The Spaniard's Revenge

by Susan Stephens

  But in spite of her bravado when she left the clinic, Sophie was taut with apprehension by the time the big cargo plane lumbered down the runway and drew to a halt. Xavier didn’t keep her in suspense for long. He appeared at a door high above the ground and jumped down before the pilot even had the chance to cut the engines.

  He seemed to be alone, but Sophie waited until she was sure. Apart from some more men and women she presumed were volunteers, there was no sign of television cameras and arc lights, or glamorous female presenters bearing microphones.

  As if drawn by some sixth sense, Xavier swung around to face her and their gazes clashed. He started striding across the dusty strip towards her, closing the distance between them in the space of a few tense seconds.

  ‘Xavier.’

  ‘Sophie.’

  ‘I’m surprised you could get away.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You’re alone,’ Sophie said, flashing a glance around just to be sure.

  ‘Of course I’m not alone.’ He jerked a thumb in the direction of the volunteers streaming across the runway towards the waiting vehicles. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me?’ His voice was fierce with emotion, his eyes narrowed like arrow slits against the slanting rays of the early evening sun.

  ‘I wanted to get back here as fast as possible,’ Sophie said defensively. ‘I thought Henry—’

  ‘Henry?’ He delivered the single word like a hammer-blow, looking shocked when she mentioned the other man’s name. ‘What does Henry have to do with this?’ Xavier demanded tersely.

  And then, before Sophie even had a chance to reply, he wheeled around and headed for the truck. Watching him climb into the passenger seat, Sophie realised she was so tense that her fingernails had carved painful crescents in both palms. But the job had to come before her personal feelings, she told herself, climbing into the cab beside him. ‘I’ll take you straight up to the clinic and fill you in as we drive.’

  ‘I’ve spoken to Henry already,’ Xavier replied, without granting her so much as a glance. ‘He told me everything I need to know. So, if you don’t mind, I’d just like to get up there as fast as possible.’

  She had never seen him so edgy, Sophie thought, taking out her frustration on the door.

  ‘When you’ve quite finished destroying my property, can we go?’ he demanded tensely. He had underestimated her, Xavier realised bitterly. And he wasn’t about to form a queue behind Henry.

  Tight-lipped, Sophie started the engine. Xavier might have been back in his casual working uniform, but his face showed nothing but hard-edged pride. The message he was sending her came over loud and clear: Women didn’t walk out on him ever—whatever the provocation. ‘Well, get used to it, mister.’

  ‘Get used to what exactly?’ he demanded coldly.

  Ignoring him, Sophie concentrated on her driving. She was relieved when at last they reached the clinic. She had every reason to leave Xavier, to scorn him, to hate him, but the tense, silent journey had served to prove nothing but the fact she wanted him as much as ever. She cared about him passionately, she still loved him—maybe she always would. But love wasn’t enough, Sophie reminded herself forcefully. There had to be loyalty and trust too; without that, there was nothing.

  Climbing out and scanning the yard, Xavier headed straight for Henry and she caught snatches of conversation. ‘You’re doing a great job…I couldn’t ask for more—’

  Joining them, Sophie envied Henry Xavier’s approval for about a second before she remembered Lima and all that had happened there.

  ‘Those extra tents you brought are just what we needed,’ Henry was telling Xavier. ‘You thought of everything.’

  Xavier looked at Sophie, ‘Let’s hope so,’ he agreed. ‘Sophie will take me up to the site now.’

  After Henry had given her directions Sophie found herself behind the steering wheel again. She kept her thoughts to herself and her gaze fixed exclusively on the road.

  When they reached the point where the treacherous river had burst its banks the natural disaster took precedence over any personal concerns, and Sophie slipped back easily into her working role. She was as relieved as Xavier to see that most of the debris had already been cleared. Scores of volunteers were still busy working and a couple of the organisers were able to confirm that anyone injured had been taken already either to the clinic or to the Armando Martinez Bordiu hospital.

  ‘It shouldn’t take long for everything to return to normal at this rate,’ she commented thankfully.

