The Argentinian's Demand

by Cathy Williams

  ‘And you’re one of those people...?’

  ‘You’re a practical man. You can see where I’m coming from!’ There was a desperate, pleading tone to her voice that made her cringe inwardly.

  How had she got to this point? Girls should have dreams, shouldn’t they? She never had. Not as far as she could remember. Or maybe her dreams were so far in the past that she could scarcely remember the sensation of having them, of ever having dreamt of the walk up the aisle, the blushing bride dressed in white, bursting with happiness and anticipation.

  ‘I’m practical, Emily, but when it comes to the institution of marriage I still believe in it. I would no sooner dream of arranging a marriage for myself because it suited me for practical reasons than I would consider freefalling off the side of a building without a harness. Of course...’ He thought of his one failed gold-digger mistake. ‘I would be sensible when it came to choosing a woman... I would pay particular attention to the fact that people from similar backgrounds tend to forge lasting relationships. But within those parameters...well...a marriage without love and good sex as a foundation is a marriage without a point.’

  ‘Well, we can’t all be the same, can we?’ Emily muttered, breaking their intense eye connection to spin away and begin walking shakily towards the far end of the beach.

  The further they walked away from the hotel, the darker the beach and their surroundings became. The strip of sand narrowed towards the end, tailing off into an outcrop of dramatic rocks of different shapes and sizes—some towering upwards, others flat and squat—and between them the sea surged and fell back in a repeated motion, sending up flicks of spray as it did so.

  Emily turned away from the dark mass of menacing rock to find that Leandro was right there, a few paces behind her, just as menacing.

  With a sigh of pure frustration she headed towards the trees and sat down on a fallen trunk that lay on the beach like the body of a long, slender, inert snake.

  She drew her legs up and folded her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees and staring sightlessly out to the ocean as he sat heavily next to her.

  ‘I believe in marriage because I had the example of my parents,’ Leandro said slowly. ‘So, whilst I might fool around with women, like I say, they always know the score. And when the time comes for me to marry my head might play a part, but I intend to do it for all the right reasons. So tell me, Emily, how is it that you have no such illusions that it’s possible for two people to marry because they actually believe in love...?’

  Emily didn’t say anything. If anyone had told her two months ago...two weeks ago for that matter...that she would be sitting on a beach having a conversation with her boss that defied all rules of propriety, she would have laughed in disbelief.

  ‘It occurs to me that I don’t know a damn thing about your background...’ Leandro broke his own rule of allowing silence to propel a conversation. He raked his fingers through his hair.

  ‘Why would you?’ Emily finally volunteered. ‘Updating you on my background was never part of my job description.’

  ‘And you were always so damned efficient when it came to sticking strictly to the job description and never putting a foot out of line... So here’s what I’m thinking: you don’t believe in marriage and you don’t believe in the fairytale concept of falling in love because of something that happened to you in the past. Either a disastrous relationship with some guy or else your family background...something there... Tell me if I’m heading in the right direction with either of those theories...’

  ‘I don’t have to tell you anything,’ Emily protested weakly.

  ‘But there’s where you’re wrong. Because you’ve just been thrown a curve ball in your neatly arranged plans for your neatly arranged marriage to this mystery guy who does nothing for you but apparently fits the bill because he’s convenient.’

  Emily turned to stare at him. His eyes glittered in the darkness. She could sense the dangerous intent inside him even though his body language was relaxed and casual, his arms resting loosely on his knees.

  ‘What curve ball?’

  ‘Why, us, of course. You and me and the sizzling flare of attraction we feel for one another. And don’t bother trying to deny it, Emily. Maybe it was there lurking all along and it took this...’

  He looked around him and she knew that he was not only referring to the lush tropical setting but to the fact that they were so far removed from the comfort blanket of surroundings with which they had always been familiar and which had always imposed strict guidelines to their interaction.

  He returned his dark gaze to her mesmerised face. ‘...to bring it out into the open. But there you go. It’s out in the open. Maybe I would have forced it back into the box if I had believed for one second that you were truly in love with your fiancé, but you’re not, and that explains why you’re drawn to me just as I’m drawn to you... What you have might be convenient, but it’s no protection when it comes to the pull of raw, physical sexual chemistry, is it...?’

  Raw...physical...sexual...chemistry... Just those four words, verbalising what had been going on between them underneath the surface, sent a slow, rolling tidal wave of intense excitement coursing through her body. Suddenly breathing was difficult, and she was vibrantly aware of every part of her body, from her tingling nipples to the dampness between her legs, wetting her underwear, making her want to shift and squirm.

  ‘My father...’ She rushed desperately into speech, terrified that her body was going to let her down and vaguely aware that she had never felt anything like this for any man in her life before. Although she knew she could never, ever like Leandro, despite what he had said about his fair treatment of women, she still didn’t want to go there. Or rather she knew, just knew, that she shouldn’t.

  ‘Your father...?’ Leandro was so focused on what his own body was doing and the heat between them that it took him a few seconds to latch on to this surprising turn in the conversation.

