Читать книгу The Spaniard's Revenge - Susan Stephens, Susan Stephens - Страница 9

SOPHIE made a furious sound as she wrestled with the door locks. How could she have been so complacent? If Xavier thought she had come all the way to Peru to be incarcerated at Base Camp like some undependable youth— And she didn’t need looking after!

Swinging open the door, the sunlight hit her face. It was gloriously warm and, as the woman waiting outside began to speak, Sophie’s anger took a back seat.

‘Welcome to Peru, Dr Ford!’

A genuine beam of delight split the older woman’s face from ear to ear, displaying an enviable set of strong white teeth. ‘I’m Lola,’ she said, cocking her head to one side. Then she sighed wearily as she turned to view the man hovering in her substantial shadow. ‘And this is my husband, Juan.’

‘You speak English,’ Sophie said with relief, returning the smile as she extended her hand. ‘As you guessed, I’m Sophie Ford, a new doctor with the project. I’m very pleased to meet you, Lola. And I’m relieved to—’

‘Not as relieved as I am to have another woman around the place,’ Lola interrupted, bustling past her into the clinic. ‘Take the bike,’ she instructed Juan. ‘Put it away. Mind you stand it up properly.’

Sophie smiled. Something told her this wasn’t the first time Juan had received his orders for the day from Lola. ‘Bike?’ she said ingenuously, following Lola into the clinic, the kernel of an idea beginning to take shape in her mind.

‘Sí,’ Lola said, moving behind the improvised counter to check the boxes Xavier had found time to bring in from the truck before he left.

Sophie tried again. ‘You arrived here on a bike?’ The image of Lola and Juan teetering along together on a pushbike seemed unlikely, particularly as Xavier had said the next village was quite a distance away.

‘Sí,’ Lola said with a heavy sigh. ‘This man of mine is a little crazy,’ she confided fondly, twirling a finger around her head to illustrate the point. ‘He thinks he is a Hell’s Angel.’

‘Ah, a motorbike.’ A motorbike! Sophie could hardly contain her excitement. Her idea was rapidly blossoming into a fully fledged plan. ‘Could I borrow it?’

‘Borrow it! For what? Where would you go?’ Lola declaimed, her eyes as large as saucers. ‘No, Dr Ford,’ she said firmly. ‘This is not your London with traffic lights and zebras crossing. This is Peru, with spectacled bears and monkeys!’

‘Wonderful!’ Sophie said as her mind took a flight over the rugged terrain. She hadn’t even known there were bears in Peru. Well, except for Paddington, of course, who, according to the luggage tag thoughtfully placed around his neck by Michael Bond, the author of his bear-tales, came from Darkest Peru.

Gradually Sophie became aware of Lola’s curious glances and realised what a great first impression she was giving—a daydreaming doctor with hair sticking out all over her head, bare feet, and a rumpled top she’d slept in—hardly an image to inspire confidence in the patients. ‘What I mean is,’ she tried again, running her fingers through her hair in a failed attempt to tame it, ‘would you let Juan take me to find Xavier? You see,’ she said, uncomfortable with the lie, but forced to go on with it, ‘I overslept this morning, and he had to leave without me…’

Maybe it was the sheer desperation in her voice that had persuaded Lola to loan out her husband for the day, Sophie decided, clinging to Juan’s scrawny form as he leaned low over the handlebars. Right now, Sophie wished she hadn’t! The bike’s bald tyres kept skimming the edge of the narrow track, and beyond that there was a sheer drop half hidden in cloud. There was no point trying to say anything to Juan. He couldn’t hear a thing with the wind whistling in his ears. All Sophie could do was close her eyes.

She felt the ground smooth out abruptly and then her eyes flew open in alarm as Juan executed a wide, skidding turn. The first thing Sophie knew of the fall was staring at the dusty ground, wondering how she got there. The next few impressions came in a rush all at once. Xavier’s feet by her face, his voice like a report from a gun: ‘Estúpida!’ Shock that stopped her breathing for a few moments… And pain—in her leg, in her head, on her hands—everywhere. She shook him off furiously when he went to haul her to her feet.

‘What are you doing here, Xavier?’ Sophie struggled to recapture what little remained of her dignity, swiping dust from her face, mouth and hands while she waited for his explanation.

‘I heard the bike,’ he growled in a menacing tone, putting his face very close up to hers. ‘Sound travels in the mountains.’

