Daphne's Christmas Flame

by Carol Storm

  “Victor. Please, I never meant to hurt you. I don’t want—” Daphne didn’t want a quickie. She didn’t want a taste of what she could never have. She didn’t want to feel so much. But she was aware of everything. She felt the sizzle in the air, the hum of the generators. She smelled the musk of her own arousal and the spicier smell of Victor’s expensive cologne.

  And then he kissed her. And she was lost.

  Victor never meant to kiss the cold-hearted English bitch. For the past five years, he had focused only on Daphne Hart’s betrayal, not on her beautiful body or her lush lips or her tender heart. He had planned on teaching her a lesson. That was all. Building the dam was good politics, and inviting a flashy international fashion model to come home for the dedication was good public relations. Victor had meant to have a quick one with Daphne just to put the icing on the cake. To prove that he could use her without feeling anything. Just as she had once used him.

  Then why did he feel such joy at holding her in his arms again?

  “You are beautiful everywhere.” Victor moaned and kissed her again. He plundered her mouth with his tongue, even as he had explored the intimate wetness below with his clever fingers. He explored the unseen softness everywhere, letting the rough textures of her tongue enfold his. For long moments they necked like teenagers, wrapped in each other’s heat. Now he began trailing hot kisses down her neck and towards her arching breasts. His fingers fumbled with her buttons, and he felt like a boy again. A foolish, trusting boy, unaware of how he might be punished.

  “Oh, Victor!” Daphne’s nipples were taut and rosy. She gasped with shock as his hot lips wrapped around one of them. The sound gave him a thrill of pleasure. Now she was not acting!

  Daphne Hart was not a typical fashion model. She had long legs and a beautiful body, but she was too ripe and rounded, too full-figured and womanly. It was the same with her face. Her features were soft and innocently sensual, not haughty. Her blue eyes were round and open, guileless, quick to flare with anger but also quick to sparkle with amusement or glow with tenderness. That was the real problem. Daphne had feelings, and she showed them in ways that Victor had not expected.

  All morning long, she had asked questions, and shown human concern for the people around her. When they visited the hospital, she kissed the elderly, and held a newborn baby in her arms. When they visited the school, she read an English nursery rhyme to the children and even joked with them in Spanish. It was only when they reached the dam that she had seemed hurt and unhappy, cold and distant. Though even then her professionalism and courage had allowed her to carry on.

  Perhaps Daphne Hart was just putting on an act? She was denying him his revenge by making everyone else fall in love with her! Victor had waited years for the moment when he would shame her, batter aside her defenses, enter her savagely and bring her to a shrieking climax against her will. And now it was all coming true, yet it was not at all as he expected. For as he shifted her up against the wall, and as he filled her with a savage thrust, his need for her grew even larger than he anticipated.

  “Oh, Victor! Yes, that. Oh, please, that!” Daphne wrapped her long fantastic legs around him. Her yearning need drove him to distraction.

  “Damn you, Daphne, how I want you!” He was hard, throbbing for her. He angled her body upwards, against the wall, and pounded himself into her hot wet sheath, taking her again and again and again. As the end approached for both of them, Daphne screamed his name as though he were torturing her. Yet the way she clutched his broad shoulders made it clear how deeply she wanted this. Daphne wanted him inside her, plunging deeper and deeper. His throbbing hardness seemed to soothe the ache of need inside of her, even as he sought to bury himself in her tight heat. The rhythm of her soft bottom smacking into the wall in time with his strokes made him feel weak. And in his weakness there came a shattering moment of honesty. He came with a hoarse shout, and gave in to a burst of male triumph that was far too pleasurable.

  With the pleasure came a painful truth.

  Part of him still cared for Daphne.

  Part of him had never wanted to punish her at all.

  “Come on,” he grunted, snapping her out of the afterglow with calculated roughness. “It’s time for my presentation upstairs.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  Twenty minutes later, Daphne sat in the warm conference room with a steaming cup of tea, trying to make sense of what had just happened to her.

