Emergency Engagement

CHAPTER FIVE

T HE SUITE TURNED out fine. Sammy stepped into a bedroom the size of a football field with an adjoining bathroom. True to his word, Rafael decamped outside, taking whatever clothes he wanted with him and telling her that there was another bathroom off the sitting area which he would be more than happy to use.

‘Where would I have stayed if this situation hadn’t arisen?’ Sammy had asked with genuine curiosity.

‘The place has six bedroom suites, and four more in an annex beyond the pool, which is actually where Clement and Victoria are staying, as well as two other couples. You would have stayed in one of the suites in the main house here, simply because access to the kitchen would have been more convenient.

‘Don’t feel you have to rush to prepare anything for breakfast, by the way. I think that would be beyond the call of duty, considering you’re supposed to actually want to lie in with me every morning rather than hurtling out of bed at six to bake bread. Might raise a few eyebrows if you really are buried in the kitchen twenty-four-seven when we should, theoretically, be enjoying some down time together—lazy mornings before the day has had time to kick off. Not my thing, but expectations might be high from our assembled guests, especially after last night’s performance.’

‘Shame. Early starts baking would have worked. My bread skills are second to none.’

‘I’m sure I’ll get to sample some of your creations at some point. Right now, though...no need to rush downstairs. I’ll stay in the suite as well, although I’ll be up and working by seven.’

Rafael lowered his eyes but he was alert to her graceful movements as she strolled towards one of the two cases she had brought, flipping it open and rifling through the contents before stepping back, folding her arms and looking at him pointedly.

‘Don’t worry, I’m on my way out.’ He yanked back from the brink his thoughts of those casual touches earlier on. ‘I think it might be a good idea if you join me for breakfast tomorrow.’

‘Why?’

‘Because for starters I’ll have to make sure evidence of my overnight stay on the sofa is well and truly out of sight. Housekeepers can sometimes have loose tongues, and there are currently four of them doing the rounds. Might be a headache if it gets out that the lovebirds aren’t sharing the bedroom. Besides, I’ll drive you into town. You’ll need to pick up provisions, and there’s an excellent food market in the centre of the capital. I made sure the basics are all in place but you might want to see what fresh produce is out there. You’ll find it all quite different from what you’re used to, I’m guessing.’

‘I’m excited to see what’s available,’ Sammy admitted. ‘I spent some time looking up what I might expect and I’ve got a couple of ideas up my sleeve.’

‘Nothing too elaborate, I hope.’

‘Why?’

‘I wouldn’t want to have to hunt you down behind a pile of recipe books...’

‘You could always avoid that by joining me behind them,’ Sammy said sweetly, but then reddened when his eyebrows shot up at the unintended innuendo behind her perfectly innocent, perfectly sarcastic remark. ‘What I meant was, I expect there’s no chance of that when you’ve probably never cooked a home-made meal in your life.’

‘Tut-tut. That’s what I’d call a sweeping generalisation.’ He grinned. ‘You’d be surprised how many I’ve cooked, actually, but that’s a conversation for another day. For the moment, time for us both to retire to our respective sleeping quarters. And Sammy?’

‘Yes?’

‘I just want to make sure that you’re entirely comfortable with what we’re doing.’

‘In what way?’

‘A fake relationship. It comes with certain strings...’

‘Strings?’

‘Being touched...it’s expected. Were you uncomfortable with that earlier?’

His voice swirled round her like honey and she felt herself begin to burn from the inside out. When she thought of the heavy warmth of his arm draped over her...and, worse, the feel of his cool lips on hers...her pulse went into overdrive and she wanted to pass out. She didn’t have his level of experience, which was something she hadn’t taken into account.

Mouth dry, she managed to croak, ‘No. Why should I?’

‘Good. Just wanted to ask, but actually, I didn’t think you were.’

‘How so?’

‘If you were, let’s just say you wouldn’t have got into the rhythm so effortlessly.’

