Argentinian Playboy, Unexpected Love-Child. Chantelle Shaw

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is that I don’t want to be beholden to any man.’

      She sounded so fierce that Diego’s brows rose. ‘Perhaps you have not yet found a man who excites you sufficiently that you would want to be beholden to him?’

      ‘That’s not likely to happen.’ Rachel wondered what Diego would say if she admitted that he excited her unbearably. Since he had kissed her in her caravan they seemed to have been playing a waiting game where the sexual chemistry between them had simmered beneath the surface and they had both tried to ignore it. But the look in his eyes tonight told her that he was bored of the game. She could feel the tension in his body, and when he held her close so that her head rested on his chest she could hear the erratic beat of his heart and knew that it matched her own.

      ‘What about marriage and children?’ he queried curiously. ‘Don’t you want those?’ Every woman he’d ever met had seemed to regard him as suitable husband material, and their first demand for commitment was invariably the point at which he ended a relationship. Rachel was a novelty in more ways than one, he brooded as he glanced down at her simple skirt and top and acknowledged that she looked sexier than any of the women at the party who were wearing designer outfits.

      Rachel shrugged. ‘I believe children deserve to have two parents who are committed to each other and, as I don’t want to get married, I guess I won’t have them. Perhaps I’ll feel different in the future, but right now I don’t have any maternal urges. I’d rather concentrate on my riding career.’

      Diego’s mouth curved into a smile that stole her breath. ‘So, you are a free spirit and you can do whatever pleases you?’

      ‘Yes.’ The word escaped as a little gasp as he stroked his hand down to the base of her spine and exerted gentle pressure so that he brought her pelvis into direct contact with his. The hungry gleam in his eyes filled her with a feverish anticipation. Did he know how much he was pleasing her, holding her like this? How much she longed for him to lower his mouth to hers and kiss her as he had done two weeks ago?

      He knew, she thought dreamily as their bodies swayed together in time with the music, one tune spilling into another so that she lost all sense of time and place and was conscious only of Diego—the hardness of his body and the subtle perfume of his aftershave, mingled with male pheromones that tantalised her senses. She didn’t want to ever stop dancing, and felt a lurch of disappointment when the band announced they would be taking a break while the firework display took place. But, instead of releasing her, Diego kept his arm firmly around her waist as he led her outside and drew her to the edge of the crowd.

      Starbursts of gold and silver shot across the sky and were reflected in the inky blackness of the lake. Rachel tilted her head to watch, supremely aware of Diego standing behind her, and she gave a little shiver when she felt him brush his lips down her neck in a feather-light caress.

      The pyrotechnic display ended with a cascade of sparkling colours falling down to earth. There was a round of applause and, as the guests returned to the marquee, silence fell around them, a prickling, shimmering silence so intense that Rachel was aware of the faint, uneven whisper of her breath.

      ‘It’s not working, is it?’ Diego murmured in her ear, his accent very pronounced and heart-stoppingly sexy.

      Rachel turned to face him and shook her head, bemused by the question. ‘What isn’t?’

      ‘Trying to ignore the hunger that is eating away at both of us,’ he said softly.

      She understood immediately, but understanding did not lessen her confusion. ‘But you never gave any indication during the past two weeks that you wanted…’ She broke off, her face flaming, and his smile widened into a predatory grin.

      ‘You?’ He finished her sentence for her. ‘I promised myself that I would behave in a professional manner in the workplace. But that doesn’t mean I have not secretly fantasised about barricading us in the hay barn and making love to you until we were both utterly sated.’

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