  Sex had just happened to her. But it was mind-blowing, earth-shattering, once-in-a-lifetime sex, the kind that left a woman reeling afterwards. Daphne felt like she’d just been through an earthquake. She didn’t reckon that real earthquake victims ever screamed with joy while the world was falling to pieces all around them. But perhaps they did sit around in shock afterwards. Daphne was dazed, lost in a fog, but she kept having the most marvelous little after-flashes of glowing pleasure. And then there was the warm, relaxed and almost sleepy feeling of total satisfaction.

  She wanted a cigarette. And she didn’t even smoke!

  And meanwhile, up there in front of everyone, without a single dark hair out of place, Governor Victor Sebastian was giving his presentation, looking crisp and cool and completely in control. Of course, he was still dark and Latin and mouthwateringly gorgeous as well!

  After a sip or two of tea, Daphne’s head started to clear. Victor was explaining that he was very proud that he’d gotten his project completed by Christmas. His design team combined local experts and talent from overseas, but he wanted his foreign engineers to have plenty of time to fly home for the holidays.

  Daphne told herself that she was in the same boat – she was an English girl, after all, and she wanted to be back in London for Christmas. Surely that explained the way she was feeling now, the ache deep down in her heart. She was homesick, that was all. Victor certainly wasn’t feeling any heartache. Although she couldn’t quite follow the technical side of the presentation – the crisply alert young governor was talking in numbers about outflow and megawatts and renewable energy – the fog lifted enough for her to see that the sexy young governor was not exactly reeling from what they’d done together. He was wide awake and taking care of business.

  Daphne blinked her long-lashed blue eyes five or six times, trying to focus her rather blurry vision. She wanted to see some sign of what Victor was actually feeling deep down inside. If only there had been more time for them to talk! Down in the machine room everything had happened so fast. Victor said it was about power – the power the country needed?

  Or the power he needed to demonstrate over her?

  Her sleepy-eyed gaze came to rest on the knot of his black silk necktie. It was perfectly tied. Somehow that little detail gave her a sinking feeling. Daphne felt that Victor had proved his point – he had gotten her to give up everything, without putting up even a shred of resistance, while he remained firm and aloof. The past was gone. Everything had changed. The gentle stable-hand was now the master, and the wealthy rancher’s daughter was now the slave. Victor had proved his point and now he was ready to move on.

  Still, she wasn’t about to sweeten his triumph further, and come over all girlish and cry buckets of tears. She wasn’t some wounded innocent. Daphne Hart was a working model who had just done some lucrative publicity work. She had gotten a free trip back to San Reynaldo, her childhood home, and she had managed to have a little fun on the side, too. That’s all it was – just a little fun on the side. Maybe she did feel a little bit of a letdown now. Maybe she felt tossed aside, like a tissue after a good sneeze. But wasn’t it natural to feel a little blue around the holidays? That’s all it was, really. Daphne was homesick for London and felt low and blue over that, and the upcoming holidays added to the feeling. She needed to get hold of her emotions, and cultivate a more sophisticated outlook. Why should she feel like crying? She’d just had a good shag with the most eligible bachelor in South America. Plenty of other girls would have killed to get it on with Victor.

  Plenty!


  Just to prove her own point, Daphne wrenched her misty-eyed gaze away from Victor and gave his posh female assistant a quick once-over. Antonia was not seated at the conference table like Daphne. Nor was she up at the front of the room sharing the spotlight with Victor. The dark-eyed brunette in the sensible suit had been on her feet the entire time, passing out press releases and seeing to it that all of the foreign journalists had everything they needed. Now she was standing over by the side door, studying the room from behind her big round wire-rimmed glasses, her sharp features and haughty expression making Daphne think of a circling hawk surveying a field of rabbits.

  Tilting her chin, Daphne met the other woman’s gaze. Antonia gave her a half-smile and lightly touched the crisp white collar of her jet-black Chanel suit. She was pointing to the top button.

