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One Night in Buenos Aires: The Vásquez Mistress
One Night in Buenos Aires: The Vásquez Mistress
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One Night in Buenos Aires: The Vásquez Mistress

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‘I’ve discovered that Faith’s memory is most adaptable,’ Raul drawled. ‘Occasionally she can forget the most important facts. Like an agreement between two people.’ His words had the desired effect and he watched with grim satisfaction as the last of the colour drained from her cheeks.

‘There was no agreement. I am not one of your business deals. I wish I’d never met you. I hate you, Raul. You are a heartless, cynical, insensitive …’ Her voice tailed off and the doctor gave a small, embarrassed cough.

‘Well—it does appear that she at least knows your name so that’s good. And—er—a little bit about your personality. She told us that she had no family—’

‘I don’t have family.’

The doctor glanced at her and then at Raul. ‘I suppose—’ He coughed nervously. ‘Well, over to you, really.’

‘That’s it? Are you just going to stand there and let him bully you?’ Faith glared at the doctor and when the man didn’t reply she made a sound of disgust. ‘You’re all spineless. I’m telling you, he’s not my family. If I was the last woman left on the planet and he was the last man, then the human race would die.’ Having drawn the battle lines, she turned her head back to Raul and her eyes locked with his in fierce combat.

Raul felt a surge of relief because for a moment he’d wondered if her lack of spirit was something to do with the head injury. But the dangerous shimmer in her eyes reassured him that her accident hadn’t done any permanent damage and despite everything that had happened between them he felt the instantaneous response of his body.

Passion. Hot, searing, blinding passion.

It was always there between them, whatever they were doing.

And that was the problem of course. Their astonishing physical compatibility had made it all too easy to overlook the truth.

They were two people who should never have been together.

Both of them had known it, but the extraordinary chemistry had bound them together when common sense should have dragged them apart.

She was entirely wrong for him. He was entirely wrong for her.

Somehow that hadn’t made a difference.

Aware that the medical staff were rooted to the spot, staring, he rose to his feet and took charge.

‘She has family,’ he said in a driven tone. ‘I’m her husband. And I’ll take over from here.’ Detaching himself from the emotional, he concentrated instead on the practical, his mind shifting into problem-solving mode as he reached into his pocket for his mobile phone.

‘Oh, here we go,’ Faith muttered. ‘Let’s just make another million while we’re hanging around.’

Having accessed a number with a decisive stab of his finger, Raul turned with a mocking smile. ‘I wouldn’t bother switching the phone on for a million, cariño. You should know that by now.’

The doctor cast them both a despairing glance. ‘The two of you clearly have some problems.’

Rising to his feet, Raul dealt the other man a glance that would have silenced a football stadium in full voice. ‘Unless you’re adding psychiatry to your list of questionable medical skills, I suggest you don’t tread where you are bound to lose your footing. She is no longer your responsibility. I’ll be removing her from this place in the next ten minutes.’ Having delivered that missile directly to its target, Raul turned his attention to the man on the end of the phone and switched to his native Spanish.

By the time he’d ended the call, the nurse had retreated and the doctor was sifting through paperwork with shaking hands, clearly worrying about his own position.

‘If you’re taking her then you’ll have to sign something. I won’t be held responsible if anything happens to her. She needs to be in hospital—’

‘Maybe. But not this one.’ With one disdainful sweep of his eyes, Raul took in the state of the ward. ‘What exactly is this place and why hasn’t it been shut down before now?’

‘Shut down?’ The doctor looked scandalised. ‘This is the oldest hospital in London. We have been treating patients in this building since the time of King Henry the Eighth!’

‘It’s a shame no one has bothered to clean the floors since his last visit,’ Raul said coldly and the old lady in the bed opposite Faith clapped her hands in delight.

‘Oh, well said! I do so love a man who is dominant and handsome. These days most men have forgotten how to be real men. If she turns you down, I’m available.’

Amused, Raul turned and flashed her a smile. ‘Gracias, I will remember that.’ His response clearly goaded Faith because she gave a strangled laugh.

‘He’s the worst of a bad bunch. If you’re looking for a man who shoulders responsibility, then don’t look at this one, Mrs Hitchin.’

‘I could look at him all day,’ Mrs Hitchin said happily, adjusting her hearing aid. ‘I think he’s gorgeous.’

‘Actually he’s a sex-mad control freak,’ Faith muttered and Raul gave a twisted smile.

‘One wonders why, with that glowing opinion of my qualities, you were so grimly determined to drag me to the altar by any means at your disposal.’

Faith lifted her chin and her beautiful eyes flashed at him.

‘I did not drag you. Since when have you ever done anything that didn’t suit you? Your life is one long selfish, self-indulgent ego trip.’

‘You put me in an impossible position!’ His tone thickened, Raul felt his tension levels soar into the stratosphere. He hadn’t intended to tackle the issue here but even without spelling it out it was there in the room with them, hovering between them.

