Читать книгу Santiago's Command - Ким Лоренс, KIM LAWRENCE - Страница 7

DESPITE the fact she had been a successful model, Lucy had never been obsessed by fashion. This was not to say she didn’t like clothes. Her lifestyle now meant comfort was the order of the day; heels were not much good when you were mucking out the stables! However, there were occasions when she got tired of her androgynous work clothes and sensible shoes and then she’d open the wardrobe and spend an hour or so parading around her bedroom in some of the clothes she had kept from her previous life.

It wasn’t so much that she missed being a clothes horse, because she didn’t; it was more she missed being, well … a woman!

And now, feeling the silky swish of a dress that had come from the designer in question’s famous ‘Marilyn Collection’—a gift, he’d said, because she had made him wish he were straight—Lucy had to admit the bright red dress really did do some amazing things for her figure, making her waist look tiny and her curves look lush.

She brushed her hands down the bodice and glanced in the mirror. The figure-hugging cut made the fabric cling to the long lines of her thighs when she moved. The effect was sexy and provocative, which seemed appropriate when what she wanted to do was provoke! Her anger felt strange when she’d spent the last four years trying to play down her looks and blend in.

An image of Santiago Silva’s autocratic dark features formed in her head and the beginnings of doubt faded. Pursing her lips, Lucy gave her reflection a nod. The look was exactly what she wanted. Now, she told herself, was not the time for doubts.

‘Wow, you look …’ Ramon swallowed ‘… different.’

She arched a brow and, closing the door, followed him across the yard. ‘Different good or different bad?’ she teased.

Ramon laughed and opened the door to his low-slung car. ‘Oh, definitely good, but it’s lucky you didn’t look like that the first time I saw you.’

‘Why?’ Lucy was curious.

‘Because I wouldn’t have dared approach you. You look way out of my league tonight, Lucy.’

‘I’m still me.’ Lucy felt uneasy, Ramon’s appreciation bordering on reverence.

The sense of anticipation and righteous indignation she had begun the journey with began to fade by the time they reached the massive gates of the Silva estancia, replaced by a growing sense of unease and guilt.

What the hell was she doing? This was a crazy idea! She glanced towards Ramon and thought, Not just crazy—cruel. In her determination to score points off the awful brother she had not paused to consider the consequences of her actions. Not for one second had she considered the hurt she might be inflicting on the nice brother.

The sense of shame grew until she couldn’t bear it another second.

‘I can’t,’ she muttered under her breath as she reached for her seat belt. ‘Stop!’

Ramon responded to the shrill screech and hit the brake, jerking Lucy, who had freed herself from the belt, into the windscreen.

‘Madre mia, are you all right?’

Lucy rubbed her head and leaned back in the seat. ‘Fine,’ she said, dismissing his concern with a shake of her head and then regretting it, she had the start of a headache.

‘What’s wrong?’ Ramon cast a questioning look at her tense profile. ‘I could have slowed down, all you had to do was ask,’ he joked lightly as he wound down the window. ‘That was quite a bang you took.’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘So, other than my driving, what’s the problem?’

Lucy looked at Ramon and read concern in his handsome face. She bit her lip, feeling more guilty than ever. She took a deep breath. There was no way she could continue with the charade so it was best to come clean now.

‘No, I’m not all right—I’m a total bitch!’ Not as much of a bitch as Santiago Silva thought she was, but it was a close thing.

Ramon looked annoyingly unconvinced by her emotional claim.

‘When I rang you it wasn’t … it was a mistake. I’m sorry. I know I let you believe, but the—I’m not interested in you that way …’

Ramon did not display the shock she had anticipated. ‘I did wonder … So, you don’t fancy me?’

She flashed him a grateful look and shook her head slowly. ‘I really am sorry.’

‘Are you sure you don’t fancy me?’

This drew a laugh from Lucy, who begged, ‘Please don’t be nice to me! I feel awful enough as it is.’

‘Relax, I’ll survive. It’s not as though I haven’t been knocked back before …’ He paused and grinned. ‘Actually I haven’t. I’m wondering why …?’

She shook her head.

As Ramon sat there looking at her in silence for the first time she saw some family resemblance, a likeness to his brother, not so much in the individual features, more the tilt of his head and his hairline … hairline! She frowned. She had only met him the once and the encounter had lasted minutes but weirdly the details of Santiago Silva’s face were burned into her brain.

‘So why did you ring me and say you’d changed your mind?’

‘I was angry and I wanted to punish.’

‘Me?’

‘No, of course not. The thing is I met your brother and he—he made me mad.’

