The Spaniard's Revenge

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The Spaniard's Revenge Page 8

by Susan Stephens


  ‘Oh, no, I—’

  But the woman was insistent and, while Sophie was hesitating, Xavier came to a halt and swung around.

  ‘Well, Dr Ford?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘Are you thinking of joining me any time today? Or do you take your medical duties as lightly as your personal responsibilities?’

  Sophie bit down on the angry words that sprang to her lips. The child’s mother was standing right next to her. It left her with little option when the older woman gave her an encouraging nudge in Xavier’s direction.

  As Xavier gunned the engine into life, Sophie steadied herself with her hand against the door. Without that mention of her medical duties she wouldn’t have agreed to accompany him, and when he made no attempt to explain where they were going she asked him outright.

  ‘Some of the areas we service are inaccessible by road,’ he revealed tersely. ‘There’s a pick-up point. You need to know about it.’

  So there was a drive, and then a journey on foot. Inevitably, they would spend quite a bit of time together—time she didn’t intend to pass with the subject of Henry hanging over her head like the sword of Damocles. ‘About Henry—’

  ‘Not now.’

  ‘It’s as good a time as any.’

  ‘I’m not prepared to discuss personal matters on my time,’ Xavier said pointedly.

  Bringing personal matters into the workplace had never been her way—but this was different; the lines were blurred.

  ‘I didn’t believe him at first—’

  The cruel edge in Xavier’s voice broke into Sophie’s introspection. She watched as he turned in his seat to drag out her jacket from the back.

  ‘So I went looking for proof.’

  ‘I don’t know what Henry could possibly have told you.’

  ‘Oh, really?’ Xavier stopped without warning at the side of the road. ‘Well, I think you’re a lying little—’

  ‘Stop it!’ Sophie exclaimed angrily, shocked by the sudden halt. ‘There’s no need to frighten me to death with bad driving—just explain what you mean. If you give me a chance, I’ll tell you about Henry—and then you can apologise.’

  ‘This time you’re the one who has to apologise,’ Xavier cut in. Holding her gaze, he undid the button on the top pocket of her jacket, pulling out the antique amethyst ring Henry Whitland had given to Sophie before she left England.

  She was her father’s daughter all right, he thought, as he watched Sophie’s reaction. She didn’t cry and wail and beg him to forgive her. She thought it all through while she worked out her next move. She was playing for a lot more than just an amethyst ring, after all, he mused cynically. The Martinez Bordiu fortune was well worth a wager. ‘Playing for bigger stakes than this now, aren’t you?’ he suggested derisively, brandishing the ring in front of her face.

  ‘That’s not worthy of you, Xavier—and neither is going through my things.’

  His pride took a direct hit. But he was still going to get that explanation. ‘Henry said he gave you this ring. I didn’t have far to look. Here—you’d better keep it safe; it must mean a lot to you.’

  ‘It’s a friendship ring, nothing more,’ Sophie said firmly. ‘And if you’ll let me, I’ll tell you about Henry.’

  ‘Save it,’ Xavier said tersely. ‘Your private life’s your own business. I’m only interested in how you perform as a doctor.’ And that was the only way to think of her, Xavier warned himself fiercely. Anything else had been madness from the start.

  ‘I’m going to tell you about Henry one way or the other,’ Sophie insisted calmly. ‘So why don’t you just drive, and I’ll tell you about him as we go? And then,’ she added with steel in her voice, ‘you can apologise.’

  She had nerve, Xavier reflected grimly. But he wouldn’t fall for her so-convincing act again. To think that he, who never let anyone in, had so nearly made an exception for Sophie Ford!

  ‘If I can’t talk to you, then I don’t think we can work together,’ Sophie continued evenly, ‘and you need me here at least until the new doctors arrive.’

  Xavier ground his jaws together. Not only did she have nerve, she had an unerring aim when it came to his Achilles’ heel. Unfortunately, she was right. Until more medical staff arrived from Europe the project was in danger of being seriously understaffed.

  ‘Henry and I have a very open relationship,’ Sophie began evenly.

