‘There’s one extra doctor,’ Anna revealed a little more forcefully, clearly peeved by Xavier’s rejection of her offer.
‘Well, we can certainly use all the help we can get, don’t you agree, Sophie?’ Xavier responded, turning to look at Sophie. ‘Sophie?’
But Sophie wasn’t listening. She was standing fixed to the spot, staring up the steps towards the open door.
‘Are you all right?’ Xavier murmured discreetly.
Mutely, Sophie shook her head from side to side.
‘Sophie!’ The well-bred voice was distinctive, unmistakable.
Swallowing back her surprise, Sophie pinned a smile to her face. ‘Henry. What on earth are you doing here?’
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘I’VE come to see my fiancée, of course—what else?’ Henry Whitland proclaimed as if that fact should be obvious.
Fiancée? Sophie’s mind locked in surprise. Since when? But then she noticed his words were slurring slightly. Exhausting journey, free drinks, Anna’s hospitality—there were always plenty of cold beers in the fridge. Whatever the cause, the effects were sure to have consequences, and that knowledge sent a shiver of apprehension down her spine.
Backlit in the doorway, in all his neatly pressed safari-suited perfection, Henry exceeded her worst expectations when, opening his arms wide, he exclaimed, ‘How are you, Sophie darling? Come and give me a kiss.’
Xavier answered for her. ‘She’s fine, aren’t you, Sophie? She’s doing just fine, Henry. Welcome to Peru,’ he added, leaning forward to shake hands with the older man.
‘Delighted to meet you at last, Dr Martinez Bordiu.’
‘Please,’ Xavier insisted, ‘call me Xavier.’
Xavier knew it was all bluster on Henry’s part, Sophie thought with overwhelming relief. To her eyes Xavier had never looked more handsome, or more in control. She felt her heart swell as she looked at him—the steady expression in his dark blue eyes, the firm set of his mouth, the strength of purpose in his expression.
‘Xavier,’ Henry amended, fracturing her reverie. ‘Thank you for taking such good care of my fiancée for me—my little Sophie.’
As Henry tottered towards her Sophie stiffened with embarrassment for him. His speech had degraded to a babble but, as she reached out a hand to save him from more humiliation, Xavier held her back—and, to cap it all, she had Anna’s smirk of satisfaction to contend with as the elegant Danish doctor stood on the sidelines watching the scene play out.
Ignoring Henry’s comments, Xavier continued to behave as if everything was completely normal, and Sophie began to feel reassured as he led her up the steps with an arm lodged protectively around her shoulders.
‘Sophie is already proving herself indispensable,’ he explained to Henry, unhurriedly walking her past. ‘But it hasn’t all been plain sailing, and I know she’s very tired.’
Tired? Emotionally exhausted after revealing the ugly truth about her parents’ marriage—beyond exhaustion in a physical sense. But that had been the most wonderful type of exhaustion possible—until this moment, Sophie reflected. She was acutely aware that she was still throbbing and swollen from their prolonged lovemaking, still aroused, and bearing Xavier’s potent, very masculine scent over every inch of her body.
‘Isn’t that right, Sophie?’ Xavier demanded evenly, as he guided her towards the door that led into her room. ‘Shower, and then a rest,’ he suggested pleasantly, as if he had nothing more than her physical welfare at heart.
‘Yes. That would be wonderful,’ Sophie agreed, shooting an apologetic glance over her shoulder at Henry.
Opening the door for her, Xavier gave her an encouraging little nudge but, instead of leaving her at that point, he followed her in and closed the door behind them. ‘Would you care to explain what that was about?’ he demanded in a low, hostile whisper. ‘Or shall I just work it out for myself?’
‘No,’ Sophie protested softly, sinking down on her narrow bed to get away from him. The room was small enough, but now, with Xavier inside it—Xavier in a rage, inside it, the walls closed around her, giving her no place to go, no place to think. ‘I thought I explained to you already—’
‘I remember exactly what you told me,’ he said coldly. ‘In fact, I can probably repeat what you said, word for word: “I’m not engaged to Henry. I never have been engaged to Henry.”’ Xavier stopped abruptly. All he saw through the red mist of rage was her father’s face—the same mock-innocent blue eyes gazing at him right now… And after everything Sophie had told him about her parents, the manipulative little bitch! Wasn’t this the ultimate betrayal?
Making a sound of contempt, Xavier drew himself up so that his head brushed the low ceiling. ‘Women like you disgust me,’ he said flatly. ‘I could have any number of them.’ He paused a few beats. ‘Do you think I want any of them?’ His lips turned down in a Latin show of pride. ‘And do you know why I don’t want them, Sophie?’ he continued mercilessly. ‘Because all I’d need is a heartbeat to have them—that and a hefty bank account, of course,’ he finished scathingly.