He went to check her over, but Sophie broke away. ‘So, where the hell am I?’ she said, looking around. The groomed track where she was standing and the impressive gates in front of her might have been constructed to harmonise with nature but they smacked of high-spending tourists, not local patients.

Ignoring her question for the moment, Xavier turned to Juan. ‘Why have you brought Dr Ford here?’

‘I’m sorry. Dr Ford insisted—’

‘Never mind,’ Xavier said, resting his hand on Juan’s shoulder. ‘Go and get yourself something to eat and drink before you start back.’ He turned back to Sophie and looked her up and down. ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded sharply. His glance took in the bloodstains on the leg of her jeans.

‘Where is this?’ Sophie demanded tensely, ignoring his question. ‘Well? Are you going to tell me, or shall I just go and find out for myself?’ She tipped her chin in the direction Juan had taken. ‘I take it this road leads somewhere? Somewhere grand?’ she suggested acerbically.

‘Does your leg hurt?’ Xavier persisted, seeing her wince as she put her weight on it.

‘Don’t change the subject,’ Sophie warned. ‘Well, Xavier, are you going to answer me or not?’

He backed up a few steps and shot a glance at the sign she now saw was discreetly concealed in some shrubbery. ‘This is the Rancho del Condor, a luxury lodge and spa,’ he said evenly, ‘and you look like you could use a bath.’

Sophie’s lips compressed in an angry line. ‘The Rancho del Condor!’

‘Come,’ he said, waving her forward. ‘Now that you’re here I’d better take a look at that leg.’

‘I can deal with it myself, thank you. I take it there’s antiseptic at the Rancho—’ Abruptly her voice faltered and she swayed towards him. Shock, Sophie realised hazily, hands flailing desperately as she grabbed on to the only thing that was stable within her reach—Xavier.

‘What am I going to do with you?’ he demanded sharply. What indeed? he mused, supporting her around the waist. But then he was forced to reel in his baser instincts. He could feel her trembling. She was badly shaken up. Maybe she had concussion. He’d have to check her over thoroughly. ‘You could have been killed,’ he pointed out, stabbing a look at her. ‘And then—’

‘And then what? You’d care?’ Sophie demanded, angry with herself, with Xavier, with everything.

‘And then I’d be short of one doctor,’ he countered smoothly.

By the time they made it round the corner and the full splendour of her new surroundings was revealed, Sophie had recovered sufficiently to shake herself free. ‘Oh, I see!’ She narrowed her eyes, taking it all in. The immaculately groomed site was cosily sandwiched between towering rock faces, which provided the topographic equivalent of a heat-retaining soup bowl. But it was the buildings that really captured her attention. An indolent sprawl of tented pavilions, or wood-framed villas, she saw on closer inspection, draped with some flowing material to give them the appearance of rather glamorous rustic dwellings. But there was nothing remotely rustic about the Rancho del Condor, she realised tensely as Xavier stopped outside an open-fronted reception area.

‘Dr Martinez Bordiu—can I be of some further service to you?’

Sophie’s mouth tightened a fraction more as Xavier stopped to speak to the beautiful young Peruvian girl, wearing a pared down version of her national costume.

‘Well, Sophie?’ Xavier said, turning to her finally, ‘do you want that bath, or not?’

‘I’d sooner eat my own feet! Is this your idea of a joke?’

‘A joke?’ he said mildly.

Moving out of earshot of the girl, Sophie drew Xavier with her. ‘So this is where you stay,’ she said, glancing around. ‘Nice place you’ve got here, Doctor.’

‘What are you getting at?’ Xavier demanded, dipping his head to catch her high-octane whisper.

‘I’m accusing you of double standards,’ Sophie said flatly. ‘One for you, another for the rest of us.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘Just this…’ Sophie said, her expression hardening as she gestured around. ‘Rancho del Condor.’

‘Now just a minute—’

‘Don’t you just a minute me,’ she warned, snatching her arm out of his grasp.

But stamping down on her damaged leg at the same time made her wince. The graze she guessed was hiding under her jeans was really starting to sting and, to her horror, she felt tears burning her eyes—tears she had no intention of allowing Xavier to see. Keeping her head down, she gingerly tested her weight first on one foot and then the other. No serious harm done, she realised thankfully. Surface abrasions caused by the rasp of fabric on her skin must have caused the damage.

