by Janet Dailey
‘It is growing late,’ he said tautly, a hand descending firmly on her shoulder and pointing her weakened limbs in the direction of the car. ‘I will take you back to your hotel.’
At that moment his hold over her was so complete that Erica would have jumped off the cliff had he asked. Blinded by the dizzying heights his kiss had taken her to, she found it temporarily impossible to regard him as a paid escort, a fortune-hunter, but his distant air when he helped her into the car forced her to do so.
The pangs of humiliation set in as Erica realised the embarrassing position she had placed herself in. She turned her face towards the window to hide the burning surge of heat in her face.
They were halfway down the mountain before Rafael broke the silence. ‘You should not kiss a man in that way, Erica.’
Pride surfaced in a rush of spirit. ‘Isn’t that the way your women usually kiss you?’ Keeping her head turned, she made certain she didn’t flinch under the obsidian glitter of his swift and thoughtful regard.
‘You are not experienced in the fires of passion that can flame between a man and a woman or you would not flirt with them so dangerously,’ he observed.
‘Kissing you doesn’t mean I want to go to bed with you,’ Erica retorted sharply.
‘Ah, but when you kiss a man that way, it is he who wants his possession to be complete.’
An awkward silence crackled in the air between them as his disturbing statement robbed Erica of any witty reply. Her own response to him was much too vividly recalled and Rafael was not a man to be challenged or bluffed by girlish lies to the contrary.
When he stopped the car in front of the hotel entrance, Erica wanted to dash through the double doors, but she schooled herself to remain in the passenger seat as he walked around the car to open her door. The sun was warm, yet Erica shivered when he politely took her elbow and guided her to the doors. His dark vitality was much too overpowering and his sensual virility made her feel all too vulnerable and young.
Rafael graciously inclined his head towards the doorman who held the gold-enscrolled glass doors. The naturalness of the arrogantly superior movement curled her fingers and she stepped a few yards inside the entrance.
‘There’s no need for you to accompany me any further,’ she told him curtly.
His arrogant demeanour didn’t change as he turned to her, his head back, his eyes narrowing into black diamond chips. ‘I hope you found most of the afternoon enjoyable, señorita.’
A brow lifted in anger at his sudden reversion to the impersonal term of address. Out of the corner of her eye, Erica saw her father and Lawrence Darby entering the lobby and the sharp questioning look she received when Vance Wakefield saw her with Rafael.
‘It was very informative. Thank you.’ Her nod was condescendingly dismissive.
His gaze centred for a brief moment on her mouth, mocking the coldness that came from the lips that had trembled beneath his.
‘Adios.’ Then Rafael was lithely striding away from her.
Erica hesitated for a second, drawing an audible breath to calm the wild beating of her heart. With a determinedly bright smile, she turned towards her father and Lawrence.
It was unlikely that Lawrence had forgotten that first afternoon when they had seen Rafael with the ageing blonde. The polar blue colour of her father’s eyes as they met hers told Erica that Lawrence had passed on the information. Refusing to be daunted by his displeasure, she lightly brushed a kiss across her father’s cheek.
‘If you two will give me a few minutes to change, I’ll join you for cocktails before dinner,’ making her request airy and gay so they wouldn’t guess anything was wrong.
‘What were you doing with that man?’ her father demanded with his usual facility of getting straight to the point.
‘Who? Rafael?’ Erica inquired with false innocence. ‘He took me on a tour of the city this afternoon.’
’do you mean you hired him?’ Vance Wakefield questioned sharply.
‘Yes,’ she fibbed, adding with an expressive shrug to give credence to her lie, ‘You and Lawrence were busy this afternoon and I didn’t feel like sitting around the hotel.’
Vance Wakefield was not an easy man to fool. As he inclined his leonine head towards her, his expression was doubting and laced with penetrating concern.
‘You do know what kind of man he is. He’s an adventurer, a fortune-hunter, living like a parasite off rich women.’ The undertone of his low voice was warning her in no uncertain terms.
‘I know what he is, Daddy,’ Erica replied calmly.
