living in a grand mansion.’
‘I didn’t hate the cottage, but we lived there with your parents and your mother never made me feel welcome.’ Sabrina saw disbelief in Cruz’s eyes and knew it would be pointless trying to convince him that she hadn’t minded the basic living accommodation in Brazil. But his mother’s unfriendliness had been hard to cope with. Ana-Maria Delgado had patently adored her son, and perhaps in Cruz’s mother’s eyes no woman would be good enough for him, Sabrina mused.
As Cruz had said, there was no point in dragging up the past. It had all happened a long time ago and their lives had moved on. Ironically their fortunes had reversed for Cruz was now a millionaire, while since her father’s disappearance she had spent every last penny she had paying for the upkeep of Eversleigh Hall, and she and the house were practically bankrupt.
‘Some things about you haven’t changed. Your eyes still darken to the colour of storm clouds when you lie.’
Cruz’s deep voice jolted Sabrina from her thoughts and she tensed as he walked around the desk and stood unsettlingly close to her.
‘Ten years ago when I asked you if you were happy to live in Brazil with me and have my child, you assured me that you were, but your eyes were as dark as pewter and revealed the truth—that you wanted to return to Eversleigh Hall.’
She flushed guiltily and looked away from his intent gaze that seemed to bore into her skull and read her thoughts. ‘I missed my brother,’ she said quietly. ‘Tristan was just a kid of eleven. After my mother left we had become very close and I was worried about him living here with just a nanny to take care of him.’
‘I don’t believe that concern for your brother was the only reason for your eagerness to leave Brazil, any more than I believe you are unable to contact Earl Bancroft if you wish to,’ he said sardonically. ‘I also think you know more about the map than you have admitted.’
She had forgotten how tall he was, Sabrina thought, feeling a frisson of panic when she realised that he had moved imperceptibly closer to her. She could see the shadow of black chest hairs beneath his crisp white shirt and the faint delineation of his powerful abdominal muscles. Seductive images taunted her subconscious: Cruz’s naked, bronzed body pressed against hers, hard against soft, dark against her whiteness. She visualised him pulling her down on top of him, his strong arms holding her as he guided her onto his erect shaft while she slowly took him inside her.
Heat coursed through her veins. The few lovers she’d had in the past ten years had never evoked more than her mild interest, and sex had been disappointing. But to her shame she was bombarded by memories of Cruz’s magnificent virility and she was aware of a betraying dampness between her legs.
Anger was her only defence against the insidious ache of longing in the pit of her stomach. ‘I’ve told you I know nothing about a map and it’s not my problem if you refuse to believe me.’
Even though she was wearing four-inch heels she had to tilt her head to look at his face. Ten years ago she hadn’t stood a chance against him, she thought bitterly, feeling an ache in her heart for the innocent girl she had once been who had looked forward to going to university. Cruz had taken one look at her and decided he wanted her, but within months of the start of their affair she had been pregnant and facing a very different life in Brazil from the one she had been used to in England.
If he had loved her she would have coped with her new lifestyle, she thought sadly. But when her pregnancy had been confirmed Cruz’s desire for her had died and it had quickly become clear that they had nothing between them to sustain a relationship.
She felt the ache of tears at the back of her throat. It was silly to cry for a lost love that in truth had only ever been an illusion, she reminded herself.
‘I want you to leave,’ she said tautly. She frowned when he made no response, merely raised his dark eyebrows and surveyed her with an arrogance that made her seethe.
‘I suppose you think I should be intimidated by your air of menace. Perhaps you think you can force the whereabouts of the map out of me, but I have plenty of staff in the house.’ She mentally crossed her fingers behind her back as she thought of John and his wife, Mary. The butler and housekeeper were the only remaining staff living at Eversleigh and were past retirement age. ‘If you lay a finger on me I’ll scream.’
She spun on her heels, intending to march over to the door, but his hand shot out and he caught hold of her arm and jerked her round to face him.
‘I don’t think force will be necessary to persuade you to give me what I want,’ he murmured.
Sabrina’s stomach muscles clenched as his sensuous, molten-syrup voice tugged on her senses. Time seemed to be suspended and her breath was trapped in her lungs. Her eyes widened as she watched his dark head descend and she realised that he was going to kiss her. He wouldn’t dare, she assured herself. But this was Cruz Delgado—a man who would dare to make a deal with the devil if he believed the odds were in his favour.
‘I warned you, I’ll scream.’ It was melodramatic, but she felt melodramatic, damn it! She gasped as he pulled her against him and she felt the heat from his body melting her bones.
He gave a wolfish smile. ‘Perhaps you will. I remember how you used to scream with pleasure and claw me with your sharp nails when you came, gatinha.’
‘Cruz—for God’s sake!’ In desperation she thumped his shoulder with her fist, but her blows had as much effect as a mosquito landing on a rhino’s hide.
‘You are so goddamned beautiful,’ Cruz said harshly. He could not resist her and he was shamed by his weakness. If he kissed her, perhaps the fire blazing inside him would cool and he would be released from this mad desire that made his muscles taut and his heart pound. He clamped one arm around her waist and slid his other hand into her hair and up to clasp her nape as his mouth swooped down to capture hers.
Cruz’s lips were hard, demanding, as he forced Sabrina to accept the mastery of his kiss. She was unprepared for the savage hunger that ripped through her. She was transported back in time to when she had been eighteen; a girl on the brink of womanhood, a virgin who had given not only her body but her heart and her soul to Cruz. It had taken her ten long years to reclaim them.
The memory of how badly he had hurt her gave her the strength to fight him. But he remembered how to pleasure her and he knew how to undermine her defences with the bold sweep of his tongue as he traced the shape of her lips before thrusting between them to explore the moist interior of her mouth.
Sabrina felt herself tremble and knew Cruz must sense she was close to total capitulation. But rather than increase the pressure of his mouth he softened the kiss and took little sips from her lips, butterfly soft and so utterly beguiling that she sagged against him and kissed him with a sweetness and curiously evocative innocence that caused Cruz to abruptly lift his head.
Deus! He had not come to Eversleigh Hall with the intention of making love to Sabrina. His eyes shot to the big mahogany desk and for a few seconds he was tempted to sacrifice his hope of finding the map, and probably his sanity, he acknowledged derisively, to satisfy the rampant desire raging through his veins.
He had not expected to feel this overpowering attraction to a woman he had known briefly when she had been a girl. Their affair had lasted for less than a year and after she had returned to England he had determinedly put her out of his mind. When he had arrived at Eversleigh Hall this evening he had assumed he would be immune to Sabrina Bancroft. The reckless craving that consumed him was a humiliating reminder of his weakness