He saw that she was shaking and his eyes scanned the pale flesh of her smooth, slender arms, his treacherous mind turning to thoughts of sex. Those arms had been entwined round his neck, curved round his body as she’d urged him on. Those eyes that now flashed in anger had softened and tempted as she’d lured him on an erotic journey from which neither of them had emerged unscathed.

What they had shared was so powerful that even now he could taste it in the air. Even now, with all that lay between them, he knew that he could turn her from spitting hell-cat to purring kitten with one skilful touch of his mouth.

Only with supreme effort of will did Raul prevent himself from reaching out and flattening her against the bed.

And she knew.

She’d always known the effect she had on him. And she’d loved to tease and prolong the agony for both of them, using those jewel-bright green eyes of hers to raise the temperature from hot to raging inferno. With sideways glances, slow smiles and the sensuous swing of her hips she’d stoked the fire of his libido, pushing and pushing until his control had finally cracked. And when it had, she’d taken him into her soft, pulsing body, her desperation matching his.

In some ways their entire relationship had been a power struggle.

And for a while she’d won.

Only she was showing no signs of celebrating her victory.

‘Just get out, Raul,’ she said, and her voice held a quiver of vulnerability that he hadn’t expected. ‘It’s over. You wanted an escape, well, I’m giving you one. Get out.’

‘It would have been a great deal better for both of us had you realised that a few months ago. As it is, your timing is unfortunate. I’m your husband, cariño, although you could be forgiven for forgetting that fact, given that we were married for all of two hours before you ran away.’

‘I didn’t run away. I’m not a child or a convict. I left because I discovered what a monumental mistake I’d made about you. I wouldn’t have married you at all if I’d known what you were like.’

Remembering the circumstances of their wedding, Raul gave a bitter laugh. ‘I think we both know that isn’t the case. Anyway, you made your bed and fortunately for you it’s a great deal more comfortable than the one you’re lying in at the moment.’

‘I’m not going with you, Raul, and you can’t make me. I’m not one of your staff.’

‘If one of my staff had behaved the way you did,’ he snapped, ‘they would no longer be working for me. Unfortunately we are now legally bound, so firing you isn’t an option. Believe me, I’ve considered it.’ His phone rang and he took the call, simmering with dark, deadly emotion, his eyes on hers as he listened and then broke the connection.

‘My plane has been refuelled, a medical team is now on board and we take off in an hour from now.’

She shrank away from him. ‘I’m not well enough to go with you. I haven’t fully recovered.’

‘Then you can complete your recovery in the sunshine by my pool,’ he returned in a cool tone and she flopped back against the pillows, looking drained and exhausted. Raul wondered grimly whether her pallor was a reflection of the effort the confrontation had required, or the fact that she was contemplating the reality of being back in a marriage that she never should have entered in the first place.

You wanted a war, my beauty, he thought bitterly, and you fired the first shot. Now live with the consequences.

CHAPTER FOUR

TWENTY-FOUR hours later, Faith was lying on a sun-lounger under the shade of a huge umbrella. In front of her lay the perfectly still waters of the most stunning pool she’d ever seen and all around her a profusion of exotic plants and trees gave her the impression of being deep in a lush rainforest.

Once they’d landed in Buenos Aires she’d expected him to take her straight back to the estancia, but instead he’d taken one look at her pale face and given instructions for them to be taken straight to the Vásquez building, his corporate headquarters in the smartest district of the vibrant South American city.

She’d swiftly discovered that his corporate headquarters was crowned by a breathtaking penthouse apartment, complete with a lush, exotic roof garden.

He’d taken her straight up to this outdoor paradise but she found herself wondering about the apartment. When did he use it? And what for?

Already aware of just how little she knew him, this further question gnawed away inside her but she forced herself not to think about it. She had other, more pressing issues demanding her attention: like the reason he’d brought her back to Argentina.

When she’d stumbled away from him on their wedding day, she hadn’t thought for a moment that he’d follow her. Why would he, when he’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t love her?

Remembering the things that he’d said to her, she gave a shiver.

She’d been so utterly shocked by what had happened that her only thought had been to get as far away from him as possible.

For the sake of her own mental health, she’d known that she could have nothing more to do with him. She’d felt dead inside, as if the most important part of her had been gouged out. She’d loved him so much and the ten months they’d spent together had been the happiest of her life.

It was almost impossible to believe that it had all gone so dramatically wrong.

That she’d been so wrong about him.

Faith reached for the glass of chilled lemonade that had been left within her reach and took a sip, completely unable to relax because she knew that Raul would reappear at some point.

What was he doing? Was he working? How could he work when their marriage was in its death throes?

She glanced up and saw him strolling across the sun-baked terrace towards her. He’d showered and changed after the flight and was now wearing a pale shirt with lightweight trousers. An air of leashed power emanated from his tall, athletic frame and Faith’s mouth dried.

