘Have you…um…?’ Sofia found that she was flustered and distracted by the play of muscle and sinew just visible beneath the old T-shirt and faded jeans as he strolled to sit at the kitchen table, a vast affair fashioned out of glass and chrome and hideously unsuitable for anyone with kids.

‘Have I…um…what?’

‘Been a gardener for long,’ Sofia said with strained politeness as her disobedient eyes fastened onto his lean, beautiful face, only to skitter away in alarm because she never stared at any man. It just wasn’t her thing. Least of all an over-the-top-good-looking one like this because, in her experience, good-looking always signalled trouble.

Just like that, he looked up, their eyes tangled and for a few seconds she found that she couldn’t breathe.

‘It’s a burgeoning career,’ Rafael said vaguely. ‘And, on the subject of people not looking the part, you look nothing like a nanny.’

Sofia stiffened, wondered whether this was going to be the start of the flirting game. He was going to be stationed in the annex by the pool. Coming as he did by word of mouth, she doubted that he would prove any kind of threat, but he could prove a nuisance, and she was going to be here on her own with him.

‘Do you have a lot of experience of nannies?’ she asked courteously. ‘Maybe you expect me to be older? Perhaps with a wart or two on my chin?’

‘We could have conversed in Spanish but I am more comfortable speaking English and you’ve answered in kind. You’re bilingual. Not what I would have expected.’ Rafael pushed away his empty plate and then relaxed back with his hands behind his head. ‘Now that we’re on the subject of expectations.’

‘You’re finished eating. I think I should show you where you’ll be staying. Like you said, you’re hot and tired.’

‘Is that your way of telling me that you don’t want me asking any more questions?’

Sofia shrugged and didn’t bother to beat about the bush. ‘I suppose it is.’

Rafael didn’t budge. He was here on a mission. The sooner he got the job done, the quicker he would be able to dump this ridiculous charade of being a gardener. The closest he’d ever got to gardening was the book he’d bought the day before he left London. He’d speed-read a few pages. How hard could it be to turn over some soil and run a lawn mower over a lawn? But, still, he didn’t want to hang around.

But first he had to get past whatever defences this woman had erected and suss her out.

More than that. If she passed the litmus test…

His dark eyes roved lazily over her. Graceful as a gazelle and just as skittish…

‘What’s it like, working here?’ He chose to prolong the conversation.

Sofia clicked her tongue in annoyance. ‘I thought you were tired. If I show you to your quarters, you can get an early night, and tomorrow I have a list of what you need to do.’

‘I’ve never been a fan of early nights. What other languages do you speak?’

‘What others do you?’

‘French. Spanish. Italian. Some Mandarin. A sprinkling of a few others…’

‘Very unusual for a gardener,’ Sofia said tartly and Rafael laughed under his breath.

‘Touché. I learnt them on the various jobs I’ve had over the years. I also have a curious mind and, face it, if people are conversing in a foreign language around you then you need to understand what they’re saying, as far as I am concerned. What about you?’

Sofia hesitated. She rarely got the chance to talk to guys. When she wasn’t working, she was studying, looking ahead to a brighter future.

Guys and dating didn’t feature in her calendar, not at this point in time.

But having this good-looking man here in the kitchen, asking her about herself…

She could feel her guard drop a little. The man was going to be around until James and Elizabeth returned with the kids and chances were that they would be thrown into each other’s company frequently. Life would be easier if she opened up a little.

And he was so damned good-looking, so darkly, sinfully spectacular, and he didn’t make her feel…threatened.

She was far too practical for a guy like him to get to her, but he was brilliant eye-candy, and it wouldn’t hurt to give a little. At least converse.

‘I… I spent a great deal of my life on the move,’ she volunteered hesitantly. She sat opposite him and propped her hand under her chin. ‘My mother and I actually used to live in this part of the world, and we returned here eventually, but in the interim life was spent with suitcases at the ready.’

‘That so? Why? It’s a beautiful area…just the sort of place made for roots being put down.’

Sofia shrugged. There was only so far she was prepared to go sharing confidences with a complete stranger, however compelling his attentiveness was. ‘At any rate, we moved about a bit, here and there. Long story, and frankly none of your business. I picked up English from some of the people we met along the way and made sure to practise whenever I could. I’ve always been good at languages.’

And libraries had such huge choice when it came to audio-learning. Wherever and whenever, she’d made the local library her first port of call. In a life of constant moving, libraries had become safe havens, places of stillness and peace. There was a big world out there and she would need to be fluent in English to navigate it successfully. One day.

‘And your mother? Where is she now?’

Sofia glanced away. ‘She died a few months ago. But she’d been ill for a couple of years prior to that. If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not talk about that.’ She stood up and smiled politely. ‘I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.’

Rafael vaulted upright. As he came to stand behind her, once again Sofia was intensely aware of his physicality.

At five-ten, she was tall, but he was several inches taller and something about his height, his muscularity, his lazy, masculine magnetism, made her feel feminine and girlish and nothing like the woman with her head firmly screwed on who was determined to control the outcome of her life because she had never had much control over the experiences of her past.

She’d moved from her home in Argentina to another and another before her mother had decided that settling down with an American tourist who had been backpacking through South America at the time might be a good idea. He had been ten years her junior and as responsible as a toddler. The marriage had lasted a year and a half, at which point he had disappeared back to his home in Florida, and they had upped sticks and headed in the opposite direction.

Story of her mother’s life. Pregnant by an older man who had dumped her, breaking her heart in the process, from there on she had launched herself into a career of making the most of her good looks, which had never faded over time.

But that had all changed when, after years spent abroad, they had returned to her mother’s home town where she had spent her final years being cared for by her sister, old friends who had rallied together and, of course, her daughter.

She wondered what this guy would make of her convoluted life history. He had landed here, roving gardener, so he must love moving around, never standing still, the very things she had come to loathe. They couldn’t be more different and yet the urge to confide was so strong that it was scary.

‘If you’re ready?’ She eyed his bag and moved towards the door. ‘I have things to do…’ She glanced away from dark, speculative eyes that were a little too interested for her liking.

So darkly, dangerously sexy…

For a fleeting second she wondered… What is he really doing here…?

CHAPTER TWO

‘NICE PLACE,’ RAFAEL said neutrally as they headed out of the house, swinging round to the back, away from the main lodgings.

Night had gathered around them and Rafael had morphed into a tall, dark shadow, his gait loose-limbed and oddly graceful for a man of his size.

Sofia was accustomed to the size of the mansion where she worked, as well as to the several acres of manicured lawns surrounding the house.

‘It’s very big,’ she agreed, breathing in the fragranced air and making sure to keep some distance between them. It was cooler now, with a whispery breeze that lifted her hair and blew tendrils away from her face.

‘Enjoy working here?’

‘That’s where you’ll be staying. Straight ahead. It’s entirely self-contained, so there will be no need for you to come to the main house.’

‘Unless I want to.’

Sofia shivered and hugged herself. She had picked up something in that low, lazy drawl but then, when she thought about it, she wondered whether it wasn’t her imagination playing tricks on her.

‘Have you been to this part of the world before?’

‘This particular country has passed me by,’ Rafael murmured.

‘In that case, I can tell you where you need to go to buy…err…food or whatever else you might need.’

‘Or you could show me.’

Sofia didn’t say anything. Was this a come-on? It sounded like one but it didn’t feel like one because his drawl was lazy and mildly amused. None of that skin-crawling invasion of her privacy and space that always alerted her to a man on the make.

She thought back to all those years ago and to one of those men on the make, but she had just been a kid of fifteen and he had been old enough to be her father—a friend of a friend of her mother’s, drunk at a house party, one of the few her mother had ever had. She remembered the terror of her bedroom door slowly being pushed open and the fear when she had worked out why he had crept into the room.

Sofia knew that she might not have had the strength to fight him off and that he had only scarpered because a couple had stumbled up the stairs, opening doors in search of the upstairs bathroom. They had spooked the guy out of the bedroom because, drunk as he was, he’d still known what the fallout would be if he were to be caught. She’d been saved by the bell but it had been a sharp learning curve for her. Be wary had become the motto branded at the back of her brain, and she had lived her life accordingly.

Four years later, when she had made the mistake of falling for a boy her own age—only to discover that she had been the object of a bet as to whether he could get the hot chick into bed inside a month—‘be wary’ had become ‘stay away’.

She was disturbed that these wayward memories had jumped out of her without warning because she’d always thought that they were buried and forgotten.

She slid her eyes sideways. He wasn’t looking at her. He was frowning and staring at the grand quarters they were approaching, usually used as guest quarters for overspill at parties. James had decided that it would do for the gardener, possibly because it would have been unthinkable to accommodate him in the main house. A gardener roaming through their luxury villa and making himself at home in their kitchen would never have done.

Sofia stuck the key in the lock and stood back so that he could precede her into the two-bedroomed dwelling. She switched on all the lights and watched as he strolled around for a few seconds before heading off in the direction of the kitchen, having tossed his battered hold-all on the ground by the staircase.

She followed. The housekeeper had tidied the place but it felt stuffy and airless.

‘Who usually uses this?’ He appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and lounged indolently against the doorframe, looking at her with his head tilted to one side.

‘Overnight guests. If the big house is full.’ He was so breathtakingly beautiful that she couldn’t help but stare at him. It was almost too much of a mammoth effort to look away.

‘I’m surprised they didn’t choose to stick you in here,’ he mused, spinning around and then heading straight for the kitchen cupboards, which he proceeded to open and close. ‘The very least they could have done was to equip me with a few essentials.’

Sofia gasped and then burst out laughing, surprising herself as much as it seemed to surprise Rafael. Laughing with a guy, any guy, wasn’t something she could remember having done in years.

‘Share the joke?’ He raised both eyebrows and her outburst of laughter subsided into a wicked grin.

‘You. You’re so…so…brazen…’

‘Explain.’ But he was smiling crookedly back at her, his dark eyes unreadable.

‘You don’t seem at all grateful to be here.’

‘Why should I be grateful?’

