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

stood for a moment, her lip caught between her teeth, her eyes on the dress. Tormented by indecision, she stepped away from the bed and then immediately stepped back again. Then she let the dressing gown slip from her shoulders, the feminine side of her completely unable to let her ignore such a gorgeous dress.

      She was just going to try it on. Nothing more than that.

      Just for a minute.

      The silk slithered over her skin and she gave a moan of indulgence as she realised that it was a perfect fit.

      How had he guessed her size?

      Feeling as though she was living someone else’s life, Faith fastened the dress and then tried to secure the clasp of the necklace. Strong fingers covered hers and swiftly finished the job.

      Stifled by sexual awareness, she turned slowly and found herself looking into Raul’s laughing eyes.

      ‘So how is your day going?’ His fingers lingered at the base of her throat. ‘Do you feel properly thanked?’

      ‘I can’t possibly accept any of this.’

      ‘Of course you can. It is nothing.’

      To him, maybe, but she suspected that the necklace alone was worth more than she earned in a year. ‘I’m just trying it on, that’s all. And then I’m taking it straight off.’

      ‘Why would you want to do that?’

      ‘Because this is not my life.’

      He turned her gently until she was facing the mirror. ‘So who is that, if it isn’t you?’

      Faith barely recognised herself. Her hair fell past her shoulders like sleek, polished gold, the diamonds glinted against her pale skin and the dress hugged her figure. She felt like a princess. ‘Maybe I’ll wear it just for this evening.’ She almost laughed at her own weakness. ‘But then I’m giving it back.’

      Acknowledging her internal battle, Raul smiled. ‘We’ll have dinner on the terrace. The view is very pretty.’

      ‘So do you do this often?’

      He dismissed the staff with a discreet movement of his head and reached over to pour her another glass of wine. ‘Eat dinner? Yes. All the time.’

      ‘No, I mean—’ She glanced down at herself. ‘Play the part of the fairy godmother.’

      ‘It’s fun buying gifts for a woman who appreciates them.’ He watched her across the table. ‘You’re not eating. Aren’t you hungry?’

      Her stomach was churning so badly that she just couldn’t touch the food. ‘No. No, I’m not. Sorry. It looks really delicious but—’

      He gave a slow smile. ‘You don’t need to apologise for the fact that I’m putting you off your food. I take it as a compliment.’

      ‘You’re very sure of yourself.’

      ‘And you’re very nervous, and I can’t understand why. Don’t they have men in England?’

      Not men like him. ‘I’ve been too busy working to notice men,’ she said lightly and his eyes narrowed.

      ‘You are very dedicated to your work. Why did you choose to become a vet?’

      ‘I always wanted to. My father was a vet and I grew up helping alongside him. Even when I was small, he’d involve me in some way and he always encouraged me.’

      ‘He is proud of you, I’m sure.’

      Faith hesitated. ‘He and my mother died two years ago,’ she said quietly. ‘That’s one of the reasons I came to Argentina. I missed them so much and I knew I needed to do something different. I thought combining travel with work might be the distraction I needed.’

      ‘What about marriage and babies?’ His tone was casual but when she looked at him his gaze was sharp and incisive as if the answer to that question mattered to him. ‘When women think about the future it almost always contains a wedding ring.’

      ‘That’s a typically Argentine-male comment,’ she teased, giving up on her food and putting her fork down. ‘Be honest—you don’t think a woman can do anything except stay at home and breed, do you?’

      ‘It’s what most women want. Don’t you?’

      ‘No. Not right now. In the future? Who knows?’ She glanced towards the stillness of the lake. ‘The future feels miles away when you’re out here. I’m too young to even think about that. I have my whole career ahead of me. In another ten years or so, maybe.’ She shrugged. ‘It just isn’t what I want. I love my job.’ She watched the sunset, admiring the shimmering red glow that was reflected in the still water of the lake. ‘What about you? No wife? No babies?’

      Something flickered in his dark gaze. ‘Absolutely not.’

      ‘You mean, you don’t want it now.’

      His long strong fingers tightened ruthlessly round the wine glass. ‘I don’t want it ever. Remember that, Faith.’ There was a steeliness in his voice that made her look at him more closely but his handsome face revealed nothing.

      She frowned, sensing undertones that she didn’t understand and feeling puzzled by them. ‘Why would I need to remember it?’

      ‘It’s just something that I like to make clear,’ he said softly, ‘early in a relationship.’

      Heat rushed through her body. ‘Are we having a relationship?’

      ‘I don’t know,’ he replied softly, his dark eyes fixed on hers. ‘Are we?’

      CHAPTER THREE

       Ten months later

      ‘SHE just stepped in front of the taxi without looking. According to a man who witnessed the accident, she’s lucky to be alive.’

       Lucky?

      Lying in the hospital bed, listening to those words, Faith decided that it was better to keep her eyes closed. She didn’t feel lucky.

      ‘Any news on next of kin?’ The doctor spoke again and Faith felt the dull pain inside her intensify to serious agony.

      No next of kin.

      She’d lost everything and it was hard to know whether her injuries were more severe on the outside or the inside.

      ‘None. She had no identification on her when she was brought in—they assume someone must have stolen her bag. Her dress was expensive, though,’ the nurse murmured enviously. ‘Some flashy designer label I couldn’t afford in a month of Sundays. Take it from me, she’s either got a good job or a very rich and generous boyfriend.’

      ‘Well, we can’t discharge her until we know she has a home to go to. It’s very inconvenient because she’s blocking a bed.’ The doctor sounded impatient. ‘Someone should have missed her by now.’

      Only if someone cared, Faith thought bleakly. In her case, no one did.

      ‘Faith? Are you awake?’

      Resigning herself to the fact that they wouldn’t go away until she’d spoken, Faith reluctantly opened her eyes and the doctor gave a wintry smile.

      ‘How are we today?’ He spoke in the faintly patronising tone that he obviously reserved for patients.

      ‘I’m fine.’ No point in telling the truth. ‘Much better.’

      ‘I expect you’re longing to go home.’

      Home? Where was home? For the past year it had been Argentina and she’d thought …

      Faith turned her head away, realising with a sickening lurch of horror that she was going to cry. The misery had been bubbling up inside her for days and suddenly