  An open relationship? What was that supposed to mean? His senses wanted it to mean one thing while reason told him her use of the phrase was misleading. Either way, it suggested her supposed fear of men wasn’t as strong as she had led him to believe. And that meant the chase was back on. ‘I don’t want to hear,’ he said impatiently, starting the engine up.

  ‘Tough,’ Sophie said, forcing a level stare on Xavier’s fierce features, ‘because you’re going to hear what I have to say, whether you want to or not. The arrangement I have with Henry isn’t as strange as you think. It’s a fact I don’t know what is going to happen between us in the long term—’

  ‘And while you both make your minds up,’ Xavier said scathingly, ‘he allows you to travel to Peru and spend all your time with another man.’ He made a typically Latin sound of contempt—a sound that, in spite of everything, brought a wry smile to Sophie’s lips.

  ‘How can you smile?’ Xavier demanded incredulously. ‘Henry might permit this—’

  ‘Henry doesn’t permit anything,’ Sophie pointed out. ‘I chart my own course—’

  ‘On to the rocks?’ Xavier demanded, embroidering his metaphor with some choice Spanish curses.

  ‘I came to Peru to work as a doctor,’ Sophie pointed out, ‘in case you had forgotten. Why should Henry have any concerns? Forging a personal relationship with anyone here has never been on my agenda.’

  ‘Well, that’s great. I’m happy for you,’ Xavier said sardonically, drawing to an abrupt halt so that they both jolted forward in their seats.

  ‘Is this it?’ Sophie said, apprehensively glancing about, wondering if she should get out.

  ‘It’s as far as I go,’ Xavier said, resting his hands on the wheel as he turned to level a stare on her face.

  Sophie felt there was more to his comment than simply an indication that their journey by truck had come to an end.

  ‘Well?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘Are you going to get out? Or do you intend to sit there all day? And take something with you,’ he added, making a curt gesture with his chin towards the bulging rucksacks in the back. Grabbing one, he swung out of the cab and started off without her in the direction of a natural stone staircase that Sophie guessed time and erosion had carved into the towering cliff a short distance from where they were parked.

  ‘I’m still waiting for an apology,’ she reminded him when she caught him up. The pack was heavy and unwieldy on her back, but she had no intention of showing the slightest sign of weakness—in any direction.

  ‘An apology?’ It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her where she could stick her apology, but when she looked at him like that, with the light of battle burning so strong in her eyes, all Xavier remembered was that the chase was back on. Under the circumstances, he could afford to be magnanimous. ‘I’ll agree to a truce,’ he conceded. ‘For now.’

  ‘You’re so gracious.’

  ‘Aren’t I?’ he growled. ‘Give me your pack, and I’ll—’

  ‘Thank you, I can manage,’ Sophie said with determination.

  Xavier headed off without so much as a glance over his shoulder to see if she was following him or not. Picking up speed, she managed to move ahead of him on the shallower part of the climb. But the rock face was far steeper than she had anticipated. Each foothold had to be chosen with care, and the pack was holding her back. She was soon forced to pause with her hands resting on her knees and watch him go past.

  ‘Let me know if you need my help, won’t you?’ Xavier challenged sardonically before attacking the next challenge.

  ‘Oh, don’t worry, I will,’ Sophie assured
him as she caught her breath.

  ‘Are you OK?’ he said, peering down as he clung on to an overhanging ledge.

  ‘I’m fine—thank you for asking.’ And that rear view was spectacularly good, Sophie thought, admiring Xavier’s tight, muscular frame. She was in no hurry to overtake him now.

  ‘Are you going to join me? If it’s too much for you—’ He shrugged.

  Sophie gasped. Xavier was lying flat on the ledge above her head, hanging over it, and their faces were almost touching. She had only lost concentration for a moment or two, but long enough for him to know she’d been staring at him.

  ‘You’re so arrogant!’

  ‘And you love it,’ he said confidently. ‘Come,’ he commanded. ‘Take the pack off and let me lift it up here, then give me your hands.’

  ‘You can’t,’ Sophie protested, looking behind her. They had already climbed up quite a way. If she fell…

  ‘Don’t you trust me, Sophie?’