‘Yes...yes, I did do that. Get into the rhythm...effortlessly.’

‘You certainly did.’ His voice was approving. ‘No one could have doubted our relationship when you slipped two of your fingers under the waistband of my trousers.’ He grinned. ‘Even I was a little shocked at just how much we were in love at that point.’

‘Like I said, all part of the deal we made. You can rest assured that I’m fine with what has to be done. It’s for an audience and, like you say, that audience isn’t going to be watching twenty-four-seven.’

‘Ample time to recharge your batteries in between sets,’ he murmured with amusement.

He was so cool about it, so matter of fact. He’d touched her and she’d gone up in flames. She’d touched him and he’d been startled at her audacity. She wondered whether he thought that, in the back of beyond, all she got up to were barn dances, holding hands, and kissing under the mistletoe at Christmas.

‘Ample time,’ she agreed crisply. ‘And now, if you don’t mind...? I’d really like to get some sleep.’

Sammy tried to kill all wayward thoughts, but her sleep was broken by them nonetheless. She awoke early the following morning to find that she was still thinking about him and the effect he had had on her.

She’d had a crush on him a million years ago. Was there a reluctant attraction still there? Some kind of hangover from back in the day when she had looked at him with her adolescent crush carefully hidden?

Beyond that, was there something about him, something compelling, that she still found vaguely irresistible? She’d made it her mission to be strong and independent—to turn her back on the path her mother had taken, when she’d collapsed after her husband had died and then had foolishly and weakly turned to a guy for support when she should have looked inwards for her own inner strength.

She’d carved her own niche, relied on her own resilience, and had always assumed that a guy would come in due course—someone decent and reliable who shared her dreams and would never let her down. Out there, there was paragon of virtue waiting for her.

So was she angry with herself because an attraction that belonged in the past had decided to resurface? Because she should feel nothing for a guy who was literally draped in red flags? And yet she did. It felt pathetic to tingle like a teenager when he’d touched her for no better reason than a performance.

When she looked at the Amazonian blonde, she could see the sort of woman he was attracted to. He was indifferent to her but it seemed she wasn’t indifferent to him . She would have to start blotting out whatever foolish recollection of a crush had come along to ambush her common sense. She would have to match adult behaviour with adult behaviour.

She had a shower, dressed quickly in casual clothes and tentatively opened the bedroom door to see what awaited her outside. It was a little after seven and Rafael was at a desk by the window in front of his computer, working.

Every item of whatever he had used on the bed had been neatly tidied away and was folded on the coffee table in front of the television. Cushions were back in place. No one would guess that they had spent the night apart.

‘I never saw you as a neat freak, Rafael.’ She glanced at the folded clothes and then looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

‘Isn’t it great that you’re discovering exciting, new stuff about the guy you’re in love with?’

‘Oh, yes, I can barely contain my excitement.’

‘How did you sleep?’

‘Terrific. Great bed; very comfortable. And you?’

‘As well as can be expected on a sofa. Coffee?’

Rafael sat back and stretched, flexing his muscles, before standing up and strolling towards a coffee machine on a gleaming walnut sideboard which she only now noticed. The doors had been flung open to allow the balmy tropical air inside and, through them, she could glimpse a vista that could have been lifted straight from a magazine.

There was a distant view of bright-blue ocean, a stretch of greenery broken by swaying coconut trees—the very ones that surrounded the infinity pool—and bushes and foliage bursting with the bright colours of exotic flowers. All the familiar sounds were missing: the intrusive sounds of beeping horns, foot traffic outside her front door and the clatter of voices. It was peaceful and quiet, aside from birds, bees and the distant sound of a lawn mower doing something on the manicured grounds.

Determined not to let turbulent emotions get the better of her, Sammy smiled politely, nodded at his offer of coffee and strolled towards the open French doors.

He was barefoot in a loose white linen shirt and a pair of khaki shorts. He was so sinfully, spectacularly good-looking that it briefly took her breath away.

