CATHY WILLIAMS - The Ultimate Persuasion - A Tempestuous Temptation / The Notorious Gabriel Diaz / The Truth Behind his Touch

All her anger and frustration towards him and towards herself for reacting to him when she should be able to be cool and dismissive went into that throw, and she held her breath as the snowball arched upwards and travelled with deadly accuracy towards him, hitting him right in the middle of that broad, muscled, arrogant chest.

She didn’t know who was more surprised. Her, for having thrown it in the first place, or him for being hit for the first time in his life by a snowball. Before he could react, she turned her back and began plodding to the front door.

He deserved that, she told herself nervously. He was insulting, offensive and dismissive. He had accused her and her brother in the worst possible way of the worst possible things and had not been prepared to nurture any doubts that he might be wrong. Plus he had had the cheek to make her question herself when she hadn’t done anything wrong!

Nevertheless, she didn’t want to look back over her shoulder for fear of seeing what his reaction might be at her small act of resentful rebellion.

‘Nice shot!’ she heard him shout, at which she began to turn around when she felt the cold, wet compacted blow of his retaliation. She had launched her missile at his chest and he had done the same, and his shot was even more faultless than hers had been.

Aggie’s mouth dropped open and she looked at him incredulously as he began walking towards her.

‘Good shot. Bull’s eye.’ He grinned at her and he was transformed, the harsh, unforgiving lines of his face replaced by a sex appeal that was so powerful that it almost knocked her sideways. The breath caught in her throat and she found that she was staring up at him while her thoughts tumbled around as though they had been tossed into a spin drier turned to full speed.

‘You too,’ was all she could think of saying. ‘Where did you learn to throw a snowball?’

‘Boarding school. Captain of the cricket team. I was their fast bowler.’ He rang the doorbell but he didn’t take his eyes from her face. ‘Did you think that I was so pampered that I wouldn’t have been able to retaliate?’ he taunted softly.

‘Yes.’ Her mouth felt as though it was stuffed with cotton wool. Pampered? Yes, of course he was…and yet a less pampered man it would have been hard to find. How did that make sense?

‘Where did you learn to throw a shot like that? You hit me from thirty metres away. Through thick snow and poor visibility.’

Aggie blinked in an attempt to gather her scattered wits, but she still heard herself say, with complete honesty, ‘We grew up with snow in winter. We learned to build snowmen and have snowball fights and there were always lots of kids around because we were raised in a children’s home.’

Deafening silence greeted this remark. She hadn’t planned on saying that, but out it had come, and she could have kicked herself. Thankfully she was spared the agony of his contempt by the door being pulled open and they were ushered inside by a short, jolly woman in her sixties who beamed at them as though they were much expected long-lost friends, even though it was nearly ten and she had probably been sound asleep.

Of course there was room for them! Business was never good in winter…just the one room let to a long-standing resident who worked nearby during the week…not that there was any likelihood that he would be leaving for his home in Yorkshire at the weekend…not in this snow…had they seen anything like it…?

The jovial patter kept Aggie’s turbulent thoughts temporarily at bay. Regrettably, one of the en suite rooms was occupied by the long-standing resident who wouldn’t be able to return to Yorkshire at the weekend. As she looked brightly between them to see who would opt for the remaining en suite bedroom, Aggie smiled innocently at Luiz until he was forced to do the expected and concede to sharing a bathroom.

She could feel him simmering next to her as they were proudly shown the sitting room, where there was ‘a wide assortment of channels on the telly because they had recently had cable fitted’. And the small breakfast room where they could have the best breakfast in the village, and also dinner if they would like, although because of the hour she could only run to sandwiches just now…

Aggie branched off into her own, generously proportioned and charming bedroom and nodded blandly when Luiz informed her that he would see her in the sitting room in ten minutes. They both needed something to eat.

There was just time to wash her face, no time at all to unpack or have a bath and get into fresh clothes. Downstairs, Luiz was waiting for her. She heard the rumble of his voice and low laughter as he talked to the landlady. Getting closer, she could make out that he was explaining that they were on their way to visit relatives, that the snow had temporarily cut short their journey. That, yes, public transport would have been more sensible but for the fact that the trains had responded to the bad weather by going on strike. However, what a blessing in disguise, because how else would they have discovered this charming part of the world? And perhaps she could bring them a bottle of wine with their sandwiches…whatever she had to hand would do as long as it was cold…

‘So…’ Luiz drawled as soon as they had the sitting room to themselves. ‘The truth is now all coming out in the wash. Were you ever going to tell me about your background or were you intending to keep that little titbit to yourself until it no longer mattered who knew?’

‘I didn’t think it was relevant.’

‘Do me a favour, Aggie.’

‘I’m not ashamed of…’ She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. It was cosy in here and beautifully warm, with an open fire at one end. He had removed his jumper and rolled his sleeves up and her eyes strayed to his arms, sprinkled with dark hair. He had an athlete’s body and she had to curb the itch to stare at him. She didn’t know where that urge was coming from. Or had it been there from the start?

Wine was brought to them and she felt like she needed some. One really big glass to help her through this conversation…

‘You’re not ashamed of…? Concealing the truth?’

‘I didn’t think of it as concealing the truth.’

‘Well, forgive me, but it seems a glaring omission.’

‘It’s not something I talk about.’

‘Why not?’

‘Why do you think?’ She glared at him, realised that the big glass of wine had somehow disappeared in record time and didn’t refuse when her wine glass was topped up.

Luiz flushed darkly. It wouldn’t do to forget that this was not a date. He wasn’t politely delving down conversational avenues as a prelude to sex. Omissions like this mattered, given the circumstances. But those huge blue eyes staring at him with a mixture of uncertainty and accusation were getting to him.

‘You tell me.’

‘People can be judgemental,’ Aggie muttered defensively. ‘As soon as you say that you grew up in a children’s home, people switch off. You wouldn’t understand. How could you? You’ve always led the kind of life people like us dreamt about. A life of luxury, with family all around you. Even if your sisters were bossy and told you what to do when you were growing up. It’s a different world.’

‘I’m not without imagination,’ Luiz said gruffly.

‘But this is just something else that you can hold against us…just another nail in the coffin.’

Yes, it was! But he was still curious to find out about that shady background she had kept to herself. He barely noticed when a platter of sandwiches was placed in front of them, accompanied by an enormous salad, along with another bottle of excellent wine.

‘You went to a boarding school. I went to the local comprehensive where people sniggered because I was one of those kids from a children’s home. Sports days were a nightmare. Everyone else would have their family there, shouting and yelling them on. I just ran and ran and ran and pretended that there were people there cheering me on. Sometimes Gordon or Betsy—the couple who ran the home—would try and come but it was difficult. I could deal with all of that but Mark was always a lot more sensitive.’