'I'll be in touch,' he told her carelessly, and Verity saw the other girl's face signify her pleasure. Trusting little fool! Or was she just so keen to get a husband that she did not care what an exhibition she made of herself? That was probably it. Idly Verity wondered how much pressure was being put on Isabel to find a husband. She certainly did not look as if it was an effort for her to be very pleasant to the guest of honour tonight. But perhaps she was as eager to escape from the rather restricting Delgado household as her parents were for her to leave it as the wife of some successful man. Perhaps Ramón Vance fitted the bill for everyone. And they were welcome to him as far as she was concerned.
Verity studied him as they drove. Her father had nodded off in the back of the car and the sound of his snores punctuated the silence, making conversation unnecessary. She was glad of that, she thought, half awake, half asleep herself, although the man in the driving seat seemed as fresh as he had been on the earlier journey. The darkness was kind to him. It concealed the arrogance in his face, obscured the firmness of his chin and blurred the strong line of his nose. In the faint light he looked more human, more approachable. Approachable—that was a joke! She would rather cuddle up to a piranha fish. At least you knew where you were with them. She heard someone laugh aloud and realised that it was her. Goodness, she must have had more to drink than she thought!
His mind was running on the same lines. 'Something amusing you?' he asked lazily. 'Or is it just too much good red wine? I noticed that you were enjoying it, if that's the word.'
'I'm surprised you noticed anything,' she accused him. 'You were far too busy gazing into Isabel's eyes to spare any time for me.'
'Does that rankle? I thought it might.'
'I couldn't care less,' she said loftily, but spoiled the effect with a yawn. She did not feel like arguing; she wanted to go to sleep.
The fresh air hit her like a mule's kick when they reached Vista Hermosa, and she staggered as she walked towards the house.
'Are you still claiming that you're as sober as a judge?' That hateful voice sounded in her ear and a strong arm came round her, supporting her. 'Lean against me,' he commanded her.
'I'm fine.' She wanted to push him away, declare her independence, but somehow she could not find the strength and instead leaned thankfully against him as he steered her towards the house.
'Is she all right?' Verity heard her father's voice in the background as they entered the front door and she blinked as the lights were switched on.
'Just tired, and slightly the worse for Delgado's red wine.' The younger man's voice was briskly impersonal. 'Go to bed, Williams. You look all in your-self. I'll deal with her. She needs a hot drink or she'll have one heck of a head when she wakes up in the morning.'
'If you're sure?' Verity heard her father's mutter of assent, and then his called 'goodnight' as he disappeared down the corridor in the direction of his own room. A hot drink was probably a good idea, although she did not need Ramón Vance's help to get it. She allowed him to guide her in the direction of the kitchen, but protested as he dumped her neatly in a chair and left her to look for what he needed to make the drink.
'Coffee all right?' he asked, getting it out of the cupboard. 'It's what you need right now and I don't suppose it'll keep you awake. I doubt if a tank regiment rolling through your bedroom could do that tonight.'
'I'll get it myself. I'm not incapable, you know.' She got cautiously to her feet and was glad to find that the room had stopped swirling round her. She was not drunk. Just a little giddy, perhaps. She was not used to that much rich food and wine.
'You could have fooled me a moment ago.' Ramón ignored her outstretched hand and continued to spoon instant coffee into the mugs that he had found, then filled the kettle and set it to boil on the old-fashioned range. 'Or was that just a ploy?'
'To get your arms around me?' She did not pretend to misunderstand him. 'Hardly. I'm not that desperate.'
'And Isabel is? Is that what you mean?'
'Well, she certainly wasn't a blushing violet tonight, was she? She did all she could to keep your attention.'
'I was her guest,' he pointed out calmly. 'Did you expect her to ignore me? Anyway, why the inquisition? You sound like a nagging wife!'
'What would you know about marriage? You've never tried it.'