‘Santiago made you mad …?’ Ramon echoed in astonishment.

Ramon saw the anger in her sparkling expressive eyes before she tipped her head tightly. ‘Yes.’ He grew curious. This was not the usual impression his brother made on women.

‘When did you meet Santiago? What did he do?’

Lucy rolled down her window and took a gulp of fresh night air redolent of pine. ‘I met him yesterday and then again this morning …’ For a split second she considered telling him the truth, but held back. What was it about that wretched man that turned her into some sort of petty vengeful cow?

It wasn’t as if people had not thought and said worse about her. Why had his assumption got to her this way? Just thinking about him made her skin prickle.

‘It … it was something and nothing, really,’ she admitted, rubbing her arms as if she could rub away the memory. ‘He recognised me yesterday. You don’t know, but a few years ago I—’

‘Oh, the super-injunction stuff, you mean.’

Lucy stared at him in astonishment. ‘You know about that?’

Ramon, who was adjusting his tie in the rear-view mirror, turned his head and looked amused. ‘Of course I know about it, Lucy.’

‘But how?’

He waved his mobile phone at her. ‘I punched in your name, though actually,’ he admitted, ‘I was checking out your age on the off chance … not that I have a problem with an older woman,’ he added quickly. ‘In fact, but well, never mind. Imagine my surprise when I got not only your age but the other stuff, too.’

‘Oh!’ Lucy said, feeling foolish for not anticipating this possibility. It was impossible to have secrets when all someone had to do was punch in a name and your life—or a version of it—appeared on a screen.

‘So all this …’ the expressive downward sweep of his hand took in the silk that clung like a second skin to her body ‘… is for Santiago’s benefit, not mine.’

His brother sounded more philosophical than annoyed by this discovery, but Lucy was horrified by the suggestion.

‘Of course not!’ She almost bounced in her seat in her enthusiasm to deny the suggestion. Then as she examined her conscience she added, ‘Well, not in that way.’

‘So what did big brother do to make you so mad? Threaten to have you arrested for corrupting a minor? Have you framed for a felony? Pay you to leave the country?’

Lucy looked away quickly, but not quickly enough.

Ramon’s joking expression vanished. ‘Dio, he did, didn’t he? Santiago tried to pay you off?’

‘He … sort of,’ she admitted, feeling reluctant to tell tales.

‘I don’t believe it,’ Ramon breathed, looking stunned.

‘I understand your brother wanted to protect you. It’s only natural.’ She stopped and thought, Why am I defending the man who is clearly a total control freak?

‘Will you do me a favour, Lucy?’

Lucy quashed her instinct to say anything out of sympathy. ‘That depends,’ she responded warily.

‘Go through with your plan to teach my big brother a lesson.’

For the first time Lucy heard anger in his voice and realised that it was aimed, not at her, but his brother. ‘I’m sure he thought he was doing the right thing …’

‘You’re still defending him?’

‘No, of course I’m not,’ she replied indignantly. ‘I think your brother is the most …’ She became aware of Ramon’s expression and stopped.

‘He’s really got under your skin, hasn’t he?’ he observed.

Lucy adopted an amused expression and lied. ‘It takes more than your brother to get under my skin.’

‘You won’t deny that he needs teaching a lesson …?’ She nodded—how could she not? ‘So why not give him a night to remember? Why not? You’re all dressed up and nowhere to go. Please … for me?’ he coaxed. ‘Or if not, for good old-fashioned revenge? I’m tired of Santiago always thinking he knows what is best for me. For once, I’d like him to treat me like a man. I know he means it for the best and I know my mother gives him a hard time and blames him every time I mess up, but it’s humiliating and …’

‘You want to teach him a lesson.’

Ramon nodded. ‘He’s gone too far this time and he’s involved a friend. What’ll he do the next time—lock me in my room? I’d just like to be the one doing the manipulating for once, so he knows what it feels like.’

Lucy sighed. ‘I’m probably going to regret this …’

‘My God, it’s a castle.’ Lucy sat awestruck in her seat as Ramon stood by the open door. ‘Enormous!’ she breathed, staring at the intimidating edifice lit by strategically placed spotlights. ‘As in national monument enormous … is that tower Moorish?’

Ramon cast a negligent look over his shoulder. ‘I think … yeah, it’s big,’ he agreed.

She started to shake her head. ‘I can’t do this.’

Ramon grabbed her arm and hauled her out. ‘No, you’re not going to chicken out now. It was your idea, remember.’

