In the Argentine's Bed / Secret Baby, Public Affair. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.
looked at Susannah, slim and lovely and nervous as a hungry cat, twisting her fingers and toying with the skirt of her dress.
The nurse left the room with the sample.
Amado didn’t take his eyes off Susannah. “Let’s go eat lunch.”
“I should head for the airport. I need to get back to New York.”
So easy for her to just leave. Clearly, leaving was part of her modus operandi in life. Dust off her hands, and move on.
He wasn’t ready for her to leave yet. “You can’t go until we have the results.”
“Why not?”
“Because I might pay off the lab to get the results I want.” He narrowed his eyes.
“You couldn’t. They have a stellar reputation.”
He cocked his head. “Any man, or woman…has their price.” He glanced meaningfully at the door. Which opened to admit the brisk blond nurse.
“All under way. We should have results in five days.”
“Five days?” Amado rose to his feet, almost knocking over the chair.
“That’s our minimum period of time for accurate analysis.” The nurse shuffled a stack of papers. “We’ll call and let you know when the results are in.”
Amado glared at Susannah. She was heading back to her ordinary life and leaving him to deal with the fallout from the tests. Resentment tangled with unspent desire in his chest.
“What time is your plane?”
“I’ll take the first plane I can board to Santiago, Chile. My flight for New York leaves from there tonight.” Susannah followed the nurse out the door into the waiting area.
“You had your ticket booked the whole time? You must have been very sure of getting your sample.”
The nurse glanced back at him. Most likely she thought Susannah was collecting his DNA to prove paternity of their child. It rankled him that anyone could think of him as the kind of cad who’d dispute such a thing.
“I was hopeful.” Susannah avoided his glance as she thanked the receptionist and paid by credit card.
Of course, she couldn’t have suspected he’d persuade her to sleep with him.
Could she?
A growing sense of panic gripped Susannah as Amado pulled into a parking space at the airport.
He lifted her suitcase from the trunk. “You’ll come back when the new Malbec is ready?” He looked toward the terminal as if he didn’t care one way or the other.
Likely it would be an inconvenience for him if she came back. Awkward and embarrassing. He’d have enjoyed several more encounters with visiting females by then. Possibly he’d have forgotten her.
She didn’t want to look like she cared, either.
“I’d love to, but I’m afraid it depends upon my schedule. I have a series of trips to Europe and South Africa over the upcoming months.”
She did her best to sound businesslike, talking about Tierra de Oro’s projected production and Hardcastle’s possible orders. Of course, she had no idea if any of it would come to fruition. Likely the DNA test and its resultant emotional fall out would determine Tarrant’s order one way or the other.
Did she regret what she’d done?
A little. She had a strange sense of having unleashed a genie. Exciting but scary.
Amado’s dark eyes still shone with desire. No doubt her own did, too.
Desire wasn’t something you could control. You could choose not to act on it, but you couldn’t make it go away.
If you did act on it, you could end up like Tarrant Hardcastle with a host of unplanned children and a lifetime of complications.
Misgivings tightened her muscles. She had a strange feeling she’d never forget her night with Amado. How would she feel now, alone in her bed, tormented by memories of intimacy and passion she could never have imagined?
At the security check-in, he held her face between his hands and kissed her full on the mouth. Arousal kicked through her as his tongue danced with hers right there in line at the ticket counter, surrounded by the swirling, impatient crowds.
Don’t think you’ll get off so easy, his kiss seemed to say.
Her mouth throbbed as he pulled back. Her stomach clenched and she wobbled on her heels.
Triumph glittered in Amado’s eyes. Then he frowned. “You’ll call me with the results?”
A cool shiver crept down her spine. “I suspect someone from Tarrant’s office will call you. I don’t usually have anything to do with his private business. I’m just here as an envoy.”
“An envoy of distressing news. You’re brave.”
“Or desperate to keep my job.” She attempted levity. “You can’t say no to Tarrant Hardcastle. But I doubt they’ll even tell me the results.”
Amado’s frown deepened. “I’ll tell you.”
That reassurance of future contact made her heart swell. The thought of just…leaving and never seeing him again was too grim to contemplate.
She was sure he’d call her to laugh and joke if the result was what he hoped for.
But if it wasn’t?
Susannah pretended to fumble with her ticket as Amado turned and strode away. She couldn’t help turning to catch a last glimpse of him as he disappeared through the door.
So tall and proud and strong, his passion evident in everything he did. His connection to the estate and his family so deep as to be unquestionable.
She chewed a manicured fingernail and hoped like hell that Tarrant was wrong.
Susannah’s heart thundered as she climbed the wide, polished stairs to the El Cubano cigar bar on Manhattan’s Fifth Avenue. One week had passed since her return from Argentina, and Tarrant Hardcastle had summoned her to his exclusive watering hole to thank her for retrieving—his word—Amado’s DNA.
She had no idea what the results were. But would he ask her here if the trip had been a waste of time?
She gave her coat to the stunning coat-check girl and followed the maître d’ into the hushed space. The lack of cigar smoke surprised her, since men sat all around, sunk deep into leather chairs, with expensive bundles of rolled leaves burning in their hands.
On the far side of the room they reached the imposing backs of a pair of chairs arranged in front of a window. The leather thrones enjoyed a spectacular view over Fifth Avenue.
“Mr. Hardcastle, your guest has arrived.”
Susannah sucked in a smoke-free breath as her boss rose and greeted her. Even rows of white teeth shone in his tanned face.
He was disturbingly youthful-looking for sixty-seven, in a way that could not be entirely natural.
Everything about the man was frightening.
She tried not to wince or fall over as he kissed her on both cheeks. An extravagant gesture of greeting for a boss she barely saw.
“Thank you, my dear.” His blue-green eyes glittered with emotion.
Uh-oh.
“Thank you for finding my son.”
Susannah’s mouth fell open and her stomach plummeted.
“He is your son?” she rasped.
“Ninety-nine-point-nine percent certain. It doesn’t get more definite than that.” He gestured at the plush leather armchair opposite his. “Sit.”
Susannah