'Enough to keep well clear,' he said. He retrieved the kettle and poured the steaming water into the mugs, pushing one of them towards her. 'Here, have your coffee and stop making such a fuss.'
'I'm not making a fuss!' she hissed indignantly at him.
'It sounds like it to me. I thought you couldn't care less about my feelings for Isabel.'
'Her or any other girl. It's just that I find it disgusting to watch someone throwing herself at your head quite as obviously as she did tonight.'
'Liar,' he said without heat. 'I saw you looking at us and it wasn't disgust in your eyes. It was envy.'
'You're deluding yourself,' she told him contemptuously, even as she wondered if he might be right. Had she envied Isabel? Had she wanted him to pay her the same flattering degree of attention that he had shown to the other girl? Surely not.
'I don't think so. I know women. And you're all woman, Verity, even if you don't have any idea of your full potential as yet. You wanted me with you. If you're honest, you'll admit that you still do.'
Verity was not going to admit anything of the kind. She stared at the rapidly cooling coffee that sat untouched on the table at her side and tried to think of an adequate reply. He caught one off balance, did Ramón Vance, and she lacked his speed of recovery.
He took a step towards her and then another, and she stood there as if rooted to the spot. She should move, she told herself, but a stronger voice was telling her to stay exactly where she was, and she listened to it.
'Lost for words?' he mocked her. 'That's not like you, Verity.'
It wasn't. Her mouth felt suddenly dry. The silence between them was deafening and she could feel a pounding in her ears. His arms went round her and she made no attempt to push him away. Unresisting, she let him pull her towards him, moulding her to the hard strength of his body.
'Don't you want this?' he asked her softly as his lips traced a fiery path along the side of her neck, travelling upwards to brush her quivering mouth. 'Don't you want this?' One hand moved to caress her breast, arousing strange, feverish sensations that coursed through her, leaving her trembling and pliant to his touch. It was more than any woman could stand, this skilled lovemaking.
Her lips opened to say she didn't know what, and then she was lost. His mouth had covered hers with a hard demand, and response leapt in her. She pressed herself against him, glorying in the feel of him against her as he took her into realms that she had never known existed. All her senses were alive in a blaze of pleasure. Her hands reached up to unbutton his shirt and to spread themselves against the hair-roughened skin of his chest, and she made no protest as her own blouse opened to his seeking hands and she felt him stroke her breasts to throbbing life.
She wanted him—she admitted it now with every move of her body, every incoherent murmur of his name. 'Ramón, Ramón!' It was the first time that she had called him that, but the words left her lips quite naturally. He was no longer the man she hated, the man who had brought her so much disruption, the man who held their future in the balance. He was someone who had awakened her to a fever-pitch of undiscovered emotions, and she loved him for it.
But sanity came flooding back when she felt him pushing her towards the door. Where was he taking her? What was he doing? From somewhere she found the strength to resist him and push her hands against his chest in a gesture that stayed him.
'What's the matter?' He sounded impatient. Looking at the flame in his eyes, she had no doubt that he was as aroused as she. He wanted her—and he wanted her now. She struggled in earnest. Suddenly she wasn't sure any more.
'I want to go to bed,' she told him.
'Wasn't that where we were h
eading?' He tried to pull her with him.
'On my own,' she said in a whisper. She was scared of him now.
With an effort he released her. 'You certainly pick your moments, don't you?' He stood back, breathing quickly, as stirred as she was. 'There's a word for girls like you,' he said pleasantly. 'I wonder if you've ever heard it.'
'I'm sorry.'
'Are you?' he asked harshly. 'Or did you set it up on purpose, just to try and show me what weapons you could use when you chose?'
'I'm sorry,' Verity repeated helplessly. It was a situation that she had never met before.
'You'll be even sorrier one of these fine days!' He flung the words at her as if he loathed her. 'Now get out of my sight before I do you an injury!'