  ‘You’ll be surprised just how fast,’ Xavier said as they walked back to the truck together. ‘When you live with nature in the raw, seeking normality after something like this is all that counts. Timescales are condensed—people cooperate—and of course, Henry—’

  Sophie stiffened. ‘Don’t.’

  ‘Don’t what?’ Xavier exclaimed as he swung back into the truck.

  Taking one last look around, Sophie climbed back into the driving seat feeling stronger. The brush with nature at its most unforgiving had put everything in perspective for them. Maybe she should have kept her mouth shut, but she didn’t. ‘What were you trying to say about Henry?’

  ‘I wasn’t trying to say anything,’ Xavier pointed out coolly. ‘I was merely going to say how thankful I am that he’s dealt with everything so efficiently. It’s good to know I’ve got someone like Henry on the team. Someone I can trust.’

  ‘What are you saying, Xavier? Can’t you trust the rest of us?’

  ‘You were in a real hurry to get back here to join him.’ Xavier could feel adrenalin pumping through his veins as suspicion clogged his mind.

  ‘You were in no hurry to leave Lima, Xavier,’ Sophie countered, staring straight ahead. ‘Or were the charms of that woman too great for you to resist?’

  ‘What woman? If you want to stay here and work with Henry, just say so,’ he retorted angrily. ‘I’ll keep to my own schedule and return to Spain. Then Henry can have a clear field.’

  ‘There is no Henry!’ How many times? And he had a nerve, accusing her when he had taken another woman to bed almost before their sheets had cooled. As Sophie stared across in furious disbelief, the brief distraction was enough.

  The truck lurched violently to one side as first one wheel and then another lodged in a concealed hole in the ground. Yelping with alarm, Sophie braced herself to the sound of savage Spanish curses. There was a deafening crack, an earsplitting screech of metal on metal. Two of the wheels lost purchase on the road altogether, and then the truck settled on to its side at an acute angle, so that briefly Xavier fell across her, trapping her under his weight against the door. With one last eloquent barrage of curses he pulled away and, grabbing the door, now above his head, swung himself out of the cab.

  Crouching on the side of the truck he glared down at her.

  ‘Don’t even go there!’ Sophie warned furiously.

  ‘Don’t move,’ Xavier instructed harshly as she tried to climb out. ‘The truck could roll on top of you. Let me pull you up.’

  But Sophie was already feeding herself through the passenger side window, now just a few inches off the ground. ‘Don’t bother! I can manage,’ she insisted, heaving herself through. Crawling commando-style on her stomach through the mud she waited until she was a good distance away from both the truck and Xavier before getting to her feet.

  ‘You were lucky!’ he exclaimed angrily. She was unharmed. It was all he cared about. Xavier felt relief course through him as he viewed Sophie’s mud-spattered face and clothing. ‘Why didn’t you let me help you?’

  ‘Maybe because I could manage perfectly well by myself,’ Sophie retorted, finding she was more shaken up than she cared to admit.

  ‘Does anything hurt?’ He started walking towards her.

  ‘No, I’m not hurt.’ Not physically, that was. ‘Stay away from me, Xavier,’ Sophie warned, backing away. ‘I mean it. Don’t come near me.’ Making a few futile passes at the mud on her clothes, she gl
ared him a warning.

  ‘What is it with you?’ Xavier grated.

  ‘Me?’ Sophie flared back.

  Xavier made a furious sound to accompany his angry gesture. ‘Don’t I know it? You walk out on me without a word—’

  ‘I walk out on you?’ Sophie’s voice rose again in barely suppressed fury. ‘I can’t believe you just said that,’ she added in angry staccato bursts. ‘The way I remember it, you left me at the Inca Continental while you went out on the prowl—’

  ‘On the prowl?’ Xavier queried, imbuing each word with his particularly cutting brand of Spanish pride.

  ‘Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about,’ Sophie said accusingly, squaring her shoulders as she faced up to him.

  ‘I’m afraid I don’t,’ Xavier said, his voice taut like a bowstring. He came closer until every part of her was tingling with awareness.

  ‘You had to leave me for a meeting.’ Her eyes were icy. She refused to back down. ‘I thought you were somewhere in the hotel. It seems I was wrong.’