‘Well, I gather from the Walters that they were more or less put in a position where they had to give you this gardening job for a month. It’s a really cushy number.’ She glanced around her at the luxurious accommodation. ‘And most people would be over the moon to have this place to stay.’

‘I’m not most people,’ Rafael said. ‘You’ll figure that out soon enough.’ He paused but kept his fabulous eyes pinned to her face, which made her colour rise further and made her heart flutter a little more furiously in her chest.

‘Well, upstairs is self-explanatory. Two bedrooms and there’s linen in the cupboard on the landing.’

‘You still haven’t told me why you don’t stay out here.’

‘I…the Walters… James and Elizabeth think it’s more convenient for me to be at hand. You know…close to the kids.’

‘Actually, I don’t know.’ He began heading up the stairs and for a few seconds Sofia wasn’t sure whether he actually expected her to traipse along in his wake or not. She had shown him the lodge, she’d done what she had to do, and in the morning she would show him the list of stuff she had been given for him to start on. Elizabeth kept a vigilant eye on the garden but messages were always relayed via her husband to the team that came weekly to prune, trim, plant and uproot. He was officious in his dealings with them. He wouldn’t be winning any popularity contests with his employees any time soon. He’d had no choice but to house this outrageous stranger but he had made sure to leave two A4 sheets of paper full of detailed instructions.

‘What do you mean?’ She roused herself from her ruminations and found herself following him up the stairs, stopping short as he pushed open one of the bedroom doors, before spinning around to look at her through narrowed eyes.

‘I mean,’ Rafael said slowly, ‘By having you on tap, well, does that mean that you don’t get any time off?’

‘No, well…’ Flustered, Sofia met his dark, speculative gaze, vibrant green eyes clashing with dark, fathomless ones. ‘They do go out quite a bit and it’s just more convenient for me to be there rather than having to decamp all the time when I need to babysit.’

‘And do you get paid extra for all this babysitting? Hefty price for being on permanent stand by?’

‘Why are you asking me all these questions?’ she threw at him, uncomfortable because he was voicing the very resentments that had piled up inside her over the months. The job was extremely well paid but in return…

She needed the money. That was the bottom line. She had debts and nothing had been left when her mother had died. She had returned to ground zero after a long spell away with not much to show for it. One child, one divorce, any number of relationships that had ended up nowhere and only just enough money made over the years to ensure that her mother had enough for tickets back to base camp and sufficient cash as a down payment on a rented condo on the outskirts of Buenos Aires, close to where her sister lived.

Sofia had not had the opportunity to do any saving of her own and this nanny job was well paid—their luck with nannies hadn’t been stellar, from what Elizabeth Walters had let slip, and Sofia wondered whether they’d set this sort of honey trap to ensure she wasn’t tempted to quit.

‘I’m a curious kind of guy,’ Rafael said mildly, watching her carefully. So carefully that she began to fidget. ‘Stay a while,’ he coaxed, strolling out of the room, his demeanour that of lord rather than serf. He glanced over his shoulder as she followed like a puppet, which was not like her at all. ‘I’m new to this country. I don’t know a soul. It would be nice for me to have some company this evening, if only to learn a little about the place, so that I can familiarise myself better with it when I get out there to explore.’

‘You’re here to pull up weeds and plant shrubs, not explore,’ Sofia reminded him, but she felt that tug of amusement again. He was so high-handed that it should have put her back up, but strangely it didn’t.

Where she had spent her life trying hard to stay under the radar—partly to deter the advances of lecherous men and partly because she was so focused on her future that she knew that, at least for her, diplomacy was definitely the better part of valour—he was the opposite. Oil to her water, chalk to her cheese, darkness to her light.

She shivered, wondering whether the strange pull she felt tugging her towards him stemmed from the fascination she felt when confronted with her polar opposite or whether she wasn’t just lonely.

Rafael shrugged. ‘And I’m sure I’ll be doing just that but I don’t intend to come all the way out here and leave…empty-handed.’

‘What does that mean?’ Sofia questioned.

‘It means that this is a beautiful part of the world and I won’t be burying myself in somebody’s back garden pulling up weeds without taking some time out to surface.’

‘I don’t think James Walters is going to appreciate your sense of adventure.’

Rafael shrugged.

‘Don’t you care?’ Sofia asked curiously.

‘Why should I?’

‘Because you could end up with a poor reference. Mr Walters would enjoy nothing better.’ She blushed a bright red. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.’

‘But you did.’ He began heading out of the lodge and back towards the main house, and Sofia was struck yet again by the man’s arrogant assumption that he could do whatever he wanted, safe in the knowledge that no one was going to object. In this instance, the ‘no one’ just happened to be her. She’d already walked him to the lodge, and left him in no doubt that she wasn’t interested in his company, yet he had decided to ignore her completely. She belatedly remembered how keen she had been to be rid of him and how annoyed she’d been at his late arrival.

‘You don’t like the man, do you?’ he remarked casually without looking around, throwing it over his shoulder as an aside.

‘I never said that!’

‘I’m good at reading what people choose not to say. In fact…’ He stopped dead in his tracks and stared down at her thoughtfully. ‘I’d say a person can learn more about someone from what they choose to keep secret. If you don’t like working for these people, then why do you?’

‘Why do you think?’ Sofia asked tartly. ‘For the same reason you’re here! The money. Look, don’t you have stuff to do? Unpack? Touch base with your friends and relatives to tell them that you’ve arrived safe and sound?’

‘I don’t have much to unpack and notifying friends and relatives can wait. I’ll have that cup of coffee you offered earlier. If you feel guilty about doing something in the big house that doesn’t involve working for them and obeying orders even when they’re not around, then you can fill in some time by telling me what they want me to do around here. Although I’m sure there’s a helpful list as long as my arm.’

‘One coffee…’

‘I get it. Then you have things to do.’

This time, he spent a bit longer inspecting the house as they entered. He pushed open doors while Sofia watched, knowing that she should say something but not sure what, because she didn’t think he was going to make off with the family silver.

The guy was dressed in clean but worn clothes, but something about him, some instinct, told her that he was no thief and that he saw nothing wrong with checking out his surroundings.

She wondered whether his bone-deep confidence was born from the fact that he was so spectacularly good-looking, but then she thought about herself and the way her looks had the opposite effect on her, making her timid, cautious and always ready to bolt. Maybe when it came to the lottery of good looks it was different for guys—she didn’t imagine that Rafael would have been hounded by jealous peers and plagued by the wandering hands of women he didn’t want near him, fearful that they might take advantage.

She just knew that he sent shivers of awareness racing up and down her spine.

She made them both a mug of coffee and, because she was hungry again, she fixed herself something to eat, another sandwich, while he looked on, his dark eyes watching her with veiled, lazy interest.

‘Is it because you like kids?’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘The reason why you’re here, working for a couple you don’t respect.’

‘You’re jumping to all sorts of conclusions!’

‘Am I?’

‘I’m not asking you a load of questions.’

‘What would you like to know?’ Rafael murmured softly, leaning back into his chair and angling it so that he could hook his foot under another and scrape it towards him to use it as a footrest.

He folded his hands behind his head and stared at her.

‘How did you manage to wangle the job here?’

‘I have a few connections. Does it matter?’

‘I don’t suppose so…’

‘You never answered my question about whether you worked here because you liked kids. Do you have any siblings?’ Again, another question. Rafael already knew the answer but he had been tasked with finding out about the woman, and he intended to do so just whatever way he chose. An evasion here…a little white lie there…so many things could unlock the secret of a person’s personality, and when a fortune was at stake unlocking her personality was more than just a technicality.

‘No.’ Sofia hesitated and her cut-glass green eyes clouded over. ‘I’m an only child. My mother…fell in love with some old guy when she was in her twenties.’

‘Some old guy?’

‘Well, my father, as it happens, who was much older than her.’ Sofia grimaced. ‘She didn’t like talking about it. In fact, she didn’t for most of my life, but then when she got ill she began opening up a bit more…’

Rafael was watching her carefully. ‘So where is he now?’

‘Who knows? It didn’t last.’

‘Why not?’

‘It doesn’t matter. It ended because that’s the way most relationships go. They end.’

‘You’re very jaded for someone as young as you are. Why? And did you ever want to find out about…the old guy?’

‘Why should I?’ Her eyes flashed sudden, blazing anger.

Rafael shrugged. ‘Curiosity?’

‘I’m too busy trying to get on with living my life to be curious about anyone or anything,’ Sofia muttered.

‘That’s a lie.’

‘What?’

‘You’re lying. You’re curious about me. I can see it on your face and hear it in your voice.’

‘You’re incredibly egotistic!’

‘I’m curious about you as well. You’re not travelling down a one-way street, Sofia…’

The suddenly charged silence that followed his remark stretched and stretched to breaking point. Rafael vaulted fluidly upright and proceeded to prowl through the kitchen, then he disappeared into the adjoining pantry to reappear with a bottle of wine. He raised both eyebrows at her horrified expression. ‘I’m sure your dictator employers won’t mind if we crack open this bottle of wine to make the time go quicker.’

‘You can’t!’ She released a long breath, confused and addled.

‘Are you going to stop me?’ He hunted down a corkscrew and a couple of crystal glasses and poured. He held out the glass and, after a moment’s hesitation, Sofia took it.

They hadn’t exactly locked the wine away but she’d known, without having to be told, that all alcohol was off-limits for her. She had never had a problem with that because she wasn’t much of a drinker, and she respected the boundaries they had laid down.

But that rebellious streak she hadn’t even known existed sparked into life again, filling her with a sense of wicked daring as she sipped some of the red wine.

‘Don’t worry,’ Rafael murmured, swirling his glass and breathing in the fragrant aroma for a few seconds, appreciating the quality of the grape. ‘I’ll make sure I replace it.’

‘If you plan on drinking any more of this stuff,’ Sofia grimaced, ‘Then you’re going to find that you’ve blown all your earnings before you’ve even done a day’s work in the garden! The Walters are very fussy when it comes to their wines. I have no idea how much this bottle cost but it won’t be cheap.’

