One Night in Buenos Aires: The Vásquez Mistress. Sarah Morgan

being so connected with her thoughts.

      ‘You don’t know that. It feels as though it is.’ Her voice was clogged with tears. ‘Perhaps that baby knew that it had stirred up a hornet’s nest between us. Perhaps it knew, Raul.’

      ‘You are torturing yourself for no reason.’

      ‘You wanted to know how I feel. I’m telling you. I feel guilty. Sad. Disappointed. Angry with you.’ She swallowed painfully and her voice dropped to a whisper. ‘And empty. Really, really empty. Because I’ve lost something that was part of me. Part of us. And I know it wasn’t planned, but once I found out about it I just wanted it.’ It was too much. Letting a tiny drop of emotion escape was dangerous when so much of it was bottled up.

      ‘You always were maternal. I watched you delivering foals and I knew then that you were trouble.’ His tone was gruff and she knew he was acknowledging what they’d both known: that this was always going to be an enormous issue between them.

      ‘I didn’t think it would be a problem,’ she admitted hoarsely. ‘I had no plans to settle down and get married. Children were something in the far-distant future so when you told me that wasn’t what you wanted, I suppose it just didn’t really seem relevant. We were having fun and we were happy. That was what mattered.’

      ‘The problem was always there.’

      ‘Only if you were thinking in terms of marriage and a future, and I wasn’t.’ Her fingers tightened on the duvet. ‘I didn’t see it as a problem.’

      ‘You mean you hoped I would wake up one morning longing to be a father.’

      ‘No, I mean I wasn’t thinking about parenthood. I was just enjoying our relationship.’

      His gaze didn’t shift from her face. ‘And now?’

      ‘Well, I don’t think this is the most fun we’ve ever had together, if that’s what you’re asking me,’ she croaked and he rose to his feet and gave her a long, speculative look that made her stomach tumble and turn.

      ‘I never wanted to hurt you.’

      ‘Raul, don’t—’

      ‘I love being with you.’

      It was as close to a declaration of love as he’d ever come, and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. Afraid that she’d make a fool of herself, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut. ‘Getting soppy on me, Raul?’

      ‘Perhaps.’

      She gave a soft moan of agony. ‘It’s easier to deal with you when you’re angry and unreasonable. Why are you doing this to me now, when it’s too late for us?’

      ‘It isn’t too late.’

      If she’d thought she was confused before, she was doubly so now. ‘How can you claim to care about me when you hurt me?’

      ‘If I didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here now.’ He didn’t try and touch her but somehow that made his simple statement all the more compelling and she screwed her eyes tightly shut.

      ‘We make each other miserable.’

      ‘Until we married we were extremely happy together.’ His voice was tense. ‘We need to put all this behind us and move on. Concentrate on our relationship.’

      ‘I can’t just put it behind me—’

      ‘So what are you going to do?’ His voice was brutal. ‘Carry on like this? Walking under cars, winding yourself up to a state of such anxiety that you pass out?’

      Numb, she looked at him. ‘What do you want from me?’

      ‘You,’ he said simply. ‘Back in my bed where you belong.’ It was such a typically macho declaration that she closed her eyes tightly, hating herself for even considering it.

      ‘You hurt me, Raul.’

      ‘And you hurt me.’

      Accepting that as a truth, she opened her eyes. ‘You seriously expect to carry on with our marriage?’

      ‘You are getting upset again and you are very pale. Last time we talked about this you collapsed on the floor at my feet,’ he bit out. ‘So we’re going to leave the subject until you’re feeling stronger. In the meantime you’ll just have to accept the fact that we’re married and that we’re staying that way. We’re not going to talk about this again, now.’ He turned and strode towards the bedroom door. ‘Get some rest. I need to do some work.’

      Too exhausted and drained to argue with him further, Faith collapsed against the pillows, feeling as though she’d been run over all over again. Now what?

      Part of her was worried that she felt so lousy, but another part of her was far too distracted by her relationship with Raul to pay much attention to her own health.

      Why was he so determined that they should stay married when it was clear that he’d only married her because of the baby?

      What hope was there for them?

      And then she remembered just how good their relationship had been—how much she loved him.

      Just how much could a person forgive?

      Did she dare try to make their marriage work?

      If she chose that path, how much pain lay ahead of her?

      Her head full of doubts and questions, she couldn’t relax or lie still so she slid out of bed and padded on bare feet out of the bedroom and into the living room.

      Raul was sprawled on the sofa, his eyes closed. His shirt was undone at the collar, his sleeves were rolled up and dark stubble emphasised the lean, hard lines of his handsome face.

      He looked exhausted and Faith felt her heart twist. Five minutes earlier she’d wanted to slap him. Now she wanted to put her arms round him and hug him.

      Confused and infuriated with herself, she was about to turn away when his eyes opened and he saw her.

      For a moment they just stared at each other and she felt her cheeks burn as she saw the sudden flare of heat in his eyes. Every feminine part of her exploded with awareness and she knew from the sudden tension in his shoulders that he was experiencing the same powerful reaction.

      Acknowledging the strength of the force that drew them together, he gave a cynical laugh. ‘Complicated, isn’t it?’

      ‘Yes.’ It would have been foolish to pretend that she didn’t know what he was talking about. She stood for a moment, trying to catch her breath, needing to speak and not knowing how to say what needed to be said. ‘I didn’t mean to force your hand. I thought we were good together.’

      ‘We were.’

      ‘But—you never would have wanted marriage.’

      ‘No.’ His face was closed, uncommunicative and she looked at him with mounting frustration.

      ‘Why? If a relationship is good, marriage just makes it better.’

      His laugh hurt more than any harsh words. ‘And we’re a case in point, are we?’

      ‘Is there anything left between us?’

      His answer was to rise to his feet and stride across to her. Without bothering to speak, he closed his fingers around her wrist, pulled her hard against him. ‘How can you ask that, when this thing between us has been choking us since the day we met?’

      Without giving her a chance to reply, he brought his mouth down on hers.

      As kisses went, this one wasn’t gentle but she didn’t even care. It was an explosion of mutual need, an acknowledgement of the passion and chemistry that kept both of them locked together when external forces might have driven them apart.

      Excitement swamped her, her head swam with a rush of dizzying pleasure and she would have slid