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Golden eyes splintered into her in a near-physical assault. ‘And the traffic through your bedroom will be considerably lighter in the future.’
Sarah’s sole desire now was to retaliate in kind. Temper lanced through her in a wild thrust of aggression. ‘I’d love to know how you intend to achieve that. Chastity belts are a little out of date, Rafael, and I’m afraid an embargo wouldn’t have much effect on me,’ she told him furiously. ‘Tell me, does this really have anything to do with the children? Or is it just the idea that someone else appears to have succeeded where you failed?’
Her taunt fell into a combustible atmosphere like a flaming torch. Rafael went satisfyingly rigid, his lean powerful body bracing as he took a sudden backward step, as though he was mentally endowing her with a much-needed line of defence. If he crossed that line, he would either kill her or…make love to her again. Hotly, invasively, unforgettably. An excitement as entirely primitive as his fury flooded her and she was staggered by the strength of her imagination and her own barbaric response to the imagery. Clashing with the ferocious intensity of his stare, she suddenly knew that he was completely attuned to her thoughts and her mouth ran dry and she quailed, abruptly, disorientatingly herself again.
‘No…I am not so to be caught.’
‘Who the hell wants to catch you?’ Sarah lost her head all over again, shaken more than she cared to admit by the unwelcome bond of understanding that had surfaced between them. She lifted a trembling hand to her aching head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Sorry?’ he raged. ‘I do not want this sorry!’
His English had gone to hell. His so-expressive hands moved in a violent arc of frustration and fury and a treacherous little pang of tenderness stole through her. She had sunk low in her need to strike back and she was not very proud of herself. Conversely, she did not want Rafael to suspect that other reasons might have lain behind the ease of his conquest. And if ever anybody had asked for what they had received today, it was Rafael! Curiosity? Well, if he didn’t like what he believed he had discovered, it was entirely his own fault.
Silence sat like a giant concrete block between them. Heavy, immovable. He was so possessive, so incredibly, primitively possessive. All these years he had existed without her and yet still that unreasoning streak of possessiveness burned in him as fiercely as ever. Once he had loved her utterly without reservation. He hadn’t minded the burnt offerings on the dinner table. He hadn’t raged over her excessive need for order. Indeed he had made vague and endearing attempts to be more tidy. He had bought her flowers, surprise presents…
Disconcertingly tears scorched her eyelids. It had been so long since she’d allowed herself to remember those things. But he had also flushed her contraceptive pills down the toilet when she’d threatened to leave him. He had also betrayed her in the most agonising way a woman could be betrayed by someone she loves. And inevitably she thought of the woman in the photograph with her glorious black tumbling hair and sloe-dark eyes. Pain tore into her momentary weakness and pain triumphed.
‘Tomorrow afternoon, I fly back to Spain,’ he said harshly.
The news swept her with mute gratitude. ‘Bon voyage.’
He strolled soundlessly over to the window and dug a hand into the pocket of his well-cut trousers, stretching the fine fabric tautly over his long, muscular thighs. Her colour heightening, Sarah glanced hurriedly away from him.
‘I do not come often to England and at this time it is difficult for me to be away long from my home. My grandmother is very frail…’
Sarah stared at him. ‘I didn’t know your grandmother was still alive.’
He shrugged. ‘Why should you? While my grandfather lived, I had no contact with her.’
‘You never told me he was alive either!’
‘There was no reason to when I did not visit,’ he fielded impatiently. ‘Abuela is an invalid now. I want her to meet her great-grandchildren. I also want to spend time with my children. I want you and the twins to come to Spain.’
Air escaped her lungs in a shocked gush. ‘S…Spain?’
‘Perhaps you would like me to show you where it is in the atlas.’
‘I’ve already had my holiday leave. It’s out of the question,’ Sarah told him vehemently. ‘We can’t possibly come to Spain.’
Rafael dealt her an insolent smile. ‘Let me clarify the situation for you. It is really very straightforward. I engaged a lawyer this morning. He believes I have an excellent case. If you don’t come to Spain, I instigate court proceedings. Do not underestimate my determination, Sarah.’ The warning was a stark threat in the sudden stillness. ‘I want my children.’
Her defiant stance had perceptibly shrunk. Her hands knotted anxiously together. ‘It doesn’t have to be a fight. I said I’d be reasonable. Unless you’re talking about a short week-long visit…’ she suggested grudgingly.
‘Sarah,’ he interposed. ‘I expect you to move to Spain.’