  Sending the rucksack up first, Sophie put her hands in Xavier’s. He changed the grip, taking hold of her wrists instead, and seconds later she was standing next to him on the moss-covered ledge.

  ‘First impressions?’ he said, searching her eyes.

  ‘First impressions?’ Sophie muttered faintly.

  ‘The view,’ he said, grabbing her shoulders to turn her around. ‘That’s the only reason I can think of for bringing you here. So? What do you think of it?’

  Sophie let herself relax just a little against him. The ledge overlooked the valley—no, the world, she thought, struggling to find the words to answer his question. The relics of one of the most dazzling of all South American civilisations was laid out before them, the intricate terracing a testament to the determination of its people to tame the land and thrive. ‘It’s spellbinding—timeless…’

  He pulled her closer into him, and she realised how close to the edge they were.

  ‘Not timeless for the Inca people,’ he murmured, keeping his arms closer around her as he spoke. ‘It took just a handful of conquistadores, with their armour, guns, horses and treachery, to destroy this highly developed civilisation in the span of a single generation.’

  Sophie moved restlessly beneath the persuasive caress of his warm breath on a very sensitive part of her neck. It was so seductive, but some part of her warned he was only toying with her—testing her resolve. And, that apart, she sensed an anger behind his words that forced her to challenge the reason behind it. ‘Surely you don’t hold yourself responsible for that too?’ She froze as his grip tightened around her shoulders, and when she turned she saw his eyes were flint-hard.

  ‘Meaning, what exactly?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just sensed—’

  ‘You sensed?’ Xavier prompted.

  He drew out the word as if it was both a blessing and a curse, which in many ways, to Sophie, it was. Facts she could handle. Coping with senses, emotions—that was much harder. But with Xavier it was different—she could sense things with him, Sophie realised, as if they were tuned to the same frequency and all she had to do was direct an unspoken question at him for it to be answered. She could feel the guilt lashing him when he mentioned the conquistadores, the same guilt he felt when Armando came into his mind. It made her want to reach out to him—physically, as well as emotionally. Their faces were almost touching. She was close enough to detect his warm, minty breath blending with the cool mountain air, and there were overtones of musky scent and warm, clean man…

  ‘Sophie?’ He made her concentrate on his face instead of staring dreamily into the middle distance. And when she managed to tear her gaze away, he got hold of her chin and brought her back again. ‘You sensed what?’ Xavier pressed. He felt her tense. She blew hot and cold—desire followed by panic. It was always the same. But why? Telling himself he was in danger of becoming too involved, Xavier hardened his heart to shut her out. If Sophie had a problem, his medical training was what he should draw on—not some false compassion that came from his impatience to bed her. ‘Why don’t you let me help you?’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘If you’ve got a problem, I’ll help you get to the bottom of it—I’m a doctor, remember?’

  Wrenching herself away from him so abruptly Xavier was forced to fling out an arm to stop her falling over the edge, Sophie exclaimed angrily, ‘Don’t give me that! You don’t understand everything just because you’re a doctor, Xavier!’ She whipped her head away when he dragged her close again. ‘You don’t…you just don’t, OK?’

  ‘Perhaps I understand more than you think.’ Frustration did strange things to people, Xavier mused. And if that was the only problem she had—once he was completely sure Henry was out of the picture he would sort it for her with the greatest of pleasure.

  ‘No, no, you don’t,’ Sophie insisted weakly.

  ‘I think I do,’ Xavier husked gently, holding her in front of him and dipping his head so that their eyes were on a level.

  ‘Could you help?’ Sophie murmured.

  ‘We can find the cure together,’ he said wryly.

  ‘How?’ she whispered.

  Xavier felt the soft brush of her breath on his lips. ‘Like this maybe,’ he suggested softly.