  ‘When I was fourteen I found out that he had been unfaithful to my mother...’ Her voice hitched. This was a story she had never related to anyone before. She felt as if she was buying time, sharing this confidence, putting off the inevitable...

  She firmly clamped her brain shut on that alarming thought.

  ‘I’m sorry. That must have been tough on you. Fourteen is an impressionable age.’

  ‘Some of us were flying planes solo and others were...yes...dealing with other things...’ She smiled wryly.

  His gentle tone of voice had disarmed her, but then hadn’t he been full of surprises since they had got here? Hadn’t she reluctantly been forced to see him in a different light? No longer the authoritarian boss but a man who could be thoughtful in his dealings with the locals, shrewd with their concerns, ambitious on their behalf?

  The way he had left his guy in charge of the entire photo shoot, allowing the man to take on the responsibility, while he, Leandro, disappeared tactfully for the day... Even though it was, in the end, an important event that could have a significant impact on the hotel either way.

  ‘If it had been a normal case of infidelity things might have been different.’ Emily shrugged. She had thought to have boxed the past up and sealed it away, but now it felt as though it had been lying very close to the surface indeed, controlling her behaviour and taking charge of her actions without her even realising.

  Leandro listened, his head tilted to one side. He had never encouraged too many confidences in the women he dated. He had always seen that as a step through a door he did not wish to open—a door that would remain firmly shut until the right woman came along—a step towards giving them ideas that weren’t justified. But this one woman had hardly been an open book over the past two years, and the fact that she was opening up now did something to him—roused him in a way he couldn’t quite put a finger on.

  ‘I mean, load
s of kids grow up with warring parents, and so when a divorce happens they’re braced for it. My parents never fought. They were a model couple. My father was always attentive, so when it happened it was like a bolt of thunder on a clear summer day. It was just after Christmas—beginning of January. My mother had the crazy idea to do some spring cleaning. Dad was away and she thought she’d have a go at his office.’

  She banked down a stupid rush of tears at the memory.

  ‘I remember she was singing along to something on the radio and then there was silence...and silence... When I finally clocked that and popped in she was curled up on the floor, whimpering. There were photos all around her. Photos of a young Thai girl. With Dad and with a toddler. To cut a long story short, it turned out that the perfect husband and the perfect dad had been having an affair with this girl he’d met in a bar in Bangkok. For over five years. While my mum had been keeping the house in order and looking after me, patiently waiting for him to return from his so-called working trips abroad, he had been leading a double life. In an instant everything I’d relied on was blown apart.’

  Her lips thinned into a line of bitterness.

  ‘It all came out in the wash, of course. He confessed to everything. Not only had the woman had his child, but at the time all of this was exposed she was seven months pregnant with their second. In a heartbeat my father went from being a man I loved and respected to a stranger who was repellent and disgusting.’

  ‘That’s...awful...’ Indeed Leandro could barely get his head round the enormity of such betrayal and how it must have affected an impressionable teenager.

  Emily looked at him and relaxed, because what she saw on his face was genuine concern and sympathy and it felt as if those were two things she had never had before when it came to her past, because the story had never been told.

  ‘Is she still alive...?’

  ‘Yes.’ Emily glanced down, because that was where the story ended as far as Leandro was concerned.

  ‘And along the way you came to the conclusion that relationships with men were not to be relied upon...?’

  ‘We all have learning curves,’ she said with a shrug. ‘Mine just came a little earlier and a little harder than most.’

  ‘So you’re going to settle with a guy who makes you feel safe because if you don’t give anything to him then you can’t get hurt.’ When she didn’t say anything, he continued, changing tactic, ‘And can I ask where your father is now?’

  ‘Don’t know, don’t care.’ One hundred per cent true.

  ‘Marry this guy,’ Leandro said slowly, ‘and you build a prison for yourself.’

  ‘I don’t care what you think.’

  ‘You’ve forgotten what it is to trust because of past experience...and you’ve got it into your head that I’m just the sort of unreliable player who uses women merely because I have a healthy sex life...’

  Emily’s eyes dropped to his beautiful mouth and her thoughts became muddled and uncertain. She was only aware of the sexy curve of his lips, the beauty of his face, the leashed masculine power of his body.

  ‘Like I said, I might have fun with women but I don’t conform to being the kind of man who could ever do what your father did. The thought of it repulses me on every level. I think you’re making a mistake, marrying this guy of yours for the wrong reasons, but in the meantime, before you settle down to a life of predictable mediocrity, why don’t you take a little time out to live a little, to let your passion rule your head...?’

  Emily was vaguely thinking that he had barely skirted round the real reason she was marrying Oliver. If only he knew the steps she had been prepared to take—because, yes, if you didn’t give anything to a man, then how could you end up getting hurt?

  ‘I would never touch another man’s woman,’ he murmured, reaching to stroke her cheek, ‘but then again...’