  ‘About a lot of things, Sophie,’ Xavier observed coldly.

  ‘Well, let’s start with you!’ Sophie insisted hotly. ‘I don’t have relationships with serial womanisers—’

  ‘I’m delighted to hear it—I don’t have relationships with women who sleep around. How could you think that plays any part in loving—?’

  ‘Loving!’ Sophie made a sound of contempt. ‘You accuse me of sleeping around and talk about loving! There’s been no one before you, and there’ll certainly be no one after you. I’ve had enough of men for—’ Something in his eyes made her stop. They were storm-dark with pride as he let her go.

  ‘I have never accused you of sleeping around,’ he said quietly, ‘but I couldn’t help but observe how keen you were to get back here to Henry—’

  ‘I was in quite a hurry to get back here to see what I could do to help,’ Sophie pointed out frankly.

  Xavier made an elegant gesture with his hands, inviting her to continue, but Sophie turned her head away. ‘I thought we had something,’ she admitted softly, ‘something really special. I was so stupid I even thought we meant something to each other—’ She heard a break in her voice and stopped. For a few moments she didn’t trust herself to speak. ‘And then I heard that woman laughing—’ Her throat felt bruised and dry as she fell silent.

  ‘Have you finished now?’ Xavier asked calmly.

  ‘With you?’ Sophie demanded tensely. ‘Yes, I have.’

  Why did that hurt? She was used to fighting her corner, not crumpling in defeat—was that why it hurt so much? She whipped her head away when he came a step closer.

  ‘Is it my turn to speak now?’

  ‘Please yourself,’ she said, refusing to look at him.

  ‘You heard a woman laughing somewhere in the background during our last phone call in Lima, right? Answer me, Sophie,’ he insisted, catching hold of her chin and turning her to face him. ‘That’s why you stormed out of the hotel and caught the first flight you could back here. Well?’ he demanded harshly. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

  ‘I know what I heard,’ Sophie said tensely, dodging the spear of his gaze, ‘so don’t even try to deny it, Xavier.’

  ‘I wasn’t about to.’

  When she looked at him now her eyes had turned as cold as the blue water they had swum through in the mountain lake. ‘Go on,’ Sophie pressed through lips that felt like card-board. She was filled with a need to have it over with and filled with dread, all in the same agonising moment.

  ‘There was a woman in the room with me, laughing,’ Xavier admitted. ‘And no wonder she was happy—’

  Suddenly Sophie knew she didn’t want to hear it. ‘Stop. Please stop,’ she said, cutting him off.

  ‘No,’ Xavier said quietly. ‘I won’t stop. You have to hear this, Sophie, because I was with my mother. She was laughing because she had just concluded a very useful meeting with the President that will enable her to open a second luxury lodge downriver from Rancho del Condor. She was even happier when I told her that I was in love with you.’

  ‘Your mother?’ Sophie whispered, trying to take everything in.

  ‘That’s right, Sophie,’ Xavier confirmed evenly, ‘my mother. So perhaps now you would like to tell me why you came back here alone without giving me the chance to explain?’

  ‘I saw the note—from her… I thought—’

  ‘I don’t think you did think,’ Xavier interrupted coldly. ‘If you had, you would have realised that I could coordinate the rescue mission far more successfully from Lima than I could from here.’

  He loved her. Xavier had told his mother that he loved her… Hot and cold torrents raced through her veins as Sophie confronted the damage she had done to their relationship. ‘I thought you were with the television presenter—and that’s why you stayed so long in Lima.’

  ‘I had work to do,’ Xavier said flatly. ‘As for being with anyone other than you—’

  His eyes darkened with passion, making her remember that they had scarcely been apart for a moment except for when something to do with his work briefly intervened.

  Sophie stared numbly at the damaged truck. She was good at breaking things.

  ‘I want no one but you,’ Xavier said fiercely, breaking into her thoughts, ‘though sometimes I have to ask myself why. Come here,’ he said, holding out his hand to her as he tried not to smile. ‘We’re going to need a ramp to get out of here.’

  He held up his hand when she started to speak. ‘Did you hear something?’