‘Which is why you’re terrified of going near that wine fridge?’

‘Drinking isn’t appropriate when you’re looking after children.’

‘And, as you’ve said, you’re on call twenty-four hours a day, every day of the week…’ He strolled towards the huge double-fronted steel grey fridge and stared at drawings that had been attached by magnets to the front, oddly out of place in the vast, modern, clinically pristine surroundings. He un-tacked a photo and peered at it, then he looked at her.

‘This the family?’ He tilted his head to one side and Sofia knew that she was reddening. Her skin felt hot and prickly and there was a throbbing in her temples. Those dark, dark eyes of his were so intense, so penetrating.

‘Yes,’ she replied shortly.

‘Attractive couple. Attractive kids.’

‘Yes. They are.’

‘Younger than I’d imagined, if I’m honest.’

‘Why would you have imagined anything about them?’

‘Unlike you, I don’t pretend to be incurious. It’s natural to wonder about the sort of people you might be stuck with for a couple of weeks.’

‘You act as though you’re doing them a favour!’

‘The man…is very good-looking, wouldn’t you agree?’ Rafael murmured, glancing towards her, keeping his keen gaze pinned to her face.

Sofia tensed, her face tight, and just like that he replaced the photo from where it had been taken, seemingly losing all interest in the conversation.

In her.

Disappointment warred with relief. She looked at the glass of wine in her hand and wondered how she’d ended up straying from the straight and narrow.

‘So what’s keeping you here?’ he asked. ‘Aside from two kids and a pay packet at the end of the month.’

The question temporarily threw her and she looked at him with sudden bewilderment.

‘Isn’t that enough? We all have to earn a living. You’re here, earning a living.’ She cleared her throat, finished her wine and stood up, hot, bothered and so, so conscious of his eyes trained on her face. ‘Anyway, you should…be thinking about heading back to your lodge. You’ll be busy tomorrow.’ She stood up while he remained sitting where he was, long legs stretched out in front of him, lightly holding his glass of wine and idly twirling it before taking a sip.

‘Sit, why don’t you?’ He motioned to the chair and drawled with a ghost of a wry smile, ‘I promise that I’ll leave you in peace when this glass of wine is finished.’

Sofia thought of the empty evening stretching ahead of her and was ashamed to find herself wanting him to hang around. She’d always enjoyed her own company, especially since she’d been working here, because her time was so seldom her own. However, he’d sparked a curious restlessness inside her and the prospect of studying, which had been top of the agenda, seemed dull and boring.

Disobedient eyes slid across to him, to the lazy, ‘Lord of the Manor’ way he sat there, sprawled in the kitchen chair, dominating the space around him.

Fearless. What sort of gardener was he anyway?

She tried to picture him weeding, scrutinising bottles of fertiliser, mowing the lawn and talking to the plants but she couldn’t.

‘Is there someone significant lurking in the background, making all this drudgery worthwhile? He must be very understanding to put up with you being on call twenty-four-seven.’

‘Drudgery? Drudgery? Who do you think you are?’

‘Figure of speech,’ Rafael said unapologetically.

‘I resent that figure of speech!’

‘You’re very attractive but I don’t suppose I’m telling you anything you don’t already know.’

‘That doesn’t mean…it doesn’t mean…’ She was breathless and had to breathe in deeply to stop herself from shaking. ‘That there’s a significant anyone lurking in the background, and even if there was I fail to see what business it might be of yours!’

Rafael didn’t say anything for a few seconds and she found the silence oppressive, like a dense weight pushing down on her, making her want to justify herself.

She thought of her experiences with the opposite sex, the hungry eyes and groping hands that she had always had to bat away. She thought of being the object of a bet, mortified and humiliated at a time when she had been so open to handing over her heart to someone.

Was it any wonder that she felt safest when she was buried behind books, studying and dreaming about an uncomplicated future?

Other girls her age dreamt of guys, dating, engagements and getting married.

She dreamt of being able to take care of herself. When she thought about men, she vaguely had in her head someone unthreatening—dull, even. Someone who would be able to see past the sexy image that was so unlike the girl she was inside and appreciate her for the qualities that weren’t on show.

‘So no boyfriend?’

‘No,’ she said sharply. ‘Not that it’s any of your business.’ She abruptly got to her feet and made a beeline for the folder she had been given with all the detailed instructions for the gardener whom had been foisted upon the Walters.

‘And what about the master of the house?’ Rafael quizzed softly, feeling her out.

Sofia stiffened. It was barely noticeable but he noticed it.

‘What,’ Sofia asked coldly, ‘are you implying?’

‘Sometimes masters of the house can have expectations beyond the call of duty. Sometimes those expectations are met…’

Sofia clenched her fists and took a deep, steadying breath, which didn’t do the trick. He was being provocative. She had no idea why but it wasn’t going to get her anywhere if she allowed her temper to get the better of her. Letting your emotions get the better of you never paid off. Her mother had let her emotions get the better of her. First when she had fallen for a guy who had dumped her, and afterwards when she had let her heart rule her head, always looking for salvation in someone else, always thinking that she could escape disappointment by throwing herself headlong into relationships that had never gone anywhere.

Sofia had adored her fallible mother but had seen the failings and had determined never to be afflicted in the same way.

Letting this complete stranger get to her wasn’t going to work.

‘Not in this case,’ she said through gritted teeth.

‘I didn’t think so,’ Rafael murmured honestly. ‘But there’s something there, isn’t there? What?’

‘Let’s get something straight.’ Sofia was holding on to her temper with difficulty and he wasn’t making it any easier by that all-knowing look on his face, a look which implied that he could read her mind, which of course he couldn’t.

‘What’s that?’

‘You’re here to do a job. I have stuff to do and I won’t be fraternising with you.’

‘Because I ask too many questions?’

‘My personal life is none of your business. Now, I’ll show you to the door. Take the instructions. You might want to read them over before you go to bed. There will be a lot to busy yourself with until James and Elizabeth get back. They’ll expect you to have done everything laid out, right down to pulling up the very last weed in the flower beds.’ She thrust the paper into his hand, and he glanced at it as though only really mildly curious as to the content.

‘Later.’

‘Later? Later?’

Rafael rose to his feet unhurriedly. ‘I’ll be settling in before I start doing any work in someone’s garden.’

‘Settling in?’ she parroted, staggered and still seething at his outrageous implications. For all that, though, she was furiously aware of the keen beating of her heart and the way, for the first time in living memory, she felt alive to someone else, all her senses heightened, her pulses racing, her skin tingling.

Rafael burst out laughing. ‘Oh yes,’ he said in a low, velvety undertone, moving towards the door and dumping the unopened pages of instructions on the kitchen counter en route. ‘I intend to familiarise myself with the place before I go anywhere near a bottle of weed killer or a lawn mower.’

‘You can’t do that.’

‘Will you be trying to stop me?’

‘James… Mr Walters…he can be very short-tempered.’

‘Really?’

Sofia nodded, but she was mesmerised by the arrogant lack of interest in Rafael’s dark gaze.

‘Interesting.’

‘What is?’ she breathed, hovering, unable to keep still.

‘Interesting how incredibly unadventurous you are for someone of your age. Why is that? No, I can guess why. Your mother dragged you from pillar to post and your response was to batten down the hatches and pray for a time when the storm would pass.’

‘Stop,’ Sofia hissed, shaken. ‘Stop making assumptions about my personal life!’

Rafael didn’t say anything for a few seconds but he looked at her, a long, leisurely look that made her breath hitch in her throat.

‘A little adventure can go a long way,’ Rafael murmured.

‘Maybe for you,’ she was stung into responding, ‘but not for me. So maybe you’re right—maybe a life of never quite staying anywhere long enough to put down real roots has made me a bit wary when it comes to all that nonsense about adventure. But I don’t need a complete stranger to start lecturing to me on my life choices.’

‘Who better than a complete stranger to lecture on life choices? Isn’t that how therapy works?’

‘You’re a gardener, not a therapist, so I’m not seeing the relevance.’

Rafael adroitly swerved around the interruption. ‘Life is meant to be lived,’ he mused, eyes pinned to her face, noting every change of expression, every fleeting shadow, the flare of her nostrils, the dilation of her pupils, the way her breathing was shallow and breathless. ‘Sometimes, things happen that can’t be predicted…’ He shrugged and grinned. ‘All I’m saying is that I won’t be spending every hour of the day obeying what’s on those pieces of paper el señor de la casa has thoughtfully printed for me.’

Adventure…

Never before had one word dangled before her eyes, beckoning with the seductive allure of a banquet spread before a starving person.

She had made all the right noises about adventure being the last thing she wanted in her life. She’d meant every word of it! It was an ideology long ingrained inside her.

And yet…he stood there and the urge to be swept away by that low, sexy voice was overwhelming. She physically had to take a step back but her heart was beating like a sledgehammer inside her.

‘I intend to see a bit of this beautiful place, Sofia, and you’re going to be my guide,’ he murmured. ‘While the cat’s away the mouse, I’m suggesting, should definitely play…’

CHAPTER THREE

SOFIA EYED THE crystal-clear swimming pool with a mixture of headiness and apprehension.

Under a dazzlingly bright-blue sky, the flat turquoise water glittered and shimmered and beckoned on a day of soaring temperatures.

Of course, she’d used the pool before, but only when the children had been around, splashing and yelling, with the little one clinging to her while she did her best to make sure Josh wasn’t going to do himself permanent damage by flinging himself into the water from the side of the pool while helping his younger sister to keep afloat without arm bands.

This time round…

Sofia closed her eyes and took a few steadying breaths while she mentally confronted the position she now found herself in.

‘Out of her comfort zone’ summed it up.

More than out, she thought giddily. More like teetering on the edge of a precipice with the comfort zone no longer in sight.

Amazing what a week could do!

First of all, she had let herself be talked into a sightseeing tour of Buenos Aires.

‘Live a little,’ he had whispered in a dangerously soft voice and even more dangerous glint in his dark eyes.

