Sarah Morgan - One Night in Buenos Aires - The Vásquez Mistress

‘You’re doing it again,’ she gasped, wishing desperately that her body wasn’t so responsive to his. ‘Stop it, Raul.’

His mouth lingered, warm and full of promise. ‘You want me to stop?’ The erotic flick of his tongue fired her blood.

‘No. Yes …’ Sinking into a trance, Faith closed her eyes. ‘I don’t know. Where did you learn to do that?’

‘I was born knowing,’ he purred softly, but the twinkle in his eyes softened the arrogance of the statement. ‘In Argentina, men know how to be men. And part of being a real man is being an incredible lover.’

‘Your ego is enormous.’

His eyes darkened wickedly. ‘That isn’t my ego, cariño

All too aware of the strength and power of his arousal, Faith dragged herself out of his arms. ‘All right, enough.’ Flustered and shivering with desire, she held up a hand like a ‘stop’ sign. ‘Just stand there and don’t move for a minute.’

His gaze was slumberous and deadly. ‘I love the fact that you’re such a sexual woman.’

Faith gritted her teeth. ‘I said enough! And no more kissing. I can’t have a conversation while you’re kissing me.’

One dark eyebrow swooped upwards in sardonic mockery. ‘Precisely.’

Confused, her entire body buzzing, Faith glared at him. ‘Do you know that you use sex to avoid every subject that is remotely difficult? You never talk about things that matter.’ Her head was still reeling from the slow, seductive touch of his mouth and for a moment she wished that he wasn’t quite so skilled in that area. If he had been less accomplished as a lover, she might have been able to concentrate on their relationship.

His beautiful eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t solve problems by committee.’

‘I’m not a committee. I’m your wife.’

‘Sí, and you knew the type of man you were marrying.’ His tone hardened slightly but his gaze was still on her mouth. ‘If you don’t want me to think about sex, don’t dress provocatively.’

‘Well, what do I wear then, Raul? Tell me, because I certainly don’t know.’ Shaken by the depth of her own response to him, Faith smoothed the dress over her hips. ‘You’re staring at me.’

‘Because I don’t understand you,’ he breathed. ‘You would prefer that I don’t find you attractive?’

‘No, of course not. I’d just like there to be more to our relationship than sex.’

His thick lashes lowered slightly as he surveyed her. ‘You don’t like the fact that I want to make love to you day and night?’

His words made her stomach tumble and she dragged her gaze away from his, her breathing shallow. ‘Of course I do. Any woman would, but—’

‘So what is the problem?’ The careless lift of his broad shoulders indicated that as far as he was concerned, there was nothing to solve.

‘I feel as though I’m banging my head against a brick wall.’

‘This is because of your accident perhaps.’

She turned to look at him, ready to thump him for that comment, and then she saw the twinkle in his eyes and realised that he was teasing her. ‘You really like to live dangerously.’

His slow smile was impossibly sexy. ‘Of course.’

She gritted her teeth. ‘I hate you, do you know that?’

‘Sí, cariño.’ Ignoring her attempts to keep at a distance, he hauled her into his arms and brought her hips in direct contact with his. ‘I know just how much you hate me. About as much as I hate you.’ Sexual tension erupted with explosive force and Faith groaned a faint protest against his seeking mouth.

‘I had a career before I met you,’ she muttered, but he smothered her words with another assault on her lips, the skilled stroke of his tongue almost unbearably exciting as he kissed her until her head spun. Finally he lifted his head slowly and the look he gave her was one of pure, undiluted masculine satisfaction.

‘I have no objection to your career. I’m very modern in my outlook.’

Faith would have laughed but she no longer had the energy. ‘Modern? You make Neolithic men look progressive. Why am I with you? I used to have a brain.’

He smiled at that. ‘You still have a brain, cariño.’

‘So why am I standing here, kissing you?’

‘Because I am the best at what I do,’ Raul drawled with a trace of humour. ‘And your brain is occupied in responding. I love your brain. Never think I don’t.’ He cupped her face possessively and looked into her eyes. ‘And now, enough. We have guests arriving.’

And that was that, Faith thought helplessly. As far as he was concerned, that was the end of yet another conversation where he’d tied her in knots and revealed absolutely nothing about himself.

‘If these negotiations really are important to you, then why are you taking me?’ She turned away from him, unsure whether she was more annoyed with herself or him. ‘I obviously just distract you.’

‘I want you to be there.’

Resigning herself to the fact that she was unlikely to be given more of an explanation than that, Faith picked up her bag that she’d dropped on the floor when he’d kissed her. ‘What role am I playing? Am I allowed to speak? Or do I pretend I’ve had a lobotomy?’

‘You’re my wife.’ Raul smiled and that smile held such charm that for a moment Faith caught her breath.

‘I hate it when you do that,’ she muttered and his smile widened as he took her hand firmly in his.

‘Do what?’

‘You know what,’ she said crossly, picking her way carefully up the path. ‘You always use that smile of yours when you’re losing an argument.’

‘Lose?’ He frowned at her. ‘What is this “lose”? It isn’t a word I know.’

‘Very funny.’ Faith pulled a face but she left her hand in his, enjoying the contact more than she was wiling to admit, even to herself. ‘Perhaps I’m going to embarrass you tonight. You know I’m not at all commercial. I don’t think I’m capable of making a good impression on a businessman.’

‘You made a good impression on me.’ Raul adjusted his long stride to match hers. ‘And I’m a businessman.’

Her heart turned over at the unexpected compliment. ‘You’re lots of different things.’

‘Desperate,’ he said dryly, his smile full of wry self-mockery as he glanced at her. ‘That’s what I am at the moment, cariño . Thanks to you.’

Awareness exploded inside her. ‘I thought we were supposed to be avoiding the topic of sex.’

‘We were.’ He let out a frustrated sigh. ‘It’s your fault.’

She tried to ignore the electrified atmosphere and changed the subject swiftly. ‘So what do you want me to do this evening, seriously?’

‘Try not to draw attention to yourself so that you don’t distract me from the business in hand. This is a particularly tricky negotiation and I need to concentrate.’ He took her hand in his and led her towards the main house just as a car purred into the courtyard.

‘It’s really that important to you? Any chance that you’ll tell me why at some point?’

He didn’t answer her question, and when she glanced towards him he was staring down the long driveway at an approaching car. Gone was the lazy, sexy smile that had made him so approachable. Now he just seemed cold and intimidating.

The car came to a halt in a cloud of dust and a man heaved himself awkwardly from the driver’s seat, a sheen of sweat visible on his brow as he negotiated the heat and the demands of his own excessive body-weight. Faith guessed him to be in his fifties but it was obvious that he was holding on to his youth with grim determination. His shirt was open at the neck and strained over his thickened waist, his thinning hair artfully arranged to conceal the onset of baldness.