The contrast between the ordered neatness of his home life and the rich disarray of his working world struck her as strange, at first glance. For most people it was the other way around.
When she thought about it, though, she had to admit to enjoying keeping her semidetached townhouse back in Christchurch in a neat and tidy state so it was an oasis for her when she arrived home from work each day. Seeing Rey’s personality so similarly reflected hers, she appreciated more sharply how much she looked forward to coming home to a calm and organized atmosphere.
In this room, she could feel the energy of the work-place even despite its lavish opulence. This was a true representation of the Reynard del Castillo she’d come to know since her arrival here. Focused, determined, but still taking the time to appreciate the indulgences his life afforded.
She wandered over to the large corner window that overlooked the city lights. From here, she could just about see the harbor in the distance, but overall she had the impression of being able to look out over the whole world.
Heat suffused her back as she became aware of Rey standing close behind her. His reflection stared at her in the glass. With the sparkle of the city’s lights a halo around him and his features thrown into relief by the office lighting, she was struck anew by the sheer male beauty of him. His eyes burned under heavy dark brows, his chiseled cheekbones high and leaving his cheeks in shadows below them.
She found herself staring at his lips, at the full lower curve, the deeply indented cupid’s bow of his upper lip. She doubted even Michelangelo’s skill could have captured his near-perfect features. She wished she had the right to touch him, to trace the sharply defined edges, to reach up and kiss him, taste him again.
Rina closed her eyes briefly, unsure whether in doing so she was erasing his image from her memory, or imprinting it there in perpetuity. She started as a warm hand enveloped her shoulders, long fingers gently gripping her bare flesh. It would be the most natural thing in the world to just allow herself to lean back against the expanse of his broad chest. To let his heat infuse her body. To drop her head against his shoulders and to expose her neck to his touch.
Her eyes flew open as Rey lifted her tumbling hair to one side and with that one single movement, exposed the tender skin of her throat and neck. The image she watched now was strangely sensual as the dark-haired man, trapped in the glass, bent to press his lips to the exact point where her shoulder and neck met. She gasped at the contact, trying desperately to quell the throb of longing that pulled inexorably through her body at his touch.
Rey lifted his head, his eyes meeting hers in their reflection again.
“It’s quite a view, isn’t it?”
His voice was deep, the sound a rumble of air across the shell of her ear. The innuendo in his voice was as sinfully persuasive as the touch of his hands on her shoulders, hands which seemed to have a mind of their own as they skimmed down her arms and over her body, one reaching up to cup her breast through the vibrant blue fabric of her dress, the other skimming down, over her hip and lower.
Heat and moisture pooled in a flood at the apex of her thighs and she squeezed her legs together involuntarily, the sharp clench of muscles making the sensations running through her sharper, clearer, simply more.
Rey pressed his lips once more to her neck, his teeth grazing her skin ever so gently, before she felt the warm rasp of his tongue across her skin. She had no resistance left. She dropped her head back, exactly as she had imagined, and allowed him to bear her weight.
She felt him push up the hem of her dress, felt the warmth of his hand as he cupped her mound, his fingers skimming over that part of her that screamed for his touch, screamed for release.
Rina watched their reflection, watched as the man in the glass eased aside the damp fabric of the woman’s panties and allowed his fingers to stroke the moist crease exposed there. She could almost fool herself that this wasn’t happening to her. That it was someone else reflected there in the glass. That it was anyone but Rey who strummed her body to a crescendo that remained just out of reach.
And in that moment, the exact moment he touched her most intimately and her senses went wild, came the dousing reality that it should not be her. That she had no right to take the pleasure he offered her. She had no right to offer the same in return.
“Stop!” she cried, her voice a fractured facsimile of its usual self.
Rey’s hands stilled. “Querida, why stop? I can feel you, every part of you. You’re so close.” His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath a caress against her skin. “Let me give you this, let me take you over the edge. I will not allow any harm to come to you. Trust me.”
Every particle in her body shrieked at her to give him the right to continue, to bring her to a climax that she knew would render her senseless, useless to say no to him, to anything he wanted. But her mind knew with damning reality that she would never be able to face herself again, let alone her sister, if she allowed this to carry on.
“No, please. I can’t.” She shook her head frantically, tears burning at the back of her eyes.
It was pain and torture, yet pleasure of indescribable heights at the same time.
“Please,” she begged again, “don’t make me.”
The words acted as effectively as a drenching shower of freezing rain, and she felt his mental withdrawal as keenly as the physical. His hands, which had continued, slow and gentle on her body, now stilled before he dropped them to his side and stepped away from her.
Rina turned from the glass, unable to look at herself, unable to look at him and the questions that undoubtedly raged in his eyes, even as they remained unspoken on his lips.
“I’m so sorry,” she mumbled as she straightened her panties under the privacy of her dress. Her tender flesh still throbbed and ached. “I should never have let things get this far. It’s not you, seriously, it’s me. I…” she trailed off, suddenly at a loss for words.
