Master of El Corazon

She wanted to say something, say anything, to assert herself, but all she seemed able to do was stare at him as he walked towards her. The white duck trousers and pale blue shirt had given way to a grey wool suit, white shirt, striped silk tie, and shoes that bore the deep, dark lustre of fine leather. But there was no mistaking the hard-as-emerald glint of those eyes, the handsome face, the aggressive stride.

‘What are you doing in this house?’ he demanded.

‘I—I...’ Arden touched the tip of her tongue to her lips. ‘I work here.’

‘That’s damned well not what I mean, and you know it.’ He slammed the door after him and strode towards her, his footsteps loud as heartbeats against the tiled floor. ‘I want to know how you wormed your way into my uncle’s employ.’

Arden stared at him helplessly. The shock of seeing him, of learning his identity, was overwhelming. He was directly in front of her now, towering over her, or at least that was how it seemed, that same harsh look of accusation in his eyes as there’d been that horrible night in her hotel room.

What was the matter with her? She was letting it happen again, letting this awful man intimidate her. But he wasn’t going to get away with it this time. No, she thought, her spine stiffening, he certainly was not!

‘It must be wonderful to be you,’ she said, her voice cool and calm, in contrast to the slam of her heart against her ribs. Her chin lifted so that she was looking straight into his narrowed eyes. She forced a smile to her lips. ‘So few of us go through life, secure in the knowledge we’re always right—you’re such a fortunate man, señor.’

His mouth thinned. ‘When I ask a question, I expect an answer.’

‘And I gave you one.’

‘Let’s try again, Miss Miller,’ he said, very softly. ‘How did you insinuate yourself into this household?’

Arden glared at him. ‘That’s not a question, it’s an accusation.’

‘When Linda told me my uncle had hired a gringa named Arden Miller, I thought it had to be some sort of joke. “I know this woman,” I said, “and she is no more a nurse than—”’

‘Your uncle hired me to be his companion.’

‘Why are you wasting time, Conor?’ Linda said sharply. ‘Just tell the woman to pack her things and get out.’

‘I want some answers first,’ he said, his eyes still fixed on Arden. ‘And Miss Miller is not leaving until I get them.’

‘I don’t owe you any answers!’

‘I want to know how you wormed your way into this house.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Arden pushed past him and strode to the centre of the room. ‘I didn’t “worm” my way in anywhere,’ she said angrily. ‘I found out that Senor Romero was looking for a companion, and—’

‘And you saw a golden opportunity. An old man—wealthy, lonely, ill...’ A cruel smile twisted across his lips. ‘Perfect for your kind of woman!’

Colour flooded Arden’s cheeks. ‘That’s a lie!’

‘I speak the truth and you know it.’ His gaze swept over her with deliberate insolence, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of her breasts, then lifted to her flushed face. ‘I can hardly blame my uncle for being taken in, Miss Miller. The last time we met, it was much easier to see your—assets. But I must admit, even clothed, you are enticing.’

Linda Vasquez gasped. ‘Conor?’ she said, ‘what are you talking about?’

‘You have no right to say such things,’ Arden said furiously. ‘You don’t know the first thing about me.’

‘I know all I need to know. You’re a woman who lives by her wits...’ he laughed mirthlessly ‘... and the other qualities she possesses.’

‘And you’re a liar and a bully!’

Conor’s brows rose. ‘I’d almost forgotten how good you are,’ he said. ‘Your talent for turning your victim into the villain is truly remarkable.’ The laughter fled his face instantly, like a chalk drawing wiped from a slate. ‘But it won’t save you now, Miss Miller. I’ve seen your act before, and I’m impervious to it. Unfortunately, Uncle Felix isn’t.’

‘Your concern for your uncle is touching, Senor Martinez.’ Arden folded her arms across her breasts. ‘Of course, if you really felt any concern for him, he wouldn’t need a companion in the first place.’

‘Meaning?’

‘Meaning, your uncle needs someone to keep him company, to read to him and chat with him, but since neither you or Señorita Vasquez give him the time—’

‘—you offered to make up for those deprivations.’ Conor’s lips curled in a sarcastic smile. ‘Out of the kindness and generosity of your heart, no doubt.’