His comment confirmed what Sabrina had already guessed—that he had only asked her to marry him because he had wanted his child.
‘I’ll find a way to save Eversleigh that doesn’t entail having to have sex with you,’ she told him fiercely.
‘If I only wanted sex I could obtain it for a lot less than I am willing to pay you.’
She frowned. ‘What else do you think I can provide?’
‘Class,’ he said succinctly.
‘You’ve got a hang-up about class. A person’s position in society doesn’t matter.’
‘It shouldn’t matter, but it does.’ Cruz’s expression became cynical. ‘It doesn’t matter how much money I have in the bank, or how many yachts or penthouse apartments I can afford to buy. I will always be regarded as an outsider by the aristocracy because I wasn’t educated at one of the top public schools and I can’t trace my family tree back hundreds of years to show that my ancestors were linked to royalty like you can, Lady Bancroft.’
Sabrina gave him an impatient look. ‘Having a title means very little these days.’
‘It is an invaluable commodity in business, and especially to a business like Delgado Diamonds. My jewellery company is aimed at the top end of the market. My boutiques in Dubai, Paris and Rome have received acclaim, but the success of the company will be measured by sales at the flagship premises that I am about to open on Bond Street.’
‘What do your business plans have to do with me?’
‘Delgado Diamonds needs to attract a certain class of wealthy clientele, people who demand exceptional design and craftsmanship and will think nothing of spending thousands of pounds on an item of jewellery. The old-school aristocracy won’t be interested in a jewellery company owned by an ex-miner who grew up in a slum in South America,’ Cruz said bluntly. ‘But if I am seen to be in a relationship with an earl’s daughter who belongs to one of the oldest and most prestigious families in England, I’ll become acceptable in high society, particularly as I intend to move into Eversleigh Hall with you. It will be the perfect opportunity for me to search for the map of the diamond mine that belongs to me.’
Cruz’s lips curled into a sardonic smile as he studied Sabrina’s stunned expression. He lifted his hand and slowly ran his knuckles down her cheek and the white column of her throat and was exultant when he felt the frantic beat of her pulse. Despite her proud words he knew she would be his whenever he chose to take her. He was tempted to sweep her into his arms and carry her through to the bedroom so that their bodies could communicate on a fundamental level that did not require words.
The shadows in her grey eyes stopped him and he felt a faint tug of regret that they were on opposing sides of a battlefield. It was safer that way, he reminded himself. She was the only woman who had ever made him lose control, unmanned him with her sweetness and fire and mind-blowing passion, but he would not succumb to such craven weakness again.
‘As well as having been born into a high-ranking family you are a respected historian specialising in antique furniture restoration, and, according to my private investigator, you have undertaken commissions at the Wallace Collection and the Victoria and Albert Museum. You are also a well-known patron of the arts and no society dinner party is complete without your name on the guest list.’
Sabrina drew a sharp breath. ‘I can’t believe you instructed someone to pry into my private life.’
He shrugged. ‘The first rule of business is to thoroughly research the subject you are interested in, and, in this instance, I am interested in you.’
‘Because of my so-called pedigree,’ she snapped.
‘You belong to the rarefied world of the English upper class. I can get sex anywhere,’ Cruz stated coolly. ‘What I desire from you, Sabrina, is your heritage and breeding. You will be my very public mistress and your connections to the aristocracy will open doors that would otherwise be closed to me.’
Sabrina held her breath as he trailed his knuckles over the upper swell of her breast and she felt her nipples pucker in anticipation of his touch. She jerked away from him and this time he did not prevent her from opening the door. ‘Hell will freeze over first,’ she told him grimly.
His mocking voice followed her down the hallway. ‘I’ll give you three days to come to me, querida. If I haven’t heard from you by seven p.m. on Tuesday evening I will withdraw my offer and you will have lost your chance to save Eversleigh Hall from the developers.’