Then, in quick succession, there had followed various little jaunts in and around the city, while she had relaxed more and more and found herself dropping her guard and laughing, her curiosity about the stranger who had landed on the Walters’ doorstep growing with each passing second.

A stranger who had not bothered to go near the long list of must-dos that her employer had meticulously and maliciously printed off.

A stranger who had not, in fact, been near the tool shed, the ride-on mower, the green house or any implement connected to gardening.

His audacity thrilled her.

She wasn’t going to lose her head, because he wasn’t ‘settling down’ material, and he would be gone in the blink of an eye. But where was the harm in having a bit of fun, as he had cleverly suggested to her?

And she was having fun. Lots of it.

Even her aunt had noticed.

The evening before, she had gone to visit Misa, who lived on the other side of the city where the tall, shiny towers of the city and the exclusive retreats of the wealthy were as out of reach as the moon—even though, from the bedroom window of the derelict house in which she lived, Misa could spy them in the distance.

‘You’re glowing,’ her aunt had announced, pleased. ‘It’s the first time you’ve actually looked like a young girl since you returned to Buenos Aires. There must be a man in your life. Someone special, Sofia?’

‘I’m not glowing,’ Sofia had protested, but she knew that she was somehow different.

She had hardly been able to focus on Miguel, her cousin, who as always was in his room, immobile and frustrated, facing certain physical disabilities after a motorcycle accident at the age of sixteen.

For once, instead of sitting back and listening to his despair, Sofia had talked about the stranger who had landed on the doorstep like a breath of fresh air.

She’d been full of it.

Her head had been giddy with thoughts of Rafael when she’d left, whereas normally she would be in her usual funk, thinking about her aunt and Miguel stuck in one of the poorer barrios where block upon block of unsightly apartments jostled against one another like little card houses, unsubstantial and ready to topple over into the chaotic, cluttered little streets below. Thinking, as she always did, of how much Misa had been there for her much younger sister when Maria had returned ill and with time no longer on her side. Thinking of how vital was the money she earned as a nanny when it came to helping them both.

Now, with her towel in one hand, clad in the only swimsuit she possessed—an extremely unadventurous black one-piece—Sofia waited with shameful eagerness for Rafael to appear.

He had gone to the city ‘to see what was going on’ as though, somehow, people in high places might be clamouring for his involvement.

‘But meet me at the pool,’ he’d said in that way he had of voicing the daringly unacceptable as though she would be an idiot not to concede. ‘I’ll bring lunch.’

‘You don’t have to do that,’ Sofia had laughed, captivated by the intensity of his gaze. ‘Save what money you have! James and Elizabeth have left sufficient food in the larder for me to rustle something up.’

But he would have none of it and now here she was, waiting for him to appear with food, generous to a fault even though he was no higher up the pecking order than was she.

Her head was filled with dangerous, exciting possibilities.

He’d been the perfect gentleman so far, although his manner was amused, flirtatious, sexy, and his dark eyes lazily, thrillingly speculative. She wasn’t sure whether he fancied her or not and that was a first.

Lust was only something she’d read about in magazine articles but now…

Now it was something that called to her, the ultimate adventure waiting to happen. When she thought about being the one to make the first move, her whole body burned and tingled, but more and more in the space of a handful of days she had been contemplating just that.

She wasn’t entirely sure about the technicalities of such an event, but she was willing to give it a go, and that was such alien territory for her that her nervous system went into meltdown when she thought about it.

Her head was in the clouds when she became aware of Rafael, who had paused just by the pool, face shadowed by the overhang of the tree he was standing beneath.

Her eyes roamed appreciatively over him. So tall, so powerfully built, so commanding. He was in a pair of low-slung, khaki shorts, a T-shirt that originally would have been black but was now an off-grey, and a pair of loafers that looked as though they cost the earth but which, Sofia knew, would have been as cheap as chips.

Something about the way he was put together made everything he wore look stupidly expensive.

She began walking towards him and her heart beat just a little faster, the closer she got.

He didn’t move a muscle.

It was curious but there was something about him that was as wary as she was, even though he was crazily sexy and extremely forthcoming with conversation, able to reduce her to hysterics in just a few witty sentences, or have her hanging on his every word with anecdotes that beggared belief.

She was vaguely aware that there was a part of him that was very contained, so automatically she had responded like for like, confiding but only just so much, never letting him get too close.

He knew a lot about her experiences of travelling around with her mother but nothing at all about her life here, when she had finally returned to her home town.

He had guessed, shrewdly, at her experiences of being a nanny and working for James, but she had wisely held back from saying anything that could jeopardise the job which she badly needed, at least for the time being.

She had become close enough to want him in a very, very physical way, but had remained distant enough to protect herself, conscious of the temporary nature of his visit and the unsuitability of his personality.

‘Hi.’ She smiled and stared up at him, uneasily aware that he wasn’t smiling back with his usual easy charm. ‘I wondered whether you’d become lost in the city!’ She chatted away, keeping some distance between them and wishing she had covered herself a little more, because the unreadable remoteness of his expression was making her feel vulnerable and exposed.

‘Is it possible to become lost anywhere in the world if you’re in possession of a smart phone?’ he murmured.

‘So true.’ The smile was still there. ‘Have you brought lunch? I’m ravenous.’

‘Didn’t have time in the end.’ He raked his fingers through his hair and shifted on his feet before settling his dark eyes on her face. ‘Sofia, we need to talk.’

‘Sure.’ The smile faltered and her defences slammed into place, and she stepped back, shielding her eyes to look up at him. ‘I expect you’ve finally got round to realising that the Walters are going to be back pretty soon and you have to get down to actually doing some gardening.’

‘I’d forgotten their existence, in point of fact. So, no, that realisation hasn’t come home to roost.’

‘Shall I make us something to eat? Er…we could talk in the kitchen. Or out here. Although, it’s really hot, and anyway I shouldn’t really be swimming in this pool. It’s not what I’m being paid to do while my employers are away.’

‘Going inside might be a good idea, Sofia. You’re going to have to sit down to hear me out.’

‘Really?’ Her voice cooled because she could smell a warning a mile off. Had he noticed the way she had gradually thawed? Maybe he’d sensed her increasing desire and was politely about to tell her that he wasn’t up for grabs.

She had no idea whether he was involved with anyone, or even married! She’d made assumptions and was now mortified that she might have got those assumptions wrong.

‘Really.’

Rafael began walking towards the sprawling villa, and after a few seconds of hesitation Sofia followed in his wake.

He didn’t swerve towards the kitchen. Instead, he headed towards the sitting room and then turned, waiting as she entered and then stopped dead in her tracks, hovering just inside the door.

‘What’s going on, Rafael?’

‘Sit.’

‘Thanks, but I’m fine standing right here.’

‘I’m not entirely sure where to begin.’ He paused. ‘Maybe you should just take a look at this.’ He flicked open his wallet and pulled out an article on his godfather that he had printed off before he had left London, knowing that when the story emerged the online entry might explain more than he would be able to. He handed her the paper and then stepped back to watch her face as she scanned it before returning it to him.

‘So?’ she flung challengingly at him.

‘Recognise the name?’

‘I haven’t got a clue who that person is.’

‘You mother never mentioned names when she was talking about your father?’

Colour leeched out of her face as she stared at him wordlessly for a few seconds. ‘No.’

‘The man you’ve just read about is your father.’

‘I don’t believe you.’ She stumbled into the room and fell into one of the chairs, then promptly sat forward, horribly conscious of her state of undress. Primly, she draped the towel she had been carrying across her thighs and watched as he drew a chair to sit directly facing her.

Was this some sort of interrogation? Surely he couldn’t be right? She tried frantically to remember what her mother had said about her father aside from, in her last few days, when she had repeatedly told her that he had broken her heart. Had she described the guy at all? No. He’d been much older than her at the time, but she had shied away from details. Sofia had never bothered to pry, because what would have been the use?

‘Why wouldn’t you? What reason would I have to lie?’

‘Look, I don’t know what’s going on but—’

‘Hear me out, Sofia, and you will. David Dunmore is your father. Your mother contacted him shortly before she died. Her conscience, it would seem, got the better of her. She told him that he had a daughter. You. He had people check you out as soon as he received that letter from your mother.’

‘Had people check me out?’

‘These things happen.’ Rafael shrugged.

‘No. Not in my world, they don’t happen.’ She stared at him stonily. ‘Who are you?’ she demanded, leaping to her feet. ‘I don’t want to be having this conversation. I need to… I need to…’

‘You need to sit and listen to what I have to say. Sofia, I didn’t come over here from London to play at being a gardener.’

‘Then why have you come?’ She sat back down, very slowly, riveted to his beautiful face, chilled by the cold containment of his expression. This was certainly not the warm, teasing guy she had begun losing her head over. This was a stranger on a mission and it was dawning on her that the mission might not be to her liking.

But confusion rendered her speechless while her thoughts buzzed in her head like a swarm of angry wasps.

‘David Dunmore is my godfather and I was tasked with coming over here to personally check you out. Not check out the veracity of your identity, but to check out what sort of person you are.’

Sofia stared at him sickly as pieces of the jigsaw puzzle began meshing together, revealing a picture she didn’t want to acknowledge.

‘There must be some mistake,’ she whispered. ‘And even if there isn’t…even if that man happens to be my father…why would he send someone over here to check and see what I might be like?’

‘That man happens to be an extremely wealthy person,’ Rafael told her flatly. ‘Wealthy people take the necessary precautions.’

‘And you…? If you’re not a gardener, are you wealthy as well?’

‘I am beyond wealthy.’

That statement of fact dimly registered in a part of her brain that was already recognising that this was no joke. This man—the man she’d thought she was getting to know, the one man to have broken through her defences—was not the person she had thought him to be. In short, he was a spy sent over to get the measure of her for reasons he hadn’t fully disclosed, but which he was about to.

‘I should have guessed,’ she said bitterly.

‘How so?’

‘Just the way you were. Arrogant. Dismissive. How did you manage to wangle a job here as a gardener?’

