The Buenos Aires Marriage Deal Page 4

  Almost complete silence reigned on the journey back to the house. Both parties were painfully, acutely aware of the shattered past that lay between them, and they barely knew how to raise the topic again—a topic that was akin to negotiating a bed of jagged broken glass in their bare feet.

  Inevitably, the growing tension gathered uncomfortable strength in the small luxurious space that was the passenger seat of the Rolls…like a small but lethal storm about to break. There had already been evidence of thunder and lightning. Thinking back to the scene in the gaming room earlier, when Pascual had let his temper and impatience with her spill over, Briana knew a major confrontation was definitely brewing.

  Protectively, she folded her arms over her middle, the too intimate scent of his aftershave and his disturbing body heat unsettling her even more. Everything about the imposing man beside her seemed to emphatically illustrate the marked differences between them. He was wealthy, beautiful and powerful—and as out of reach as he had always been. Oh, he might have professed to love her but he had always held something back…something that had fuelled Briana’s already damaging belief that she really wasn’t quite good enough for him after all. When she’d seen him kissing his elegant model ex-girlfriend at that tension-filled family party it had inevitably highlighted all her very worst fears that their union wouldn’t last—that she wasn’t just ‘not good enough’ but not enough…period! Now she turned her face away to try and prevent herself from weeping.

  Back inside the house, she prayed hard that the confrontation that was definitely imminent would not be tonight. Briana knew she was only putting off the inevitable, but somehow she was feeling far too vulnerable to get into another painful argument with Pascual now—with both of them aiming accusations at each other like lethal missiles and scoring devastating hits. A good night’s sleep might help strengthen her besieged resources, so she could face him tomorrow instead.

  They were standing at the foot of the impressive Tudor staircase, and she tentatively touched the carved oak handrail, as if to signify her intention to retire. But Pascual’s glance was thoughtfully brooding, and it confirmed to her that she would not be allowed to dismiss him or say goodnight as easily as that.

  ‘When I set out from Buenos Aires I had a feeling that something disturbing was going to happen,’ he remarked, low-voiced.

  As if feeling a chill, Briana rubbed her hands up and down her arms in the thin silk sleeves of her blouse. ‘I don’t want to ruin your trip, Pascual…honestly, I don’t. I know the hurt and resentment you must feel towards me probably still runs deep, but—’

  ‘You are right about that!’ His dark eyes flashed, as though his emotions were simmering fire contained behind a mere thin veil. Any moment now the heated sparks would flare into an inferno and incinerate the veil to nothing.

  ‘Look,’ she went on, praying he would hear her out and agree, ‘tomorrow, after the polo match that’s been lined up for you to go to, there’ll be time to please yourself what you do next. I’ll be here overseeing the arrangements for dinner if you want to come back and talk to me then. I promise I’ll give you as long as you like and I won’t cut our meeting short. Please, Pascual…It’s been a long day and I’m tired tonight.’

  ‘You always did manage to get your own way whenever you looked at me like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like a sad, lost little girl.’ His lips were twisting wryly, but perhaps with a hint of bitterness in them too, Pascual reached out and touched his fingertips to Briana’s soft cheek. ‘You could wrap me round your little finger when we were together, and that is the truth!’

  ‘Is it?’ Hardly daring to breathe, Briana felt the blood thicken and slow in her veins. There was a tight, coiled feeling in her womb.

  ‘More fool you if you did not know it!’ His countenance was unremittingly harsh for a second, but in the next instant it visibly softened and became almost too beguiling for words. Certainly too beguiling for her to resist. ‘I will let you go to bed if you give me a kiss,’ he intoned huskily. ‘For old times’ sake.’

  Briana was not given time to give Pascual an answer, because suddenly his mouth was on hers, his velvet tongue sliding commandingly between her already partially opened soft lips and dancing with hers in hot, erotic foreplay that heated her blood to fire and stole all the strength from her limbs as though her legs had been violently swept away at the knees.