  As their lips touched the world swam out of focus for Sophie and, when his tongue teased the seam of her mouth, her mind followed. All she was aware of was an intensity of sensation that filled every inch of her with pleasure. Xavier was so sure of himself it left no room for doubt. She trusted him completely…could relax into the love-play and, even though he was hardly touching her, she felt cocooned in a safe and sensual embrace from which she never wanted to escape. Using only his lips, tongue and the lightest pressure of his hands, Xavier showed her how lovemaking could be, driving away the savage memories that lurked deep in her mind. He drew out the sensual pleasures to their fullest extent so that every one of his drugging, beguiling kisses spoke of the next phase being even more to her liking.

  ‘So, Sophie,’ he murmured at last, his lips so close Sophie felt hers tingle in response, ‘would you like me to undertake the treatment of this problem for you?’

  She searched his eyes for signs of derision or contempt, but all she could detect was a degree of humour and affection that warmed her to the core. ‘Only if it doesn’t hurt,’ she said wryly, risking a smile.

  ‘It may sting a little at first,’ Xavier admitted, raising his shoulders in a small shrug, ‘but—’ As his fingers meshed in her hair, cupping her head to gently bring her back for more kisses, Sophie sucked in a soft breath.

  ‘Relax, querida, I’m not going to hurt you.’

  As he nuzzled his face against her neck, Sophie gasped with pleasure and slipped her hands around his waist. He felt warm…wonderful. Her eyelids fluttered closed as she let her fingertips tell her all she needed to know, exploring further, moving upwards, growing bolder, until she was learning about every inch of his powerful, muscular back.

  ‘Still afraid?’ Xavier demanded, whispering into her ear.

  Yes. But only because a dam of feelings was about to burst, and she didn’t know if she would be able to control them. ‘No,’ Sophie whispered. And, as far as the debilitating panic was concerned, for the first time in her life she really meant it.

  ‘Good,’ Xavier murmured with a slow, curving smile. Their lips were almost touching again, but he pulled back a little to read her eyes…and then he allowed their lips to touch, but barely. And now, when Xavier deepened the kiss, Sophie moulded into him until she thought she would drown in sensation.

  He tasted of fresh berries, good wine, and fruit gums, and of everything she had ever enjoyed in her life…and, as his kisses became more heated, deeper and more demanding, instead of pulling away from him, she moved closer.

  ‘You’re not frightened of me any longer,’ he observed in a low voice, looking searchingly into her eyes as he caressed her face with one strong, tanned hand.

  Frightened of him? All Sophie knew at this moment was a longing for him to possess her
totally. It was so deep, so profound, she could think of nothing else. She needed more, so much more than a kiss.

  ‘I’m not frightened of you,’ she said honestly. He was the only teacher she needed—wanted. She knew now that only Xavier held the key to all the passion lying dormant inside her. But, instead of dragging her down with him on to the soft, mossy ground as she had expected and hoped, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

  ‘And Henry is out of your life?’ he said softly.

  Sophie swallowed as the heat rushed to her cheeks. Henry was the very last subject she wanted to discuss.

  ‘I could never entertain a relationship that wasn’t completely exclusive,’ Xavier murmured, dropping kisses on her neck.

  She didn’t doubt him for a minute.

  Cupping her chin in his hand so she couldn’t avoid his eyes, he said steadily, ‘You do know that I mean that, don’t you, Sophie?’

  Before she had the chance to answer, they both heard the shout.

  ‘Ah, here come our couriers,’ Xavier murmured with satisfaction.

  Sophie pulled away self-consciously. She had grown increasingly receptive until her nipples were hard and outthrust against the spread of his chest. Nothing like this had ever happened to her before—even her lips were swollen in a very visible sign that she was aroused. As two men appeared, cresting a rise to one side of them, she forced what had happened out of her mind. It was too raw, too revealing, to share with anyone, let alone strangers.

  The exchange of introductions and rucksacks was undertaken rapidly and, the moment the two Peruvian health workers had left, Xavier turned back to her.

  ‘I hope we may have something worth progressing when you have convinced me that Henry is not, and never will be, a part of your life,’ he said coolly, as if the interlude when normality briefly intervened had never occurred.

  Sophie searched his eyes angrily. They were cool and uncompromising. But how could he refer to what had just happened between them as something worth progressing?

  ‘Shall we go?’ he said, before she had the chance to marshal her thoughts.

 

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