‘David managed that feat and, believe me, I was dubious about the validity of this…fishing expedition but…’ He paused, expression thoughtful as he mulled over the direction the conversation should take.

Sofia watched. What else could she do? Watched, and waited and cursed herself for letting her trusted instinct to keep all men at arm’s length go to pot.

She should have known that all that charm, those sinful good looks, that mesmerising personality came at a price. She was paying the price now as she accepted how far she had been sucked into the magical aura he exuded.

She’d been ready to fall into his arms and sleep with him!

‘But…?’ she questioned coldly.

‘But, firstly, I should explain that he has no other natural children of his own. He’s been married twice, and both marriages ended in divorce, and extremely acrimonious divorce at that. And neither of those marriages yielded any children, although he did inherit a stepson who now owns a substantial amount of shares in his company.’

‘What does that have to do with me?’

‘Ostensibly, it should have nothing to do with you whatsoever, but in point of fact you, by virtue of your blood line, are in line to naturally inherit the rest of the shares held by your father.’

‘I have no idea where you’re going with this.’

‘Surely you’re beginning to join the dots, Sofia?’

‘Why would someone I’ve never met, someone who never knew I existed until a handful of months ago, care one way or another about blood lines?’ She laughed scornfully.

‘David’s stepson,’ Rafael informed her heavily, ‘has been proving to be something of a problem ever since he came of age.’ Rafael lapsed into temporary silence, his dark brows knitted in a frown. Without warning, he vaulted upright and began pacing the room, a vision of such superb grace and elegance that the breath caught in her throat and she had to look away to stop the treacherous pounding of her heart.

He came to rest directly in front of her, staring down into her upturned face.

‘He was given shares courtesy of my godfather’s extremely cunning ex-wife and her very efficient divorce lawyer. Not enough to take over the company but enough to be a nuisance. Under normal circumstances, David would be able to contain the situation, as he has done in the past, but his health has not been good.’ Rafael’s face shadowed. ‘He has lost the desire and no longer has the energy to exert some much-needed control.’

‘I still have no idea where you’re going with this.’

‘I was sent here to see whether you were a worthy heir.’

Silence settled between them. She looked away, sick to her stomach, because she knew now that all that flirting, those dangerously seductive glances, that lazy banter that had made her squirm with crazy, stupid excitement and lust, had all been part of a bigger plan. While she’d been busy letting her heart rule her head, he’d been busy keeping tabs to see what sort of person she was.

‘A worthy heir,’ she said woodenly. ‘A worthy heir to do what, exactly? Bond with someone I don’t know from Adam and have no desire to meet?’

‘A worthy heir to take over from David…at the very least in name.’ He resumed sitting but this time there was a tension in his posture that hadn’t been there before.

Sofia noted it without even realising that she was doing so. Her mind was too full of other things to pay attention to what was happening on the periphery of her consciousness.

She burst out laughing, genuine, unrestrained laughter, because the whole situation was beginning to feel a little preposterous. If it weren’t for the deadly serious expression on Rafael’s face, she would almost have expected a camera crew to jump out from behind the sofa, yelling that she’d been tricked.

‘Share the joke?’ Rafael asked coolly.

‘What’s funny is the thought of me being checked out to see if I fit the bill as a company director! I hate to break the bad news, but nannies don’t really have that level of experience. Sure, I’m doing my accountancy exams in my own time, but somehow I don’t think that’s going to be sufficient, do you?’

‘No. You could no more run my godfather’s company than you could harness a horse and ride to the moon.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Rafael,’ Sofia said acidly.

‘I’m being realistic. You’re not equipped to go near a billion-dollar business. But here’s where it gets interesting, Sofia.’ His eyes locked to hers and a shiver ran up and down her spine, a fast, cold, tickling sensation that suddenly made her pulses race. ‘I’m not just here to check your suitability as an heir. I’m here to check your suitability as a wife.’

For a few seconds she thought that she had misheard him. Her mouth fell open, her eyes widened, but whatever she wanted to stay remained stuck firmly in her throat.

‘You’re in shock,’ Rafael told her calmly. He stood up, vanished for a couple of minutes while she remained sitting as frozen as a statue, then returned with a glass of something strong and golden and told her to drink it.

She obeyed and the fiery liquid coursed a burning path down her throat. It did the trick. She felt the tension ease out of her as she dared to meet his opaque, speculative gaze.

‘Before you tell me that you may have heard incorrectly, let me assure you that you haven’t. Not only was I asked to search you out and verify your personality, but dangling at the end of the request was a very tempting titbit. I marry you and I get ownership of vital sections of my godfather’s companies. Vital shares in certain areas would remain within your control. It’s complicated, because of the size of the concern, but suffice to say that David’s proposition…’ Rafael half-smiled, the tension draining away for a few seconds, ‘Was pretty shrewd. The leisure side of his portfolio would be signed over to me, and that sly old fox has known for a long time that I’ve expressed interest in that side of his company, so handing it over would be quite the temptation. And, as your husband, I would legitimately be able to put things in order within the rest of the company and sort Freddy out once and for all.’

And his godfather would be happy. David’s happiness was all that mattered to Rafael and, as far as he was concerned, a marriage of convenience unsullied by emotion made a lot of sense.

‘You’ve got to be joking.’

‘I fully intended to take a bit more time getting to know you, but I’ve broached this now because things have unexpectedly come to a head. My godfather…’ He glanced away and Sofia saw the giveaway tightening of his jaw that revealed a depth of emotion that she suspected was never allowed to surface. ‘My godfather, your father,’ he continued, gathering himself in record time, ‘has been rushed to the hospital with another heart attack. The consultant called me to say that he’s out of surgery but whether he will fully recover or not remains to be seen.’

‘I’m really sorry, Rafael.’ Her natural instinct to empathise won over the horror of being manipulated by the man sitting in front of her.

‘Let’s leave that to one side,’ was his brusque response. ‘The fact is that time is no longer on my side. I came here to do a job—suss you out and take the necessary steps.’

‘Well, you’ve wasted your time.’ She stood up, empathy safely back in its box, and walked towards the door. She half-expected him to tell her to sit back down, but he didn’t. However, she still didn’t leave the room, as her head was telling her to do.

‘Like I said, I don’t know my father and I have no interest in finding out about him. And marry you?’ She laughed incredulously. ‘You’re living on a different planet if you think that I would just walk up the aisle with some guy I’ve known for five minutes because he’s running an errand for his godfather and I happen to be part of the errand!’ When he didn’t reply, she threw him a genuinely perplexed look, her slanting green eyes narrowed and questioning. ‘And why would you consider marrying a perfect stranger anyway?’

‘I see it as a business arrangement. I have no sentimental attachment to the notion of marriage. In fact, I’d never considered getting married at all until my godfather mentioned it. As arrangements go, it happened to be one that suited me on a number of fronts. It would solve the difficulties that have been plaguing my godfather for a while. I could legitimately go in and take control. And, like I said, it would also be a nice and interesting addition to my own portfolio of companies.’

‘Why doesn’t he just give you the whole damn lot and be done with it?’

‘Perhaps he would have in time. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t have considered it because he has always been a very vital man, more than capable of steering his vast company. But he’s been diminished and Freddy has jumped into that breach to exploit it. Hence his proposal to me,’ Rafael said honestly. ‘And there’s a great deal of sentimentality attached to seeing you. He would like to get to know the daughter he’s never known…at any rate, that’s my interpretation of events.’

‘Not going to happen.’ Sofia thought of the way her mother’s life had meandered in all sorts of unfortunate directions after that life-changing affair had ended, after she’d been dumped—no doubt because at the time David Dunmore had wanted nothing permanent with some woman who had been cleaning his room.

From remarks made over the years, confidences uttered when her mother had been dying, Sofia had worked out that her mother had fallen, and fallen hard, for a guy who had walked away from her, disappeared without warning and without a backward glance. Thereafter she had lost her innocent belief in all that nonsense about love conquering all. One minute he’d been there, hot in pursuit and spinning her stories about everlasting happiness, and then poof, he’d gone. She’d been told by his friend and colleague that he wouldn’t be returning, that the best bet would be for her to hand in her notice and save herself the embarrassment of fingers pointing, because the whole messy business would hit the public domain sooner or later and she’d be kicked out.

Sofia had grown up with a mother who had traded her looks for promises of love, always searching for what she had lost and believing that she could recapture it. Loving the wrong guy had made her vulnerable. It was an excellent lesson when it came to choosing right.

‘Because you have romantic dreams about what a marriage should be?’ he questioned, expression unreadable.

Sofia stiffened and looked at him. She’d always thought herself far too practical to get swept up in the whole starry-eyed business of romance. She’d never wanted to be vulnerable the way her mother had been. Her head was firmly screwed on, and she liked it that way, but when she considered the past few days she had to admit to herself that silly romantic feelings had crept to the surface, altering the way she behaved, turning her into someone she didn’t recognise.

All that for a guy who had been sent over to do a job and had probably figured that turning on the charm would be the most efficient way of succeeding in his task.

It was humiliating but she had to concede that a very wealthy, drop-dead sexy guy could have his pick of women and, even though she knew what it was like to turn heads, she was certainly not the most beautiful woman in the world.

‘You could have anyone…’ she heard herself say out loud and then blushed furiously at the lapse in concentration.

Rafael slowly smiled and tilted his head to one side. ‘I could…’ he agreed softly, without an ounce of false modesty. ‘But I find that the price tag attached to getting too involved with a woman is one I’m not prepared to pay. My godfather is fully aware of my views on marriage, which is why he never thought twice about the offer he made. You may not want to get to know your father,’ he continued, voice hardening, ‘but, believe me, it would be very much worth your while.’

‘I’m not a pawn on a chessboard to be pushed and manipulated.’ She tilted her chin at a mutinous angle. He was so still, so focused, so beautiful.

It was an effort not to take a few steps closer, just to breathe him in and wallow in the impact on her senses.

It was insane. She had no idea how he had managed to have that effect on her, but he had, and she hated her own weakness, especially now that she was finding out just what he was all about.

