In the Brazilian's Debt(32)

                She gasped as he moved his fingers—only by a fraction, but enough to make her eyes close so she could concentrate on the sensation. Her response to him had to be obvious, but she couldn’t stop herself. She didn’t want to stop herself. She didn’t want anything to get in the way of this feeling, though some sensible part of her said she would have to find an excuse to leave the party, so she’d be safe—from herself. But not yet. She didn’t want to leave the party yet.





                                      CHAPTER SEVEN

                WHEN THE BAND took a break Chico stood back and let her go. She was free to go. She always had been free to go. It wasn’t Chico’s way to rule. He coaxed... He trained... He seduced...

                How she longed to be seduced.

                Everyone applauded the band. This was her moment to leave—

                Chico thought so too. Taking hold of her wrist, he led her away from the dance floor. His touch was light—seductively light. They’d danced, and that was it, she told herself sensibly. Chico had done his duty by her. He’d danced with the captain of the opposing team, and now they would part. Good. That was how it should be. That was the sensible thing to do. This was what she wanted, she reasoned as he drew her on. This was safe—

                Safe?

                Chico was steering her across the yard towards the ranch house, leaving the exuberance of the party behind them. He probably wanted to talk, she reasoned. They had said they would talk. There were so many gaps to fill in. They must be heading for his office.

                No. They had walked straight the past the stable block where Chico’s business office was located, and were walking on towards the big house. Suddenly this was all very real, and immediate. Did he think they were going to sleep with each other when they had resolved nothing from the past?

                ‘We were going to talk,’ she reminded him, hanging back. Chico had no idea that the estate he had loved was crumbling, or that her father was in a home for recovering alcoholics, and that no one even knew where her mother might turn up next. So much had happened over the past twelve years.

                One look at Chico’s closed face and nerves raced in, making her babble. ‘Once I’ve mastered your training methods, I’ll start small—’

                ‘Lizzie.’ Dipping his head, Chico stared her in the eyes. ‘Now is not the time. And even if it were the right time to talk about this, the first thing you should learn about business is to guard your feelings.’

                ‘If ever I do have feelings, I’ll be sure to guard them,’ she said, stung.

                ‘And your plans too,’ Chico murmured in the same measured tone.

                ‘Like you guarded your plans before leaving Rottingdean without saying a word to anyone?’ Her accusation hung in the air between them, ugly, and out there now.

                Chico’s expression darkened. ‘I had to leave.’

                ‘Because of my mother?’

                He looked at her as if she were mad. ‘Your mother?’ His voice was full of all the contempt he could muster. ‘Dios! No! I stayed as far away from Serena as I could.’ Which hadn’t stopped them falsely accusing him of sleeping with her mother, and worse.

                ‘Why, then?’ Years of bewilderment filled her and coloured her voice, and when Chico wouldn’t answer she made a sound of scornful resignation and turned to go.