And, shaking like a leaf, she fled from him.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Verity did not want to face him next morning. After she had fled from him to the sanctuary of her room, she had undressed and washed mechanically before getting into bed. Then she had lain, tossing and turning for what seemed like hours until she had eventually fallen into a disturbed, restless sleep. She woke unrefreshed at first light, her head dull and heavy. It was an effort even to get out of bed. Was it an overdose of wine or of Ramón Vance that she was suffering from? She suspected the latter.
She wondered if she would have felt better if she had let matters take their natural course last night. Ramón had accused her of being a tease, a girl who led men on quite deliberately without any intention of offering them final fulfilment. But it had not been like that. Presumably he had experienced that mind-stretching feeling of ecstasy many times before. For her it had been a first, and she had wanted nothing more than for it to go on and lead her to the ultimate pleasure.
Yet she had called a halt. And half of her was glad that she had done so. Where was the joy in being just another name on Ramón Vance's list of conquests? That was the way to get hurt. He was the sort to take what he wanted and pass on carelessly. He did not want responsibility of the type that a wife and family brought. He was fancy free and intended to stay that way. And so did she, thought Verity with determination.
It was hard to meet his cool gaze over the breakfast table and act as if nothing had happened between them, but somehow she managed it, and knew that she had surprised him. She even managed a smile in response to her father's teasing about hardened drinkers, although it was an effort. Things would get better, she told herself. But the only real solution would be for Ramón Vance to remove himself completely from her sphere. And surely it couldn't be long now before his business at Vista Hermosa was concluded and matters were decided one way or another?
She studied him surreptitiously across the table. A cup of strong black coffee was all that she could manage this morning, but Ramón was eating steak topped with eggs with all his usual appetite. She wished it would choke him.
Mark Williams finished his meal and got to his feet. 'I'll see you outside,' he said to their visitor. 'I've a couple of things to do first.'
Would he refer to last night now that they were' alone, or was the subject dead between them? Silence stretched between them and Verity was reluctant to break it. Let him make the first move. Then, suddenly desperate to occupy herself, she put together a stack of plates and prepared to take them to the kitchen. So they weren't on speaking terms. So what?
'Running away? You're very good at that, aren't you, Verity?' Ramón spoke at last, his voice low, but with a definite sting in it. Last night's row was not over, merely postponed until a more opportune moment. And this was it.
'Knowing when to run is a girl's best defence,' retorted Verity.
'Yes, if she's scared.'
She faced him defiantly. 'I'm not scared of you, if that's what you're thinking.'
'No? Just of the consequences, if you dared to get involved with me,' he commented acidly.
'It wasn't a question of involvement, and you know it as well as I do. Last night you wanted cheap, casual sex, and when I wouldn't oblige, you got annoyed.'
'That's one way of putting it,' he said.
'Is there another?' she asked furiously.
'Yes. But you're not prepared to listen.'
'Try me,' she challenged him.
'I told you I'd make you want me. And I did. No, don't attempt to deny it.' He raised a hand as she gave a sound of protest. 'If what we shared was cheap and casual, it was that on both sides. I don't happen to think so, but that's just my view. Whatever it was, you were as eager for it as I was until you suddenly changed your mind and switched off. Now that was cheap and casual, if you like.'
'I've said I was sorry.' She flinched at the accusation in his voice. 'What more do you want?'
'Obviously more than you're prepared to give.' He gave a harsh laugh that grated on her ears. 'Next time you decide to blow hot and cold, pick a boy of limited experience, not a man who knows the score.'
'I'll pick someone with a few manners,' she retorted. 'Nobody's ever talked to me like this.'
'Then it's about time somebody did. Tell me, will this paragon of virtue ask permission before he lays a finger on you?'
'It's better that way than being taken for granted,' she flared at him.
'Is it? Tell me after you've sampled it. Most women want to be mastered, not mollycoddled.'
'Perhaps I'm the exception that proves the rule.'
'Perhaps you're just determined to be different.'
Ramón's face was dark with anger.
'You prefer conventional womanhood as represented by Isabel, I suppose?'