‘Proud words,’ Rafael murmured, moving towards her, taking his time, eyes darkening in unwitting appreciation. He was powerfully drawn to her even as his head warned against muddying the waters with unnecessary complications. ‘I admire that, but you should really think about what’s on offer here.’

‘I’ve thought.’

‘No, Sofia, you really haven’t.’ He looked around him, taking in the handsome proportions of the room, and then focused his fabulous eyes on her.

The effect was to render her breathless and confused.

‘You see this as your future?’

‘Of course I don’t! I told you… I’m in the process of doing my accountancy exams…’

‘Which won’t be completed for…how long? Six months? A year? Longer? And in the meantime you remain here, working for some guy who wants to get his hands on you?’

‘I never said anything of the sort!’

‘You didn’t have to.’ He walked away from her, headed towards the window ledge, against which he perched with a magnificent sense of complete authority. ‘Like I told you, I’m an expert when it comes to working out what’s not being told.’

Addled and furious, Sofia thought of James and that way he had of looking at her, undressing her with his eyes. He would never do anything, because he was fearful of consequences, but he certainly didn’t make life comfortable for her…and who knew? A little drink and she might wake one night to find him standing in her room…

‘You could always leave the job,’ Rafael continued thoughtfully. ‘But, without any qualifications, how easy would it be for you to get a well-paid job to replace this? One that allowed you sufficient time to continue your studies? I’ve looked around here and the economy’s good but there’s heavy competition out there…lots of people with degrees pounding on office doors.’ He paused, giving her time for his words to sink in. ‘Your father would like to get to know you. If you had been in any way the sort of woman I thought would hurt him, I would not be standing here having this conversation with you. He…wants to get to know you and I, in turn, want to facilitate that.’

‘Should I be flattered?’ Sofia flung at him. ‘It seems that lots of thought has gone into how my father would benefit from the arrangement, and how you would, but hey, what about me?’

‘Oh, but I feel you should take time out to consider the advantages of accepting what’s on offer, and the greatest of them is your freedom. Freedom from all of this. Think about it, Sofia. No having to do as you’re told, with your free time whittled down to when it suits your employers. Take this deal and I will immediately begin transferring a healthy sum of money into your account. Whatever you want, you will be able to have. Shares in the company would go to me but, as compensation, you would receive a vast amount of money. No more scrimping and saving.’

‘I could never marry you,’ Sofia said weakly. She thought of her cousin, with all his problems, and her aunt who struggled daily to make ends meet. The little she handed over meant so much to them. How much more would she be able to do if money was no object? Expert physiotherapy for Miguel? An operation, perhaps? There were many cutting-edge treatments out there… More than that, she could move them to somewhere nicer, a house with a garden out in the suburbs where her aunt wouldn’t feel scared if she happened to be walking home at night. There was so much she could do and the limitless possibilities hovered over her head, dazzling and seductive. ‘You lied to me. You pretended to be someone you weren’t. How could I ever marry someone I didn’t even like?’

Rafael hesitated but only momentarily. ‘This is a business deal. Marry me and in return you become a wealthy woman. As for the nature of our relationship…you will be free to do your own thing, as I will, within reason and with absolute discretion.’ He lowered his eyes, shielding his expression, guarding his thoughts, doing what came naturally to a man as intensely private as he was.

For some reason, Rafael’s cool, detached logic stung like heck. So he didn’t fancy her and he never had. She’d been mistaken. Was she so full of herself that she’d actually thought that he’d been interested? Giving off all the right signals? Getting under her skin because he lusted after her the way she foolishly lusted after him?

‘So what you’re offering is…’ Her voice was glacial.

‘Yes.’ Rafael met her eyes and held her gaze. ‘The ultimate marriage of convenience.’

CHAPTER FOUR

WITH HIS BACK to the coffee shop, and a paper cup of over-stewed coffee in one hand, Rafael scanned the faces of the people emerging from Customs out into the waiting crowds. A few were optimistically peering to find loved ones. Most looked frazzled and weary.

Under normal circumstances, Rafael would not have been standing there, drinking mediocre coffee and waiting for anyone to arrive. Under normal circumstances, he would have dispatched his driver to do the honours, but these were hardly normal circumstances.

A fortnight ago, he had left Argentina an engaged man. He had presumed that Sofia would leave with him but, she’d informed him, she had things to do.

‘I can’t just up sticks and leave,’ she had told him, sitting upright across from him in the formal sitting room where the details of this marriage of convenience had been discussed with the formality of two heads of state at a summit. ‘I have things to do.’

‘What things?’

‘Things,’ she had said coolly. ‘All the usual things a person has to do just before they travel to another country to marry someone they barely know.’

‘Thereby ensuring themselves a small fortune in the process,’ Rafael had been prompted into saying, edgily. ‘As a token of good faith, I’m prepared to personally transfer a sizeable amount to your bank account online right now, if you give me your account details.’

‘I also,’ Sofia had added, overriding the offer, ‘don’t like the idea of just disappearing and leaving a farewell note behind. I may not be the Walters’ biggest fan,’ she had conceded truthfully, ‘but I’m fond of their children and I would like to say goodbye to them.’

So that had been that. In the end, it had worked out for the best because Rafael had travelled back solo and had taken the opportunity to explain the situation to David, who was now on the slow and laborious route to recuperation.

It had also given him ample opportunity to crystallise the what happens next? in the scenario.

Not that he hadn’t thought about it while he had been out there. He had. Eventually. When matters had come to a head.

He’d been confronted with a sexy beauty and for a while his libido had misbehaved but, yes, when he had sat her down and explained the situation, he had known that acting on his libido was not going to do.

This wasn’t going to be one of his transitory affairs. He wasn’t going to be able to walk away after a handful of weeks and bouquet of ‘it’s over’ flowers lovingly chosen by his PA.

No, Sofia Suarez, whose existence he hadn’t been aware of a fortnight previously, was going to be slightly more long-lasting than that.

A year. That was the timeline mutually agreed as they had coolly and objectively discussed the nuts and bolts of their arrangement. A year, during which he would sort out the problem with Freddy and she would build the bonds with her father that would last beyond the inevitable divorce. A year seemed like a reasonable length of time. Having agreed to the deal, not once had she baulked, and he had admired her for that.

It was going to be a mutually beneficial situation for all concerned. For his godfather, who was desperate to meet his flesh-and-blood daughter. For him, because he was not only going to do something for the only human being on the planet he actually had time for but, in the process, would sort out the aggravation of his godfather’s stepson’s interference—and, as no miserly bonus, garner himself a healthy slice of the leisure industry his godfather had made his own. And of course for his bride-to-be, who would suddenly find herself one of the wealthiest women on the continent.

Joy and laughter all round.

But not if he allowed his libido to rule his head.

Rafael had felt the sizzle of attraction between them. He had seen the flare of desire in her feline green eyes and for a short while he had actually contemplated doing something about it. Because the pull towards her, forbidden fruit when he’d started thinking with his head instead of that other, far less reliable part of his body, was the strongest he’d ever experienced.

But this was a business arrangement and he had never been stupid enough to mix business with pleasure.

His solution had been the perfect one. They would maintain their freedom of movement whilst obeying rules of utmost discretion. A year was hardly an eternity in the great scheme of things.

Mind half-playing on the various formalities to be manoeuvred, Rafael spotted her emerging from the airport corridor through which lay Arrivals and Customs. She was walking slowly behind a family and trying hard to control a trolley that seemed determined to explore the opposite direction from the one she was taking.

Her long, dark, curly hair was tied back but travel had unravelled most of it from its restraints. She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans, a loose T-shirt and a scruffy bomber jacket. Her skin was the colour of latte and as smooth as silk and he drew in a sharp breath before briskly walking in her direction.

Just when you figure you’ve got life nicely under control, he thought with grim amusement, you discover that life’s decided to turn the tables and start controlling you.

Just as well he was made of sterner stuff and could handle anything life decided to throw at him.

Flustered and bug-eyed, because she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of hours she had actually managed to sleep over the past couple of weeks, Sofia was not aware of Rafael’s steady approach.

She was too busy trying not to crash into the three-year-old toddler being pulled along by his mother.

The dark timbre of Rafael’s voice brought her to an abrupt stop, but not for long, because he seamlessly took the trolley from her and ushered her out of the steady stream of traffic looking for familiar faces.

‘Good flight?’ he enquired politely.

Sofia slanted a glance at him. Somehow she had managed to forget just how stunning the guy was. So tall, so powerfully built, so aggressively masculine.

Eyes turned in his direction. Had he noticed? She was sure that he must have and that awareness of his own sexual magnetism would certainly account for some of his overwhelming self-assurance.

‘Fine, thank you,’ she returned, remembering for the record that he might be sex on legs but he was also someone who got what he wanted, whatever the cost and even if it involved lying.

‘That’s all the luggage you have with you?’

‘I travel light.’

‘Sensible. You’re going to have a whole new wardrobe anyway, so the less of your old things you have to dispose of, the better.’

‘How is my…my…how is David doing?’

‘You’re free to call him “Dad” if you like.’

‘He’s not my dad.’

Rafael shrugged but then turned to look down at her, his tone gentling. ‘I understand the situation, Sofia. You’re going to be meeting someone you have no interest in meeting but you’re going to have to control the tendency to be waspish. David is recuperating but the last thing he needs is to be stressed out by surly behaviour.’

‘You have no right to tell me off as though I’m a kid.’ Sofia looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘I didn’t ask to be here.’

‘But here you are, and I could name a million and one reasons why.’ He looked at her wryly, eyebrows raised. ‘Check your bank account and you’ll get my drift.’

Face burning, Sofia looked away. He had sent her three emails. One contained a form, basically preventing her from blabbing to the press about anything. The other contained a complicated legal document involving distribution of shares and cash and she had signed it without reading it to the end.

The third email had detailed practical information. That one she had read thoroughly but now that she was here, so far from home, panic began to set in.

She rested her hand lightly on his arm as they emerged from the airport into cool spring air.

