‘Stop it.’
‘Is that what you really want me to do?’ he said, very softly. The night suddenly seemed very still. Darkness was wrapped around them, enclosing them in a silky universe all their own. Conor’s smile faded as their eyes met. His gaze drifted to her lips and linge
red there for the space of a heartbeat. ‘Me encantan tu boca,’ he murmured.
I love your mouth, he’d said. The words were simple and not terribly original. Why, then, did she feel so breathless? Why was she suddenly aware of the feel of his arms around her, the quick, accelerated beat of his heart beneath her hands?
‘You’re beautiful, querida,’ he said huskily. ‘Very beautiful.’
He bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers. The touch of his lips was as soft as the night, but she felt its heat burn through her flesh. With the fear and desperation of a rabbit escaping a fox, she wrenched free of his embrace and searched for the right words to wound him.
‘What are you trying to do, Conor? Seduce me—or swindle me out of my rightful claim to this ranch?’
But she hadn’t wounded him. He only laughed softly and tilted her chin up with his finger.
‘That depends on how well you perform once you’re in my bed.’
Arden stiffened. ‘You don’t listen very well. I told you, the more you insult me, the more determined I’m going to be.’
‘You can be as determined as you like.’ He’d stopped smiling, and the easy playfulness was gone from his voice. His eyes, and his words, were hard. ‘But you’re never going to get this ranch.’
‘Has it ever occurred to you that I might not want it?’
‘Of course it has,’ he said. ‘Just as it’s also occurred to me that the moon might really be made of green cheese.’
Arden reached down and grabbed hold of her suitcase. ‘It would be nice if it were,’ she said, ‘because then a rat like you could look at the sky each night and know you had as much chance of biting into that cheese as you have of getting this ranch!’
Turning away, she pounded her fist against the door until a servant came flying down the hall to open it and then she stalked inside to the stairs and carried her bag the entire flight, down the hall, and into her room. Once safely inside, she slammed the door and dropped the suitcase to the floor.
She didn’t want El Corazon, by Godl
But she was damned if she was going to let Conor Martinez steal it from her!
She slept soundly but not well. At dawn, when the crowing of a rooster somewhere on the finca awakened her, she felt bleary-eyed and almost achy with fatigue. She lay still, fighting against the sudden desire to repack her things and flee. Why should she run? she asked herself sternly. She had an absolute right to be here. It was Conor who was the intruder, not she, Conor who ought properly to move out...
...Conor, who never ceased to confuse her. Arden shook her head as she pushed aside the blanket. He had a strange ability to jumble her thought processes whenever he was around.
No, she thought as she dressed in jeans and a cotton T-shirt, that wasn’t quite accurate. He didn’t confuse her so much as he made her feel unsettled, as if his very presence somehow tilted the horizon just enough to make her usually familiar world become out of kilter.
Well, she wasn’t going to have any such problem today, she thought as she buckled on a small waist pack. With luck, she’d never even set eyes on him until tonight. It was just past six-thirty, surely far too early for him to be up and about. There was plenty of time to make a stop in the kitchen to pick up something light for lunch as well as to get a cup of the dark, rich coffee Inez would have just finished brewing without having to worry about running into Conor.
Arden smiled grimly. By the time he began his day, she’d be miles away.
Inez greeted her with a broad smile. ‘Buenos dias,’ she said, then added, in rapid Spanish, that she was delighted to see that the señorita had returned to El Corazon.
Well, Arden thought with a little smile, at least someone was pleased to have her here. She drank half a cup of coffee, then tucked some fruit and biscuits into her waist pack. At the last minute, she stopped and scooped a handful of sugar cubes from the bowl on the table.
The morning was soft and perfect, as were all the mornings she’d spent at El Corazon. She paused outside the door and took a deep breath of the clean, sweet air. It was good to be back here, she thought with surprise, despite the less than pleasant circumstances. She sighed as she began plodding through the dew-wet grass. Felix had been ready for his new beginning, but was she? If only Conor...
Arden frowned. If only Conor what? She didn’t give a damn what he thought. It didn’t matter if he wanted her here or not. The finca was hers now, all of it, from the house to the rolling pastures that stretched all the way to the darkly smudged hills that defined the horizon.
A horse whinnied softly in the paddock. Arden looked to where a mare and foal stood close together, their manes tossing gently in the light morning breeze.
‘Good morning,’ she said as she walked towards them. The mare pricked her ears, then trotted forward and delicately accepted the sugar cube Arden held out on her palm. Arden smiled and stroked the velvety muzzle. ‘Will you remember me the next time we see each other?’ she whispered. She laughed when the mare snorted and bobbed her head. ‘Good girl!’ Humming softly, she swung away from the fence and set off for the stables.
Today, she was going to see the ranch Felix had left her from one end to the other, and she was going to do it on horseback. It would give her answers to some of the questions she had about the finca, questions she’d sooner die than ask of Conor. And it would keep her away from the house—and from Conor. As for tomorrow, well, she’d worry about tomorrow when she got to it.
The stable door creaked softly when she pulled it open. The sweet smell of hay and horse filled her nostrils as the door thunked shut after her.