‘It’s okay to sit down, Sammy. We can go down in a while. No rush; breakfast is informal here. People grab what they want and at ten-thirty the day’s work begins. We retire to one of the sitting rooms downstairs which is equipped with a conference table and all the gizmos to make transatlantic communication a breeze. Everybody else does whatever they want, although as I said today the partners will be on a day trip out and I’ll take some time out to come with you to the market.’

‘I’ll see if I can get hold of some fresh fish and prawns. It wasn’t the original plan for today, which was chicken, but ...seafood would be nice.’

‘There’s an excellent fish market. Opens every day bar Monday.’

‘When was the last time you were here, just out of curiosity?’

‘Sorry?’

‘When were you here last? I know it’s not part of my brief to ask personal questions, but it might help if I know just a tiny bit about you, seeing as you’re the love of my life.’

Their eyes met and Sammy held his dark gaze.

Rafael hesitated. He had got her to this place, and it made sense for them to have some background information about one another, but intense privacy was so embedded in his DNA that he honestly didn’t know where to begin when it came to sharing anything about himself.

Her clear green eyes were only mildly curious.

She was so slight, and her dark hair was so short, that she should have looked boyish—but she didn’t. She was all soft femininity underneath the tough, prickly exterior, a contradiction, and all the more unsettling and fascinating for it.

He poured them both a cup of coffee and nodded to the sofa, encouraging her to sit and then sitting next to her, inclining his body to face her and extending his long, muscular legs.

‘Okay, you’re right. I suppose it makes sense for us to find out a bit more about one another. I don’t come here often, as it happens. Not as often as I’d like. Of course it gets used: my father comes on a reasonably regular basis, and brings friends sometimes. And I open it up to my employees on a regular basis—a kind of bonus if they’ve done a particularly good job. For me, though, time is money.’

‘How did you get to that place?’

‘Come again?’

‘The place where time is money. I don’t remember you being particularly impressed by money or material stuff when you were young. Old jeans...old rugby shirt... You always looked like you couldn’t care less about fancy clothes.’

‘I didn’t then,’ Rafael said gently, lowering his lashes. ‘And I still don’t, but I found that what I do care about—which is making the sort of money that gives me freedom—comes with the fancy clothes and the material stuff.’

‘It’s a tough life.’

Rafael burst out laughing and, when he looked at her, his dark eyes were warm and appreciative.

‘Never thought about making lots of money, Sammy? Buying freedom from small-town living?’

‘No,’ she said politely. ‘And frankly I’m shocked that, having met me, anyone out there is actually falling for this act of ours. Two minutes of questioning and they’d know what I thought of people who put money ahead of everything. I hope you don’t think I’m rude in saying that.’

‘Borderline rude, now that you mention it, but I’m getting used to that side of you.’ His dark eyes were amused. ‘I should point out, though, that I don’t think anyone will be asking for your definition of what you look for in a soul mate. You’re over-thinking conversations that won’t take place. Between work, being a tour guide for the other halves and you buried in the kitchen, long, meaningful conversations are going to be few and far between. If the going gets tough, I’ll rescue you.’ He paused and then, to his surprise, said, ‘Anyway, everyone cares about money.’

‘Yes, well, maybe in your world.’

‘Money is freedom. Who doesn’t want to be free?’ He reached for his phone and ordered up some breakfast, courtesy of one of the assistant chefs on call: local coconut bread with scrambled eggs and fresh juice. His eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘But, getting out of the realms of abstract thinking and returning to your original question, I’ve had the place for years. It was...’

‘It was...?’

‘A celebration of making my first million, as it happens.’ He looked at her, but her returning gaze was bland and matter of fact. She was listening, but she wasn’t hanging onto what he had to say. Something stirred inside him, something darkly tempting, a sensation that was as fleeting as quicksilver, gone before he could recognise it. Somewhere inside, a spark had been lit, and it left him with an uneasy feeling, one he dismissed as soon as it surfaced.

