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

the wardrobe he’d provided for her, she’d found a simple black dress that fell from a high neckline to the floor in a single sweep of soft fabric. She had no idea if it was too dressy for the evening ahead because he hadn’t elaborated on what was expected of her. All she knew was that when she looked in the mirror, not one single part of her was on display except her arms.

      Satisfied that she’d fulfilled his request, she walked into the living room on shaking legs. She was standing by the door looking across the beach, her stomach knotted in a turmoil of anticipation when she heard him enter the room.

      Making sure that her defences were firmly in place, she took a slow breath and turned.

      As always he exuded effortless style, his trousers superbly tailored to make the most of his physique, his jacket moulded to his wide shoulders. Tall, athletic and impossibly handsome, he looked every inch the wealthy and successful tycoon and the hint of arrogance in his bearing made her smile.

      ‘I’m sure the other guy, whoever he is, will just give up on the spot when he sees you.’ Her eyes slid over him. ‘You look scary and intimidating when you dress for business, do you know that?’

      ‘Appearance matters.’

      ‘Spoken like a true Argentine male.’

      His response to her light teasing was a careless shrug. ‘I am an Argentine male, cariño. I have never denied that.’

      But although she knew he was capable of using his looks when it suited him, she also knew that his success was due to his drive, energy and phenomenal intellect. Raul Vásquez was super-bright. His brain worked at twice the speed of most people’s and he used his skills in that area to ruthless advantage, out-manoeuvering, out-negotiating.

      He ran his eyes over her in silence and his eyes darkened. ‘I told you not to wear anything provocative.’

      Having been sure that her dress was perfect, Faith raised her eyebrows. ‘This isn’t provocative.’

      ‘If you think that, then clearly you dressed without the aid of a mirror.’

      Confused and exasperated, she glanced down at herself. ‘You said no legs and no cleavage.’

      ‘Your arms are showing.’

      She lifted her head and looked at him. ‘My arms?’

      ‘Bare flesh, cariño,’ he said huskily, a cool challenge in his eyes. ‘If I see your arms, I can clearly imagine the rest of you. And if I’m imagining the rest of you, I’m not keeping my mind on business.’

      Her heart had been behaving itself when he’d first walked into the room but suddenly it was bumping frantically against her chest. ‘You’re very basic.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘So don’t take me with you. If I’m a distraction, then leave me here.’

      He gave a faint smile. ‘One of the benefits of having a wife,’ he drawled, ‘is being able to present her when the occasion demands it.’

      ‘And does it?’

      ‘This evening? Yes, it so happens that it does. Fetch a wrap,’ he commanded, dragging his burning gaze from her body. ‘And keep it on.’

      ‘Perhaps you’d rather I wore a long coat?’ Faith suggested acidly, using direct challenge as a method of disguising how deeply his words had affected her. He wanted her with him. Surely that was a positive sign?

      He surprised her with a smile that was achingly sexy. ‘Good idea. Coat and no dress. Just underwear.’ His voice was deep and impossibly male. ‘Later on I undo the coat and take you. And yes, this time you will have no excuse to stop.’

      The vivid image his words created sent a burst of excitement through her stomach and it took her a moment to catch her breath. Trying desperately to conceal her reaction, Faith gritted her teeth. ‘You’re sex-mad, do you know that?’

       ‘Gracias.’

      She looked at him in exasperation. ‘I didn’t intend it as a compliment.’ He was impossibly, arrogantly attractive and he shrugged his shoulders in a careless dismissal of her observation.

      ‘Liking sex is a healthy and natural drive for a man. What’s wrong with that?’

      Wishing she’d never pursued this particular line of conversation, Faith drew in a long breath. ‘Nothing. It’s just—there are other things apart from sex. We could have a conversation.’

      ‘Sí.’ His eyes mocked her gently. ‘Talking can be very intimate, I agree. Before and after sex.’

      Now he was teasing her and the fact that he could succeed in making her hot and bothered even though she knew what he was doing, really irritated her. ‘Talking isn’t part of sex.’

      ‘What do you think this is, if it isn’t foreplay?’ He murmured the words softly, his voice so sexy that she felt her limbs weaken. ‘We are talking, yes, but we are both thinking about sex—’

      ‘Raul, please don’t do this.’ She couldn’t think clearly, not with his dark eyes suddenly alight with dangerous promise and his powerful body so achingly close.

      ‘We both know what is coming later,’ he purred. ‘Each of us is thinking “how will it be?” and “can I wait that long?”’ His normally fluent English seemed considerably less fluent than usual but there was no mistaking his meaning and his words were such an accurate assessment of her thoughts that she stilled, a bloom of colour touching her pale cheeks.

      ‘That’s not what I’m thinking,’ she croaked and he gave a faint smile.

      ‘Liar.’

      She dragged her eyes from his. Only when she wasn’t looking at him was there a chance that her brain would work. ‘For a man with legendary intelligence, your goals are very shallow.’

      ‘Would you be flattered if I climbed into bed with you and reached for a book?’ He curved his hand around her waist, and she felt the instant response of her body.

      ‘Do you ever think of anything other than sex?’

      ‘Sí—sometimes I think of business.’ He leaned forward and kissed her mouth, the hot slide of his tongue deliberately erotic. ‘And now you need to stop distracting me or I am never going to get through the evening.’

      ‘It isn’t me, it’s you—you started this.’ But she was starting to feel the strain and he must have noticed because he slid his fingers under her chin and lifted her face to his.

      ‘You’re pale.’

      She gave a careless shrug, trying not to betray everything that he made her feel. ‘Jet lag. I’m tired.’

      ‘No, it isn’t that. I’ve seen you with more colour in your cheeks when you’ve been up all night with one of the horses.’ He studied her closely, his scrutiny more than a little disturbing. ‘Are you dizzy? Do you need a doctor?’

      ‘No.’ She didn’t confess that she was just as wound up as he was. Every nerve ending in her body was reminding her that he was close by.

      He watched her for a moment, and then increased the pressure of his hand and urged her towards the door. ‘If this evening is too much for you, tell me and you can go back to bed.’ He flashed her a confident, self-satisfied smile. ‘You see how thoughtful and caring I can be?’

      ‘Would that be an empty bed, or a bed with you in it?’

      ‘We both know you would be mortally offended if I wasn’t in it, cariño,’ he purred, amusement in his eyes as he pulled her against him and stole a swift kiss from her parted lips. ‘Then you would be accusing me of not finding you attractive, no?’

      Tied into knots by his kiss, his smile and his words, she couldn’t even respond.