The Spaniard's Revenge. Susan Stephens

much else happening out here apart from his medical project. But if you don’t know him yet,’ she said, without giving Sophie a chance to butt in, ‘you soon will. That’s his truck down there. And this is as far as I go.’

      Sophie instinctively braced her feet again as the small plane plummeted down on a trajectory that had the ground screaming up at a furious rate to meet them.

      ‘Damn!’ Evie exclaimed as she levelled out for landing. ‘One of these days I’ll get that monument to male chauvinism to jump out of the way—or maybe even notice me. But not today,’ she fumed, ramming on the brakes after touchdown.

      Making a tight turn, she accelerated down the narrow, bumpy airstrip to where Sophie could see a rangy figure, casually dressed, lounging back against the side of a dusty brown pick-up truck.

      Extending her hand as they stopped, Evie said, ‘I take it they’ve equipped you with a radio. If that sexist brute gets too much for you and you need an out, just call me, OK?’

      ‘I can handle Xavier Martinez,’ Sophie said confidently, returning the firm handshake. ‘We’ve known each other for years.’

      ‘You obviously haven’t met him lately.’

      ‘No,’ Sophie admitted. After the rumours she’d heard she couldn’t resist probing just a little. ‘When I did know him he was quite a charmer…’

      ‘Charmer?’ Evie demanded incredulously. ‘People change. I give you a week,’ she added, drawing to a halt within spitting distance of Sophie’s new boss.

      And then the pilot’s door flew open and Xavier was right there, ducking his head inside the confined space, baiting Evie with a dark, searing glance. The heat flew in from outside the aircraft, enveloping them in a warm cloud of faintly spicy air, and the temperature inside the small cabin went soaring up.

      ‘Women drivers!’ he challenged in a low, husky voice.

      That voice… How could she have forgotten that voice? Sophie wondered, as vibrations rippled up and down her spine. That lust-inducing Latin growl of censure and testosterone that had every woman within earshot figuratively licking her lips…except this woman, Sophie asserted, feeling her defence shields snap into place.

      ‘Is it my fault you like to litter up the place?’ Evie retorted smartly. ‘Now clear off my runway, Don Juan. The light’s not going to hold up for much longer, and I need to get away.’

      ‘What about your passenger?’ he cut in, straightening up so that Sophie’s view out of the door was suddenly obstructed by a spread of rock-hard chest, clothed in a rugged, chequered shirt open at the neck to reveal a scoop of black cotton.

      ‘Dr Sophie Ford, safely delivered. Would you care to sign the manifest—’

      ‘What the hell?’ He ducked in again and peered across. ‘Is this some sort of a joke?’

      A giant hand seemed to seize hold of Xavier’s guts and wrench them out where his back used to be. A red mist descended over his eyes as he tried to control the emotion clawing at his senses. It was so real, so tangible, he tried clearing it from his eyes with the knuckles of one hand. If there was anything on this earth he never wanted to see, or hear from, again, it was a member of the Ford family. Every one of the promises he had made to himself back in Lima to improve his manner evaporated as he stormed round the front of the aircraft.

      His angry footsteps accelerated Sophie’s efforts to release her seat belt.

      ‘So, it is you,’ he growled, flinging her door as wide as it would go.

      ‘Xavier. You must have known,’ Sophie insisted calmly, gathering up her wits along with her gear. She had no intention of allowing herself to be drawn into a confrontation with the navy-blue lasers currently trained on her face. And just when had his hair darkened to sepia and mutated into aggressive spikes that emphasized his incredible bone structure, instead of conforming slavishly to the longer, sleeker style that started a whole new fashion amongst his wealthy set years back? Just when had cool become hot?

      ‘How do you work that out?’ he demanded curtly, stabbing into her memories.

      ‘Henry wired ahead—’

      ‘Henry—’ Xavier’s mimicry stopped just the polite side of parody ‘—hasn’t a clue what’s going on out here. He can’t get hold of me by radio, fax, or pigeon post when I’m in the high country. He should know that by now. He should make it his business to know,’ he added firmly, his voice rising when Sophie started to interrupt. ‘He should also know I don’t carry passengers.’

      ‘Passengers! I’m here to do a job,’ Sophie retorted firmly.

      ‘Well, there aren’t any cushy clinics out here for you to waft around.’

      Sophie bit her tongue. She wouldn’t take the bait and get into an argument with him. Five minutes into their meeting, she already knew the only way to work with Xavier would be to keep everything impersonal—emotion-free. Once aroused, he was just the type of full-blooded male who provoked emotions she chose not to examine too closely. But she could see why he would be shocked to see her. It made her go a little way to accepting his behaviour. If there had been time she would have warned him—given him time to prepare. It had to pain him to be confronted with a face from the past, and one from a family he had every reason to despise. But the Xavier she had known years back would never have behaved like this—and his assumption that she wouldn’t be capable of pulling her weight was inexcusable.

      As she went to climb out he slammed one hard, unyielding fist against the door, stopping her.

      ‘Get out of my way!’ Sophie warned, levelling a red-hot glare into his eyes as she heaved against the door.

      Evie’s low whistle forced a brief pause between them.

      ‘I’d love to stick around to see how this thing works out between you two, but sadly—’ she shot a glance through the windscreen ‘—the light’s failing and time’s pressing on. I gotta go.’

      ‘Fine,’ Sophie said pleasantly, dumping her rucksack on the ground. ‘Thanks for the ride.’

      ‘My pleasure.’

      ‘Now just a minute,’ Xavier insisted savagely. ‘You aren’t going anywhere, Sophie Ford. Get back in there.’

      But Sophie had already slipped under his arm, picked up her rucksack, and was powering away from the aircraft as fast as she could.

      ‘Good luck, Sophie!’ Evie shouted, leaning out of the window, as she wheeled the plane round and lined up for take-off. ‘Don’t forget what I told you. I’m only a plane ride away.’

      As the engine noise rose to a crescendo Sophie paused a moment, dropping her heavy rucksack to the ground to raise her hand. The propellers were whipping up a storm of fine dust particles from the hard-baked earth, forcing her to try and protect her eyes as she waved. ‘Thanks, Evie,’ she yelled at the top of her voice. ‘I won’t forget!’

      ‘I suppose you think that’s smart?’

      ‘What? I… Thank you,’ Sophie was forced to say with surprise, when instead of continuing to berate her, Xavier snatched up the rucksack she had been carrying.

      At least he was still a gentleman, she thought, then let out a grunt as he swung it back on to her shoulders.

      ‘It will be interesting to see how long you last,’ he called back to her as he made for the truck.

      ‘I might surprise you.’

      ‘I doubt it!’ Sophie Ford! Xavier cursed his luck. The pampered product of an overwrought mother and a father— He shook his head and made a sound of utter contempt.

      ‘Well, thank you for that,’ Sophie shouted after him, firming her lips.

      ‘Don’t thank me,’ Xavier warned as they reached his truck. ‘You’ll be begging to be sent home