How did you explain to the man who had very nearly brought you to orgasm, that you couldn’t let him touch you again, ever?
Reynard rested his hands against the back of one of the large leather couches and looked at her. She couldn’t hold his gaze, fearful of the recrimination—or, worse, the questions—she might see there.
“Can we go now, please?” she asked, her voice finally a little stronger.
He didn’t even speak, only nodded, and gestured to the door to his office. As she accompanied him down the hallway, Rina tried to pull her thoughts together. She could not allow anything like this to happen again. It had come too close to total capitulation on her part. And yet, deep inside, a part of her continued to crave him, crave his touch.
She groaned inwardly. The sooner Sara returned to this forsaken rock in the Mediterranean and resumed her life here, the better, because right now Rina couldn’t wait to resume hers, far away from here.
But, a little voice reminded her, you have nothing left at home anymore. All your hopes, all your dreams for the future—all gone. Sure, she still had her job, but hers was the kind of work she could do anywhere in the world, with her talents very much in demand.
It was past time, she realized, for her to make a new beginning. Step forward in her life, rather than going back to where she’d been before. But whatever she chose to do, her life was not here with this man. That life belonged to Sara, and she’d been mad to even begin to think she could play with the fire ignited within her by being around Rey.
If Sara returned tomorrow it wouldn’t be a day too soon.
Ten
Rey drove Sarina home in absolute silence. His body still clamored for her, the taste of her skin remained on his tongue. He’d wanted to see how far he could push her and he’d found out—found out he was just as susceptible to her wiles as she was to his. The knowledge was galling, and yet intoxicatingly exhilarating at the same time. He was man enough to know that, with only an ounce more persuasion, she would have capitulated to him—yet gentleman enough not to force h
er. The power lay firmly in his hands.
The fact that it had left his body raging with fire and need was a discomfort he would learn to either live with or overcome completely.
He had no doubt she’d been as enraptured as he. What was it, he wondered, that had broken through the veil of sensual pleasure and brought her back to damning reality? He’d wanted to take her all the way—to ensnare her, for want of a better phrase. Beneath the exterior that was identical to her twin’s lay a rich and sensuous nature. If he could tap into that, he would ensure she fell completely under his spell.
Keeping her in his life, in his bed, would make things safer for everyone—and, no doubt, prove intensely pleasurable along the way.
Rey snuck a glance at Sarina, sitting next to him in the close confines of the car. Her face was pensive, a tension around her eyes that hadn’t been there earlier this evening. Her hands lay clasped together in her lap and even in the dark interior, he could tell they were tightly clenched. Her posture, also, was taut—as if every muscle in her body was poised and ready for flight—and suggested that she hovered on the surface of her car seat rather than sank within it. Would she run from him? he wondered. Would she decide to cease this pretense and cut her losses? While he wouldn’t deny that it would be a relief to have this stupid blackmail business no longer hanging over his head, he perversely still wanted to see just how far Sarina was prepared to take this.
He knew she was shaken by the strength of her reaction to him. Truth be told, he was equally shaken. Overriding that, however, was a frustration that went beyond the physical. He couldn’t afford for her to run away. Not now, not when Abuelo was growing stronger again and would be permitted to return home soon—and especially not while Benedict was still in hospital, his accident all the while feeding Abuelo’s obsession with the curse.
It occurred to him that he should never have organized a vehicle for her. It would allow her all too much freedom when he needed to know where she was at any given time. Perhaps, with gentle persuasion, he could convince her to stay with him at his apartment. In her own room, if she continued to insist on such. Yes, she required careful handling, that much was clear. Keeping up the travesty of an engagement was surely taking its toll on her—even this evening, she’d almost slipped and exposed her true occupation.
It would be interesting to work with her, he realized. To watch how she would reveal herself and her experience when exposed to the del Castillo publicity machine. The concept of a new challenge with Sarina sent a thrill of anticipation through his veins. He would keep her close at hand, set her up in his office, in the room where she’d almost capitulated under his touch.
The constant reminder would hopefully be a sensual burr in her side—the images of the two of them in the glass a tangible, visceral thing every time she glanced out the windows. An inner satisfaction spread throughout him. Yes, he still held the ultimate control over this situation, and would continue to do so for as long as she and her reprehensible sister believed they had him hoodwinked.
He reached out and laid a hand on her fisted knot of fingers. She jumped beneath his touch, and despite the faint clawing edge of frustration that still clung deep inside, a small burst of humor settled upon him that she could react so.
“I won’t bite, you know,” he said softly, injecting as much comfort into his words as he was able. “What happened tonight was my fault. All of it. I overstepped the parameters we set when we agreed to get engaged so early in our relationship. It would be unfair of me to expect more from you than you can give right now.”
“Thank you,” she replied softly, her face still resolutely turned away to stare out the side window.
But his words had the required effect. He could feel her begin to relax, sense the rigidly bound muscles in her body begin to ease. As they pulled up outside the cottage and he walked her to the door, he permitted himself the barest brush of his lips upon her cheek.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, about eight-thirty?”