Lawrence glanced at her apologetically and she smiled in return. To his way of thinking he had only been doing what he thought was best. It would never have occurred to Lawrence to say nothing of their having seen Rafael on the beach.
‘That type of man is completely mercenary and without morals,’ her father continued. ‘I will not have a daughter of mine getting mixed up with the likes of him. Do you hear me, Erica?’
‘Yes, Daddy,’ she responded patiently.
‘I’ve put up with a lot of your shenanigans in the past, but this is one thing I won’t tolerate. Now go and change and we’ll meet you in the lounge.’
Four
* * *
Vance Wakefield never gave warnings lightly and he never saw the need to repeat them. If he ever found out that Erica was attracted by Rafael, however much she fought against it, she would hate to suffer the consequences.
When she had rejoined her father and Lawrence for cocktails, his earlier displeasure must have been placated by her explanation. As if to reward her supposed good sense, he agreed to attend the performance of a locally renowned singer appearing in a nearby lounge the following evening — a concession that surprised Erica since she had tried many times to persuade him to go without success.
In the next day, Erica credited her tolerance towards the demands of her father’s business to this concession. Her attitude had not been swayed by Rafael’s statement that she was selfish, of this she was certain.
The evening of the performance, Erica took special care in choosing what she would wear. Her father had agreed to this evening without any coercion from her and she wanted him to be proud of her. She fingered the cream silk material of her long gown and smiled. The silk moulded her curvaceous figure, highlighting the darkness of her hair and the violet hue of her eyes.
Picking up her matching evening bag studded with cultured pearls, Erica moved softly towards the connecting door of the suite, rapped once and walked in. Her father was restlessly pacing the room and Lawrence was at the round table, surrounded by papers, with a calculator in front of him.
‘You aren’t even dressed yet, Daddy?’ she scolded lightly.
He halted his pacing, pushed back the cuff of his long-sleeved shirt, then shook his head ruefully. ‘I didn’t realise it was that late,’ Vance Wakefield replied after glancing at his gold watch.
‘Well, it is,’ Erica smiled good-naturedly. ’do you want me to lay out your clothes while you shower?’
‘I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to make it tonight, honey,’ he said as he walked over to take her hands in his.
The absently placating gesture added to the chill that was already shivering over her. For a moment Erica could only stare at him in frozen silence.
‘What do you mean?’ she demanded hoarsely.
‘That Houston deal looks like it’s going to blow up in my face.’ His sigh accented the lines of strain in his face, but they evoked no sympathy from Erica. ‘We’re going to be lucky if we can salvage it.’
‘What has that got to do with tonight?’ She jerked her hands free. ‘Houston is more than a thousand miles away.’
‘I’m expecting some phone calls.’
‘So? Tell the hotel switchboard where they can locate us or have them take a message!’
‘With all the figures and information in the hotel room?’ he scoffed. ‘That wouldn’t even be sensible, Erica. We’ll simply have to cal
l off tonight, that’s all.’
‘That’s all!’ Her voice rose shrilly. ‘I don’t know why you bothered to come to Acapulco at all! You haven’t even stepped outside this hotel since we came. All you think about is business, business, business! What about me? I’m your daughter! Don’t I deserve some of your time?’
‘For God’s sake, will you listen to reason? This is a million-dollar deal. I didn’t just dream up this crisis to avoid taking you somewhere.’ His own quick temper was beginning to surface.
’didn’t you?’ Erica jeered.
‘If this silly performance is so important to you,’ he growled, ‘I imagine I can spare Lawrence to take you.’
‘Oh, no.’ She backed away, her hand rigidly raising in protest. ‘There isn’t any need for you to provide me with an escort. That has always been your solution, but not this time. I’m quite capable of entertaining myself. There isn’t any need for you to pay someone to do that. From now on that’s going to be my choice!’
’damn your insolence! You’ll be sorry for this,’ her father declared, trembling with rage.
‘I’m not the one who’ll be sorry, Daddy. You will be.’
