something more... suitable for you to wear in the meantime.’ His nose all but wrinkled. ‘My sister has her own apartment here when she pays a visit and although considerably taller she is as slender as you.’
‘There’s no need for that and—’
‘Oh, but there is,’ he corrected tightly. ‘This is not a tourist resort and you may have noticed that young females do not display themselves quite so wantonly in this part of Spain. The young men who followed you probably thought, quite legitimately, that you were encouraging them to do so, especially in view of the fact that you were not accompanied.’
‘Well, that’s just plain ridiculous,’ she said angrily as her temper rose to boiling-point. ‘Do you mean to tell me that women here have to be covered from head to foot? What are you living in, for crying out loud, the Dark Ages? Women should be able to dress exactly how they want to without becoming targets for the sort of animals that followed me.’
‘Not a feminist too?’ He shut his eyes briefly and she was furious with herself for noticing, at such a time as this, that his eyelashes were incredibly long and curly as they rested for a moment on the hard, tanned cheeks. ‘I really think I need another brandy and then I must make a telephone call. But first you need to refresh yourself. Teresa and Benita will help you bathe and then I will put a bandage on that ankle to try and contain the swelling.’
‘But you have to go out,’ she said faintly. ‘You said—’
‘I think I realised when I picked you up off the road that my evening was not going to plan,’ he said drily. ‘Now please allow me, if not as a man then as a doctor, to take care of you tonight. Tomorrow we can arrange the hospital visit and organise accommodation and a ticket home.’
‘But why are you helping me like this?’ She stared at him, her grey eyes huge and liquid in her tear-smudged face and her silky blonde hair a cascade of silver falling over slender shoulders. ‘You don’t have to...’
‘In my country we do not forget the rules of hospitality,’ he said coldly after a long pregnant moment when he had searched her face with his piercing eyes. ‘You are a stranger in my land and you are in need, it is as simple as that. Also the fact that I cannot understand how you have not been eaten alive before now compels me not to—how would you put it?—push your luck?’
‘Eaten alive?’ There was a darkness in his face that frightened her. ‘But there are no wild animals in this part of Spain, are there?’
‘The human animal is far more ferocious than any wild cat when its appetite is aroused,’ he said grimly, ‘and unfortunately often less noble.’
‘Oh...’ As burning colour flooded her cheeks at the memory of the Spanish youths’ hot eyes and predatory mouths she dropped her eyes quickly. He thought her a fool, a complete and utter fool, and she was beginning to agree with him.
An hour later, bathed, creamed and with her hair newly washed, she lay on the vast bed in the suite of rooms she had been shown to with her head spinning and her mind racing. After the two maids had helped her to bath and wash her hair they had half carried her to the bed where she had found a pair of trousers, a thigh-length blouse in raw silk and even a change of underwear laid out for her. The wildly expensive clothes so casually given, the unimaginable wealth all around her that spoke of power and authority on a scale she had never touched before and the cold, fierce personality of the man who seemed to be master of this empire was numbing her mind. What have you blundered into? she asked herself soberly as she glanced again round the fabulous room. The sooner she was out of here the better. She had never been a snob in even the mildest sense of the word but she had to admit that this particular situation had, temporarily, overwhelmed her.
A light knock on the closed door brought her out of her reverie and, thinking it was one of the maids again, she called for them to enter. As the door opened and Francisco’s tall, broad shape stood framed in the doorway, her heart jumped painfully in her chest. He had changed since she last saw him and the black silk shirt and casual black jeans that he now wore seemed to project still further the innate cold austerity of the man while adding to the cruel, handsome face a piratical effect. For a moment she could have believed they had travelled back in time and she was facing one of the original conquistadors, fiercely proud, intrinsically cruel and without mercy.
‘Don’t look so frightened.’ It was the last thing she expected him to say and as her mouth opened in a small O of surprise she saw a fleeting smile touch the firm, hard mouth. ‘If all my patients would have reacted like you I think it is probably as well fate led me in another direction than that of a doctor, do you not agree?’
‘I’m sorry.’ She pulled herself together with a visible effort as he walked slowly across the room, carrying his bag.
‘Is it still as painful?’ After examining the swollen flesh that was already turning a faint blue he began to wind a tight bandage expertly round her foot.
‘No, no, it’s not,’ she said quickly, trying to concentrate on the ache in her ankle rather than the feel of his warm, competent fingers on her skin. The sight of this severe, forbidding man performing such a gentle task was such an antithesis that it was causing her heart to pound again. She didn’t know why he affected her so strongly but affect her he did, and she found it acutely disturbing.
‘The clothes are lovely,’ she said after a few seconds, more for something to say than anything else. The silence had begun to scream at her.
‘Good.’ He raised his head as he spoke after tying the bandage lightly in place. ‘I thought they would fit with a little adjustment.’ His eyes glanced at the trousers that she had rolled up a few inches.
In spite of herself she couldn’t stop a pink flush from staining her cheeks at the thought of the tiny scraps of lacy underwear spread out on the bed. The female shape was clearly no mystery to him. Again, it was as though he could read her mind.
“There is no need to be embarrassed.’ The cool voice was mocking but not unfriendly. ‘I have not reached the age of thirty-eight without having become... familiar with the items ladies wear under their clothing.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ she said as lightly as the hectic flush in her cheeks would allow, ‘but I’m not used to men choosing my clothes for me.’
He stiffened as he looked down at her, her long silver hair spread out in a shining pillow round her head and her slender shape defenceless in the middle of the huge bed.
‘I do not play with children, Miss Lorne Wilson, so you may let your anxiety lessen.’ His voice was expressionless and she couldn’t read anything beyond the black glitter in his eyes. ‘You have had one distressing experience today; let that suffice.’
‘What does that mean?’ she asked hotly. ‘That you consider me a child? You still don’t believe I am twenty-two, is that it?’
‘Your numerical age has nothing to do with it,’ he said calmly, ‘or even the fact that you look about five years younger than you are. I can read in your eyes, your body, your whole outlook on life that the world hasn’t touched you with its unpleasant, darker side yet. That is good; you must hold on to that for as long as you can and be with companions of like mind.’
‘And you aren’t?’ She didn’t know what made her ask such a pertinent question but it was out before she could hold it back. He froze for an infinitesimal moment and then breathed out slowly, his eyes hooded.
‘I’m not,’ he agreed grimly,