CHAPTER SIX
THERE WAS NOT a chance in hell that she would agree to Cruz’s outrageous ultimatum, Sabrina thought angrily, when she arrived back at Eversleigh Hall. But she had to face the stark truth that she could no longer afford to keep the house and estate, especially as it seemed increasingly possible that her father might not be found.
The fire and the huge costs of repairing the annexe had made a bad situation even worse. The best thing she could do would be to sell Eversleigh to the Excelsior hotel chain. But she hadn’t discussed it with Tristan yet, she argued with herself. She had hoped he could finish his exams before she broke the news that he might lose his home and heritage. In retrospect she knew she should have explained the situation to her brother months ago, but she had spent so many years caring for him after their parents’ divorce and she still felt an instinctive need to try to protect him.
Ten years ago Cruz had not understood how worried she had felt about leaving her brother in England. He had accused her of wanting to return to her comfortable life at Eversleigh Hall, but, in the end, the arguments about where their baby would be born had been immaterial. Seventeen weeks into her pregnancy she had started to bleed heavily. Cruz’s mother had driven her to the hospital because Cruz had been at work at the mine. By the time he had arrived at her bedside Sabrina had had to tell him that he was no longer going to be a father.
She had called her baby boy Luiz. A lump formed in her throat. Memories of the miscarriage had become less painful over time, but seeing Cruz again had brought it all back. She had been consumed by grief and guilt that the miscarriage was somehow her fault and had sought refuge at Eversleigh, resuming her role of parent to her brother as a way of helping her through the mourning process. For a long time she had hoped that Cruz would come to her and they would be able to grieve for their child together. But weeks and months had passed and she had not heard from him.
He had not wanted her once she was no longer carrying his child. He did not want her for herself now, Sabrina thought bitterly. He had made the insulting proposition that she could sell her body to him for the price of the red diamond. But even more insulting—and hurtful, damn it—was his admission that he had only chosen her to be his mistress rather than any of the blonde bimbos who flocked round him because of her breeding. He made her sound like a prize heifer!
As she passed the portraits hanging in the hall she paused by a painting of the daughter of a previous Earl Bancroft who had lived in the time of the notorious womaniser King Charles II. According to a family story retold through generations, Lady Henrietta had become a mistress of the king in return for him settling the huge debts her father had left when he died, thereby saving Eversleigh Hall from being sold and allowing Henrietta’s younger brother to inherit the earldom and the estate.
Heaven help her. Perhaps whoredom was in her genes! Sabrina thought wryly.
Her mind kept on replaying her confrontation with Cruz and she had no appetite for the chicken salad the housekeeper had prepared for her. The TV failed to hold her attention, and she switched it off and went into her studio where she carried out restoration work on Eversleigh Hall’s collection of antique furniture. But the detailed work of applying gold leaf to a Georgian cabinet that she had spent weeks restoring seemed a waste of time when there was a strong chance that the cabinet would have to be sold with the house.
In the library that her father had used as his study she began to search the drawers in the desk for the map Cruz had spoken of. It was unlikely that Earl Bancroft would have put someth
ing that he presumably valued highly in such an obvious place, but it had occurred to her that if she could find the map it was possible she could make a deal with Cruz.
Half an hour later, Sabrina had found nothing of interest apart from a couple more bills that she had been unaware of and that required paying immediately. Lying at the bottom of the last drawer she opened was a photograph of her parents on their wedding day. The cracked glass in the frame summed up her parents’ marriage, she mused. Neither her mother nor father looked happy, but the old earl, Sabrina’s grandfather, had insisted that his grandchild could not be born out of wedlock.
Her parents must have had a brief spell of marital harmony which had resulted in Tristan being born. But her father had soon grown bored of family life. Deserted by her husband for long periods, Lorna Bancroft had started an affair with a groom who worked at the Eversleigh estate.
As Sabrina replaced the photo in the drawer she mused that her parents’ shotgun marriage had not been a good advertisement for wedded bliss. It was why she’d turned down Cruz’s proposal, but she was surprised to learn he believed she’d refused because she’d thought he wasn’t good enough for her.