And Erica stormed from the room, the telephone ringing just as she slammed the door. Her anger-driven steps didn’t slow up until they had carried her through the gardened pool area on to the beach. She paused briefly on the water-packed sand, then turned away from the ghost-ship Niña and walked up the beach.
A copper moon floated among the stars, a giant gold balloon in the heavens. Its light gilded the whispering ocean waves with silver, their iridescent sheen adding to the magic of the warm night. Only rarely did the breeze generate enough motion to stir the spiked leaves of the palm trees.
Gradually her steps slowed to a meandering pace. But frustration still burned inside with a vengeful fire. Her heart cried bitterly at the unfairness of the situation. Erica stared at the gentle waves rolling on to shore, bringing its treasures to lay on the golden sand.
A long shadow fell along her side. ‘I hope you aren’t thinking of taking a swim at this hour of the night.’
Tension thundered through her pulse as Erica slowly turned to face Rafael, bracing herself against the force of his compelling attraction. The tip of her tongue moistened her lips as a fantastic thought entered her mind. She shook the dark mane of her hair and willed her body to relax.
‘Actually I was only admiring the beauty of the evening,’ she lied, letting her mouth spread into an alluring smile.
‘It is a tropical night,’ Rafael observed, not taking his gaze from her moonlit face. ‘Warm and languid and tantalising.’
Her heart thumped violently against her ribs. She felt certain the wild thoughts running through her mind were visible in her face. What she was contemplating was risky, even supposing she could succeed. Abruptly she turned away from him, momentarily frightened by what she was going to do.
‘Is something wrong?’ Rafael immediately moved nearer as she perhaps subconsciously guessed he would.
A strange combination of excitement consumed her as her senses reacted to his vital maleness while her mind whirled with fantastic revenge. There was light contact of his hand against her shoulder and Erica leaned against it. The warmth of his skin through the tan jacket burned away the last chill of apprehension. Her neck curved sideways so she could gaze into his face.
‘Rafael,’ her voice vibrated huskily. ‘Will you marry me?’
The dark glow of concern was immediately withdrawn from his gaze and she sensed the freezing aloofness that crept into his shadowed face. Erica turned fully into his now indifferent touch, her eyes roundly innocent and apologetic.
‘Have I shocked you?’ she whispered.
‘The boldness of the women of your country always shocks me. In Mexico, it is the man who is the aggressor.’ The arrogant flare of his nostrils revealed his displeasure.
Her head was bent in a gesture of contrition. ‘Yes, I know,’ she sighed. ‘It was foolish of me to think you would take my proposal seriously.’
Silence throbbed loudly for several seconds before a lean finger touched her chin to raise it.
’do you truly wish to marry me even though you know — what type of man I am?’ Rafael demanded, thick dark lashes further veiling the unreadable expression in his eyes.
Erica blinked back the exultant gleam that leaped into her eyes. ‘That doesn’t matter to me at all,’ she assured him fervently. Her hand raised in a natural movement to let her fingertips caress his lean cheek. ‘I only want to marry you, now, tonight.’
A muscle in his jaw tightened beneath her intimate touch. ‘What about your family . . . and mine?’ There was a mocking flash of white teeth at her startled expression. ’didn’t you think I had a family?’
‘Of course.’ Her breathing was becoming uneven under his shadowed but intent regard. Erica searched his face in desperation, trying to discern the reason for his reticence. A frightening thought struck her. ‘Rafael, you aren’t planning to marry Helen, are you?’
‘Since she is already married, it is unlikely,’ he answered smoothly. A dark brow arched at her stunned look. ‘You didn’t know that. Perhaps you no longer wish to marry me?’
‘No. I mean — no, it doesn’t matter,’ she added hastily, her cheeks taking on a rosy hue. ‘I want to marry you.’
‘Tonight? With none of our families present? That is a very selfish request.’
‘Is it so wrong to be selfish?’ Erica whispered, edging closer to him and feeling the touch of his hands on her waist. ‘Is it so wrong to want this night for ourselves alone? To not want to share this moment with anyone?’
