Kitabı oku: «One Night Of Consequences Collection», sayfa 48

CHAPTER FOUR

MADDIE shook with impotent rage. ‘That’s right, Nic. I seduced my teachers and lecturers into giving me the degree. I’m that good in bed, and they’re that corrupt.’

Nic flushed. He’d never normally goad a woman like this. But no other woman pushed his buttons like this one did. The problem was that this knowledge was turning everything on its head. If she had indeed graduated with a First from Bordeaux University, it was exploding most of his firmly entrenched opinions of Maddie Vasquez.

Uncomfortable now, he asked, ‘Is that where all your money went?’

For a moment it looked as if she wouldn’t answer, and on some level Nic couldn’t blame her. But then she did. Her voice was stiff.

‘I was working on a vineyard in Bordeaux, and the owner there sponsored me through the course.’

She was avoiding his eye. Nic longed to tip her chin up so he could see her eyes but he was afraid to touch her. Afraid that after losing control as he had last night he’d lose it again and have her on her back on the ground right here under the vines.

She looked at him then, and her eyes were spitting green sparks. ‘And before you ask—no, I did not sleep with the owner to get him to sponsor me. He runs a scholarship program in tandem with the University of Bordeaux to educate his employees and I qualified for it. It’s as simple as that.’

‘Lucky you, indeed,’ Nic drawled, but desire was an insistent beat inside him, distracting him from these revelations. Maddie’s breasts pushed against the fabric of her T-shirt. He could see a sliver of pale skin at her waist, where her top had come untucked from her jeans. Her hair was in a long plait, with loose tendrils trailing over her shoulders and stuck to her hot cheeks. She was more beautiful than any woman he’d seen in a long time. If ever. Something inside his chest twisted painfully.

Last night when he’d held her against him he’d known a large part of giving in to his desire was to prove a point to himself. He’d needed to see her undone. And she had been—she’d been swaying like a drunk person after that kiss. It had taken all of his self-control to appear coherent when his own head had been scrambled to pieces and all he’d wanted was to tip her over his shoulder and carry her to his bedroom like some caveman.

And, while it had made a dark satisfaction go through him to know that she did desire him, it hadn’t been half as satisfying as he’d expected. Because he wanted more. Much more. He wanted the ultimate fulfilment of knowing this woman intimately. He wanted to finish what had started that week eight years ago.

Why was he looking as her so assessingly? Maddie didn’t like it at all—or the way he seemed perfectly comfortable in her territory.

She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I want you to leave—now. You’re not welcome here.’

His eyes narrowed on her as if he’d just thought of something. His voice was grim. ‘I want to see those letters. The ones you said were signed by me.’

Maddie hadn’t expected that. She opened and closed her mouth, and then realised that she had no reason to deny him this. And it would get him away from the vineyard. ‘Fine,’ she said stiffly. ‘They’re at the house.’

She turned and walked to the edge of the row of vines, very aware of Nic behind her. She could see Hernan in the distance, inspecting another row of vines. He made a face, but Maddie just sent him a signal that she was okay. She saw Nic’s gleaming Jeep parked alongside her battered one. Naturally he opened the passenger door of his own Jeep, and after a brief internal struggle Maddie took off her hat and got in.

Nic sent an expressive glance to her Jeep and muttered, as he turned and drove away, ‘That thing is a death trap.’

Maddie smiled sweetly at his profile. ‘Of which you must thoroughly approve.’

He sent her a dark glance, his jaw clenched. ‘I don’t wish you dead, Maddie, just gone. There’s a big difference.’ He shifted gears expertly and then asked, ‘So, how long were you in France?’

Maddie hesitated before answering, loath to reveal anything of her personal life. ‘I went there when I was twenty-one, after spending a year in London.’

Nic’s mouth tightened. ‘That would have been when I saw you in that nightclub.’