Was her rejection of him years ago the real reason for his humiliating proposition that she could sell herself to him for the price of the red diamond? Back then, Cruz had been far more bothered than she had by what he had perceived as the difference in their social status and he’d refused to move to England and live at Eversleigh Hall with her in case he was labelled a gold-digger. Now that their financial situations were reversed and she could be seen as a gold-digger if she accepted money from Cruz, Sabrina had a new insight into how he must have felt when he had been a poor miner in a relationship with an earl’s daughter.
* * *
She still had not called! Cruz checked his phone for new messages and felt a mixture of frustration and disbelief when Sabrina’s name did not appear in his in-box.
He put his phone back down on the boardroom table and forced himself to concentrate on the details of the launch party for his new Bond Street store that the event planner was explaining. Opening a Delgado Diamonds shop in the heart of London was the biggest gamble he had ever taken. As he’d explained to Sabrina, the success or failure of his whole jewellery company depended on whether the new store would attract the super-rich clientele who could afford to live and shop in exclusive Mayfair.
This was what he had been working towards for years, ever since he had created Delgado Diamonds. For months he had focused on little else, but for the past three days he had barely given a thought to his business expansion plans, his mind preoccupied with Sabrina. Not just his mind, Cruz acknowledged with savage self-contempt, recalling his erotic fantasies about her.
He had been certain she would accept his offer of financial help in return for becoming his mistress. She had reacted furiously when he had set out his terms, but he had given her a few days for her temper to cool and he’d been convinced that she would agree to his demands, which would allow her to safeguard Eversleigh Hall. He knew how much the stately home meant to her and he could not understand why she was delaying her inevitable capitulation.
He glanced at his watch. Five hours left until the deadline he had given her expired. Would she come to him? His gut twisted as he faced the possibility that she would thwart him. He drummed his fingertips on the polished table and acknowledged that he couldn’t take the risk that Sabrina might decide to sell Eversleigh Hall to a hotel chain and deny him the chance to search for the map of the diamond mine.
‘Would you like to accompany me to the party venue to make sure you are happy with the arrangements, Mr Delgado?’
Cruz forced himself to concentrate on the matter at hand and smiled at the young woman from Party Perfect who was organising the launch party.
‘I’m sure that you and your team have done an excellent job, Miss Simms.’ He stood up and slipped his phone into his jacket pocket. ‘Something urgent has come up and I’ll be busy for the rest of the afternoon, but I’ll be back in time for the party at eight this evening.’
* * *
It was the third day! Sabrina could not dismiss the thought and she was finding it hard to concentrate on the intricate restoration work on the Georgian cabinet. She now understood why Cruz had given her an ultimatum of seven o’clock this evening to decide if she would sell herself to him. Several of the daily newspapers had carried full-page advertisements announcing the opening of Delgado Diamonds’ flagship store in Bond Street, and Cruz had been a guest on a morning television programme, speaking about the lavish party he would be hosting that evening to celebrate the launch.
The flirtatious female interviewer had clearly been smitten by Cruz’s charisma, Sabrina remembered irritably. Many women would leap at the chance of an affair with a millionaire diamond tycoon, but she refused to sacrifice her self-respect by becoming his mistress, even to save Eversleigh Hall. But what of her brother’s hopes of training to be a pilot? her conscience questioned. Could she, should she agree to Cruz’s demands for Tristan’s sake?
The sound of her phone pulled her from her thoughts, and she answered a call from the horse dealer who explained that he had found a buyer for Monty. Her heart plummeted at the news, even though she desperately needed the money from the sale.
If she sold herself to Cruz, she would not need to sell her horse, whispered the voice in her head.
But although Cruz had offered to pay her over a million pounds, the sum would only cover the renovation work after the fire and leave her with enough money to maintain the estate until Earl Bancroft returned or was declared dead. Sabrina knew she would still have to live to a tight budget, which would not include the upkeep of a horse. It was a bitter irony that if she sold Eversleigh to the hotel chain she would be able to afford Monty, but she would not have anywhere to keep him and she would not have a home herself. While her future was so uncertain, it seemed kinder to sell Monty to a new owner who could give him a secure home.