What was the big deal in sharing perfectly straightforward information because they happened to be in a situation that demanded it?

‘My ancestry on my father’s side harks from this island, as it happens. It was briefly colonised by the Spanish, hence the connection. My parents came here on a belated honeymoon when I was three.’ He flushed darkly because that bit had slipped out before he could edit it.

‘Okay, makes sense—I’ve read that it’s tough buying land or property here without connections. How is your dad, by the way? I remember him...a bit.’

‘Is that it? No more probing questions about my past in a quest for background information to add authenticity?’

‘I can ask some if you like.’ Sammy shrugged and then smiled. ‘I thought we’d stick to the basics.’

‘Excellent idea,’ Rafael concurred a little tetchily. ‘So, on the subject of the basics, my father is fine and living a splendid life in Valencia, which is where he comes from. After we left Yorkshire, he did a stint back in London, but then once I’d made my first million he expressed a desire to return to Spain after...after everything. It was well within my remit to give him what he wanted, so I did.’

‘He must be very proud of you,’ Sammy said thoughtfully. ‘And honestly, Rafael, there’s absolutely no need for you to come with me to get provisions. In fact, you’d be more of a hindrance than a help. I can dither a lot when it comes to buying fresh ingredients. I’ll check out the kitchen before I go, and see what I need to prep and when, and if there’s transport available...?’

‘On tap.’

‘Good.’ She smiled briskly. ‘If I’m to cook the meal I want to cook, then I’m going to have to leave very soon to go do my shopping.’

‘No time? You’re hurrying along the “getting to know me” business.’

‘You enjoy. If I see anyone downstairs, I’ll lay it on thick about the duties of a personal chef, and no time to waste. Between the roux and puff pastry, a girl could be tied up all day.’

Sammy leapt to her feet.

The market was an adventure. One of Rafael’s dedicated drivers gave her a little tour around the town, pointing out where the various beaches were, telling her that she couldn’t leave without visiting one of them. She had begun to feel two things for the first time in her life: on top of the world and in control.

They rolled down the windows and she let the breeze whip through her hair as she stared out at verdant roadside and bright-blue skies. Up ahead, telephone wires were covered in vines and ivy. The trees were bigger and lusher than any she’d ever seen before, and vegetation crowded the sides of the roads, as if in a hurry to stage a takeover. It was busy at ten in the morning with vans and scooters on the roads, and shops on the sides of the humming roads were open for business here and there with vivid fruit and vegetables spilling out from them.

They drove along the main road, zig-zagging, so that every now and then she would peer out and catch a glimpse of the ocean, which glittered a deeper blue than the sky and was as calm as a lake. Coconut trees were everywhere, springing up in unusual places, tangling with towering bamboo trees, the perfect playground for birds and butterflies.

Sammy was dropped in the square, on the fringe of the bustling market. Stepping out of the car, she took a few seconds to breathe in deeply, eyes half-closed, really loving the fragrant scent of flowers, sun and spices being sold, and enjoying the rich lilt of foreign voices that laughed and bartered.

She wasn’t the only tourist enjoying the town although, thankfully, none of them were any of the women from the villa. The last thing she needed was to see a six-foot blonde swooping down on her.

She took her time shopping and let her mind drift from the food she was going to prepare to Rafael and some of the things he had let slip that had set the cogs in her brain whirring. She had a future that now seemed secure, a very happy trade-off for a few days of inconvenience.

Then she thought of the kiss that still lingered on her lips and was uneasily aware of the truth of the saying that there was no such thing as a free lunch. Would she face consequences of this decision that she couldn’t foresee? Nope. She pushed that unease away, and was in high spirits by the time she made it back to the villa at a little after two, having grabbed something to eat at one of the local cafés.

