So that was it, then.
Clearly he expected her to smile and chat to his ex, while he concentrated on his business deal.
No wonder he hadn’t told her what was expected of her.
He’d obviously known that she would have been on the first plane out of Buenos Aires.
Raul strode across the courtyard, Pedro by his side, nothing in his manner betraying the slightest hint of awkwardness.
Deprived of the opportunity to claw his impossibly handsome face, Faith wanted to turn and stalk in the opposite direction, but she was unable to do that either because the other woman tightened her hold on her arm.
‘We have a word in Spanish to describe someone like him,’ Sofia murmured, her voice like rich honey. ‘Guapisimo. It means “indescribably handsome”. I haven’t been here for a while,’ she confided, as they moved onto the sunny, vine-covered terrace where several staff were poised ready to serve drinks. ‘You must show me what Raul has done. This place is the talk of the international polo-circuit.’
Faith didn’t bother replying—she was too busy planning ways to kill Raul—but first she turned some serious anger onto herself.
You fool, she chided herself. You stupid fool.
He said he wanted the marriage to work and that was all it took for you to run back to him.
He’d hurt her so, so badly but had she learned her lesson? No, she’d come back for more.
Was he being deliberately cruel? Was he reminding her once again that she’d driven him into a marriage, when in fact that wasn’t what he’d wanted?
Was he was telling her that marriage wasn’t going to stop him living his life the way he wanted to live it?
Was that what was going on here?
A wa
ve of dizziness washed over her and for a terrifying moment she thought she might faint in front of him yet again. Gritting her teeth with determination, she took several deep breaths and took a glass of champagne from one of Raul’s staff. Deciding that it would be kill or cure, she drained it in several gulps.
Dimly aware of Raul’s disapproving and slightly startled gaze, she raised the empty glass in his direction. ‘To us, darling. And to all those little things you do for me that show just how much you care.’
His eyes narrowed, but whether or not he would have responded to her subtle jibe she had no idea because Pedro dutifully lifted his glass.
‘To the pair of you. May you have a long and happy union.’
Faith was deeply regretting the fact that she’d downed the champagne. Her head was swimming again, and now she wasn’t sure of the cause.
‘So what is it that you do, Faith?’ Pedro was blunt and straightforward but Faith was spared the need to reply by his wife’s intervention.
‘She’s married to Raul,’ Sofia murmured. ‘Which means her time is totally occupied in the pursuit of looking gorgeous.’ Her gaze lingered speculatively on Faith’s newly cropped hair and Faith flushed.
‘I’m a vet. I specialise in horses. Raul has an interesting breeding programme so I chose to come here and work.’ And never left. But she would now. Any moment. She was going to walk out of the door and not look back.
As soon as she could be sure that her legs would hold her.
‘Breeding? Well if there’s anyone who could use some advice in that area, then it’s Raul.’ Sofia laughed. ‘Breeding is probably the only area of life in which he has absolutely no experience. I never could quite see him changing a nappy.’
Faith glanced at Raul and found him looking at her. ‘Faith is exceptionally talented. Especially with the animals themselves.’
Did he even realise that she was upset?
Deciding that she wasn’t going to inflate his ego still further by showing him how much his careless behaviour had upset her, Faith stood her ground.
Apparently unaware of the dangerous shift in the atmosphere, Pedro took a mouthful of his champagne. ‘One of my stallions is misbehaving—kicking out his box, biting his groom—the product of an extremely difficult early life, I wouldn’t be surprised. He’s born vicious.’
‘No horse is born vicious.’ Faith’s years of training made it impossible for her to stay silent. ‘It’s the way they’ve been treated that makes them that way. If he’s vicious then he obviously feels he needs to defend himself from something.’ Her eyes still held Raul’s. ‘All of us have the potential to be vicious if the provocation is sufficient.’