Maddie almost flinched when she thought of the disgust on his face that night, as his scathing gaze had raked her up and down before he’d turned on his heel and walked out with a bevy of beauties in his wake. She longed to tell him that she’d only been there because she’d bumped into some old friends from her English school days and they’d insisted that she go with them to celebrate the birthday of a friend.

They’d even loaned her clothes—which was why she’d been wearing a silver lamé sheath which had not left much to the imagination. She had to concede now that she didn’t seem to have much luck with clothes around Nic de Rojas.

All she said, though in a slightly defeated voice, was ‘Yes.’ And she looked out of the window, missing the quick speculative glance Nic sent her.

Nic studied her profile and had the strong suspicion that she was holding something back—but what? Evidently she’d partied hard for a year in London and then moved to France to work on a vineyard. Maybe her money had run out and she’d been forced to that decision? It didn’t quite fit, but perhaps she’d decided the bigger prize would be to come home and take over the business.

And perhaps he had underestimated her ambition. He remembered how wistful she’d been when she’d told him that she’d always wanted to work in the vineyard. He’d dismissed it eight years ago as part of her act, but had to concede now that if she had indeed completed a degree in Oenology and Viticulture then she must be more dedicated than he’d given her credit for.

Certainly she was still here and not running for the hills, as she’d pointed out. And she’d been on hands and knees in the earth just now, unafraid to get dirty. He had to admit that he was shocked at the evidence of how rundown the Vasquez estate had become. He’d seen the faint purple bruises of fatigue under Maddie’s eyes which her makeup had failed to hide completely last night. What he didn’t like was the protective feeling that had struck him when he noticed them.

They were in front of the villa now. It was crumbling, but still held the faded grandeur of its heyday. The reversal of fortune between the two estates was stark now, but Nic ruthlessly pushed down that insidiously lingering protective feeling and got out. There was no sense of triumph at all, which surprised him slightly. He waited for Maddie to lead him into the house.

‘Maria, would you mind bringing some coffee, please?’

Maddie sent up silent thanks that Maria was there to greet them. The older woman bustled off again, for all the world as if this were a usual occurrence and she still had her normal job as housekeeper and all that it entailed. It was important for Maddie not to let Nic see how bad things were. If she could maintain an impression of some kind of normality then he might not circle them like a vulture over a dead carcass. She’d given far too much away last night—in more ways than one.

Colour flared into her cheeks at the thought of that kiss, and Maddie showed Nic into the bright yet dusty study, hoping he wouldn’t notice. She went straight to her father’s ancient heavy oak desk, took out the letters and handed them to him silently, curious as to his reaction. Maria came back with the coffee and Maddie served. Nic had sat down, and was opening the letters and reading them.

Maddie sat down on the other side of the desk and only realised then how shaky her legs were. So far his face was impassive, but when he got to the last letter his nostrils flared and colour tinged his cheekbones. Maddie’s stomach tensed. She could sense his anger already.

Finally he looked at her. ‘That’s not my signature.’

She frowned. ‘It’s your name on the bottom.’

‘I know,’ he said grimly. ‘But it’s not my signature.’

Before she knew what he was doing he’d reached across for a pen and paper. He stood up slightly and scrawled his name with his left hand, swung it round to her. ‘I have a very distinctive signature because I’m left-handed.’

Maddie looked at it. It was completely different—and very much him. An arrogant scrawl. She knew deep down somewhere she didn’t want to investigate that he wasn’t lying. He was too proud, and he wouldn’t hesitate to tell her that he had sent the letters if he had. Why would he lie? He hated her and wanted to see the back of her.

She forced down a disturbing emotion and looked at him. ‘So, who sent them, then?’

‘The early ones are from my father and his solicitor. But once he died someone started faking my signature. I think I know who it is but I’ll confirm it for myself first, if you don’t mind.’

Maddie nodded.

Nic reached out to take his cup, and swallowed the dark strong coffee in one gulp. ‘I’ve taken up enough of your time.’