  “Huh?” Daphne’s dopey expression must have shown she wasn’t getting it. Antonia touched her collar again, and this time she tilted her perfectly-coiffed dark head towards the door.

  “Oh.” Daphne finally got it when she touched the top button on her own blue and silver dress. Color flooded her cheeks. The posh conference room suddenly seemed stifling hot instead of warm.

  “I was trying to tell you that your blouse is buttoned up the wrong way,” Antonia said, after Daphne joined her outside. The two women were standing on the railed metal landing of the outdoor fire stairs, with a less-than-breathtaking view of electric generator coils and asphalt walkways and the blank rear wall of the massive dam. But at least no one else was around.

  “I got the message, thanks.” Daphne wasted no time in finding the right buttonholes and redoing the top two buttons. She wondered how many other people had noticed her disheveled state.

  “Would you like a peppermint?” Antonia was smiling as she held out the little tin. It seemed like a friendly smile. That was something. At least Antonia wasn’t acting all sarcastic and superior.

  “Thanks. The photo shoot seemed to go over well, don’t you think?” Daphne felt a bit more at ease with Antonia, especially after accepting the tiny striped candy and popping it in her mouth. The tiny red and white peppermints reminded her of Christmas, but Daphne refused to think about that. She wanted to show the smart, efficient career woman that she was a professional too.

  “Yes, everything went perfectly. You and Victor were splendid together!”

  “Well, it was lovely seeing him again after so many years.” Daphne gave a brittle laugh. “I’m glad the new dam is going to make so many people happy,” she went on, in a cool, pleasant tone. “Is it true the government is going to replace Christmas with a celebration of science and technology?”

  The governor’s assistant looked slightly annoyed. “Technology Day is a school celebration, a mandatory festival just before the Christmas Holiday. We haven’t outlawed Christmas, you know. We just want to encourage the younger generation to work for progress and believe in change.”

  “Yes, I see.” Daphne casually helped herself to another peppermint. “I suppose Victor really worked hard to sell your father on the idea of flooding this particular valley?”

  “Not at all,” Antonia replied. “You see, Victor is a very proud man. He didn’t want the people to think that Father was just rewarding him for his loyalty. When the dam was first proposed, Victor suggested several other locations, outside his own province. He was really quite forceful – and there are not many men who can get forceful with Father.” The cool brunette allowed herself a smile, and Daphne sensed the closeness between the president’s daughter and her powerful father. “At any rate, when Father brought in outside experts, Victor finally accepted that this valley truly was the best location for the new hydroelectric complex to be built. And once he accepted that it would be best, he immediately threw himself into every aspect of it – planning, design, and public relations too. It was Victor who insisted that foreign landowners be compensated, though that is not my father’s usual policy. He also insisted that you be invited to the dam opening.”

  “Just to rub my nose in it,” Daphne muttered.

  “Do you really think that was his only reason?” the other girl asked. “I’ve only known Victor for a few months, but he has never seemed petty or spiteful to me. Perhaps he realized how much it would hurt you to see the valley flooded. Inviting you to come home was undoubtedly shrewd public relations. Father and I would never have allowed it otherwise. But perhaps it was also Victor’s way of acknowledging your private hurt. And his as well.”

  “And his as well?” Daphne was stunned. She had spent a long time blaming herself for what had happened five years ago. But she had also spent a long time convincing herself that Victor had no feelings left for her anymore but anger. She had always believed that he could never forgive her. But perhaps the real problem was that she could never forgive her family – or herself.

  Perhaps Victor’s anger was not the problem.

  “My father owes much of his success to Victor Sebastian,” Antonia was saying. “Victor is right in one respect. President Santos would gladly break the rules to reward the man. But in the end, I don’t think Father understands what Victor really wants.”

  “Do you?” Daphne challenged.