‘Now just a minute—’ Sophie exclaimed angrily, standing to confront him.
‘No!’ he flared, that one short explosion of sound driving her back down on to the bed again. ‘You wait a minute,’ he demanded passionately. ‘You wait just a minute after I leave the room,’ he informed her in a cold, steady voice, ‘and then you go and shower every trace of me off you. Then get yourself dressed and come and join us—me and your fiancé, Henry, for some polite conversation and some food. A few minutes of our time is the least we owe him after he’s travelled such a distance.’
‘So you believe Henry and not me?’ Sophie said tensely, meeting his fierce gaze head on. ‘If that’s the case, you’re not the only one who thinks they have been misled.’
Xavier made a contemptuous sound with his tongue against the roof of his mouth. ‘Don’t try and absolve yourself from this, Sophie. It’s too late.’
‘You’re right about it being too late,’ she said bluntly, ‘but, as far as absolving myself goes, there’s no need since I have done nothing wrong.’
‘Then why has Henry come all this way just to see you?’ Xavier demanded, his eyes like daggers in her heart.
‘I don’t know,’ Sophie admitted, ‘but he’s here now and when he’s sober,’ she said pointedly, ‘perhaps we should ask him.’
Xavier tensed abruptly, and Sophie could see that Henry being the worse for drink was a factor that he hadn’t taken into account.
‘I’ll leave you to get ready,’ he said coldly, ‘then I expect you to join us.’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I will,’ Sophie promised, in case he had any misconceived notion that she was going to run away.
Firming her lips, Sophie waited a long time after Xavier left before getting up from the bed. Then, quickly selecting some fresh clothes from the narrow wardrobe, she grabbed her wash-bag and headed for the shower.
‘I heard there’d been some trouble,’ Henry said uncertainly, glancing at Anna.
The source of his information, Sophie deduced, not allowing her thoughts to show on her face. They were all sitting in civilised fashion around a dining table in the clinic. Four very civilised doctors, behaving normally as far as anyone outside their tense group might suspect, but within that tense group Sophie knew the conflict was all too real, thanks to assumption, mistrust, and suspicion.
‘Trouble?’ Xavier said with interest.
‘Sophie’s midnight ramble around the countryside,’ Henry clarified, pulling his lips down in a show of wry acceptance.
‘Actually,’ Xavier said matter-of-factly, ‘Sophie saved a child’s life.’ The speed of his defence took even Xavier by surprise.
‘I see,’ Henry said. ‘Perhaps I have been too hasty in drawing my conclusions,’ he admitted, clearly flustered now. ‘But you are all right?’ he continued. ‘This isn’t proving too much for you, Sophie?’
He was sobering up fast, Sophie realised. She c
ould see he was genuinely concerned about her. ‘I’m still learning the ropes,’ she admitted, with a quick, hard glance at Xavier. But the expression in Xavier’s eyes was indecipherable. For now he appeared happy just to drink his coffee.
‘It’s everything I want, Henry,’ Sophie confessed softly. And that was the truth, she thought defiantly—personally, professionally, in every way—and if Xavier’s Spanish pride wouldn’t let him see that…
‘Well, you certainly have plenty to occupy you here,’ Henry continued, unaware of the undercurrents, ‘and, from what Anna tells me, there’s always the redoubtable Lola to keep an eye on you.’
‘Lola’s organisational skills are incredible,’ Sophie admitted frankly. ‘The way she handles the administrative work at several clinics is invaluable for the project. But I don’t need Lola, or anyone else for that matter, to keep an eye on me, Henry.’
How many more times? Sophie wondered. How was she supposed to stay on the right side of polite, when Henry seemed to think she was incapable of doing anything without supervision? But then she caught sight of the humour glinting in Xavier’s eyes as he watched her; he was enjoying this, she realised, tightening her lips in defiance. Xavier was content to let her stew in Henry’s patronising assumption that she had the stomach for adventure as long as someone else held the reins. Flaring a glance at him, she encountered something else in his glance—something unexpected. Was he over it? she wondered. Did he believe her about Henry?
‘More coffee, anyone?’ Xavier said easily, getting to his feet.
Sophie felt as if they were connected by invisible strings. Every movement he made, every flicker in his eyes, impacted on her senses, she realised, drinking in the power in his body as she tried to pick up clues—read his thoughts.
‘Anna? Henry? Coffee?’ he repeated, while Sophie could only wish their two companions would conveniently disappear so she could hear Xavier’s reassurances from his own lips.
‘Thank you, Xavier, that would be most welcome,’ Henry said. ‘Sure you won’t have another one with us, Sophie?’
‘Certain, thank you,’ Sophie said restlessly, flashing another glance at Xavier as she forced herself to be patient.