took off his shades then and, for the first time, Kat noticed the dark shadows beneath his ebony eyes and the undeniable strain around his sensual lips. As if he hadn’t slept a wink.
‘Where else are you going to go?’ he questioned.
Had he intended to make her sound like some piece of unwanted luggage which had turned up on his doorstep? Twisting her fingers in her lap, Kat thought about her options. ‘My family own a couple of apartments in central London. Or there’s always…home…’
But as she thought of her mother’s gatehouse or of the magnificent Balfour Manor itself, her voice trailed off unconvincingly. Was that because nowhere ever really felt like home and never had, except for that halcyon period in Sri Lanka, before Victor died? She’d never experienced that real sense of belonging which other people seemed to take for granted. Of knowing her place in the world, and where she fitted in. But if sleeping with Carlos had succeeded in making her feel even more alienated, she was certainly not going to let him know that. Kat lifted a defiant chin. ‘I can always go there.’
‘No, you can’t go there,’ he contradicted firmly. He had noticed the unmistakable tremble of vulnerability on her lips—and it suddenly occurred to him that maybe Kat Balfour was not the woman he had thought her to be. ‘Not with this preying on your mind. People will notice that you are pale and distracted and they will want to know why.’
‘And of course I won’t be able to tell them, will I?’ she demanded hotly. ‘Because that might just compromise the mighty Carlos Guerrero’s integrity!’
He flinched, unable to deny her angry accusation. ‘It might just create a whole host of unwanted problems for you as well, Princesa,’ he answered quietly. ‘Particularly if it isn’t true.’
‘And if it is true?’ she questioned, her voice rising a little. ‘What, then? Won’t that pose even more problems?’
There was a long pause as he tried to imagine Kat Balfour giving birth to his baby, and when he spoke his voice sounded empty. ‘Of course it will, but nothing that can’t be worked out. And in the meantime…’
Hesitation was not something she associated with him, and Kat looked at him with a sudden nervous trepidation. ‘What?’
Black eyes regarded her and Kat thought how suddenly cold they had become.
‘I think it would be better for both of us if we viewed what happened last night as a one-off,’ he said softly.
Suddenly, despite the blazing heat of the Mediterranean sun, she found herself shivering. Better for both of us, he had said—but that was surely a lie. It was better for him, that was all. He was obviously the kind of man who could swat away memories of a woman once he’d bedded her. Whereas she…why, she was in terrible danger of concocting fantasies about her Spanish lover, if she wasn’t careful. But somehow she nodded, even managed to conjure up a faint smile. Sometimes she had seen her sense of pride as a burden, but now she saw it as her saviour.
‘Much better,’ she agreed calmly. Two weeks of waiting and wondering if there was a baby on the way—and all the while she and Carlos would be like polite strangers. Could she go through with it? Or would the effort of maintaining such a pretence drive her mad?
Yet the alternative was far more daunting. Stuck in Balfour Manor or one of the London apartments with such a massive secret eating away at her.
‘Why not just regard the next couple of weeks as a kind of holiday while you wait to find out?’ he continued coolly. ‘The kind of holiday you first envisaged when you were brought here. You can lie around on deck, doing nothing more taxing than sunning yourself by the pool, and reading magazines. I’m sure you can find enough to amuse you.’
The words hung in the air and mocked her. He made her sound like some spoilt little girl who needed to be entertained. But that was how he saw her, wasn’t it—even now? How he’d always seen her. Some vacuous little airhead.
Well, damn Carlos Guerrero. She would go crazy if she had to mooch around on deck acting as if there wasn’t this great time bomb waiting to go off.
‘I don’t want to lie by the pool reading magazines, Carlos,’ she said slowly.
His eyes narrowed with surprise as he stared at her. ‘You don’t?’
‘No. I’d like to carry on cooking for the crew. That is what I’m supposed to be here for.’
‘Are you serious?’
‘Entirely serious. I was just starting to get into it—and there are plenty more things left for me to learn. So if you’ll excuse me, I’d better get on with the preparations for today’s meals.’ The decision which had clearly surprised him now empowered her enough to give him a serene smile. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when lunch is ready.’
Carlos stared at her, his eyes narrowing with frustration. What the hell was the matter with her? She hadn’t flirted or pouted—and now she was proposing to carry on working!
He felt the sudden leap of desire as she picked up her coffee cup, and he lifted his hand in a silent gesture of command, dampening down the voice of reason which was demanding to be heard.
‘I want you eating your lunch up here with me today,’ he informed her silkily. ‘Understand?’
Kat stared into the shuttered black eyes, convinced that his autocratic statement had more to do with possession than because he actually enjoyed her company. Wasn’t it just a demonstration of his power over her—and could she possibly maintain this air of nonchalance if she had long periods of being alone with him?
‘As you wish,’ she said carelessly. ‘You’re the boss after all.’ And she headed off towards the galley.
Carlos was left looking at the empty space she left behind with a feeling of disbelief, and it was several minutes before he was able to lose himself in his work.
But he wasn’t deaf to the sounds of laughter which occasionally drifted upwards from the galley, and as the morning wore on, he found that his mood was growing increasingly sour. So that by the time Kat appeared, bearing a bowl of salad and some sort of pasta dish, his nerves were frayed and he felt the slow and relentless beat of frustration.
‘Hungry?’ she questioned with a smile which sent his pulse rate soaring.
‘I can always eat, Princesa.’
Sitting down opposite him, Kat wondered if he knew that her heart was racing erratically or that the desire to touch him felt almost like a physical pain. What on earth were they going to talk about, when all she could think of was how it felt to have his warm skin next to hers. Especially when he was behaving as if she was completely invisible. Pretend you’re at some tedious social function and have just been sat next to the guest of honour.
‘Why don’t you tell me how you got into bullfighting in the first place?’ she enquired politely, doling out a spoonful of pasta onto one of the plates.
There was a pause. ‘I thought I told you I don’t like talking about it?’ he snapped.
‘Did you? Okay. Then let’s try something else.’ She picked up a dish of salad and held it towards him with a polite smile. ‘Tell me about your business