There was a peculiar ring of truth in her voice that even Erica didn’t understand. Yet it existed. A marvelling light sparkled in her eyes as her heartbeat shamelessly quickened when Rafael’s hands tightened about her waist.
Willingly, eagerly, she slid into the hard circle of his arms, burying her head in the hollow of his throat and inhaling the intoxicating scent of his maleness. The firm pressure of his thighs sent scorching fires racing through her blood, leaving her limbs weak and yielding. His low, seductive voice spoke softly in his native tongue, his warm breath stirring her hair.
‘Oh, Rafael,’ Erica moaned. ‘Please, I don’t want to be alone any more.’
Again his hand captured her chin, forcing her to look into the unfathomable blackness of his gaze. ‘Then you must marry me, Erica.’ Her name rolled caressively from his mouth. ‘It is I who ask you.’
‘Yes,’ she whispered her agreement, wondering at the strange catch in her voice.
There was an ominous sensation that things were not going the way she had planned. She seemed caught in the wake of his dark virility, swept along by forces she couldn’t control. Yet this was what she wanted, what she had planned. The risks had all been calculated in that moment when she had formulated the idea. The first obstacle, Rafael’s agreement, was behind her. Everything else would occur the way she intended it should. Or so Erica kept telling herself.
With a heart that was light and untroubled, she waited in the foyer of an old but well-furnished building that Rafael had brought her to while he made arrangements for their wedding. This blithe unconcern lasted through much of the ceremony, conducted entirely in Spanish, another reason that made her feel so detached from the proceedings. Rafael’s gentle promptings ensured that she made the proper responses to the solemn-faced official.
Then he removed the gold ring from his little finger and slipped it on to her ring finger. Its heaviness, still retaining the warmth of his hand, brought the gravity of her actions to the front. Her gaze tore itself away from the silver eagle with its double head on the face of the ring to look helplessly into his impenetrable eyes. Nervously she moistened her dry lips and swallowed the lump of fear in her throat.
The official’s voice had stopped its flow of rhythmic Spanish. Temporarily paralysed, Erica could only watch as Rafael bent towards her. Her heartbeat fluctuat
ed wildly when his mouth touched hers, breathing warm fires of life into the ice-encrusted regions of her heart. As he drew away, she clung to his arm, nodding in numbed shock at the smiling official and the woman witness at his side.
Distantly she heard Rafael accepting their congratulations while the realisation set in that she was married to him. For a moment she was terrified by the swiftness with which it had happened, before she consoled herself that a divorce could be just as quickly achieved. Still her legs trembled beneath her as Rafael led her to the car and her face was paper-white. The interior light switched on automatically when he opened the door. His observant gaze immediately noted her pallor, narrowing on it when he slid behind the wheel.
‘Are you not well?’ His eyes lingered on her trembling lips that still held the sweet taste of his.
Erica ran a quivering hand over her cheek to her hair, half in defence of his regard. ‘I feel a bit giddy,’ she admitted, cutting off the hysterical laugh that accompanied her words. ‘I just realised I haven’t eaten since breakfast.’
‘Then we must remedy that with a wedding dinner, no?’ The devastating effect of his smile made her empty stomach churn all the more violently.
‘Yes,’ Erica agreed readily. A full stomach would combat the weakness flowing through her body.
Later she watched as a waiter prepared their steaks on a cooking trolley beside their table. The restaurant had an authentic Mexican air and most of the well-dressed customers were nationals instead of the usual tourists that frequented the hotels. Beautifully scrolled wrought iron separated the dining area from the lounge, allowing the strumming notes of a flamenco guitarist to serenade both sections.
The entire mood of the place allowed Erica to relax and enjoy her meal without any twinge of anxiety. When the dishes were cleared, she picked up her wine glass to finish the last of the sangria. The signet ring on her finger clinked loudly against the crystal, reminding her sharply of her new status. Over the rim of her glass, she glanced at Rafael composedly leaning back against his chair, a thin cheroot between his fingers. Yet there was something very watchful about him. Erica replaced her glass and smiled as naturally as she could.