He stood up, and she rose to her feet as well. To her chagrin, her first response wasn’t relief that he was going.

Maddie felt seriously unsettled and more than a little vulnerable as she acknowledged that he hadn’t sent the letters. She followed him out and said carefully, ‘So this means the pressure to force me to sell up will stop?’

Nic turned at the front door and smiled down at Maddie. But any hint of friendliness was gone. It was a cold and hard smile, and reminded her succintly of who she was dealing with. She took a step back.

‘Nothing has changed really, Maddie. I still want you gone so I know we’ll never have to deal with a Vasquez again. But there are other means of persuasion than letters. Much more pleasurable means.’

Maddie cursed her gullibility, and the way her belly had quivered when he’d said pleasurable. ‘I said it once and I’ll say it again. It’ll be over my dead body, de Rojas. I’m not going anywhere.’

He shook his head. ‘And we were doing so well—on first-name terms. Face the facts, Maddie. You need a massive injection of capital to make this vineyard lucrative again, and even then it would take years of good vintages to undo the damage that’s been done. Your degree, while commendable, means nothing when you’ve got no wine or fertile vines to work with. You haven’t even got electricity.’

Maddie smiled brilliantly, hiding her panic that she’d told him so much. ‘We do have electricity, actually. I managed to pay some money into the account so we’re not totally destitute. Now, if you’re quite finished with your fact-finding mission, I’d appreciate it if you got lost.’

Maddie took great satisfaction in slamming the door in Nic’s face, and only breathed out shakily when she heard his Jeep roaring away. She leant back against the front door and blew some hair out of her face.

Just then Maria appeared from the direction of the kitchen. ‘We need more diesel for the generator. It’s just died again.’

Maddie could have laughed if she wasn’t afraid she’d start crying. She’d told a white lie about the electricity, determined not to let Nic de Rojas know she was so vulnerable. But the fact was that things were much, much worse than even he could ever know. She did need a massive injection of capital, and right now the only option open to her was to look for an investor.

She pushed herself off the front door. She knew exactly who she wouldn’t be approaching for that help. She shivered slightly when she thought that his other methods of persuasion would have a lot to do with showing her just how much she hungered for him, and in the process gain some measure of vengeance for the way she’d rejected him eight years ago. And for the affair between her mother and his father which had wreaked such havoc.

Whatever his meaning, Maddie knew that if she allowed any kind of intimacy between them he would have the power to break her in two—and she could not allow him that satisfaction.

Nic’s hands tightened on the steering wheel of his Jeep as he drove away. The knuckles showed white through his skin and he had to consciously relax. He didn’t doubt that Maddie was lying about the electricity, and he didn’t like the feeling that he was backing her into a corner where she felt she had to put up such a front.

Dammit. Nic slapped a hand on the steering wheel. It was only as he’d been walking out of her father’s study that he’d realised the magnitude of what he was doing. He was the first in his family to come to the Vasquez estate and he had done it as unthinkingly as taking two steps forward … because he’d wanted to see her.

That need had transcended the paltry excuse to return her shoes, or to question her about her degree. As soon as he’d come within feet of her he’d wanted her so badly he’d been able to taste it on his tongue. He could remember her scent, and the way she’d tasted all those years before. Despite making sure his bed was a busy place in the meantime. Even if he was blindfolded he knew with grim certainty that he could pick Maddie out in a line-up. And he hadn’t even slept with her. Yet.

Damn. He cursed her again. He’d seen the stubborness in every line of her body. He knew it well because it was deeply embedded in him too. A fierce drive to succeed and prevail.

Nic had been a sickly baby and child. His mother had suffered complications during the birth and hadn’t been able to get pregnant again. His father had gone slowly mad with grief because the entire legacy of his family’s estate rested on the shoulders of this one surviving weedy child. And, even though Nic had become strong and healthy, his father had never seemed to be able to trust in Nic’s ability completely. Nic’s mouth twisted—not even when he’d achieved the remarkable feat of becoming a Master of Wine at the age of twenty-eight, when there was only a seven per cent success rate in graduating first time around.

