it—isn’t it, Zoë?’
‘I can’t help it.’ She made a weak gesture with her hands.
‘Do you have any idea how insulting that is?’
She saw his hand tighten on the door handle until his knuckles turned white, and took a step towards him. ‘I’m sorry, Rico. I haven’t even congratulated you—’
He made an angry gesture, cutting her off. ‘I don’t know what shocks me the most—the fact that you can mention violence in your past as if it were nothing, or the thought that you could possibly confuse me with some snivelling bully who preys on women and others who are weaker than himself.’
‘I just don’t want tonight to be all about me. This is your night too, Rico.’
‘What you’ve just said overrides anything else.’
‘We can’t talk about it now. I can’t just abandon my guests.’
‘Forget the damned party!’
‘How can I?’ Zoë said, moving towards the door. ‘It’s wrong of me to keep you so long like this, Rico. Your young companion—’
‘Will do perfectly well without me.’ He caught hold of her arm as she tried to move past him. ‘You can’t leave it like this, Zoë. If you are protecting someone—someone who’s hurt you—’
‘I’m not,’ she said steadily, meeting his eyes. ‘I promise you, Rico, it’s all over now.’
‘Is it?’
‘Yes,’ she said, holding his gaze. ‘Yes, it is.’
He shook his head, and his eyes were full of concern. ‘Know this, Zoë: I am not and never have been a violent man. I have never raised my hand in anger to anyone. When you have great strength the very first thing you must learn is control. Strength has not been given to me to use against a weaker person, or some helpless creature. It has been given to me to help other people when I can, and for me to enjoy. Nothing more.’
And before she could say another word, he added in a fierce undertone, ‘And don’t you ever confuse me with some other man again.’
Rico opened the door for her and stood aside to let her pass, and the happy noise and bustle of the courtyard claimed her.
‘Señorita?’
Zoë looked round to see that he had followed her out. It took her a moment of recovery after their highly charged exchange for her to realise what he meant to do.
Sweeping her a formal half-bow, he offered her his arm. ‘May I escort you back to the party, Señorita Chapman?’
The rest of the night passed in a blur of laughter and dancing for Zoë. By the time people started drifting away her feet were aching. She had joined in every traditional dance of the region—men, women and children, all on their feet, colourful skirts flying and proud hands clapping the irresistible syncopated rhythms.
Now she was exhausted, and more grateful than ever to Rico’s efficient staff, who had cleared away absolutely everything from the hall, leaving her with nothing to do there.
‘Why are you back in the kitchen?’
‘Rico—you caught me.’ Zoë turned, embarrassed that he had seen her stealing her own figuritas. Now it was her turn to get her hand slapped—the only difference was, Rico’s slap was more of a caress, and then he raised her hand to his lips. ‘You have earned a break, Zoë.’ He looked around. ‘My people are only too happy to clear up—I told them they could take anything that was left home with them.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I’m sure they can spare you one marzipan mouse.’
‘Why are you frowning?’
‘I just don’t have the knack of dismissing the things you told me—as you seem to have.’
‘Have I spoiled the party for you?’
‘Don’t trivialise what you said, Zoë. You can’t keep everything locked inside you for ever.’
Why not? She’d been doing a pretty good job up to now. ‘Let’s not talk about it tonight,’ she said, forcing a bright note into her voice. ‘We’re both tired—’
‘Are we?’
Heat flared up from Zoë’s toes to scorch her cheeks. ‘Is it a deal? Can we just leave all the other stuff for another time?’
Pressing his lips together, he frowned. He didn’t look keen. ‘If that’s what you want. I don’t want to spoil the night for you.’
‘You could never do that.’
The suggestion of a smile tugged at his lips.
They broke eye contact at a knock on the door. She couldn’t have given a better cue herself, Zoë realised as Rico’s helpers trooped in. It was impossible to talk about the past now. ‘Shall we go back to the party?’
‘Not for too long.’
There was something in the way he said it that made Zoë blush. ‘Why?’ She looked up at him, and immediately wished she hadn’t.
Dipping his head close as he opened the door for her, he whispered in her ear: ‘I’m tired of playing games, Zoë. Can’t you see how much I want you?’
It was so unexpected. She couldn’t imagine anyone other than Rico even saying the words. No man had ever admitted to wanting her—he was the first. She didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t know what was expected of her. ‘I don’t want to talk about—’
‘Who said anything about talking? And you have my word I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do.’
Rico drew her out of the bustling kitchen through a door that led into the silent hall. ‘That’s better,’ he murmured, pulling her close to drop a kiss on her brow. ‘I like to see you smile. I don’t want to see you tense and unhappy ever again.’ Nudging her hair aside, he planted a second tender kiss on the very sensitive place below her ear.
When he rasped the stubble on his chin against her neck Zoë gasped, and allowed him to draw her closer still. It was so easy to slip beneath Rico’s seductive spell. She could have broken away at any time; but his hold on her was so light there was no reason to try.
She parted her lips, welcoming the invasion of his tongue, but he teased her gently, pulling away until she locked her hands behind his neck and brought him back again. And then their mouths collided hungrily, and it was Rico’s turn to groan as she moulded into him.
She was in a dream state as Rico led her swiftly by the hand through the castle. Every part of her was aching for his touch. His hand was firm and warm, and she went with him willingly through the archway that led to the luxury spa.
‘I haven’t been down here before,’ Zoë admitted as Rico let go of her for a moment to close the door.