  “Yes, I do.” The president’s strong-willed daughter looked at her with direct brown eyes. “You see, Victor saved me from great embarrassment when my fiancé ended our engagement six months ago. As governor, he appointed me directly to his staff. Everyone assumed that I had jilted my intended husband as a matter of cold ambition, but in reality it was he who jilted me, in a very painful and humiliating way.” Antonia pushed her round wire-rimmed glasses back into place.

  “Oh, no. Did you catch him with another girl?” Daphne felt a rush of sympathy for the coolly perfect brunette. She was a girl who always seemed so collected and in control. But perhaps that was only how she was on the surface. People might not see her pain, but it was there. Just like Victor, Daphne thought with a flash of realization.

  And then there came another shock.

  “He caught me with another girl,” Antonia said. Oddly, she was smiling. “You see, just like Victor, I know how it is to hide a forbidden love and to suffer in silence. Shall we go back inside?”

  “Yes, let’s. And thank you for the peppermints.” Daphne felt a genuine liking for Victor’s clever, loyal and courageous female assistant. But she also felt a bit like she’d been hit over the head by a big rock, or maybe by Big Ben. She needed time to think, time to make sense of her feelings.

  And she needed to be alone again with Victor. All alone, with total privacy and seclusion.

  Everything was going to be fine. She knew it would. The two of them just needed to talk.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Thundering over the last hill with shouts of laugher, the two riders drew their mounts up short by the blue waters of a crystal lake. It was hard to believe an artificial lake could be so lovely. But it was a scene of such pristine beauty that Daphne really felt as if she had galloped back to a simpler time. Until she caught sight of the large land rover parked at the end of the dirt road.

  “I asked my staff to get some lunch for us and have it waiting when we finished our ride,” Victor explained. His dark brown eyes flashed with passionate fire as he helped Daphne dismount.

  “Knowing Antonia, I’m sure it’s a catered meal from one of San Reynaldo’s finest restaurants!” Daphne was a little breathless as she slid to the ground, her body rubbing against Victor’s lean length in a way that immediately kindled her desire. Her joking was meant to dispel the overpowering sexual tension between them. Yet the handsome young governor’s expression turned serious as he looked into her flushed, laughing face.

  “Antonia may seem cold, but she goes all out for the people she cares about. You can count on her to get you back to the airport in plenty of time for your flight home.”

  “I know that.” Daphne removed her riding helmet, shaking out the flame-colored tresses that framed her round, sensual face. “But first I want to
talk.”

  “We will talk and eat.” Victor took the stunning redhead’s arm and led her over to the blanket spread on the lush pampas grass, where a picnic lunch with wine had been carefully prepared. Today Daphne was in riding clothes, a navy-blue jacket, snow-white breeches and glossy black leather boots. But not even the man-tailored outfit could disguise her innate femininity, her sensual allure. Victor knew that dazzling Daphne would soon be taking a posh jet back to Europe, to her exciting life as a fashion model. After the brutal way he had behaved, what else did he deserve? First, he had erased her childhood home from the face of the earth, and then...

  “Why did you invite me back to San Reynaldo?” Daphne got down to business the moment the meal was over. The land rover had left, and they were all alone.

  “The revolution was a good thing,” Victor stated. “This dam is a good thing. But the new government stole from your family to build it. It wasn’t smart. It wasn’t right either.”

  “I thought it was your idea,” Daphne accused. “I thought all these years you were scheming to take revenge on me, because I acted like such a fool when… you know, the night that…” Heated images flooded her memory, making her blush and fall silent.

  “If you felt that,” Victor asked, his voice low and rough, “why did you come back at all?”

  “Because I’m still a part of this country, damn it!” Daphne’s sapphire-blue eyes flashed defiance. “This valley is my home. A phony lake can’t change that. I still love the place where I grew up, even if you don’t want – I mean, even if the people don’t want to remember how it used to be.”

  “We destroyed your home, your memories.” Victor reached out, touching her soft cheek with his long brown fingers. “I too cherish what was lost, Daphne. I too have memories beneath the water. I brought you here to tell you… to make you understand… that it wasn’t done in malice.”