Nic knew now that his childhood frailty had most likely had more to do with his mother’s overprotectiveness than anything else, but from as far back as he could remember he’d known that he had to overcome the lethargy and allergies that held him back. And he had done it, slowly but surely, with single-minded determination and a deep desire to see his father look at him without that awful disappointment in his eyes.

By the time he was twelve he’d been bigger than most of the other boys in his class at school. His asthma had disappeared and his constitution had been as strong as an ox’s. The doctor who’d used to come and see him had shaken his head and said, ‘I’ve never seen anything like it in my life …’

Nic knew it was no miracle. It had been sheer determination to succeed. No one had ever known about that very dark and personal struggle to be strong and prevail. Until he’d told Maddie one day at the orchard. The words had slipped out of him before he’d even realised it, and even now he could see those huge green eyes, limpid with empathy, causing an ache in his heart.

Nic’s hands tightened on the steering wheel again, hot anger coursing through him because he’d once been so gullible. Fooled by a pretty face and a lithe young body. That feeling of kinship … had he been so desperate that he’d conjured it up? The thought had always stung him. As a consequence he’d never let any woman close again; the minute any lover tried to explore more personal avenues he cut them off.

His avowal to Maddie that he wanted to see her gone for good had far more to do with getting rid of his growing obsession with her than any need to extend the de Rojas empire. She was trouble and he knew it. He wanted her, and yet he knew he had to resist her for his own sanity. But, conversely, he knew that the only way to regain any sense of sanity was to have her on her back, beneath him, bucking against him and screaming for release.

By the time Nic got back to his own home he was seriously irritated. He decided to make the most of his mood and act on his resolve of last night to have a chat with his soon-to-be ex-solicitor about the letters. Anger whipped through him again at the thought of what he’d done in Nic’s name.

Two days later, Maddie was weary all over. She felt as if she was fighting a losing battle as she drove the Jeep home from Villarosa with a pathetic amount of groceries to feed herself, Maria and Hernan. The petrol gauge was nearly on empty.

For a brief moment she thought how easy it would be just to give in … to call Nic up and say, Fine—you’ve won. She would get enough money from the sale of the estate to keep Maria and Hernan in comfort for the rest of their lives.

Maddie saw the outline of the estate in the distance and her throat grew tight. Despite being shut out of the workings of the vineyard her whole life by her father because she was a girl, she loved it. Ever since she was tiny she’d been fascinated by the whole process. She could remember being carried on her brother’s skinny shoulders and reaching out reverently to touch the grapes, in awe of how these plump and bitter-tasting fruits could be transformed into complex and delicious wines.

Her blood sang here. She felt attuned to the earth and the seasons. Its backdrop of the magnificent snow-topped Andes was an image she’d held in her head during the long years of exile from her home. And now that she was back she wouldn’t allow Nic de Rojas to run her off again just because he wanted to extend his empire.

But she faced an uphill battle. She’d just left the bank in Villarosa, where the manager had spent half an hour pointing out how impossible it was for him even to think about a business loan in the current economic climate.

The bank had been her last option. Over the past few days she’d gone to other vintners in the area, and one by one they’d all told her they weren’t interested in investing. One of them had at least had the honesty to say, ‘We simply can’t go up against de Rojas. If he sees us investing in you it’ll be like waving a red flag. He’s too successful and we can’t afford to get drawn into your feud …’

So even without lifting a finger Maddie was damned by her poisoned association with de Rojas. For ever.

When she saw his gleaming Jeep and his tall rangy body leaning against the bonnet with arms folded as she drove up to the house, her blood boiled over. She swung out of her Jeep and took out the shopping bags, holding them in front of her like a shield.

He made a movement to help and Maddie grabbed them tighter to her. ‘I thought I told you you weren’t welcome here.’