They had left some of the bustling crowds behind. Out here, cars were pulling up and slowly driving off, dropping and collecting passengers.

What have I got myself into? Sofia suddenly thought, terrified in a way she hadn’t been back in the safety of her room at the Walters’ mansion. Yes, she had agreed to something that made sound financial sense. He had assured her that theirs would not be a relationship in any true sense of the word and she had believed him. She was also, underneath the bluster, ever so slightly curious about the man who had fathered her, even though she doubted she could ever feel anything for some rich guy who had disappeared and broken her mother’s heart.

But still…

Here she was, and her mouth was suddenly dry and her pulses racing all over the place.

‘What is it?’

‘I… I…’ Her voice trailed off.

‘The car is over there.’ He nodded to a monstrously big Range Rover. ‘You can get it off your chest once we’re driving.’

‘You sent an email,’ Sofia began once she had climbed into the passenger seat and the car was silently exiting the cavernous car park. ‘I’m afraid I’ve forgotten… I signed the stuff and I know…well…that we’ve given this a year, but was there anything else? And where…where are we going now? I feel I should have asked more questions but…’

‘What did the boss say when you handed in your notice, just out of interest?’

‘James?’

‘I don’t suppose he was happy about that.’

‘It was inconvenient for both of them.’ She flushed and looked away, recalling the angry gleam in James’s eyes. She’d wondered whether he hadn’t planned, at some point, to try to get her into bed, and was annoyed because the opportunity had removed itself from his grasp. He didn’t intimidate her but she was seriously glad that he was no longer her boss.

‘I’ll bet. You’re nervous and wondering whether you’ve done the right thing.’

‘Have I said that?’

Rafael shot her a sideways look. ‘Remember that talent of mine for reading what’s not been said? If you’re having doubts, then remember the boss whose nose was put out of joint when you handed in your notice. I saw that photo. I can recognise a sleaze ball from a mile away. Life would have become increasingly difficult for you there. The guy was probably circling like a shark. So, you asked where we’re going. Right now, we’re going to be staying at one of my houses outside London. Close enough for me to commute, at least on weekends, but far enough for you to find your feet far from prying eyes.’

‘Prying eyes?’

‘I’ve done my utmost to steer clear of paparazzi in both my professional and personal life and am only ever in print in connection with some of the more significant deals I’ve done over the years. On the whole, reporters have little to no interest in my personal life but, that said, the fact that I’m married isn’t something that’s going to pass unnoticed.’ He paused and slanted another sideways glance at her. ‘I thought you might want to adjust to life over here in relative peace and quiet before you’re introduced as my wife. Hence we avoid my London base for a few weeks.’

‘That’s very thoughtful of you,’ Sofia said stiffly.

‘It will also enable you to control the occasions when you meet David. I’ve discussed this with him and he’s happy with the arrangement. He is, believe it or not, as nervous about meeting you as you are of meeting him.’

‘I’m not nervous.’

‘I’ll let that one pass. Have you ever been to this country before?’

‘No.’ She sighed and gazed out of the window at the soulless buzz of the motorway.

‘You’ll familiarise yourself with the place in time.’ He paused. ‘We’re heading out of London at the moment. I’ve arranged a jeweller, who will be coming to my house with a selection of rings. You can take your pick of whatever you like. I’ve also had a timetable of various activities prepared for you, including a shopping trip for…amongst other things…a dress for the big day. You can either go to Harrods or else Harrods will come to you, if you don’t fancy London.’

Sofia thought that this was the reality. The ring. The dress. A ceremony that suited all parties but had no emotional significance. The best that money could buy but without joy, anticipation or love.

She shivered and laughed unsteadily.

‘What is it?’ Rafael quizzed, not looking at her. ‘I’m merely going over all the practical details.’

‘I know. It’s strange,’ she said slowly, ‘But for a while, when you first arrived at the Walters’ house, when you were pretending to be a gardener, I actually felt comfortable with you. I hadn’t expected to, but I did. You were…different. More easy going, light-hearted. I suppose that was just a persona and this is the real you.’

Rafael flushed darkly. ‘I don’t have a split personality, Sofia.’

‘You weren’t cold and distant like this…’

‘I’m being practical,’ he offered brusquely. ‘It’s the best way of dealing with this situation. This is not Argentina and it’s better for the both of us if we approach it from the same perspective. We’re in an arrangement and we need to view it as such.’ He looked at her, at her smooth, stunningly sexy profile, the gentle curve of her neck, the sweep of her dark hair, and his body stirred in unwelcome and definitely inappropriate response. ‘It’s essential, in fact,’ he felt compelled to stress in a roughened undertone.

Sofia didn’t say anything but she was sitting next to a stranger.

‘It’s just a little weird to think that I’m about to embark on a wedding and a marriage to a guy who is more of a stranger now than he was when I first met him.’

‘Not such a great idea to go there,’ Rafael said, picking up pace now that the airport surroundings had been left behind and they were shooting away from the city. ‘This is what we both signed up for and we both had our reasons. Let’s just hit Acceptance Road and keep on it.’

‘But don’t you feel just a little bit sad that you’re not getting married for all the right reasons?’ She laughed lightly to cover up the sincerity of what she was saying. Funny thing was, she’d always considered herself the sort of practical girl who didn’t have a romantic bone in her body. Not really. Yes, she believed in love, but a sensible sort of love. Not the sort of tempestuous carousel of emotion that had plagued her mother and driven her into relationships that had been doomed before they got off the ground.

‘The right reasons being…the starry-eyed business of true love?’ Rafael laughed shortly. ‘In a word, no.’ And just like that he thought of times past and his brief and disastrous foray into married life. Hell, he thought he’d relegated that slice of insanity to the past! Too young to know better and too green round the gills to realise that some women loved money more than they loved the men they claimed to adore. He shut the wayward memory down. You learned from the crap that was thrown at you and you moved on. He’d learned from having rich parents who hadn’t given a damn about him and he’d moved on. He’d learned from that costly, juvenile mistake when he’d married in haste and he’d moved on.

‘You’re very cynical, aren’t you?’

‘Very realistic. I’ve seen where so-called true love ends up and it’s not in a happy-ever-after scenario. I’m comfortable with this arrangement. And you should be too because, as we’ve agreed, there is a time limit to it.’

‘I remember,’ Sofia said dryly. One year, he had concluded, during which time the relationship with David could be forged, the business of Freddy would be concluded and thereafter she would be free to divorce and pick back up her life, but as a wealthy woman.

‘I didn’t take you for the romantic kind,’ he eventually remarked to break the silence and kill the remnants of uninvited memories. ‘In fact, you were pretty spiky when we first met.’

‘I’m not the romantic kind! And you were pretty arrogant when we first met, which was probably why I was spiky.’ It was suddenly unnerving because he’d lost the cool voice, and that glimpse of the sexy, easy guy she’d found herself attracted to was back. It was just a glimpse but it was still enough to make her skin tingle. This time, though, she was prepared and she quickly changed the subject because there was no way she was going to lose her head a second time round. He’d turned the charm on when he’d descended in his fake role as gardener because he’d needed to suss her out, get to know her, and that had been the most efficient way of doing itt. But charm was inherent in his personality and she guessed that it would be far too easy to fall victim to it again. It was something she wasn’t about to do.

‘When…er…do I get to meet…er…?’

‘David?’ Rafael half-smiled. ‘Scheduled for the day after tomorrow. Saturday. He’ll be back in his house and up to visitors, although any visit will have to be brief. And the big day…the following Saturday. It’ll be a suitably small affair. Thereafter, we’ll be man and wife—although, as I’ve said, I’ll be working in London during the week and on weekends you might want to travel down and stay in my apartment…handy for setting up a routine of visits to David once he’s home.’

No time together was what Sofia read into that statement of fact, and it came as no great shock, as he’d previously sketched out that scenario.

‘So I’ll be out in the sticks during the week.’ She would carry on with her studies. She’d enjoy the discipline, even though she wouldn’t need the job at the end of it. She would explore her surroundings, maybe do something crafty with her spare time, volunteer somewhere or maybe just see what sports were on offer. It would be a life she had never envisioned but she would need something to do for herself while she was here.

‘Unless you prefer my apartment. It’s more than big enough for the both of us.’

‘Won’t that be an intrusion?’ Sofia murmured inaudibly, because she’d already worked out that if Rafael spent the week away from her it would give him ample opportunity to continue uninterrupted in whatever life he had involving the opposite sex.

She thought of him with another woman and was shocked at the raw sting of jealousy that swept through her in a tidal wave.

‘Come again?’

‘Nothing,’ she said brightly. ‘Just…enjoying the scenery and…being somewhere different.’

The car ate up the miles and, despite the flurry of nervous tension inside her, she really did enjoy the scenery as the roads became less congested and the land more open, rolling in a patchwork quilt of different colours on either side of the dual carriageway until they cut away from the main drag.

Then they drove up smaller roads, narrower streets that opened into tiny villages announcing themselves with a single signpost. She saw lots of greenery and lots of trees and then, eventually, the car swerved slowly through electronically controlled wrought-iron gates.

This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. The drive opened out to a small courtyard and then an elongated cottage that was picture-perfect. White walls, clambering ivy, roses.

‘You own this house?’

Rafael drew to a stop and flashed her a smile of such utter charm that for a few seconds she struggled to breathe.

The worst of it was that he didn’t even realise the effect that smile could have on her.

‘Investment,’ he said succinctly. ‘Apparently out here old and quaint sells. As it happens, I’ve hung onto it far longer than I originally planned, because David’s always enjoyed coming out here, but in the meantime it’s done very nicely indeed pricewise. That answer your question?’

‘Perfectly.’

There was a snazzy black car in the drive and now an attractive blonde in her mid-thirties emerged and walked towards the Range Rover.

‘The ring selection,’ Rafael murmured, reaching across her to snap open the door and pausing before withdrawing his arm that was inches from her breasts. ‘For the love-struck couple, giddy after their whirlwind romance.’