'She certainly has a nicer nature than you.'
'Wide-eyed, adoring and helpless. Is that what you like?'
'After your shrewishness she's a pleasant relief.'
'I'm glad you think so. You'll be keeping out of my way in future, then?' He had hurt her, but she was not going to show it.
'Yes, I expect I will. It'll be a pleasant rest for both of us.' He paused, as if about to say something else, then, thinking better of it, pushed back his chair with an irritable hand and strode out of the room.
What was it about the man that made her lose her temper? They were chalk and cheese, oil and water. Opposites attracted, she knew, but between them it was a violent attraction that brought more sparks than anything else. If there were any compensations to be had, Verity was not aware of them. Resolutely she pushed to the back of her mind the memory of that brief moment of fusion when it had seemed that their bodies, if not their minds, were capable of forgetting the differences between them.
Ramón kept to his word and absented himself as much as possible during the next few days. It was no secret that he was squiring Isabel Delgado about the countryside. There were any number of knowing glances and murmurs in the village after she had been seen in his company at the nearby casino at Alta Gracia and had attended a concert in Córdoba with him.
'You've missed your chance there, niňa,' Maria Lopez told Verity with all the familiarity of an old friend, when she called in for some stores. 'Seňorita Delgado is on the look-out for a husband.'
'She's welcome to try,' shrugged Verity.
'They're taking bets on how long before she nails him.' Maria's eyes were bright with curiosity. 'Have you heard anything?'
Verity laughed casually. 'Only that she may have a task on her hands, if it's a wedding ring that she wants. He's not the marrying type—he told me.'
'Did he indeed?' The older woman gave her a penetrating look and Verity wondered uncomfortably if she had been indiscreet. 'He confides in you, does he?'
'Hardly,' she said briefly. 'Are those cherries fresh?'
'Of course. They came in yesterday from Mendoza— lovely juicy fruit.' Lost in her selling pitch, Maria was easily diverted from other embarrassing topics, and Verity was relieved.
Her father attacked the same subject that evening.
'Vance not with us tonight?' he enquired, seeing the table laid for two places instead of the now customary three.
'He's out s
omewhere. He said he'd be back late.' Verity sounded casual. 'It's quite like old times, isn't it, Dad? Just the two of us on our own.'
'Yes. It makes a change. He's out with the fair Isabel, is he? She makes the most of her chances, does that girl.'
'Meaning I don't, I suppose?' she snapped. 'I didn't think that you were as keen for me to find a husband as the Delgados are for Isabel to get herself engaged.'
Mark Williams looked slightly taken aback by the violence of her tone. 'Steady on, love! There's no need to get upset about it. I just meant that she likes to have a good time.'
She really must try to keep a hold on her temper—it seemed to be running away with her these days. 'Sorry, Dad, I didn't think. I didn't mean to fly off the handle.
It's just that—' She broke off, wondering how best to explain matters to him.
'It's just that you're a bit touchy where Vance is concerned.' Her father finished the sentence for her. 'I had noticed. You don't like him very much, do you?'
'I loathe him,' she said shortly, glad that it was out in the open at last. She had not liked pretending in front of her father.
'That's a bit strong.'
She shrugged. 'I can't help it. It's just the way I feel. I think it's mutual.' She knew it was, but she was not going to tell her father that. It might lead to awkward questions.
'I'm sorry,' Mark Williams said simply. 'I like the man.'
'I know. That's why I—' Verity made an expressive gesture with her slim hands. 'There wasn't any point discussing it with you.'
'Not if you feel like that.' He sighed. 'It's a pity, though.'
'Don't tell me you were harbouring matchmaking schemes too!'
Her father laughed. 'Acquit me of that. You'll be leaving me soon enough. I've no desire to hasten the process.'
She reached across the table and put her hand over his in a loving grasp. 'Idiot! I'll be with you for a long while yet.' She sighed. 'If only we knew what the future held. Has Ramón Vance said anything to you yet?'
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