The Vásquez Mistress. Sarah Morgan

hadn’t expected. ‘It’s over. You wanted an escape, well, I’m giving you one. Get out.’

      ‘It would have been a great deal better for both of us had you realised that a few months ago. As it is, your timing is unfortunate. I’m your husband, cariño, although you could be forgiven for forgetting that fact, given that we were married for all of two hours before you ran away.’

      ‘I didn’t run away. I’m not a child or a convict. I left because I discovered what a monumental mistake I’d made about you. I wouldn’t have married you at all if I’d known what you were like.’

      Remembering the circumstances of their wedding, Raul gave a bitter laugh. ‘I think we both know that isn’t the case. Anyway, you made your bed and fortunately for you it’s a great deal more comfortable than the one you’re lying in at the moment.’

      ‘I’m not going with you, Raul, and you can’t make me. I’m not one of your staff.’

      ‘If one of my staff had behaved the way you did,’ he snapped, ‘they would no longer be working for me. Unfortunately we are now legally bound, so firing you isn’t an option. Believe me, I’ve considered it.’ His phone rang and he took the call, simmering with dark, deadly emotion, his eyes on hers as he listened and then broke the connection.

      ‘My plane has been refuelled, a medical team is now on board and we take off in an hour from now.’

      She shrank away from him. ‘I’m not well enough to go with you. I haven’t fully recovered.’

      ‘Then you can complete your recovery in the sunshine by my pool,’ he returned in a cool tone and she flopped back against the pillows, looking drained and exhausted. Raul wondered grimly whether her pallor was a reflection of the effort the confrontation had required, or the fact that she was contemplating the reality of being back in a marriage that she never should have entered in the first place.

      You wanted a war, my beauty, he thought bitterly, and you fired the first shot. Now live with the consequences.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      TWENTY-FOUR hours later, Faith was lying on a sun-lounger under the shade of a huge umbrella. In front of her lay the perfectly still waters of the most stunning pool she’d ever seen and all around her a profusion of exotic plants and trees gave her the impression of being deep in a lush rainforest.

      Once they’d landed in Buenos Aires she’d expected him to take her straight back to the estancia, but instead he’d taken one look at her pale face and given instructions for them to be taken straight to the Vásquez building, his corporate headquarters in the smartest district of the vibrant South American city.

      She’d swiftly discovered that his corporate headquarters was crowned by a breathtaking penthouse apartment, complete with a lush, exotic roof garden.

      He’d taken her straight up to this outdoor paradise but she found herself wondering about the apartment. When did he use it? And what for?

      Already aware of just how little she knew him, this further question gnawed away inside her but she forced herself not to think about it. She had other, more pressing issues demanding her attention: like the reason he’d brought her back to Argentina.

      When she’d stumbled away from him on their wedding day, she hadn’t thought for a moment that he’d follow her. Why would he, when he’d made it perfectly clear that he didn’t love her?

      Remembering the things that he’d said to her, she gave a shiver.

      She’d been so utterly shocked by what had happened that her only thought had been to get as far away from him as possible.