The villa was quiet. Business was being done in one wing of the mansion and the partners were lazing on a beach somewhere, enjoying whatever five-star picnic had been prepared for them. Sammy got on with the business of preparing food with the radio on low, with the occasional sound of one of the housekeepers cleaning and a nice warm breeze rustling through the open doors.

Peace.

Sammy was most lost to the world when she was cooking. The kitchen was fragrant with the smells of herbs and spices and, before long, her bouillabaisse was done and dusted and absolutely perfect. She had got hold of three plump kingfish and was busy preparing them when she was aware of the soft pad of footsteps pausing at the door.

Victoria. She turned around with a sinking heart to see the other woman lounging against the door frame. Did the woman have nothing else to wear apart from items of clothing that could fit into matchboxes? The sarong draped loosely round her slim hips barely skimmed her thighs, and matched the pale-yellow shades of her bikini top. Her gold sandals were flat, but even so she towered over Sammy as she quietly shut the door behind her. She strolled to the centre of the kitchen before striking a dramatic pose as she half-perched on the ten-seater kitchen table. Her blonde hair was loose. It was very long, nearly to her waist, and hung attractively in damp strands over her shoulder.

‘How was the beach?’ Sammy eventually asked, because someone had to break the stretching silence, and Victoria seemed to have no interest in being the first to speak.

Sammy washed her hands and made an effort to smile, but was conscious of her food-splattered apron, lack of make-up and casual clothing that was great when behind a stove but less great when confronted by a woman whose job was to strut runways and dazzle.

‘The beach was like any other beach.’ Victoria shrugged one shoulder, but her bright-blue eyes were pinned to Sammy’s flushed face with the coldness of diamonds. ‘We really didn’t get to know one another last night, did we?’

‘It was a brief encounter,’ Sammy agreed. ‘Long-haul flying takes a toll.’

‘Do you do much of that?’

‘Very little. Is there something I can get for you? I ask because I’m in the middle of...’ She made a vague expansive gesture towards the dishes still to be prepped and smiled ruefully without bothering to try to look sincere.

‘Of course you are. A chef...fascinating. Rafael’s managed to do a good job of keeping you under wraps! The last I heard, wasn’t he dating that model who stole the Paris show a few months ago?’

‘Was he? I wouldn’t know. Not my world, I’m afraid.’

‘I know! Adorable. So...remind me how you two met?’

‘Perhaps another time, Victoria. I really would love nothing more than to sit and have a girlie chat about our relationship with you, but sadly I can’t. So, if you don’t mind...and I hate to be rude...?’

‘Rafael never talked about his past when we were together. You did know that we were once very much an item, didn’t you? Yes? So you can imagine my surprise when he produced you from the closet and told me that you were serious about one another!’

She wafted towards Sammy and stared down at her from her imposing height. Having just returned from a day at the beach, she smelled of sun and sand without looking as though either had got the better of her.

‘I’ve been naughty and done a little detective work, and, wow! Fabulous CV—and lucky you, living in that super-peaceful part of the world! Crazy that you and Rafael should end up together when he’s just completely the opposite of you! I guess meeting up again after all those years... Memories, yeah? Powerful, amazing , adorable. Your mum lives up there in Yorkshire, doesn’t she? I believe that’s in the blurb I read about you. She must be thrilled that you two are together!’

‘Over the moon. Now, please...’

‘It’s not going to last—you know that, don’t you?’

‘Because what you had with him didn’t?’ Sammy retorted through gritted teeth.

‘Because nothing lasts with Rafe on the woman front. And face it—look at the women he’s dated! If they couldn’t tame him, if I couldn’t, then do you really think you can?’

This temporarily rendered Sammy mute because she’d been thinking pretty much the same thing since she’d laid eyes on Victoria. Why would anyone seriously believe that the guy who went for statuesque blondes would ever suddenly be bowled over by a five-foot-three brunette with cropped hair? On the looks front alone, there was a glaring disparity there.