‘Let me see your leg—’

‘No.’ She stumbled back and away from him. Suddenly her arms were bound very tightly to her sides, and then she was swung off her feet completely and settled into his arms.

‘I’m getting you inside before you get yourself into any more trouble,’ Xavier said flatly. ‘You need cleaning up—and a bath.’

Sophie could hardly breathe through the panic that swept over her the moment she felt his arms close around her. ‘Let me go. Let me go, please.’

‘That leg needs cleaning up,’ Xavier said firmly, increasing his grip as she struggled to get away, ‘and a sick doctor is the last thing I need.’

‘No, you don’t understand. I can’t—’

‘Can’t what?’ he exclaimed impatiently, heading deeper into the exclusive resort.

Her heart was pumping so fast now Sophie only managed to gasp out, ‘I’m sorry—’

‘Sorry!’ Xavier exclaimed, settling her more comfortably in his arms. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry. I ask for a doctor, and they send me a mad woman who chooses to ride pillion behind the speed freak of the Andes.’

She was glad he couldn’t see her face—couldn’t see the stricken look she knew was painted across it. The look that came from fear…fear of ceding control to a man, any man, and Xavier most of all. Right now he might have emerged from the darkest corner of her blackest nightmare, and all because he was a full-blooded male with all the needs and desires that went with the territory—sex, force, violence—the mantra played over and over in her head, keeping rhythm with his strides, until she thought she would go quite mad. She wasn’t just frightened, Sophie realised, she was terrified. ‘Put me down, please,’ she begged hoarsely. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’

‘Aren’t you being a little melodramatic?’ Xavier said evenly without breaking stride. ‘I am a doctor. A little puke doesn’t worry me.’

‘I mean it.’

‘Look, we’re here,’ he said, stopping outside one of the largest luxury villas. ‘You can walk by yourself now.’ He set her down and stood back. ‘The bathroom’s just inside—go and be sick in there if you think you need to.’

The moment she was free again Sophie felt the panic subside. She took a few deep breaths to be certain. ‘I feel a lot better, thank you.’

‘In,’ Xavier said impatiently, flinging open the door.

‘Which charm school did you go to?’ Sophie demanded as she turned to confront him.

‘The same one as you, I imagine.’

Her whole body was on fire where he’d held her, Sophie realised, as she stepped into the villa. But it was a beguiling heat, not the dangerous flame of drunken passion that brought nothing but pain in its wake. Touch was as unique to the individual as a fingerprint.

‘What do you think?’ Xavier demanded, breaking into her thoughts.

He was waiting for her verdict on the accommodation, Sophie realised. ‘Very nice.’ She gazed round the extravagantly furnished room. It combined the best of modern technology as far as sound and vision was concerned with some fabulous examples of the local crafts—wood carving, ceramics and colourful textiles all shown off to best advantage by flickering candles and carefully positioned lighting.

‘I’m glad you like it,’

‘Oh, I really do,’ Sophie said, her voice crackling with tension as she drew a few fast conclusions. ‘The rest of the team gets to stay at base camp with a cold-water shower and a beat-up kitchen, while you stay here in the lap of luxury having a good laugh at our expense.’

‘The water would have heated up if you’d been patient—’

Sophie cut him off with a glare. ‘I don’t imagine patience comes into it here at the Rancho del Condor,’ she said, taking her time to turn a slow circle, eyebrows raised at an expressive angle.

‘Maybe not,’ Xavier conceded, ‘but this is not my—’

‘Not your what, Xavier?’ Sophie demanded. ‘Not your idea of something to share with the rest of us?’

Strolling around the room, she began to tick off in a highly charged voice, ‘Huge and undoubtedly very comfortable teak bed with…oh yes, unbleached linen sheets. A plump duvet loaded with hand-embroidered cushions. Two sofas…a collection of magazines and books…air conditioning?’ She threw him a look full of accusation. ‘And what’s this…don’t tell me—’

Xavier followed her through an impressive archway, hand-carved in wood, into another large room.

Standing on the threshold, Sophie planted her hands on her hips and looked around. ‘The bathroom you mentioned—all clad in marble, and a Jacuzzi made for two.’

‘Shall we try it out?’