  His mouth met hers and he was temporarily lost, drowning in the most amazing sensation of having his kiss returned, tentatively at first, then with more of that passion he had sensed lurking below the surface.

  He broke apart, breathing heavily. ‘You’re no man’s woman, are you...?’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘PLEASE...’ EMILY PULLED away but her stubborn feet would not let her flee. She remained where she was, staring up at him, trembling like a leaf in a gale, tightly hugging herself in an attempt to impose some order on her runaway thoughts.

  ‘Please...what...?’ Leandro enquired softly. ‘Please take me right here...? Right now...?’

  ‘No’ She took a couple of steps back, trying hard to free herself from the stranglehold of his presence.

  ‘But you want me to...’ He closed the small gap she had created. ‘And I understand why. You’re marrying someone you shouldn’t be marrying for reasons that shouldn’t exist... You might think you’re choosing the safe option but, like it or not, you’re attracted to me and you want to explore that. Don’t you?’

  ‘Of course I don’t!’ She spun away, headed down to the water’s edge and felt the sea curl around her feet then ebb away. She could feel him approaching her, darkly and dangerously persistent.

  She could sleep with him. Oliver wouldn’t mind. In fact he would probably applaud it. She could snatch this experience and see what it felt like to have sex with a man she was violently attracted to. It would be a first.

  She stiffened when she felt his hands firmly on her shoulders.

  Her thoughts were all over the place. Love was an illusion—something she could never believe in and would never fall for—but lust...

  She was only finding out now that that was as real as the ocean spreading out in front of her and as full of terrifying unknowns...

  The feel of his mouth against her neck sent a violent shudder through her, because she had not been expecting that. With a will of its own her body curved back against his and she heard the sound of her own soft sigh.

  ‘You want this,’ Leandro murmured.

  He marvelled that he could keep his voice steady, because his libido was running rampant, doing all sorts of crazy things to his breathing.

  ‘And so do I. But I don’t want guilty histrionics afterwards... This is just us...you and me...doing what our bodies are telling us to do before you prance up the aisle with Mr Convenient...’

  ‘I know what you must think of me...’ Emily muttered as she slowly turned to face him.

  There was so little space between their bodies that she could feel the heat emanating from him. She placed the palm of her hand on his chest and stared up at him. Every nerve, muscle, tendon was straining towards him in anticipation.

  ‘It doesn’t matter what I think of you...’

  ‘It does to me!’

  ‘Why?’ Leandro bent his head and kissed her slowly, tenderly, prising her mouth open with his tongue and then taking his time to taste her. He could feel her hesitancy just as he could feel her helpless craving for them to take what had flared up between them through to its logical conclusion.

  What did he think of her? Did it matter? Sure, she had worked for him for nearly two years, and during that time, when he thought about it, they had developed a curiously close bond, but she would be on her way in the blink of an eye and he wouldn’t see her again.

  All that mattered was the here and now, and satisfying this physical craving that seemed to have the power of a tsunami.

  So she had been affected by a dubious past, by the example of a father who had betrayed his family...?

  Was it his concern?

  ‘I’m not one of those women who sleep around...’

  ‘And I’m not one of those men who use women, despite what you think. So why don’t we just agree to keep our opinions of each other to ourselves and to just...enjoy...?’

  He hitched up her thin summery dress in one quick, smooth motion an
d the feel of his hands on her waist, underneath the shimmery fabric, nearly induced a fainting fit.

  ‘What do you think about taking a dip naked...?’

  ‘Are you mad?’ Her heart was beating so fast that she couldn’t catch her breath properly.

  ‘I shall have to work on that unadventurous streak in you, my dear secretary...’

  ‘Please don’t call me that. It reminds me of how crazy this is...it reminds me that you’re my boss and I didn’t come here to...to...’

  ‘Have wild, passionate sex with me...?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Emily muttered.

  The liquid pooling between her legs made her fidget and, as if knowing precisely what was going on with her body, he dipped his hand lower, leaving it poised tantalisingly over her lacy underwear, a delicious promise of what she might expect.

  ‘So you won’t be fulfilling my fantasies by dressing in your very best work outfit so that I can rip it all off you...?’

  The picture he painted was horribly evocative. She had a vivid mental image of herself back in London, in the office, with the door shut as he tore her clothes off before making love to her sprawled across his big desk.

  ‘Never mind.’

  Leandro slipped his finger underneath the top of her underwear and lazily stroked her. He delighted in the feel of the downy hair. In fact it was a massive turn-on—and not just because touching her was beginning to make him think that he had been fantasising about it for longer than he cared to admit to himself.

  No, that patch of hair was a sexy reminder that this was what a woman should feel like, as opposed to the fashionable baby-smoothness he was accustomed to.

  He wanted to burrow and nuzzle against her, breathe in and taste the honeyed wetness between her legs, but instinct told him that he couldn’t rush things. He didn’t want her running away.

  She might be marrying for the wrong reasons, might feel nothing but mild affection for her husband-to-be, but somewhere there must still be a conscience telling her that what she was doing was not exactly morally acceptable.