normal circumstances, he would have dispatched his driver to do the honours, but these were hardly normal circumstances.
A fortnight ago, he had left Argentina an engaged man. He had presumed that Sofia would leave with him but, she’d informed him, she had things to do.
‘I can’t just up sticks and leave,’ she had told him, sitting upright across from him in the formal sitting room where the details of this marriage of convenience had been discussed with the formality of two heads of state at a summit. ‘I have things to do.’
‘What things?’
‘Things,’ she had said coolly. ‘All the usual things a person has to do just before they travel to another country to marry someone they barely know.’
‘Thereby ensuring themselves a small fortune in the process,’ Rafael had been prompted into saying, edgily. ‘As a token of good faith, I’m prepared to personally transfer a sizeable amount to your bank account online right now, if you give me your account details.’
‘I also,’ Sofia had added, overriding the offer, ‘don’t like the idea of just disappearing and leaving a farewell note behind. I may not be the Walters’ biggest fan,’ she had conceded truthfully, ‘but I’m fond of their children and I would like to say goodbye to them.’
* * *
So that had been that. In the end, it had worked out for the best because Rafael had travelled back solo and had taken the opportunity to explain the situation to David, who was now on the slow and laborious route to recuperation.
It had also given him ample opportunity to crystallise the what happens next? in the scenario.
Not that he hadn’t thought about it while he had been out there. He had. Eventually. When matters had come to a head.
He’d been confronted with a sexy beauty and for a while his libido had misbehaved but, yes, when he had sat her down and explained the situation, he had known that acting on his libido was not going to do.
This wasn’t going to be one of his transitory affairs. He wasn’t going to be able to walk away after a handful of weeks and bouquet of ‘it’s over’ flowers lovingly chosen by his PA.
No, Sofia Suarez, whose existence he hadn’t been aware of a fortnight previously, was going to be slightly more long-lasting than that.
A year. That was the timeline mutually agreed as they had coolly and objectively discussed the nuts and bolts of their arrangement. A year, during which he would sort out the problem with Freddy and she would build the bonds with her father that would last beyond the inevitable divorce. A year seemed like a reasonable length of time. Having agreed to the deal, not once had she baulked, and he had admired her for that.
It was going to be a mutually beneficial situation for all concerned. For his godfather, who was desperate to meet his flesh-and-blood daughter. For him, because he was not only going to do something for the only human being on the planet he actually had time for but, in the process, would sort out the aggravation of his godfather’s stepson’s interference—and, as no miserly bonus, garner himself a healthy slice of the leisure industry his godfather had made his own. And of course for his bride-to-be, who would suddenly find herself one of the wealthiest women on the continent.
Joy and laughter all round.
But not if he allowed his libido to rule his head.
Rafael had felt the sizzle of attraction between them. He had seen the flare of desire in her feline green eyes and for a short while he had actually contemplated doing something about it. Because the pull towards her, forbidden fruit when he’d started thinking with his head instead of that other, far less reliable part of his body, was the strongest he’d ever experienced.
But this was a business arrangement and he had never been stupid enough to mix business with pleasure.
His solution had been the perfect one. They would maintain their freedom of movement whilst obeying rules of utmost discretion. A year was hardly an eternity in the great scheme of things.
Mind half-playing on the various formalities to be manoeuvred, Rafael spotted her emerging from the airport corridor through which lay Arrivals and Customs. She was walking slowly behind a family and trying hard to control a trolley that seemed determined to explore the opposite direction from the one she was taking.
Her long, dark, curly hair was tied back but travel had unravelled most of it from its restraints. She was dressed in a pair of faded jeans, a loose T-shirt and a scruffy bomber jacket. Her skin was the colour of latte and as smooth as silk and he drew in a sharp breath before briskly walking in her direction.
Just when you figure you’ve got life nicely under control, he thought with grim amusement, you discover that life’s decided to turn the tables and start controlling you.
Just as well he was made of sterner stuff and could handle anything life decided to throw at him.
* * *
Flustered and bug-eyed, because she could count on the fingers of one hand the number of hours she had actually managed to sleep over the past couple of weeks, Sofia was not aware of Rafael’s steady approach.
She was too busy trying not to crash into the three-year-old toddler being pulled along by his mother.
The dark timbre of Rafael’s voice brought her to an abrupt stop, but not for long, because he seamlessly took the trolley from her and ushered her out of the steady stream of traffic looking for familiar faces.
‘Good flight?’ he enquired politely.
Sofia slanted a glance at him. Somehow she had managed to forget just how stunning the guy was. So tall, so powerfully built, so aggressively masculine.
Eyes turned in his direction. Had he noticed? She was sure that he must have and that awareness of his own sexual magnetism would certainly account for some of his overwhelming self-assurance.
‘Fine, thank you,’ she returned, remembering for the record that he might be sex on legs but he was also someone who got what he wanted, whatever the cost and even if it involved lying.
‘That’s all the luggage you have with you?’
‘I travel light.’
‘Sensible. You’re going to have a whole new wardrobe anyway, so the less of your old things you have to dispose of, the better.’
‘How is my...my...how is David doing?’
‘You’re free to call him “Dad” if you like.’
‘He’s not my dad.’
Rafael shrugged but then turned to look down at her, his tone gentling. ‘I understand the situation, Sofia. You’re going to be meeting someone you have no interest in meeting but you’re going to have to control the tendency to be waspish. David is recuperating but the last thing he needs is to be stressed out by surly behaviour.’
‘You have no right to tell me off as though I’m a kid.’ Sofia looked him squarely in the eyes. ‘I didn’t ask to be here.’
‘But here you are, and I could name a million and one reasons
