Panicked that he would make the blatant, sexual move when she was about to engage in conversation with her mother, her lungs seized up as her gaze locked with his. She found him studying her with a relentless domination that dared her to object. She had no time to object—her mother was answering. Erin sucked in a breath and tried like hell to stay focused on the conversation that would cement her stay in Argentina. “Mom?”
“Erin, sweetheart! How’s Vegas, baby?”
“It was great.” As she gave the answer, she knew from his close proximity that Max could hear not only her end of the conversation, but her mother’s as well.
“Was? Aren’t you still there?” her mom asked.
Max pinched her nipple as if refusing to allow her to forget about him and Erin bit her lip. “No—no, I’m not.”
“You’re home then? Courtney said you’d called in a few days of vacation. Shall we go shopping today?”
“I’m not home yet.” When she said the word ‘yet,’ Max abruptly released her breast to lift her chin. With her neck angled up, his hand slid from her chin to wrap around her throat. As he stared down, his eyes became tinged with a layer of ice. She quickly backtracked on the single word that had set him off. “I mean—I’m not back. Listen, Mom, I need to tell you something. I’ve done something kind of crazy.”
There was silence for a few seconds before her mother asked soberly, “Crazy?”
Max’s hand left her throat and trailed back to her breast with utter possession—as if touching her however and wherever he wanted were his prerogative and his alone. “M--maybe not . . . crazy. Impetuous?”
“Well, please tell me that it was something fun. Did you buy those boots you’ve been wanting? Erin, did you max out your credit card?”
When her mother began rattling, Erin felt a wave of homesickness wash over her. “No boots and the credit line is still good. But I’m having—” she tried to keep her tone light, “—fun.” Sure. Fun. That was it. It was always fun to be kidnapped and transported to a foreign country and held almost entirely against your will—even if you were feeling an almost profound need to have mind-blowing sex with your captor again.
Her mother’s tone became serious. “What did you do, baby?”
Erin took a single breath and let it out. “You know Las Vegas is where crazy things happen, right?”
“Stop right there, young lady. I know we’re close, but I really don’t want to hear if you’ve had a—how do you kids say—a hook-up. That’s too much information!”
Erin let out a small, consoling laugh that she was in no way feeling. “Well, brace yourself, because what I did can’t be classified as a hook-up.”
“Spill it, Erin!”
“I met a man—”
Her mother broke in. “Well, that’s lovely—”
“Mom, please, let me finish.” Erin took a deep breath and blurted out, “We got married—and I’m in Argentina.”
On the other end of the line, dead silence met her words. “Mom?”
Suddenly the silence was broken with frantic words. “Argentina! Why Argentina? Are you safe? Where are you? Where in Argentina, exactly? What is this man’s name?”
“I’m perfectly fine, Mom. In fact—I’m thrilled.” Her eyes closed in denial on that ridiculous word, and when she opened them again, she found Max watching her with a not-so-pleasant look on his face. She rushed to continue, “I’m on his ranch south of Buenos Aires and it’s beautiful here. Max wanted me to assure you that you’re welcome anytime—we’d love for you to come visit.”
“Well, you can bet your little butt that I’m coming. Max? What’s his last name?” her mother asked tenaciously, suspiciously—as any mother would under the circumstances.
Erin closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out. “Max Villarreal.”
As if the name meant nothing to her, her mom asked, “Honey, are you sure you know what you’re doing? Marriage is a serious business. Please forgive me because I know how loveable and pretty are you—but—are you entirely certain his intentions are honorable? You come from a wealthy family and he probably knows that—are you under duress of any kind?”
She called on every ounce of her limited acting skills. “No, of course not. Mom, I promise you, Max doesn’t need our money.” Her eyes flew open and found his attention completely centered on her as she both challenged him and tried to reassure her mom, “He only wants me for me.” With those false words that even now reminded her of her hurt, Erin gave him her best dirty look in retaliation for the lie she told.
“Well, when are you coming home?” her mother asked.
“Probably not for some time, you know—we’re on our honeymoon. Maybe—maybe you should wait to come until we’ve gotten settled.” Erin thought she could bluff her way through a few phone conversations, but looking her mother in the eye? Justine would know something was wrong.