For a moment she had no idea what to say to him. She wanted to shout at him, she wanted to hit him until she made dents in that spectacular body of his, but most of all she just wanted to lie down and sob because it just never should have been like this between them.

In the end she just stayed on the sun-lounger and didn’t move, too drained to do any of the things in her mind.

The fact that he looked perfectly groomed despite the pressure of the situation came as no surprise to her. Raul had been born and bred in Buenos Aires and if there was one thing that her travels in South America had taught her, it was that the body-conscious Brazilians were nothing compared to the pride of the average Argentine male.

In fact, Raul was less obsessed than most but she’d long ago come to the conclusion that that was because he was so much more beautiful than most. He didn’t have to try. Even if he never glanced in a mirror again, he would still be unable to walk down a street without attracting an almost stifling degree of dazed female attention.

‘Next time you decide to run away, stop when you reach the end of the drive,’ he advised in an acid tone. ‘I have just spent the entire morning unravelling problems that occurred while I was chasing you across the globe.’

‘I didn’t ask you to come after me.’

‘You left me no choice. If you wanted an open marriage, you shouldn’t have picked a South American male.’ He turned his head and miraculously a team of staff appeared.

Faith watched in silence as they laid a table and served lunch. ‘I’m not hungry.’

‘You need to eat.’

She glanced at him then and immediately wished she hadn’t because it was immediately apparent that the way he’d treated her hadn’t done anything to reduce the physical impact of the man.

He was well over six feet tall, lean and hard muscled and he moved with a predatory grace that was unequivocally male. Strong and athletic, he pushed himself to the limits in every aspect of his life—work, play, exercise, sex—for Raul it was all about being the best and he accepted nothing less.

‘Don’t let me hold you up,’ she said politely. ‘I’m sure you’re dying to eat and return to your work.’

‘Having solved the immediate crisis I have no intention of working this afternoon.’ His expression grim, he sat down on one of the chairs and served himself. ‘There are more important issues at stake.’

‘More important than your work?’ Despite everything that lay between them, she found herself laughing but she stopped herself quickly because she couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t going to end in a sob. ‘And I thought I was the one who had the bang on the head.’

She felt strangely disconnected, making polite conversation with a man who didn’t know the meaning of the term, when beneath the surface of conventional chat there lay a deep chasm of trouble and turbulence.

They’d never resorted to ‘polite’ before.

Their entire relationship had been a full-on explosion of exquisite passion, so uncontrolled and ferocious in its intensity that it had burned everything in its path.

She’d been crazy about him. And crazy to get involved with him when she had known his reputation for hurting women.

What had made her think she would be different?

What had made her think she could handle him when plenty of women before her had tried and failed?

She’d thought she understood him but she’d discovered too late that she’d barely scratched the surface. Raul Vásquez was a complex, volatile man, his character so full of dark, hidden corners that she suspected no woman would ever know him.

And now she was seeing a different side to him—the side that had made him a billionaire.

He was sharply intelligent but instead of his usual dry observations and smart comments, he was focused and on his guard. Intimidating. She’d been brought up to question and challenge and never to be afraid of anyone, but there was something about the harsh lines of his impossibly handsome features that made her want to just shrink into silence.

Over the past couple of weeks she’d gone from lover to adversary and no one in their right mind would choose Raul as an opponent.

His sexy mouth was set in a grim line and the unshakeable confidence that had made her weak at the knees made him seem more formidable than ever.

No wonder everyone just rolled over and played ball when he walked into a room, Faith thought hopelessly as she watched him take a sip of wine. In his current mood he wasn’t a man that anybody would bother challenging.

Faith felt her stomach drop and told herself it was just part of the head injury. Hadn’t they warned her she’d feel nauseous from time to time? It was nothing to do with Raul’s presence. She couldn’t possibly still feel anything for him. Not after what he’d said to her. What he’d believed of her.

Their relationship was dead in the water.

And she really didn’t know what he was doing here.

He rolled his shoulders to ease the tension and despite all her determined resolutions, Faith’s eyes were drawn to the swell of muscle visible beneath the fabric of his shirt. He had an incredible body. Hard, strong, powerful and capable of encouraging an unbelievable response from hers.

Raul caught the look and his eyes darkened. ‘Don’t,’ he warned and his eyes seemed to deepen in colour to a dangerous, stormy shade of black. ‘Don’t look at me like that and don’t bring sex into this or so help me I’ll—’ He broke off, his emotions so close to the surface that he clearly didn’t trust himself to finish the sentence.

‘Do you seriously think I’m lying here thinking about sex?’ Her defence was attack, but the truth was that she had been thinking about sex and she knew that while she was still able to breathe, this man would always have that effect on her. And she on him. There was something between them that transcended all the rules.

One look was all it took.