There was laughter in Xavier’s eyes, Sophie noticed, and something else. Strange forces were beginning to invade her senses, and before she could turn away from him they turned her limbs soft and compliant where only moments ago she had been stiff with defiance. She tried putting Xavier out of her mind, but the light was hazy gold filtered through muslin at the windows, and the temperature was body warm. There was a beguiling aroma, as if someone had been in just before them to spritz some rare and exotic scent into the air. She had never seen such a selection of full-sized bath oils and lotions in her life, and though she recognised most of the exclusive names the temptation to open just one or two was overwhelming. She felt like a child let loose in a sweet shop…except the sweetness here offered a different kind of stimulation, and she felt her nipples tightening in response as she paused and cast another look at Xavier. Rancho del Condor was a place out of time, a magical, mystical place and, for a few rare moments, even the fear of raw masculinity she had lived with all her life seemed to recede. Surely she hadn’t come to such a dramatic and beautiful land as Peru to endure the same hang-ups she lived with back home?

Sophie cast a languorous stare through the voile-draped window at the vista of rock face and foliage that lay beyond the luxury villa. She was alone with Xavier in a romantic setting she had never expected to encounter in Peru, let alone with him. It was an opportunity that might never come again—but there was his pride to contend with; she had pushed him away, acted like an ice-queen. But that didn’t make the compulsion to feel his strength beneath her hands go away.

Sophie gazed up. She was close enough to inhale Xavier’s warm, spicy scent—close enough to touch him, to hold him. She was bathed in his aura, intoxicated by her surroundings, and emotions that had been suppressed too long made her reckless. Reaching out, she rested her hands either side of his waist, fingers splaying down to embrace the strength in his hips.

Xavier jerked back, leaving her dazed for a moment.

‘What are you doing?’ His eyes narrowed. This wasn’t how he planned it. She got it on his terms, or not at all. He gave the stark outline of her erect nipples a frank appraisal. She had great breasts, full and tip-tilted. He could imagine her naked without any trouble—fine-boned frame, long, slender legs to wrap around his waist, and those full lips parted just like they were now, but noisily sucking in plumes of air when he finally gave her what she was begging for. He had seen that look on women’s faces countless times before. It had ceased to stir him way back, but the sight of Sophie Ford in an erotic frenzy pleased him greatly. It made him more determined than ever to keep her waiting. By punishing the daughter he could already feel some small relief, as if he was reaching down into hell and punishing her father as well.

He saw her eyes clear. She seemed lost, dazed. If he hadn’t known her father he might have been fooled at that moment into thinking she had suddenly come to her senses. But hadn’t he seen that look somewhere before—that mock-penitent I’m-as-innocent-as-the-day-is-long look? It was exactly the same expression her father had worn right after the accident! Did she think she could play him like a pike on a line? No problem, Dr Ford, Xavier mused sardonically. If that’s where you’re coming from, I’ll give you all the sex you want—but at a time of my own choosing, not yours.

‘I need to check you out for signs of concussion, and take a look at that leg,’ he said, a pleasant and professional tone masking the true line of his thoughts. ‘There should be a first aid kit in this cupboard.’

Shock at what she had done—at Xavier’s reaction to it—filled Sophie with successive waves of fury and shame. ‘You seem to know this place well,’ she said angrily, defensively.

‘I should do,’ Xavier said cuttingly, removing what he needed from a square white box. ‘It belongs to my mother.’

Sophie’s face reddened as she realised her mistake.

‘I come here on a regular basis to check on things for her. Check the KPIs against the targets and budgets I’ve agreed with the local management—’

‘KPIs?’ Sophie seized the chance to return to safer ground.

‘Key performance indicators—companies have vital signs just like the body,’ Xavier said, glancing up. ‘It’s how I measure all my business activities, and my staff’s performance—’

‘Even mine?’ she cut in, then immediately wished she hadn’t.

‘I haven’t got round to you yet. But I will,’ he promised. ‘Now, take your jeans off.’

Sophie’s mouth dried. ‘I’ll roll them back.’

With a fast, impatient glance, Xavier caught hold of her calf. ‘Will you relax while I clean this leg?’ he demanded as she tensed.

Sophie complied, bracing herself against his touch as much as the antiseptic. ‘How long will you stay here?’ she said to distract herself.

‘I’d no intention of staying here at all until you turned up. I only broke my journey to collect the data I mentioned. This project is as important in its way as the medical programme. It brings much-needed work to the area.’

‘Your mother’s idea?’

‘Rancho del Condor was my gift to her. She needed something after—’ He stopped as if he had said too much. A flare of anger touched his face, and he let go of her leg as if suddenly he couldn’t bear to touch her. Then, gathering himself, he continued treating her again as if nothing untoward had occurred.