Her mind was in turmoil and she gave up trying to work on the cabinet and went to get changed into her riding clothes. Monty greeted her with the snuffling noise he always made when he saw her, and when Sabrina led him out of his stable he nuzzled his nose against her shoulder. Hopefully it would not take him long to get used to his new owner, she thought bleakly. Monty whinnied with delight when she led him into the jumping ring. He loved to jump, and Sabrina was determined to enjoy her last precious ride on him.
‘Come on, boy,’ she whispered in his ear as they approached the first fence. She held her breath as she felt the power and strength of the horse beneath her, and then the two of them were flying through the air as Monty cleared the fence with inches to spare.
* * *
As Cruz climbed out of his car he noted that the bright red Ferrari looked gaudy and out of place parked on the driveway in front of Eversleigh Hall. A Rolls-Royce or a Bentley would suit the elegant grandeur of the stately home far better than a brash sports car. He grimaced as he once again recalled the comment he’d overheard Lord Porchester make about him being one of the nouveau riche. Porchester hadn’t minded borrowing money from him, Cruz thought sardonically. And if Sabrina had any sense she would accept his offer of financial assistance that would enable her to keep her family’s home.
He’d caught sight of her riding her horse as he drove along the lane leading to the Eversleigh estate, and instead of walking up to the front door he made his way around the side of the house, heading towards the stables.
She was a superb horsewoman, Cruz acknowledged as he leaned against the paddock fence and admired Sabrina’s skill and perfect timing as horse and rider sailed over a six-foot wall made out of polystyrene bricks.
‘That was impressive,’ he commented when she rode up to him and dismounted. She was wearing her riding gear again. When she bent over to pick up the horse’s reins, Cruz watched the stretchy material of her jodhpurs tighten across her pert derrière and felt his body tighten in respon
se.
Santa mãe! How could he want her so badly? What spell had she cast on him that had decimated his ability to think of anything but her and his consuming longing to feel her soft body beneath him?
She unfastened the strap beneath her chin and as she lifted off her riding helmet her blonde hair cascaded down her back like a river of silk. Cruz almost groaned out loud. When they had been together he had loved her hair, loved the way it felt against his skin when she had straddled him and leaned forwards so that the long golden strands brushed his chest.
His jaw clenched. Once he had loved her, and for a while he had even managed to kid himself that she was in love with him. What a fool he had been to think that a woman of Sabrina’s class and refinement would give up her life of privilege and luxury for a poorly paid, poorly educated miner.
‘Why are you here?’ Her cultured voice pulled Cruz from the past. ‘You told me I had until seven o’clock this evening to give you my answer.’
Sabrina led Monty back to the stables and was supremely conscious of Cruz walking beside her. She despised the way her heart had missed a beat when she’d noticed him watching her ride. In black trousers and shirt, his eyes hidden behind designer shades, he was devastatingly handsome and a dangerous threat to her peace of mind.
Katie, the teenage groom, was waiting in the yard and took Monty into his stall to unsaddle him.
‘Do you only keep one horse here?’ Cruz glanced at the five empty stables.
Sabrina nodded. ‘When I was a child all the stables were occupied. My mother had a couple of hunters and a horse for dressage, and my brother and I learned to ride on ponies.’ Her voice faltered. ‘Soon there will be no horses at Eversleigh. Monty is to be sold.’
‘Tears, gatinha?’ Cruz caught hold of her chin to prevent her from turning away and captured the sparkle of moisture clinging to her lashes with his thumb pad. He noted the dark shadows beneath her eyes that looked like bruises on her porcelain skin. Her lower lip quivered almost imperceptibly before she firmed it and her air of vulnerability made his gut twist.
Mistress of His Revenge (Bought by the Brazilian #1) Page 7