He had the gall to smile. ‘Are you always so prickly in the evening? I must remember that for future reference. Perhaps you’re a morning person.’

Maddie sensed him following her inside. She put down the bags on the nearest table and whirled around, hands on hips. Adrenalin was washing away her recent weariness. ‘De Rojas, you’re not welcome here. In fact I’ve heard your name enough in the past few days to last me a lifetime. So please, just go.’

Maddie would have physically pushed him, but was too afraid to touch him. Too afraid of her reaction when she could already feel it building up inside her. The insatiable need to drink him in, taste him. He was smartly dressed today, in chinos and a white shirt. Every inch the relaxed, successful vintner. She’d dressed smartly too, for the bank. She’d even splashed out with her fast-dwindling money to buy something that would fit, conscious of Nic’s recent criticism.

As if reading her thoughts, he let that blue gaze drop and took in the pencil skirt, court shoes and tailored blouse. And then lazily he returned it all the way to where her hair was in a chignon.

‘I like the office look—very demure.’

Maddie’s hands became fists. She didn’t feel demure.

She felt hot. All over.

Before she could say anything else he said, ‘Apparently you’ve been looking for an investor. I can tell by your mood you’re not having much luck.’

Maddie choked back a curse and said, as calmly as she could, ‘Unsurprisingly the local wine community don’t want to upset their vastly more successful neighbour. How does it feel to know you’re the don of the area, Nic? Does it make you feel powerful to know that people are too scared to invest because they might incur your wrath? That’s hardly going to encourage healthy competition, now, is it? It’s very easy to be successful in a vacuum.’

He flushed at that. ‘Your father would be able to tell you all about that if he were still alive.’ He elaborated. ‘Your family was the first to quash any local competition, preferring to keep things simple and just between ourselves. If you’d done your research you’d know that more vintners have sprung up since the demise of your estate than ever before—and I’ve actually invested in some of them.’

Now Maddie flushed. Once again he was doing—or saying—the opposite of what she’d expected. She didn’t like the way he was constantly putting her on the back foot.

His continued coolly. ‘I came to tell you that my father’s solicitor was responsible for the letters. He was a close friend of my father for many years and, unbeknownst to me, made a promise to him on his deathbed that he would continue to wage a campaign to get your father to sell. I suspect he also had a long-standing crush on my mother, and when she committed suicide he vowed some kind of vengeance on your father for having told her of the affair.’

Maddie sat down on a chair behind her. A sense of futility washed over her. Would the tangled mess that lay between them ever stop sending out poisonous tendrils into the future?

‘Thank you for letting me know.’ She looked up at Nic and saw something suspiciously like concern on his face, but it was quickly gone so she must have imagined it.

‘I’ve also taken the liberty of paying your electricity bill for the forseeable future.’

Now Maddie sprang up, incensed. ‘What did you do that for? I told you we were fine.’

Casually Nic reached out to a nearby switch and flicked it. Nothing happened, and Maddie went puce.

Just as casually he said, ‘I knew you were lying. I’m doing it because it’s a serious health and safety issue. I can’t very well stand by and let an accident happen when I could have helped prevent it. Full power will be restored any time now.’

Feeling impotent with anger, Maddie quivered all over. She couldn’t say anything because when Hernan had gone out to get the generator going again he’d almost tripped and done himself a serious injury in the dark. Nic had her in a bind. How could she jeopardise the safety of her employees so wantonly by refusing this? And yet how could she accept?

‘Like I said, Maddie, I just want you gone. I don’t want you dead.’ He arched a brow. ‘Is it so hard to say, Thank you, Nic?’

Maddie’s voice was constricted with the feeling of impotence, but finally she got out, ‘What do you want from me?’

Nic came close to where Maddie stood and she fought not to let him see how she trembled when he got close. His eyes were all too assessing, and she could almost hear his brain whirring.

His jaw clenched, and then he said in a hard, flat voice, ‘Dinner with me tonight. At my house.’