  His hands possessively cupped her hips, impelling them hungrily towards him, and he briefly withdrew his mouth from her lips and suckled the sensitive skin at the side of her neck. When she felt his teeth graze the surface hard enough to sting, Briana gasped out loud. She was drowning in an erotic sea in which she barely had enough strength left with which to swim. If she didn’t stop this intoxicating insanity right now then she had no doubt she would not be spending the night in her room’s stately four-poster bed alone.

  The thought both shocked and terrified her. As far as she was concerned Pascual Dominguez was a force of nature she could never resist—yet how could she contemplate sleeping with him again when he was not even aware that they had a son together? Her sin, if sin it was, would be compounded way beyond repair.

  ‘You must stop!’ Her breathing ragged, she pushed her hands with as much force as she could muster against a chest that was like the hardest steel wall.

  ‘Why?’ A silky lock of sable hair flopped sexily across his tanned brow and his expression was mockingly defiant. ‘Because you are afraid I will keep you up all night doing all the things I used to do to you that you professed drove you wild, carino mio?’

  Capturing the handrail for much-needed support, Briana couldn’t do one thing about the scarlet flush that she knew seared her face. There wasn’t a single inch on her entire body that wasn’t burning up with heat at the images Pascual’s taunting words so vividly conjured up. When it came to making love, the passion and fire in him had always taken her breath away and made her half crazy with loving him and wanting him, she remembered, aching with sudden renewed longing. But she had to be strong!

  ‘I’m here to work…not to provide night-time entertainment for my clients!’ she told him indignantly.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it. Because I have no doubt given the chance the admiring Mr Nichols would be at the head of the queue, amante!’

  Briana shuddered. ‘Even if that were true, I can assure you I’m not remotely interested in the man.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘You don’t like him?’

  ‘I have not seen much to make me particularly warm to him as yet,’ Pascual confessed candidly. ‘This is by no means a done deal, you may be surprised to learn. Like I said before…it is not just about money. I have to be certain that my ponies are going to genuine horse-lovers and will be taken care of as excellently and as well as their pedigree and training dictates they should be.’

  ‘The stables that they own at Windsor certainly have an impressive reputation, so I hear.’

  ‘That may be so…But it is a very recent acquisition for our three businessmen friends, having only lately discovered their passion for polo…That is no guarantee that they know how to run a stable successfully or take care of the ponies.’

  ‘Surely there are people there who will know how to do that for them?’

  ‘Even so…’ Pascual shrugged. ‘But that is enough talk of business for tonight.’

  Moving closer, he let his long hands with their surprisingly artistic fingers come to rest either side of Briana’s slender upper arms. ‘I am sure you are aware that I am much more interested in getting you to agree to spend just one more night with me than in discussing anything else.’

  ‘Why?’ Her gaze was steady and direct, even though her heart was racing. ‘For old times’ sake? Or just to prove you can? Let me save you any doubt if doubt—is what you are suffering from, Pascual. Yes, I still find you attractive, and, yes, I could probably quite easily let you seduce me. But we both know in our hearts it wouldn’t be the b
est of ideas, and it probably wouldn’t leave either of us feeling very good. Not physically…but mentally, psychologically, I mean. What we had was in the past and, however badly it ended, I really think that that’s where it should stay.’

  ‘And leave things as unsatisfactorily unfinished between us as ever?’ His expression was scornful. ‘That may suit you, Briana but it does not suit me. I have already had to wait five years to hear from your own lips a full explanation as to why you left, and learning that you saw my ex kissing me at that party is only the tip of the iceberg, I am sure!’

  ‘I promised I would talk to you tomorrow, didn’t I?’

  ‘Yes, you did. But, as I am already aware to my detriment that your promises are hardly the lasting kind, you can see why I have my doubts.’

  Swallowing hard, Briana felt guilt, regret and dread wash through her with equal force. If her capacity for being honest was in dispute right now, how was Pascual going to react tomorrow when she told him about the son whose existence she had deliberately kept from him? Her legs felt so weak she wondered how on earth she remained standing.