The impetus of his tug made her stagger into his arms. ‘A terrible idea!’ she muttered in his ear, drawing a laugh from Ramon.

‘Are you not going to introduce me to your guest?’

The voice as smooth as silk made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. The only thing that prevented her jumping away from Ramon was the hand in the small of her back.

‘Of course.’

Ramon loosed her but as she pulled away grabbed her hand.

Lucy took a deep breath, the surface of her skin prickling in a weird response to the sound of his voice. ‘Good evening.’ She turned her head as Santiago Silva emerged fully from the shadows.

Her already rapid heart picked up tempo as she struggled to hide her reaction, not that he could be unaccustomed to attracting awed stares.

He was, she admitted, pretty awesome and she was staring.

She struggled to direct her gaze past him, but like a compass point returning north her eyes zeroed back to the tall, rampantly male figure dressed in a beautifully cut dark suit teamed with a white shirt he wore open at the neck. The informality went skin deep; he looked exclusively and every inch the autocratic patrician occupier of a castle.

He inclined his dark head, the courtesy of the gesture doing nothing to disguise the predatory gleam in his hooded eyes.

She was no adrenaline junkie but she imagined it might feel this way to jump out of a plane with nothing but a parachute. Actually maybe not even the parachute, she thought, moistening her dry lips with the tip of her tongue.

The nervous action drew his dark gaze to her mouth.

Lucy swallowed and felt a flicker of apprehension. Harriet had warned her that this was not a man to be messed with and she was messing. Was she mad or just …? She swallowed, suddenly identifying the emotion mingled in with the trepidation as excitement … Yes, clearly she was mad!

Santiago recognised the surge of molten anger he felt as he watched them, but refused to acknowledge the accompanying emotion as being related in any way to jealousy. He was not jealous of his brother; he was furious! Furious that Ramon could be so stupid; frustrated that he could not think above waist level; that he could not see past the stunning beauty of the woman in his arms.

He, on the other hand, could compartmentalise, think past the painful level of his arousal. She really was the embodiment of sin, he decided, swallowing hard as his burning glance moved over the undulating curves of her body. She was sheathed in a tight red dress that would probably and legitimately in his opinion be illegal in several countries.

‘Lucy, this is my big brother, Santiago … Santiago, this is Lucy.’

Ramon pushed her forward with a pat on her bottom that under other circumstances Lucy would have objected to, and she found herself taking a stumbling step towards Santiago. Recovering her poise and covering her growing anxiety behind a plastic smile, she took a second, more graceful step, murmuring a good evening and ignoring the voice in her head that was counselling she run in the opposite direction.

Her half-extended hand fell away as Santiago met her midway. Bending down towards her—not something that happened a lot when you were five ten in your bare feet—he planted his hands on her shoulders.

The light touch concealed a strength that she felt as strongly as the brush of his breath on her cheek. Steeling herself for an air kiss, she stiffened, gasped faintly and closed her eyes as his mouth, his lips, lightly touched her skin.

Feeling the responsive quiver run through her body, he smiled and bent in closer.

‘Great work,’ he admired. ‘Though you might want to rethink the dress—it’s a bit obvious—but the husky sexy voice, nice touch, I like it …’

The blue eyes winked wider in protest. ‘What? Husky, sexy? I wasn’t …’

She stopped, remembering just in time her role of heartless courtesan, and produced a wide, brilliantly insincere smile as she whispered back, ‘In my experience—’

‘No doubt vast.’ His nostrils quivered in response to the fragrance she wore. It smelt of something light, floral and very feminine.

‘You have no idea.’ A joking comment made by her solicitor drifted back into her head. ‘The only way we can legally clear your name is to produce a medical certificate saying you’re a virgin.’ He had never appreciated the black irony. ‘In my experience there is no such thing as too obvious when it comes to men, and if you think that was sexy … watch and learn …’

She let her voice trail away significantly and had the satisfaction of seeing a muscle along his hard jaw clench. She lifted her chin, turning a deaf ear to the voice in her head that was screaming warnings about playing with fire. Instead of lowering the temperature she raised it several degrees, responding to the anger she saw reflected back at her in the dark surface of his eyes with a slow ‘cat got the cream’ smile.

The guiding hand that then slid to her elbow was not this time light, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of reacting to the biting, bone-crushing grip of his fingers. With Ramon walking on the other side of her, he steered her towards the sweep of stairs that led to the massive porticoed entrance.

Feeling more frogmarched than guided, she lifted the ankle-length hem of her skirt as gracefully as she could and took the first step up.

It’s never too late to run.