Ravensdale's Defiant Captive

Sophia pursed her lips without responding.

‘Why do you call him “Se?or” instead of Julius?’ Holly asked.

‘He’s my employer.’

‘I know but you and he seem to be pretty chummy,’ Holly said. ‘How long have you worked for him?’

‘Since he moved to Argentina eight years ago.’

‘So you would’ve seen quite a few girlfriends come and go in his life, huh?’

Sophia cast her a glance. ‘Why are you so interested in his private life? Do you have designs on him?’

Holly coughed out a laugh. ‘Me? Interested in him? Are you joking? He’s the last person I would fall for. The very last.’

Sophia released a soft sigh. ‘That’s probably a good thing.’

‘Because I’m too far below his station?’

Sophia shook her head. ‘No. He wouldn’t let something like that be an issue. I think he wouldn’t fall in love too easily, that’s all.’

‘Like we have a choice in these things,’ Holly said, then quickly added, ‘not that I’m speaking from experience or anything.’

‘So you haven’t lost your heart to anyone yet?’ Sophia asked with another sideways glance.

The word yet seemed to hang in the air. It was like a gauntlet being thrown down. Fate issuing a challenge. A dare.

Holly laughed again. ‘Not yet.’ Not ever. Not going to happen.

Not in a million years.

CHAPTER EIGHT

JULIUS HADN’T PLANNED to drive home so late but his flight back to Buenos Aires from Santiago had been delayed several hours due to a storm. A solid week of work, long hours of meetings and field research had done little to quell the errant feelings he had for Holly. Feelings he hadn’t expected to feel. Didn’t want to feel. She occupied his thoughts whenever his mind drifted away from work. She filled his brain. She filled his body with forbidden desires and wicked urges. She filled his every waking moment—and even his dreams—with visions of her lithe body, her pert breasts, her cheeky smile and the way she upped her chin in a challenge or twinkled her brown eyes in a dare.

He could not remember a time when he had been more obsessed with a woman. She was as far from an ideal partner as any he could imagine. Her wilfulness, her defiance and her rebellious nature made everything that was rational, logical and intellectual inside him shrink away in abject horror. But everything that was male and primal in him wanted to possess her. He ached and pulsed to feel her body, to be surrounded by her. Every hormone in his body twanged with longing. Every nerve-ending craved the stroke or glide of her touch. He had X-rated dreams about her pouty little mouth on him, drawing on him, pleasuring...

Julius was disgusted with himself. Not just because of his uncontrollable desire for her but because he still couldn’t forgive himself for the way he had hurt her. What had he been thinking, hauling her bodily from the pool like that? There was no excuse. So what if she had goaded him? So what if she had defied him? Disobeyed him? He was an adult. He was a civilised, educated man. What had he hoped his action would achieve?

Or had he secretly—unconsciously—wanted to touch her? To hold her sexy, wet body against the throbbing heat of his...

He had wanted to kiss her so badly it had tortured him not to. Her mouth had been so close he’d felt the breeze of her sweet breath. It had taken every ounce of self-control he possessed and then some to drop his hold on her and step back. He could still feel the silk of her skin against his fingers. He could still feel the magnetic force of her body drawing his closer. It was stronger, way more powerful than anything he had ever felt before. How he had not slammed his mouth down on hers and thrust his tongue through her lush lips still surprised him.

He had been so close.

So terrifyingly, shamefully close.

Work had legitimately called him away, thankfully. He hadn’t trusted himself to be around her. He still didn’t trust himself, which was even more worrying.

But it wasn’t just the physical attraction that was so troubling to him. There were other feelings he was experiencing that were far more dangerous. Tiny sprouts of affection were popping up inside him. He actually liked her. He admired her spirit. Her edginess. Her blatant disregard for the rules. For propriety. He found himself missing her teasing playfulness. He missed her dimpled smile and the way her eyes danced with mischief.

He had no business missing her. He wasn’t supposed to get attached to her. She wasn’t his type. And he clearly wasn’t hers. She only wanted to sleep with him to prove a point. It was nothing but a game to her.