  ‘Very well.’ It seemed he had reluctantly come to a decision. ‘We will continue this discussion tomorrow, after I return from the polo match. Now…I am going to go and help myself to a nightcap, then sit in the drawing room for a while and imagine you all alone in your bed to see what fantasies I can conjure up about what you will be wearing. I know you always resisted sleeping naked…is that still the case?’

  Remembering how he’d used to tease her about her ‘charming modesty’, Briana gripped the stair-rail a little harder as she also recollected that—no matter whether she’d worn something in bed or not—Pascual had always ensured that she ended up naked.

  ‘Goodnight, Pascual,’ she murmured, electing to ignore the tantalising question altogether.

  ‘Buenas noches, Briana.’

  Turning abruptly away with a little half-smile, he made the long walk down the carpeted oak floor to the drawing room. All the while Briana’s anxious gaze cleaved to his tall, straight back—until he went inside the door and disappeared from view. The intoxicating taste of him was still clinging to her mouth like some kind of drugging nectar, making her perversely wish for a very different ending to their evening together indeed…

  CHAPTER FOUR

  IT SOUNDED as if someone was trying to break down the door. Her heart beating like a loud bass drum, Briana let her gaze adjust to the dark for a second, before leaning over to the bedside lamp and switching it on. As soon as light flooded the room she was out of bed in a flash, hurrying to see who her urgent-sounding caller was. Her mind was wild with fear that something unthinkable might have happened to her son.

  The figure that loomed up before her out of the semi-darkened corridor was Pascual, and he was glaring at her like a man holding onto the last vestiges of his self-control. His furious, contemptuous gaze seared her to the spot with its ferocity.

  ‘You heartless, selfish little bitch!’ he spat out.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked weakly, her hand nervously going to the V of her short cotton nightie. She was afraid she knew the answer.

  Kicking the door shut behind him with the heel of his shoe, he moved towards Briana in head-to-toe black clothing, like some deadly feral panther alighting on his kill, and she honestly thought she might pass out in shock. She was almost tripping over her own feet in her anxious bid to get away, but nonetheless Pascual easily caught her and impelled her towards him, his hard chest acting like an impenetrable wall to confound her escape.

  ‘You have a son! A four-year old son! He’s mine, isn’t he? He must be mine! Even you would not have deceived me with another man when we were together…not when I made sure that practically every night you were kept occupied in my bed!’

  For long, excruciating seconds every possibility of speech deserted Briana. Staring up into the sea of pain and accusation bearing down on her in Pascual’s scorching livid gaze, she felt her stomach clench sickeningly with fear and regret.

  ‘How did—?’ she began brokenly, hardly even feeling the immovable band of his fingers that was tightly circling her small-boned wrist. ‘How did you find out?’

  ‘Your colleague Tina was most illuminating about a lot of things,’ he answered scathingly. ‘I found her alone in the drawing room, reading, and I suggested she share a nightcap with me. Sitting by a cosy fire, it did not take long for alcohol to loosen her already willing tongue. Before I knew it she was practically telling me your life story!’

  ‘She—she wouldn’t!’

  Throwing Briana’s arm away, as if her touch was nothing less than poison, Pascual snorted. ‘How little you seem to know about human nature…No wonder your business is failing! Did you not know that anyone can be bought for a price? In your colleague’s case just a small sherry was enough for her to spill all your guilty secrets at my feet…like a treasure trove!’

  Lost for words for a second time, Briana threaded her fingers through her tousled hair in deepening anguish. If only Tina had not been so free with her conversation, or had made the decision to retire to bed the same time as her boss instead of sitting up to be dazzled by Pascual’s undoubted charm! But what troubled her the most was the fact that he had discovered the existence of his son not from his mother but from a gossipy colleague! No wonder he was enraged. Nothing would prevent her from taking the full brunt of the blame, even though she still believed she had had good reason to leave him.