  ‘No,’ Sophie said, staying still for a moment, ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Yes,’ Xavier insisted, steering his gaze into the trees. ‘I can hear people talking… Stay here,’ he said when Sophie made a move to join him. ‘I don’t need any more excitement.’

  Perhaps he was right, perhaps there had been enough excitement for one day, Sophie conceded—for both of them. ‘I’ll wait. Don’t be long.’

  ‘I’ll be straight back.’

  While Xavier was gone Sophie distracted herself by collecting logs. But she looked up with relief when he came back. He was accompanied by a group of local villagers.

  ‘They’ll help us,’ he said, ‘but the light’s nearly gone and there’s not much more we can do until tomorrow. They’re heading back to their village, and we’ve been invited to spend the night with them.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘I said thank you. We don’t have much choice—unless you want to spend the night here in the truck?’

  ‘The village sounds really great,’ Sophie admitted with a grin, dropping the logs she had been carrying behind the back wheels.

  ‘Leave that now,’ Xavier told her. ‘We have to follow them—and they’re in a hurry. There’s a celebration in the village.’

  ‘A celebration?’

  ‘Full moon,’ he said, pointing skywards. ‘Fertility rites—a fiesta.’

  ‘Which is it?’ Sophie demanded, feeling her heart begin to race.

  ‘Both,’ Xavier drawled softly. ‘Now’s the time to change your mind if you don’t want to come with me, Sophie.’ He held out his hand and, grasping it, Sophie smiled up at him.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IT WAS like being transported back thousands of years, Sophie thought as they approached the clearing where the ceremony was taking place. The primal rhythms, the colour and the haunting music, together with the heavy pall of incense overlaying everything, was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was heady and sensuous…but while her attention had been captured by the colourful ritual she noticed Xavier’s attention was focused on her face—and he was trying not to laugh!

  ‘What?’ Then she remembered she was nine parts mud to one part clean, and began swiping at her face with the back of her hand. ‘OK, so I’m not dressed for a wedding.’

  ‘You look great to me,’ Xavier insisted roughly, removing some twigs from her hair.

  ‘I do?’

&n
bsp; ‘Pay attention,’ he murmured, dragging her in front of him so that she could see what was happening.

  But Sophie couldn’t pay attention. She was hardly aware of anything other than the fact that she was pressed up hard against his chest, and it felt warm and right, and she could remember how it felt beneath her hands as clearly as if she was running them over him.

  She grew alert again as a young man and woman as well as some elders of the village entered the clearing. They were all fabulously clothed and walked with the sinuous grace their centuries-old heritage had bestowed upon them. An air of erotic expectation hovered around the young couple, adding to Sophie’s heightened senses. It was as if the drama in front of her melded with Xavier’s charismatic presence at her back.

  An impressively tall man conducted the ceremony. His long black hair was crowned with a headdress of feathers. Carrying a staff of office in his hand, he wore a breastplate and leg armour harking back to some lost age, but made of stiff fabric rather than metal. His costume was richly decorated in blues, red and gold. The crimson and gold train that fell from his shoulders was borne by two younger men wearing floor length cloaks and feather headdresses. Behind them another carried a staff the height of two men, heavily ornamented with feathers—and heavy to carry too, Sophie deduced, judging by the grim expression on his face.

  ‘Perhaps he’s a thwarted suitor,’ Xavier murmured in her ear.

  As he dipped his head to whisper Sophie felt another loop of tremors bind itself around her dangerously sensitised body. ‘Reading my mind,’ she suggested softly.

  The young couple were swaying slightly now in rhythm with some muffled drumbeats and the slanted glances they exchanged were full of awareness. The young girl’s lightly dressed form was clearly visible beneath her ornate cloak as she moved, and her partner’s toned torso showed the same bronzed, oiled perfection beneath his wedding regalia.

  ‘What do you think of the clothes?’ Xavier murmured softly.

  ‘Lack of them, do you mean?’ Sophie whispered back, turning her head a little. Their faces were so close…they were so close. Sensation was spinning a net of desire around her that made her want to sink right into it and forget everything else. She wanted Xavier to lower her down on to the soft ground so that she could yield to the rhythm of the drums throbbing through her.