The Gold Collection: Bedded By A Billionaire. Kim Lawrence

night air almost dizzy with relief that the ordeal was over.

      Just behind her she was conscious of Ramon pausing to speak to the man who had emerged from the house but the effort of translating what they were saying was beyond her.

      She was struggling to think anything beyond the fact that she was escaping from this place and that hateful man; she wanted to forget the entire evening had ever happened.

      And she would—tomorrow she would go back to doing what she had actually come here to do. God knew why she had ever got involved. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been insulted before, but she had never lowered herself to her persecutor’s level; she had always maintained her silence and the moral high ground.

      Anyway this was not her battle, it was Ramon’s. If he had issues with his brother he could sort them out himself. ‘Wait in the car.’

      Lucy automatically extended a hand to catch the keys he threw her. ‘What?’

      ‘Phone call. It’s urgent and no one can find Santiago. I’ll be back in a minute,’ Ramon promised, following the sober-suited man back indoors.

      No one knows where he is. She glanced back at the building; golden light spilled from the windows making her think of eyes watching her.

      ‘Seriously paranoid, Lucy.’ Her laugh had a hollow sound as she turned her back on the building, unable to shake the feeling that the man they couldn’t find was in one of those windows watching her.

      She shivered and told herself it was the chill in the evening air. Despite this she did not follow Ramon’s suggestion and take shelter in the car. Instead Lucy wandered away from the brooding presence of the sombre fortified house.

      She had walked some way across the manicured lawn when she found herself drawn towards the sound of water and discovered, not the pond she had expected, but a river.

      She walked out onto the wooden bridge and, leaning her arms on the rail, gazed down into the dark water. Her expression was pensive as her thoughts drifted, the memories of the evening revolving in her head. If not the worst night of her life, it had been right up there.

      On the plus side—her brow puckered as she struggled to come up with one, other than the fact the night was over and if she ever saw Santiago Silva again she would leg it in the opposite direction. She was hanging up her scarlet-woman hat.

      Trailing a hand towards the water, she leaned farther over the rail, following a leaf caught on the current, running to the opposite side as it disappeared from view to follow its progress.

      Santiago, who had followed her from outside the house, watched as she leaned forward. The lust that lay coiled in his belly morphed into alarm as she leaned so far over the rail that she appeared in danger of toppling in. This woman seemed oddly drawn to water and bridges.

      ‘If you’re planning on jumping in don’t expect me to leap in and save you.’

      Lucy started as if shot, took a hasty step backwards and found herself staring at Santiago. He was looking mean, moody and, if she was honest, totally magnificent in the moonlight.

      She took a deep breath and lifted her chin as he stepped onto the bridge.

      ‘Relax, I don’t need saving. I’m not on the lookout for a white knight.’ Which was just as well as he definitely did not meet the criteria … all that dark brooding stuff made him far more likely to be the bad boy.

      ‘That wasn’t an offer.’

      ‘And it so happens I swim like a fish.’ She felt no guilt for playing up her ability.

      ‘Just as well, given your affinity for water. I keep finding you knee deep.’

      She extended a leg, displaying a dry and slightly muddied shoe. ‘I wasn’t paddling, but I’m a Pisces so maybe that’s it, and I wasn’t going to jump.’

      ‘No …?’

      ‘You sound disappointed.’

      His grin flashed and faded as his dark glance slid down her body. Lucy was disgusted with herself for being unable to control the flash of heat that engulfed her body. Dear God, all the man had to do was look at her and she started acting like some sort of hormonal teenager.

      ‘If I throw you into the water will you sprout a tail and swim away?’ It was true, she did look like a particularly sultry mermaid in that dress with the cloud of silvery hair, a siren capable of luring men to their deaths.

      And her intended victim was Ramon. His brother’s life might not be in danger but his heart was, and he would save Ramon from this woman’s clutches by whatever means possible.

      And if money was not a lure he would have to think of something that was … and if it required that he used himself as bait it was a sacrifice he was willing to make.

      You’re a saint, Santiago, admired the sardonic voice in his head.

      Lucy inhaled and straightened her shoulders. Her fingers tightened on the wooden rail, her defiant pose perilously fragile as he walked towards her. It was utterly mystifying how a man as big as him could move so silently, like some big jungle cat stalking his prey.

      The analogy sent a shiver sliding down her spine as she watched him approach, the golden-toned skin of his throat and face very dark in contrast to the dazzling white of his shirt.

      You didn’t have to like the man to be utterly riveted by the way he moved and nobody could fail to be aware—in an objective way—of the aura of raw, earthy sensuality he exuded.

      Lucy bit her lip and felt her shaky composure develop a few more cracks as he paused, his hand on the rail, a few feet away from her. She looked at his fingers only inches away from her own and tightened her grip, easing her hand back surreptitiously. She had a nasty feeling that if he touched her even lightly those cracks she was aware of would split wide apart.

      ‘Do I make you nervous, Lucy?’ he asked, staring at the blue veined pulse point that was throbbing at the base of her throat.

      ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

      When he responded to the breathless accusation with a slow smile that said he knew exactly how his presence made her feel, her heart hammered against her ribs. She found herself hating him more than ever. It was weird but she had never felt this sort of violent animosity towards anyone, not even Denis Mulville, who had made her a hate figure out of sheer spite.

      ‘Do you always lurk like that?’ She pressed a hand to her breastbone, hating the fact she still sounded breathless because, yes, he made her nervous … not excited, because that would be stupid.

      ‘I’m not lurking. It is my habit to take a walk before I go to bed.’

      ‘Then don’t let me stop you.’

      ‘From walking or going to bed?’

      ‘You followed me, didn’t you …?’ Lucy felt pretty stupid for not seeing the obvious and smelling a set up. ‘You planned …’ she moved her hands in an expressive fluttering motion and fixed him with a blue accusing glare ‘… this.’

      ‘Such piercing insight,’ he drawled, drawing a hissing sound of rage from between her clenched teeth. ‘I did warn you what would happen if you came near my family.’

      ‘So how is Gabby?’

      ‘Back in school.’ Gabby had assumed the day-early return was part of her punishment and Santiago had seen no reason to disabuse her of this notion. At least she was safely out of reach, though he doubted that his daughter would have found the scent of this woman’s perfume quite so disturbing.

      Sure, Santiago, you’re so ‘disturbed’ that you can’t think above the waist. Admit it like a man—you want her so bad you can taste it.

      ‘Lucy’s changed her mind—she’s coming!’ had been the words that had greeted him on his return that morning, making it pretty conclusive that