  ‘Yes…Adán is your son.’ Her mouth was almost too dry to get the words out. Wincing, she lifted her gaze to meet the blistering reply of the man whose sheer charismatic presence seemed to fill up the room, making her feel as if she was relegated to just a small corner of it.

  ‘Adán?’ His voice grated, as if he too were having trouble with words. ‘You had the temerity to call him by a Spanish name and not even let me—his father—know of his existence…why?’

  Moving his head from side to side, Pascual couldn’t hide his torment and Briana’s heart went out to him—even though she knew he would likely despise and detest any compassion she demonstrated.

  ‘Why did I give him a Spanish name?’

  ‘No! Why did you keep the fact that you were pregnant from me and disregard my feelings as though they were of no account whatsoever? I thought that you could not hurt me any worse than you did when you left…without giving me even the smallest indication that you were planning such an unbelievable act. But now I have discovered that you are capable of far worse crimes. I was wrong to think that I knew you, Briana…Your behaviour is beyond my understanding and makes you an utter stranger to me!’

  Staring at her, Pascual saw a myriad of emotions cross her pale just-stirred-from-sleep face. But he wished he could see more than just the evidence of feelings there. He wished he had a mental microscope to probe deep inside her heart and see if he could understand what had motivated her to deal him such a cruel and yet perversely wondrous blow all at the same time?

  The news that he was a father had turned his whole world upside down, and it was by far the most momentous thing he had ever heard. But right now rage and despair were the prevalent emotions crashing through him, battering him like a violent cyclone at the thought that he had already missed out on four years of his child’s life because of the woman that stood in front of him.

  Had he somehow treated her so badly that she would act in such a vicious way towards him? He did not think so. From the first he had always treated her with the utmost care and respect…hadn’t he? Because of the immense gravity of what she’d done to him, there was a painful glimmer of doubt in Pascual’s mind. Had he missed out something important? Searching his memory with rapier-like honesty, he could recall nothing that he’d done or said to wound her in any way. Apart from that unfortunate scene at the party that his inebriated ex had instigated—the incident which he had tried to explain had been genuinely nothing to do with him…No, he concluded. That could not be the only reason she had ke
pt him in the dark about his child. This was all about what had been going on with Briana personally, and he vowed he would let nothing stand in the way of his getting to the bottom of it.

  Looking distressed, she brushed back her hair with a trembling hand, and Pascual’s attention was helplessly drawn to the short pastel blue night garment she wore that resembled an oversized T-shirt—probably a chainstore item that had not been designed to be alluring in any way, he guessed. Her lack of sophistication and guile-free attitude towards things like that had once totally charmed him. And even now, in the midst of his disbelief and despair at what she had done, his libido was unequivocally and treacherously aroused by the sight of her body in the plain, nondescript nightwear…the firm rounded breasts that pressed against the thin material, nipples provocatively erect, the perfect Botticelli angel-like curve of her hips and her long shapely bare thighs.

  ‘I’ve anguished so long about talking to you about things. Then it turned out you’re the VIP guest this weekend and—and it was such a shock. I wasn’t deliberately trying to avoid discussing what happened between us earlier…I just needed time to get my bearings.’

  ‘So now you have had plenty of time to deal with the fact that I am here—and you owe me an explanation…to put it mildly!’

  ‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Moving gracefully towards the striped pink and cream slipper chair that she’d laid her robe across, she gathered up the flimsy blue garment and slipped it on over the matching oversized T-shirt, leaving the chair empty.

  Barely knowing how to contain his impatience and frustration at what he perceived to be deliberate delaying tactics, Pascual threw up his hands in temper. ‘Do not tell me what to do!’ A string of Spanish invective escaped him, and he saw the frisson of fear that flickered across the darkened grey irises, but just then he refused to concern himself with the fact she might be intimidated by him. ‘All I want is a truthful explanation of your actions. After that…’