Shocked by the rush of feeling Raul's touch evoked, she worried her bottom lip with her teeth. The last thing she needed was a return to the besotted girl she had once been around him. A rather subdued Penny picked up the holdall with all the baby paraphernalia inside and followed Raul downstairs and out onto the pavement.
It was a beautiful, sunny early September day, and Penny's good humour and common sense returned when she saw Raul's sleek Jaguar parked next to Sense and Sensibility's rather beaten-up old estate car. They really had nothing in common except James. 'We'll have to take my car,' she said with a grin, 'because the baby seat is-’
'That will not be necessary. I have a baby seat in my car.' Raul looked down at her, an unreadable expression in his eyes. 'And everything else James might need.'
A trickle of sensation slithered down her spine. She didn't know why but some warning instinct in her subconscious was clamouring to be heard. Penny shook her head. She had been listening to Amy's dire warnings for far too long. 'You certainly think of everything,' she finally responded.
'Yes.'
She watched in astonishment as, without any help from her, James was safely fastened into a baby carrier suspended across the front passenger seat of the elegant car. The holdall was taken from her unresisting hand, and somehow she found herself in the back seat. A wry, self-mocking smile tilted her wide mouth. So much for her idea that Raul was trying to flirt with her. She felt like a spare wheel!
Raul manoeuvred the big car out into the mainstream of traffic with easy grace, and they glided along a country lane with Raul talking softly all the time to James.
After about fifteen minutes of being ignored Penny spoke rather loudly to the back of Raul's head. ‘I thought we could go to St Austell. There's quite a nice beach there.'
He cast a quick glance over his shoulder and, turning back to the road, said, 'Not to worry, Penny, I have it all planned. We are going to Fowey, and there I have hired a motor cruiser, so we can cruise along the coast and, hopefully, find a quiet beach for our picnic.'
She wanted to object, but, looking up, she met the lancing glitter of his gaze in the driving mirror and her heart leapt as her mind went blank.
Suddenly she was aware of the faint, familiar, teasing scent of his aftershave—very male, very arousing in the dose confines of the car. Penny gritted her teeth. What was happening to her today? She looked at the man and got an adrenalin surge that made her thoughts go haywire. It had to stop...
She shrugged her shoulders and concentrated all her attention on the passing scenery. It sounded a perfectly reasonable plan in any case, she thought as she justified her spineless acceptance of Raul's itinerary.
Five hours later, she was glad she had accepted it. Clad in a plain black Lycra swimsuit, she lay stretched out on an air-bed on the deck of the cabin cruiser. And what a cabin cruiser! she thought drowsily, her eyes closed. It was a good forty feet long and luxuriously appointed. James was down below in one of the four cabins, having his afternoon nap, and Penny had just finished a wonderful lunch.
It had been a perfect day. Raul had found a private beach and anchored; they had spent hours playing with James in the sea and sand, only returning to the boat for a late lunch.
She smiled at her earlier misgivings. Raul certainly was not trying to flirt with her—quite the reverse; he had treated her much the same as James. No sexual innuendos, no telling glances. It was her own over-active libido that was the problem, not Raul's, she thought ruefully.
'Would you like some more wine, Penny?' a deep voice drawled in her ear, and Penny's eyes flew open.
'No, no, I think I've had enough.' She tried to pull herself up into a sitting position but didn't seem to have the strength.
'Feeling sleepy?'
A near-naked Raul kneeling over her should have intimidated her, but, looking up at him through half-closed eyes, all she could think of was how gorgeous he looked—all bronzed muscle and sinew, brief black trunks cupping his masculinity. A vivid image of another time, another place—the swimming pool at the hacienda filled her mind. Their naked bodies entwined. She closed her eyes against the pain of regret for the past, for what they had once shared.
She never saw the golden shards of savage triumph in his dark eyes. She never felt his strong arms close around her and carry her down below. She wa
s asleep!
She heard the voices. It wasn't English. Spanish, maybe. She tried to open her eyes but a stabbing pain in her head put an end to the attempt; instead she groaned and rolled over. A niggling knowledge that she should be doing something hovered on the edge of her mind, but she was too tired to care and, sighing, she sank back into the arms of sleep.
The muted voices, the gentle rocking of the boat had ceased, but she was conscious of movement. Her lids felt heavy but she forced her eyes open and found herself in the very real arms of Raul. She tried to speak, but her tongue was stuck to the roof of her mouth—a mouth that was as dry as sandpaper.
There was a sinking sensation in her stomach, and for a moment she thought that she was going to be sick. Then she felt the soft mattress at her back, and she lay like a rag doll, staring up at the impassive face of the man bending over her. 'Raul.' She swallowed hard. Too much wine! Raul had carried her down to the cabin to sleep it off, she thought muzzily.
'Don't try to talk.'
'James—where...?'
'He is fine—in bed, fast sleep.'
Penny finally got her eyes to focus properly on his, and an inexplicable fear washed over her. 'Fine' he had said, but the glinting black eyes held a hard edge of cruelty that made her doubt if he was telling the truth. She looked down, and it was then she noticed that he had changed from his swimming trunks into a dark suit and white shirt. He was wearing a tie! On a boat!
She glanced quickly around the cabin. Only it wasn't the cabin. With a slowly dawning horror she recognised the room—the white walls, the crucifix on the wall above at massive antique dressing table, the huge four-poster bed. It could not be... Her aching head screamed. But it was. Raul's bedroom in the hacienda. She must be dreaming. She closed her eyes for a second and slowly opened them again. Nothing had changed...
Raul stood over her, a glass of water in his hand. 'Here, drink this; you will feel better,' he commanded and, sliding an arm under her shoulders, he hauled her up the bed and held the glass to her lips.