‘Move to Spain? You’ve got to be out of your mind! I have a job—’
‘Resign,’ he slotted in succinctly. ‘Give up this place and pack.’
Sarah shook her head, unwilling to believe that he could be serious. ‘I’m not leaving England. This is my home.’
‘No child of mine will be raised as I was raised.’ His dark features were implacable. ‘For both of us it will mean sacrifices. Children have very basic needs. They require a mother, a father and a conventional home and I intend to supply each and every one of those needs!’
‘In an ideal world! And you may not have noticed but this is not an ideal world!’ Sarah threw back furiously.
‘They also require love, commitment and discipline. My children,’ Rafael stressed, ‘deserve to have all of these things.’
‘You can visit them!’
‘Visit?’ He vented a raw expletive. ‘That is not enough. Already I have lost four years. And for them there will be no divided loyalties and no insecure worries about where they belong. In short, there will be no divorce.’
‘No divorce?’ Sarah repeated in rampant disbelief.
‘I never gave my consent for a divorce.’ His eyes glittered over her angrily. ‘Never did I even consider giving it.’
‘I don’t need your consent!’ Sarah exploded. ‘In three months I’m having my divorce and you’re history!’
Long fingers enclosed her fragile wrist, propelling her forward. Her hair flew back in silk butterfly wings from her shaken face. ‘There will be no divorce,’ he intoned fiercely. ‘Unless you are prepared to lose your children. If you proceed with the divorce, Sarah, I will take everything from you. As once you took everything from me.’
Panic made her limp in his strong hold. ‘Rafael…’
A taunting fingertip trailed a sensual path to the valley between her heaving breasts. Predatory black-lashed golden eyes roved over her in an abrasively masculine appraisal before returning to grip her shocked gaze. She shuddered as she felt her flesh tauten and swell where his hand lightly rested in a chemical reaction far more powerful than any force of will. His breath feathered in her hair. ‘I could become addicted to torture, gatita. You are so incredibly receptive. I can make the hot blood race through your veins. I can make you cry my name in an agony of desire…’
His rich dark drawl had sunk to an intimate whisper that was disturbingly hypnotic. She could taste threat in the air and her throat convulsed but her skin was damp and her rebellious body was responding with anticipation rather than distaste.
‘Stop it,’ she mumbled thickly.
‘I used to dream of what it would be like for you to want me as I wanted you.’ His expert mouth located a sensitive hollow above her collarbone. Luxuriant black hair brushed against her cheek and she was swallowed up and swept away by a tidal wave of shivering weakness. ‘I would have died for a tithe of what I received this afternoon, but you knew that, didn’t you? You gave yourself carelessly, lightly, when you would not give yourself in love. You wanted me to know just once what I had
never had. How can I be so ungrateful for this generosity? I shall tell you why. I am not reasonable. I am not liberated. I am not forgiving. Do I apologise for these flaws? Does a man rebel against what is in his blood? Do you think it will hurt more if I don’t touch you or if I do?’
She attempted to yank herself free but he held her fast in a grasp of steel, laughing softly now that he had deliberately released her from the spell of his intense sexual magnetism. She was trembling in aftershock from his sensual assault and Rafael’s effect on her now was, she registered with a belated surge of understanding, not really that surprising.
She was no longer the mixed-up, repressed young girl she had been five years ago. The combined results of Rafael’s infidelity, her father’s treatment and those awful weeks shut away with only her own thoughts for company had been traumatic. Harsh circumstance had forced her out of her shell and taught her self-reliance.
She had had to get away from both Rafael and her parents to develop into her own person, to make her own decisions and inevitably her own mistakes. The experience had changed her out of all recognition. She had learnt to handle her emotions openly and without apology. She met with Rafael these days on terms of equality.
She didn’t feel threatened or diminished by his extreme masculinity now. She didn’t resent his dominance. Rafael could never dominate her now to the extent he had when she was eighteen. As she had grown to like and understand herself, inhibitions grounded on ignorance had gradually fallen away, but Rafael had left her with no desire for sexual experimentation with other men. The sensations and feelings that swept her out of control in his arms stemmed from responses that had once been buried deep and denied.
His hands slid caressingly down over her arms and then dropped away, leaving her feeling strangely bereft. ‘I think you should put on some clothes. I’ve promised to take the children to McDonald’s.’
From the sublime to the ridiculous, that was Rafael. He studied her with gleaming amusement. ‘I’m not coming with you!’ she snapped.