‘Is that what everyone thinks?’

Rafael shrugged. ‘David knows the ins and outs, and Freddy has already begun to make outraged noises, but I’d say the rest of the world probably think that this is the real deal. Why wouldn’t they? I honestly don’t care but it might be easier all round for you to give as few people as little to talk about.’

Sofia was trying hard to concentrate on every word he was saying but her eyes were compulsively looking at his well-defined, sensual mouth and her body was way too aware of that arm of his almost but not quite brushing her breasts.

She barely saw the rings, which were a blur of diamonds and gold, small, glittering objects that mocked all the principles she had ever stood by. They nestled against the black velvet and all she could think was this should be for real. In front of them, the attractive blonde was positively throbbing with excitement.

Sofia pointed to the smallest and least ostentatious and felt the light touch of Rafael’s hand cupping the nape of her neck, gently massaging beneath her mane of hair. Time felt suspended. She inhaled and then found it almost impossible to exhale because every nerve in her body, every pulse, was caught in a whirlpool of dark, swirling sensation.

‘Way too small, my darling,’ he murmured, leaning forward, his hand still massaging her neck, to point at a far bigger diamond. Then he drew back and his hand dropped, but only to lightly rest on her waist.

‘Lucky you,’ the blonde whispered when the ordeal was at an end and rings had been selected, ready for adjustments before the big day.

‘Oh, yes.’ Sofia glanced to where Rafael was now standing to one side, on his phone talking work, safely out of range of her rebellious body. ‘I’m the luckiest girl in the world.’

As she said that, he looked at her, dark eyes tangling with bright green, and hot colour crawled into her cheeks.

Did she look like a genuine blushing bride-to-be? She hoped not and, to dispel any such illusion, she stood up briskly, smile pinned to her face, and ushered the woman out. Then she asked whether she could explore her surroundings.

‘Take your time,’ Rafael drawled. ‘I have some work to do. I’ll be in the kitchen.’

He vanished through one of the opened doors towards the back and Sofia knew that this was how it was going to be until such time as the marriage drew to its inevitable conclusion, leaving her a rich woman free to go her own way.

She did as told and explored. She took her time and, in the process, she fell in love with the sprawling, well-decorated house. She never imagined that she would actually live in a place like this. The proportions of the rooms were perfect, the muted tones exquisite, the furnishings luxurious. Whatever she’d traded, whatever dreams she’d locked away, she knew that the deal done had given her all sorts of advantages she could never, ever have achieved on her own.

She didn’t even have to pretend to be head-over-heels in love with Rafael. Mutual respect was what was on the table.

And what, exactly, had she left behind? Her infrastructure in Argentina had been almost non-existent thanks to all the travelling she’d done with her mother over the years. She’d lost touch with school friends. She only had her aunt and her cousin. Her heart constricted when she thought about them because she would miss them but, as she’d told Misa, it wasn’t going to be for ever and she would be able to do so much for Miguel.

‘Love isn’t the be all and end all,’ she had said with genuine honesty. ‘Mum had her heart broken because of love and then spent the rest of her life trying to relocate it and failing. Life would have been a lot easier if she’d just focused on…other things. Financial security. A steady job.’

She had already set up a standing order and had told her aunt to start looking around for a better property, suitably adapted for Miguel. She’d explained the situation, the practicalities of it. She had fought down the lump in her throat that somehow her aunt would be disappointed she had told herself that this was what mattered. Not big dreams of fairy-tale romances but the solid advantages of financial security.

She still believed all of that and it was frustrating to find herself doubting those long-held convictions.

On the spur of the moment, she dialled her aunt’s number, gently pushing the door to the upstairs bedroom behind her.

The minute Rafael had come clean about his intentions, she had slammed down the shutters and any temptation to confide further details of her private life had screeched to a halt.

She’d always been so protective of her privacy and she had been appalled that she’d begun opening up to a complete stranger who had turned out to be a fraud.

Her aunt answered on the first ring and, just like that, Sofia was transported back to Buenos Aires and the gruelling, repetitive life Misa led, doing her utmost to make everything more comfortable for Miguel.

It was a life that was so different from the one she now found herself transported to that it was scarcely believable.

In a low voice, smiling when she thought of all the possibilities that would open up to the only relative she knew and someone she loved, Sofia described the very house in which she was standing, describing the trip over and the car that had collected her. She peered through the window, down to a rambling garden that matched the house.

Trees fringed the back and beyond those trees were rolling fields. Borders of flowers and shrubs were artfully entwined and under a drooping willow was a wooden bench, perfect for reading.

Still smiling, she turned to find Rafael standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable, his dark eyes cool and speculative.

She ended the call, flushing and annoyed with herself, because she had nothing to feel guilty about and yet she did.

‘Personal call?’ he asked, strolling into the room and joining her by the window through which he peered absently before turning around to look at her. ‘Call you felt you had to make with the door shut?’

Sofia opened her mouth to tell him that she had been touching base with her aunt but stopped herself.

She’d decided to share as little as possible, hadn’t she? She had no intention of telling him how she planned to use some of the money that had landed into her account. He had made it clear that this was purely a business transaction, that he would lead his life as he saw fit just so long as he kept the details of what he was up to to himself.

Confidences were the business of friends. He wasn’t her friend, despite what she might originally have thought.

Besides, what if he decided to have a say in where her money went? Could he do that? Did he care one way or the other? It was best not to risk anything.

She couldn’t trust him and it was just as well to remember that.

She shrugged, slipping the mobile phone into her over the shoulder bag.

‘If you have any ties you think I should know about,’ Rafael drawled, with just the tiniest edge in his voice, ‘then you should think about telling me now.’

‘Ties?’

‘I asked you once whether you were involved with anyone out there and you told me that you weren’t.’

‘Oh, I see what you mean, Rafael. Men.’ She lowered her eyes, torn between telling him the truth and protecting a life she felt he had no right to know about, just as there would be huge tracts of his life he felt she had no right to know about, whatever their marital status.

‘No men. At least…’ She thought of Miguel and hardened her jaw. ‘You don’t have to worry on that front, although if I recall you did say that we could lead separate lives…err…when it came to that kind of thing.’

She began moving away and he caught her by her arm, halting her.

‘That’s what you intend on doing?’ he asked softly, stepping fractionally closer to her.

Her heart was beating fast. Her pulses were racing and her whole nervous system was in free fall.

A passing touch and she was going to pieces! She couldn’t tear her eyes away from his mouth and the feel of his hand on her arm was electric.

‘I… I don’t know what I intend on doing,’ Sofia said breathlessly, inching away as much as she could.

‘I won’t tolerate any affair being flaunted in my face,’ he said flatly.

‘Nor will I!’ Her green eyes flashed and suddenly there was an outpouring of emotion only weakly held in check by the stern lectures she had given herself ever since she had embarked on this road. ‘Whatever you might think of me, this was never what I envisaged for myself when it came to marriage! Yes, I know all about those million and one reasons for going through with it, and yes, I know it’s not going to last for ever and I’ll walk away with lots of money in my bank account. But it still hurts to know that I’m going to tie the knot with some guy who will play around with other women and do his own thing!’

She looked at him fiercely. She felt herself gathering momentum. ‘Furthermore, this is your territory. You’re established here and you don’t care what the world thinks of you or the choices you make! But I… I don’t belong here, so just try and imagine what it’ll feel like if I ever walk into a room to be confronted by some woman you’re bedding behind my back!’

‘You have quite the imagination…’

‘Have I? You might not intend on flaunting anything but are you going to tell me that that world you occupy isn’t a really small one?’

‘It’s small,’ Rafael admitted in a roughened undertone. His grasp on her arm had slackened but he had also closed the tiny distance between them so that she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

‘Women can be vicious,’ Sofia muttered, looking down and thinking of the nasty digs that had plagued her teenage years and the bitchiness of jealous girls who had always guarded their stupid boyfriends against what they’d seen as a possible threat. As if she’d ever been interested in any of them. But still she knew what it felt like to be attacked through no fault of her own.

She shuddered at the thought of having to deal with some woman Rafael might be seeing.

‘Are you speaking from experience?’ he murmured, dropping his hand to his side and stepping back as he stared down at her with his head tilted to one side.

‘The fairer sex can be anything but gentle when it comes to certain things.’ Sofia tilted her head at a challenging angle and folded her arms. Her whole body was still tingling. She felt as though she’d been touched, intimately touched, even though all he’d done was circle her arm with his fingers.

‘Especially given the way you look,’ he said, eyes roving over her flushed face. ‘I get it, cara.’

Thick silence greeted this observation. It stretched and stretched, sending her thoughts into a giddy tailspin, making her mouth dry. It was an effort not to close her eyes and reach up…just a little…enough to brush her lips against his mouth.

Her nipples, pushing against the cotton bra, felt scratchy and over-sensitive and between her legs…felt hot and damp.

Their eyes locked. His breathing was thick and fast, giving her signals she didn’t trust and didn’t want to understand. He took a step towards her, jaw clenched, his body rigid with tension.

Then, just like that, he seemed to gather himself, shutting down an atmosphere that had flared up between them like a sudden, fierce conflagration.

‘Right now…’ His voice was jerky and he raked his fingers through his hair, looking briefly away but then directing his back to her flushed face. ‘We both have enough on our plate without imagining a situation that might or might not happen.’

He walked towards the window, stared out with his back to her and then threw over his shoulder, ‘Now that you’ve seen where you’ll be living, I think we can head back to London. The house should have been ready for you to move in immediately, and I would have returned to London, but there’s been a mix-up with the housekeeper who needs to come in tomorrow to spruce the place up. It would be useful for you to spend the day tomorrow buying whatever clothes you think you might need, anyway. I’ll also make sure you have a car at your disposal. You name the make and the model. When it comes to what happens…outside this marriage…that is a bridge to be crossed in due course, so let’s stick to the present. Meet the parents—or should I say parent—wedding vows exchanged, and once that’s done I get going on sorting out the problem with Freddy. That’s enough to be going on with, wouldn’t you agree?’

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