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

‘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?’

‘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 it felt almost too enormous to hold back.

With a huge effort of will, she tried to focus her mind on something neutral. She wasn’t going to think about Argentina, she wasn’t going to think about the fact that she didn’t have a job or a home any more, but most of all she wasn’t going to think about …

She gave a tortured groan and curled into a foetal position, her thoughts so agonising that she just wanted to remove them from her head.

‘Are you in pain?’ The doctor leaned towards her, frowning. ‘I can give you something for it.’

Not for this type of pain . Faith squeezed her eyes tightly shut. ‘It’s all a hideous mess.’

‘Your head? It’s nothing that time won’t heal. Your hair will cover the scar.’

‘Not my head,’ Faith muttered. ‘My life.’

‘She’s obviously worrying about her head—how’s the wound, nurse? Everything healing?’

Realising that no one was remotely interested in how she really felt, Faith kept her eyes closed, wishing they’d go away and leave her alone.

‘Last time I saw it everything was healing beautifully,’ the nurse said briskly. ‘It will be a very neat scar.’

On the outside, maybe, Faith thought to herself. But on the inside it was a deep, ugly gash that would never heal.

Clearly oblivious to the true extent of his patient’s trauma, the doctor gave a nod of approval. ‘You’ve made a remarkable recovery considering the condition you were in two weeks ago. We need to start talking about discharging you.’ He cleared his throat and glanced at the chart again. ‘You need to go home to family or friends. You can’t be on your own at the moment.’