‘So...’ Victoria pouted, stepping back just as the door was pushed open behind them. ‘I’m just being kind because I care. ’

She was smiling as she turned to the kitchen door where Rafael was now standing, his posture mirroring Victoria’s of only minutes before as he lounged against the door frame, his dark eyes cold and watchful.

‘Looking for something, Victoria?’

‘A bottle of water...’

She sashayed across the tiled floor, a picture of impossible physical perfection, and paused next to Rafael just close enough and long enough for Sammy to get the picture that she was what a guy like Rafael Moreno would always and inevitably be attracted to.

‘But...’ she laughed huskily and glanced over her shoulder at Sammy ‘...then I remembered that there are bottles in the mini-fridge in the bedroom.’

Rafael watched her march past him, then looked back at Sammy. ‘What was that all about?’ He moved towards her as she was turning away and spun her gently round so that she had no option but to look at him.

‘Nothing.’

‘Sammy, I can see that you’re upset.’

‘I can handle something like that. I can handle someone like that. You try working as a sous chef! You’d soon find out that it pays to be as tough as nails.’

‘Why am I not convinced?’

‘Because...because...’

‘What did she say to you? If she’s put a foot out of place, trust me, I won’t hesitate to remind her of the mistake.’

‘You don’t need to defend me!’ But her voice was a whisper and tears weren’t too far away. Why—because she’d been taken down a peg or two? Made to see just how unsuitable she was for a guy like Rafael? Because she’d been put in her place? Pathetic . She’d surely been through enough not to let someone like Victoria get to her?

‘You’re my better half—at least for a week.’ He pulled her gently towards him and as Sammy rested her head against his chest, she could hear the crooked smile in his voice.

‘That doesn’t count.’

‘Ignore her, Sammy. You’re a million times more of a woman than she could ever be.’

Sammy tilted her head to look at him. She had to crane her neck. ‘That’s not what the mirror’s saying. Rafael, she just pointed out the obvious—why would a guy like you be attracted to someone like me? She just reminded me of how beautiful she was and how ordinary I am in comparison.’ Self-pity clogged her throat. Crazy. Stupid.

‘If you think you’re ordinary, Sammy, then maybe you and the mirror need to get to know one another better. You’re cute and feisty and sexy as hell, and truth is, I don’t think I’ve ever met any woman quite like you.’

Sammy’s mouth fell open.

Their eyes collided and in that split second she knew what Rafael was going to do. He was going to kiss her—a real kiss, with no audience in need of convincing.

Never had she wanted anything more badly in her life.

She gasped as his mouth descended, as his tongue plunged into the moistness of her mouth. She arched up to him, her body contouring his, slight and small against big and muscular.

She moaned in a hitched way as he swept her off her feet, their mouths still devouring one another’s, and rested her on the table. He supported himself, hands flattened against the smooth, cool concrete surface of the table, and she wrapped her arms around his neck and didn’t surface for air until the kiss slowed.

They were breathing heavily as they broke apart.

‘Well...’ Sammy broke the silence but then stuttered to a stop because she had no idea what to say, nor why her fingers were still sifting through his hair.

‘Well.’ Rafael smiled slowly. His hands on the table were still caging her but then he raised one to delicately trail a finger along her cheek. ‘What are we going to do about this?’

‘Nothing,’ Sammy said quickly. ‘We... I... This shouldn’t have happened. We can just forget about it and carry on as though...as though...’ She yanked her disobedient hand away and sat on it.

‘Or...?’

‘Rafael, don’t...’

‘Up to you,’ he murmured, contouring her mouth in a sinfully erotic gesture. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa until you command me to join you in bed. A gentleman couldn’t say fairer than that, could he?’

That damned smile! That unfair way he roused her, so that her nipples pinched and the wetness between her legs made her want to fidget and squirm!

She didn’t want the complication of this attraction! She appreciated that he was being a gentleman. She just wasn’t sure that a gentleman was what she wanted...