Kept at the Argentine's Command

Her heart was still galloping like a wild horse, and now it picked up pace for all the wrong reasons.

She was aware of him watching her from beneath hooded eyes…aware that he now knew a great deal more about her than he had minutes ago. More than any man knew, to her deep embarrassment. And he’d set her up. He’d done it to humiliate her.

Her hand shot out but he caught it before she found her target. ‘No slapping, mi belleza.’

Alejandro watched the struggle on her face and, as much as he welcomed the status quo between them being lodged once more in place, he knew he’d acted like a bastard.

And that was when he heard it. The rumble.

His attention moved across to the side rear-vision mirror and he saw what was coming.

Lulu wrenched her wrist out of his hold and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand to give him the message. ‘You’re never to do that again.’

‘Fine.’ He kept his eye on what was coming.

‘There’s a name for men who force themselves on unwilling women.’ She addressed him directly, unbuckling her belt.

That had his attention.

‘I didn’t use any force, querida.’ He was frowning at her. ‘You were with me the whole way. It’s called chemistry.’

‘I know what it’s called.’ She opened her door.

‘Where the hell are you going?’ he growled, not liking her spin on this.

‘Somewhere far away from you.’ Which was when she gave

a shriek and slammed the door shut again.

Around them a sea of black-faced sheep surged, like something out of a biblical plague. The car rocked slightly with the force.

‘I probably should have mentioned that,’ Alejandro drawled, winding down his window. ‘We’ve got company.’

CHAPTER FIVE

I’M GOING TO DIE.

Lulu went stiff as a board as all around her the road just seemed to fill up with sheep.

‘Welcome to Scotland,’ said Alejandro, propping one arm casually on the door, as if floating in a sea of sheep happened regularly in Argentina.

A whimper had buried itself at the base of her throat, and she just knew that if she opened her mouth it would come out and humiliate her. But, really, how much worse could it get?

She had to speak. To make something happen.

‘Drive, why don’t you?’ she hissed at him a little desperately.

‘Where?’ He gestured at the woolly tide. ‘This is Scotland, chica. Here we give way to sheep.’

Lulu didn’t know if this was true or just more of him tormenting her. She suspected a little of both.

‘Besides,’ he added, ‘the back tyre’s shot.’

Forget the tyre! She was shot. Her mouth pulsed from his kiss and her body felt oddly light, but that might be shock setting in. Because those big, woolly mammoths with their black faces were turning her tummy to cold liquid and her pulse was going so fast she thought she might pass out.

This was worse than a two-hour flight from Paris to Edinburgh, or letting a man she had only known for a few hours at most plant a kiss on her.

This was her worst nightmare.