The Spaniard's Revenge. Susan StephensЧитать онлайн книгу.
threw him a look full of accusation. ‘And what’s this…don’t tell me—’
Xavier followed her through an impressive archway, hand-carved in wood, into another large room.
Standing on the threshold, Sophie planted her hands on her hips and looked around. ‘The bathroom you mentioned—all clad in marble, and a Jacuzzi made for two.’
‘Shall we try it out?’
There was laughter in Xavier’s eyes, Sophie noticed, and something else. Strange forces were beginning to invade her senses, and before she could turn away from him they turned her limbs soft and compliant where only moments ago she had been stiff with defiance. She tried putting Xavier out of her mind, but the light was hazy gold filtered through muslin at the windows, and the temperature was body warm. There was a beguiling aroma, as if someone had been in just before them to spritz some rare and exotic scent into the air. She had never seen such a selection of full-sized bath oils and lotions in her life, and though she recognised most of the exclusive names the temptation to open just one or two was overwhelming. She felt like a child let loose in a sweet shop…except the sweetness here offered a different kind of stimulation, and she felt her nipples tightening in response as she paused and cast another look at Xavier. Rancho del Condor was a place out of time, a magical, mystical place and, for a few rare moments, even the fear of raw masculinity she had lived with all her life seemed to recede. Surely she hadn’t come to such a dramatic and beautiful land as Peru to endure the same hang-ups she lived with back home?
Sophie cast a languorous stare through the voile-draped window at the vista of rock face and foliage that lay beyond the luxury villa. She was alone with Xavier in a romantic setting she had never expected to encounter in Peru, let alone with him. It was an opportunity that might never come again—but there was his pride to contend with; she had pushed him away, acted like an ice-queen. But that didn’t make the compulsion to feel his strength beneath her hands go away.
Sophie gazed up. She was close enough to inhale Xavier’s warm, spicy scent—close enough to touch him, to hold him. She was bathed in his aura, intoxicated by her surroundings, and emotions that had been suppressed too long made her reckless. Reaching out, she rested her hands either side of his waist, fingers splaying down to embrace the strength in his hips.
Xavier jerked back, leaving her dazed for a moment.
‘What are you doing?’ His eyes narrowed. This wasn’t how he planned it. She got it on his terms, or not at all. He gave the stark outline of her erect nipples a frank appraisal. She had great breasts, full and tip-tilted. He could imagine her naked without any trouble—fine-boned frame, long, slender legs to wrap around his waist, and those full lips parted just like they were now, but noisily sucking in plumes of air when he finally gave her what she was begging for. He had seen that look on women’s faces countless times before. It had ceased to stir him way back, but the sight of Sophie Ford in an erotic frenzy pleased him greatly. It made him more determined than ever to keep her waiting. By punishing the daughter he could already feel some small relief, as if he was reaching down into hell and punishing her father as well.
He saw her eyes clear. She seemed lost, dazed. If he hadn’t known her father he might have been fooled at that moment into thinking she had suddenly come to her senses. But hadn’t he seen that look somewhere before—that mock-penitent I’m-as-innocent-as-the-day-is-long look? It was exactly the same expression her father had worn right after the accident! Did she think she could play him like a pike on a line? No problem, Dr Ford, Xavier mused sardonically. If that’s where you’re coming from, I’ll give you all the sex you want—but at a time of my own choosing, not yours.
‘I need to check you out for signs of concussion, and take a look at that leg,’ he said, a pleasant and professional tone masking the true line of his thoughts. ‘There should be a first aid kit in this cupboard.’
Shock at what she had done—at Xavier’s reaction to it—filled Sophie with successive waves of fury and shame. ‘You seem to know this place well,’ she said angrily, defensively.
‘I should do,’ Xavier said cuttingly, removing what he needed from a square white box. ‘It belongs to my mother.’
Sophie’s face reddened as she realised her mistake.
‘I come here on a regular basis to check on things for her. Check the KPIs against the targets and budgets I’ve agreed with the local management—’
‘KPIs?’ Sophie seized the chance to return to safer ground.
‘Key performance indicators—companies have vital signs just like the body,’ Xavier said, glancing up. ‘It’s how I measure all my business activities, and my staff’s performance—’
‘Even mine?’ she cut in, then immediately wished she hadn’t.
‘I haven’t got round to you yet. But I will,’ he promised. ‘Now, take your jeans off.’
Sophie’s mouth dried. ‘I’ll roll them back.’
With a fast, impatient glance, Xavier caught hold of her calf. ‘Will you relax while I clean this leg?’ he demanded as she tensed.
Sophie complied, bracing herself against his touch as much as the antiseptic. ‘How long will you stay here?’ she said to distract herself.
‘I’d no intention of staying here at all until you turned up. I only broke my journey to collect the data I mentioned. This project is as important in its way as the medical programme. It brings much-needed work to the area.’
‘Your mother’s idea?’
‘Rancho del Condor was my gift to her. She needed something after—’ He stopped as if he had said too much. A flare of anger touched his face, and he let go of her leg as if suddenly he couldn’t bear to touch her. Then, gathering himself, he continued treating her again as if nothing untoward had occurred.
He had supported his mother to take her mind off the tragic death of Armando, her younger son, to bring a sense of purpose back into her life. Sophie couldn’t help but feel a little warmer towards him. He was a difficult man, but he still cared.
‘I have always handled the business end for her,’ Xavier said, cutting into her musings. ‘But without my mother’s flair…’ He shrugged expressively as he looked up. Briefly their eyes locked, and then he looked away.
She should have known, Sophie thought. Everything about the exclusive establishment bore the unmistakable stamp of Xavier’s glamorous Italian mother. She could only guess at the emotional wounds that the woman must have sustained following the tragic death of Xavier’s brother. Now there was someone who must truly hate her family and everyone connected with it, she realised, suppressing a shudder.
‘Am I hurting you?’ Xavier asked, misreading the movement beneath his hands.
‘No, not at all,’ Sophie said. ‘You were telling me about your mother,’ she prompted, hungry to hear more.
‘She stayed at a few luxury lodges in Africa, and persuaded me that something similar could be achieved here—a retreat from the stresses of the city where the comfort of the guests doesn’t come at the expense of the environment. You’re fine,’ he said, reverting to doctor-speak again. ‘You’re shaken up, a few scratches; you’ve been lucky.’
‘Thank you, Doctor.’
‘Don’t mention it.’
For a brief moment, as he straightened up, they almost smiled at each other, and then, as if remembering the roles the past had imposed upon them, they became guarded again.
‘Perhaps I should take you back to base. It would be simpler—’
‘For you, or for me?’ Sophie broke in. ‘I’ve no intention of being stuck on the sidelines, Xavier, while you do all the things I read about in my joining details.’ As his eyes flared a warning, Sophie seized the challenge. ‘I may work for you, but please remember I signed a contract based on your promotional material. Are you telling