He had supported his mother to take her mind off the tragic death of Armando, her younger son, to bring a sense of purpose back into her life. Sophie couldn’t help but feel a little warmer towards him. He was a difficult man, but he still cared.

‘I have always handled the business end for her,’ Xavier said, cutting into her musings. ‘But without my mother’s flair…’ He shrugged expressively as he looked up. Briefly their eyes locked, and then he looked away.

She should have known, Sophie thought. Everything about the exclusive establishment bore the unmistakable stamp of Xavier’s glamorous Italian mother. She could only guess at the emotional wounds that the woman must have sustained following the tragic death of Xavier’s brother. Now there was someone who must truly hate her family and everyone connected with it, she realised, suppressing a shudder.

‘Am I hurting you?’ Xavier asked, misreading the movement beneath his hands.

‘No, not at all,’ Sophie said. ‘You were telling me about your mother,’ she prompted, hungry to hear more.

‘She stayed at a few luxury lodges in Africa, and persuaded me that something similar could be achieved here—a retreat from the stresses of the city where the comfort of the guests doesn’t come at the expense of the environment. You’re fine,’ he said, reverting to doctor-speak again. ‘You’re shaken up, a few scratches; you’ve been lucky.’

‘Thank you, Doctor.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

For a brief moment, as he straightened up, they almost smiled at each other, and then, as if remembering the roles the past had imposed upon them, they became guarded again.

‘Perhaps I should take you back to base. It would be simpler—’

‘For you, or for me?’ Sophie broke in. ‘I’ve no intention of being stuck on the sidelines, Xavier, while you do all the things I read about in my joining details.’ As his eyes flared a warning, Sophie seized the challenge. ‘I may work for you, but please remember I signed a contract based on your promotional material. Are you telling me now that I was misled?’

Xavier stared at her. ‘Why, Sophie? Are you thinking of suing me?’

‘I’m not joking, Xavier.’

‘We’ll talk about this in the morning,’ he said, moving back through the arch into the bedroom. ‘It was a very long journey. You should find everything you need,’ he added, as if suddenly he couldn’t wait to get away.

‘Like last time? I wake up and find you gone?’

Now he did smile—a slow, brooding, dangerous smile that sent a shiver racing down the length of her spine.

‘There is a solution,’ he observed in his low, husky voice.

‘Oh, really? And what’s that?’

‘I stay here,’ he said easily. ‘That way you can keep an eye on me.’

‘In here?’ Sophie demanded. ‘With me?’

‘It is a very big bed.’ Xavier’s lips curved in a smile as he contemplated working off his contempt for her family in such pleasurable circumstances.

‘No way!’

Staring at her tense, angry face, he remembered her coming on to him just a short while back. He’d make her pay for the games she liked to play, and pay and pay again, until she was so desperate she got down on her knees and begged him for it…

‘But if you’re going to abandon me anywhere…’

When he saw the change in her face Xavier had to admit he was impressed. Tease, to ice-queen, and then on to insolent defiance in no time flat.

‘If this is the accommodation that comes with the job, it will do.’ Sophie shrugged expressively.

‘Touché—for now, Dr Ford,’ Xavier conceded, shooting her a brooding glance. ‘I’ll be right next door,’ he promised, turning on his heel. ‘Just call me if you need anything. Meanwhile, why don’t you make the most of that Jacuzzi, and then get changed while I order dinner?’ He turned, pausing with his hand on the door as he looked at her. ‘It will give me a chance to brief you on our work out here while we eat.’ And the rest, he mused, as some very primitive urges took him over.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to take me as I am.’

‘My pleasure.’

‘I don’t have anything clean to wear,’ Sophie explained, viewing her bloodstained jeans. It was a relief to have something else to stare at apart from Xavier’s dark eyes.

He could find no way past her defences. ‘That isn’t a problem. You know my mother,’ he added when Sophie looked at him blankly. ‘She insisted there should be a boutique here. Go,’ he said, gesturing towards the bathroom when she hesitated. ‘I’ll be back in about an hour.’

She had no money to shop. But there was a fluffy cream robe hanging in the bathroom, Sophie remembered. She would just have to put her underwear on after her bath and wear that.