“Sure, whatever time you need me.”
“Eight-thirty will be early enough.” He stepped off the stairs and onto the narrow path, giving her the advantage of being taller than him for a change. “Are you sure you’ll be able to navigate your way back tomorrow morning? The roads will be chaotic.”
She nodded. “I’m sure I’ll be fine, but if I get lost I’ll call you.”
“Make sure you do. I don’t want to lose you, querida.”
He couldn’t bring himself to call her Sara, not now he knew the truth about who she was.
“You won’t,” she replied, her earlier strain audible in her voice once more. “Good night.”
He lifted one finger to stroke her cheek before answering, “Sweet dreams.”
He waited on the path until he heard the ancient door lock tumble closed, then returned to his car. Once safely buckled in, he opened up the engine and roared back toward the city. As the car ate up each kilometer back to Puerto Seguro, he acknowledged that the thrill of racing down the road was a poor substitute for the physical satisfaction his body still craved, and lowered his speed accordingly. But no matter how he controlled the power under the hood of the car, controlling his feelings for the woman he’d left behind was another matter. Lust, he told himself. It’s only lust. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, allow it to be anything more.
Rina walked out of the elevator and toward the doors to Rey’s offices fighting the urge to turn tail and run all the way home. Last night had been one stupid decision after another and the lack of sleep she’d endured as she’d painstakingly pulled apart each minute of their time together had left her headachy and irritable today. Certainly not the best frame of mind to be beginning a new employment position, however temporary it would prove to be.
As she entered the main office, the receptionist looked up from her desk and fixed her with a beaming smile. “Buenos dias, Miss Woodville. How are you this morning?”
“I—I’m well, thank you. Should I go straight to Mr. del Castillo’s office?”
“Yes, go through. Can I get you a coffee?”
“Tea, actually. If it’s not too much bother. Just weak and black would be great.”
“I’ll bring it shortly.”
Rina smiled her thanks and carried on down the corridor that led to Rey’s office. She hesitated in his waiting area before lifting her hand to his office door and rapping softly before entering.
He was standing by the window. Of all the places he could have been as she entered the room it had to be there. That exact spot. Fire flamed through her body as he turned and smiled in welcome. A slow smile that lifted one corner of his lips before the other, as if they shared something intimate and private between them and only them. And they did, she told herself. Just not what it could have been—and certainly not what her body, even now, demanded.
“From the look of you, I’d say you had about as much sleep as I did,” he commented before crossing the room and kissing her cheek.
“I had a lot on my mind last night,” she responded.
He gave her a look that said, “I bet you did,” as clearly as if he enunciated the words aloud.
“Have you heard how your PA is this morning?” Rina asked, mindful of why she was here in the first place.
“Resting as comfortably as possible, and struggling with the loss of her baby. It will be some time before she is well enough to return to work.”
“I’m so sorry to hear that. Losing a child must be devastating.”
“Yes, I told her husband she is not to rush her recovery on our account. He is equally upset, of course.”
Rey shrugged out of the jacket of the silver gray suit he wore and flung it across the back of the couch nearest him. The pale color of the suit agreed with his coloring, Rina decided, throwing the golden color of his skin into relief against the crisp white shirt he wore teamed with an even paler silver self-patterned tie. She dragged her gaze from him, from the faint hint of the expanse of his chest beneath the fine co
tton of his shirt, and sank down into the other couch. Her legs felt weak and unsteady. She had to get this attraction under control.
“So, your first day at work with us,” Rey continued. “I thought that rather than pin you down here in the office, we should head out to the vineyard this morning and let you get a feel for the whole setup, then we can lunch and tour the resort in the afternoon.”
Tours, great, that meant other people. Someone to act as a buffer against the shimmer of sensual tension that continued to hang between them. She could barely contain her relief.
“I’d love that. Thank you.”
A knock at the door heralded the arrival of Rey’s receptionist, armed with a tray bearing Rina’s tea and a steaming mug of coffee for Rey.
“Thank you, Vivienne,” Rey said as she placed the tray on the low table between the leather couches by the window.
“No problem, Mr. del Castillo, and I’ve rescheduled your appointments for today and let the vineyard manager know you’ll be there by ten-thirty. I’ve also booked your lunch at the resort for two o’clock. I hope that’s not too late?”
“No, that will be fine. By the time we’ve toured the vineyard and discussed matters there, that’ll work out. Thank you.”
“Is there anything else you need?”
“No, thank you, Vivienne.”
Vivienne closed the door behind her, leaving them cocooned in Rey’s office. Rina busied herself, reaching for her tea and taking a sip. The cup clattered as she set it back on the saucer, betraying her nerves.
Rey gave her a sharp look. “Still scared of me?” he asked, raising one dark brow.
“More scared of how I feel around you, to tell you the truth.”
“Well,” he said, an expression of surprise flashing across his features. “Thank you for your honesty, I think.”
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