Maddie swallowed and fought the urge to run. He wasn’t finished with pointing out how far she had to go to catch up. She longed to be able to say no, to refuse. But he had her in a corner, with no room to manoeuvre. The safety of her loyal staff was too important.

Ungraciously, she finally gritted out, ‘Fine.’

After an infinitesimal moment when the very air around them seemed to vibrate with awareness and tension, he turned and walked out, leaving Maddie feeling as limp as a dishrag. She sank back onto the chair, her mind churning painfully.

He’d just pulled the rug from under her feet by doing an amazingly generous thing—and now, by asking her for dinner, he was blurring the lines, reinforcing the fact that he threatened her on many more levels than just the professional one.

Perhaps this was Nic’s plan? To chip away at all the places where he would show up her weaknesses until he had her exactly where he wanted her. Maddie shivered when an image popped into her head of her lying back on a huge bed, with Nic looming over her like a marauding pirate. She would have to tell him tonight in no uncertain terms that she would repulse any further gesture, and set up a payment plan to pay him back for the electricity.

As if proving a point, suddenly the dark hallway was flooded with light. Maddie looked up and blinked, and then Maria rushed out from the kitchen, her eyes suspiciously bright. She came and hugged Maddie and said emotionally, ‘Oh, niña, now I know everything will be all right …’

Maddie didn’t have the heart to tell her that the sword of Damocles swung over them as much as it ever had.

‘Good evening, Señorita Vasquez. Please come in.’

Maddie swallowed her nerves and stepped onto the flag-stoned floor of Nic’s palatial hallway. Soft lights sent out a golden glow, reminding Maddie of how seductive it had been here the first time around. She tried to steel herself against it but it was hard.

She followed Geraldo through the now-empty courtyard, with its burbling fountain and flowers blooming out of pots everywhere, and into the main drawing room. He led her to a drinks cabinet and said solicitously, ‘Señor de Rojas will join you shortly. He’s been held up with a phone call. Please, can I offer you a drink?’

Maddie smiled tightly. ‘Sparkling water would be fine.’ She fully intended to keep her wits about her tonight.

Geraldo gave her the drink, and then excused himself after telling her to make herself comfortable. Maddie caught a glimpse of her reflection in a framed picture and smoothed down her skirt. It was the same one she’d been wearing earlier, but she’d teamed it with a dark grey silk top that thankfully was her own, and fitted. It was loose, with a wide neck, and she adjusted it now so that it wasn’t falling down over one shoulder. She’d dithered over her hair and finally tied it up, not wanting Nic to think for a second that she was trying to seduce him.

She wandered over to a wall that was full of framed photos. She became more and more intrigued as she inspected what was obviously a history of the de Rojas family.

‘Please forgive me for keeping you.’

Maddie’s grip tightened on her glass before she turned around. Nic was standing in the doorway dressed in black pants and a pale blue shirt, open at the neck. His thick dark blond hair shone in the dim light, and those blue eyes took her breath away even now.

Maddie suddenly felt inexplicably shy, and it unnerved her. She’d had to develop a thick skin to survive these past few years and she didn’t like this new vulnerability that Nic de Rojas seemed to bring out in her with such effortless ease. ‘It’s fine. I wasn’t waiting long.’

He came towards her then, and stopped near the photos. He gestured with his head and Maddie had to tear her eyes off him. ‘My family—all the way back to the nineteenth century, before they left Spain to come here.’

Maddie found herself smiling slightly. ‘We have a wall like this too. I always wonder why my ancestors looked so fierce in the pictures.’

‘Times were hard then … they had to fight to survive.’

Maddie snuck a glance at Nic. Something about the way he’d said that caught at her insides. At that moment she had a vivid memory of him revealing to her once how sickly he’d been as a child, and how hard he’d struggled to overcome that physical frailty. He was so virile now, so vital, that it was almost impossible to believe.