Back in his own suite, Xavier wondered why, of all the doctors in the world, fate had sent him Sophie Ford. Taking a moment to consider, he felt the unmistakable tug of sexual hunger—and it was getting stronger all the time. Why, of all the women in the world, did he want her so badly? And why—when it should have been a simple matter to take her to bed—was he making them both wait? Maybe because the last time he’d seen her she was just a kid. But now… Folding his arms across his chest, Xavier’s expression hardened as he eased on to one hip and stared unseeing through the window into the darkness. She was an adult member of the Ford family. She deserved everything she had coming to her. The chase was on, he mused grimly. The champagne aperitif to the full-bodied claret of sex—he loved them both.

The only thing holding him back was that the suggestion of a relationship with a member of the Ford family might be enough to return his mother to her sickbed. He couldn’t—he wouldn’t risk it. She had suffered enough pain at the hands of the Ford family. But then, what he had planned for Sophie Ford wasn’t about to cause his mother a moment’s discomfort, Xavier reminded himself.

He ground his jaws together as he conjured up a picture of Sophie naked and demanding in his mind. She wasn’t afraid to stand up to him, and she would come to his bed, he determined with a harsh smile of anticipation. She was a modern woman—she understood her own needs as well as he knew his own. He would take his pleasure and they would go their separate ways. The irony in the situation appealed to him. It was a relationship that would suit them both—the temptress and the avenger—both finding satisfaction in their own way.

Sophie could have remained soaking in the warm, scented bubbles till night, but a soft female voice coming from the bedroom brought her to her senses. By the time she had climbed out of the Jacuzzi and wrapped herself in the robe, there was no one to be seen. But someone had been in the room, and that someone had left half a dozen carrier bags behind. On top of one of them lay a stiff ivory vellum card printed with the del Condor name in a flourish at the top. Picking it up, Sophie read the bold black handwriting underneath.

Now don’t be difficult. Consider these an advance on your wages. Xavier.

She should have known his mother would include a fashionable boutique in her plans. But she should refuse, Sophie thought, viewing the line of carrier bags suspiciously. She would refuse, she decided firmly.

It wouldn’t hurt to take a peek inside them first.

She couldn’t refuse, she realised, swallowing hard.

Letting the robe drop to the floor, she plucked out some underwear first: a cobweb of lace held together by a ribbon of silk. Turning it this way and that, she decided he had got the size about right—and then blushed. Xavier had weighed her up pretty accurately, Sophie realised as she settled her breasts inside the minimalist restraint. The matching thong was something else—it tied at the sides. She made a double knot, and then lost the best part of five minutes and two nails undoing it again. He was hardly going to pounce on her; that wasn’t Xavier’s style. Looping it once, she turned back to the carrier bags. Wide-legged linen trousers in cream, and a sky-blue silk sleeveless top with a low-cut neck were simply irresistible, if only because she had never imagined in a million years she would get the chance to wear anything so glamorous in her life, let alone in Peru.

It was almost impossible to convince herself she had made a practical choice for eating dinner and discussing business—but she kept the clothes on anyway, and slipped her feet into some simple cream leather mules she found in another bag.

‘Are you ready yet? Can I come in?’

‘Just a minute.’ Dinner and business—and nothing more, Sophie reminded herself fiercely, as she hunted through the remaining bags. Somewhere she had seen some toiletries—basic make-up, a hairbrush…

‘Make yourself decent. I’m coming in.’

Groaning with frustration, she emptied all the bags out on the floor and then pounced on what she needed.

She looked like a child on Christmas Day, Xavier thought. His heart lurched in a way he hadn’t anticipated as he watched Sophie rooting through clouds of tissue paper and the new clothes he had sent her as a prelude to seduction. ‘I’ll go out again if you’re not quite ready,’ he offered casually.

‘No, no, that’s fine. I’m ready,’ Sophie said, hastily gathering everything up. ‘This is far too much,’ she protested as he walked over to help her. ‘I’ll never be able to pay you back.’

‘Don’t be too sure,’ Xavier murmured as he picked up the beautiful designer swimming costume she had just dropped on the floor. ‘I’ll get my money’s worth out of you one way or the other.’

‘Don’t you be too sure,’ Sophie countered, ignoring the icy fingers that clutched at her spine as their gazes met.

Dinner was possibly the most delicious meal Sophie had ever tasted in her life: a selection of pasta in the lightest, most flavoursome sauces, and salads designed to seduce the palate. There were so many delicacies she couldn’t even begin to try them all.