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‘You look wrecked,’ he observed. ‘You’re no use to the project in this state. You can doze in the truck while I drive. As your boss I’m laying down the law. We’ll reach the clinic by nightfall, and then I’m putting you to bed.’
Sophie heard nothing more—wasn’t even aware that she mewled out loud like a kitten with its paw stuck in a door.
‘I’m not interested in your excuses, so don’t even bother,’ he said grimly, steering her towards the truck.
‘I can manage by myself,’ Sophie insisted, rallying fast.
‘Maybe,’ Xavier agreed, his voice rising over hers. ‘But why the hell should you?’
His outburst, accompanied by a frustrated move of stiff, angry fingers through his hair, surprised them both. They stood in silence for a moment beside the closed passenger door of the truck. Then, leaning across her, Xavier opened it and gestured with a curt dip of his head that she should climb inside.
‘I’m allowed to open doors for you once in a while,’ he growled as Sophie moved past him. ‘I promise not to take it as a sign of weakness if you let me.’
When they reached the clinic everywhere was silent and deserted, and the only light came from a watery moon half hidden in cloud. Unlocking the door, Xavier flicked on the light switches and ushered her inside.
‘I’ll show you where everything is tomorrow,’ he said, taking her straight through to the bedroom. ‘Have you brought any night clothes with you?’
‘I brought my new clothes from the ranch.’
‘Great,’ Xavier murmured to himself. ‘A silk negligée and a flimsy slip of a nightgown—’
Bought for seduction? Sophie thought, while Xavier gave her the distinct impression there would be no use for them now.
‘I should have an old T-shirt you can have,’ he said, confirming her thoughts. ‘And tomorrow I’ll have your rucksack and the rest of your things brought up here from base.’
He paused with his hand up on the doorframe. ‘Do you need anything else before I turn in?’
Yes, you. Sophie held her breath as his lips moved in the shadow of a smile. She was determined to conquer the fear. She would not allow it to rule her life. Xavier wouldn’t touch her tonight—maybe he never would again. Normally she could feel his sexual intentions coming off him in waves—they lapped around her, crashed over her—but right now, the tide was out. ‘You mentioned a T-shirt.’
He dipped his head briefly, acknowledging her request, and then backed out of the door.
One more chance, Sophie thought, taking a deep, steadying breath. Picturing the two of them naked, filling the small room with the sounds of passion, made her ache for him all the more. If she didn’t take the initiative she was destined to spend the night alone…the rest of her time in Peru alone. Sophie gave a low, hollow laugh—the rest of her life alone.
‘I’ll leave the T-shirt out here for you on the hook. Call me if you need anything more.’
Sophie came alert immediately, but the door had already closed behind him again.
Getting off the bed, she reached an arm through a crack in the door, felt around and retrieved the T-shirt. Predictably, it drowned her. Fluffing out her hair and moistening her lips, she arranged herself in what she hoped was an attractive pose, cross-legged on the narrow bed, and then called him back in. She had almost given up on him getting back to her at all when the door swung open.
‘I’ve got something for you,’ he said, remaining half in and half out of the room.
‘Come in, I’m quite decent—’ For now.
Xavier moved a little deeper into the confined space but, crucially, he left the door open.
‘Brr… Don’t you feel a draught?’ Sophie hinted.
‘Not particularly.’ His lips tugged down in a negative.
‘So. What have you got for me?’ She wasn’t good at this, Sophie realised. The sultry voice might work for some women—but not for her!
‘Just this,’ Xavier said, appearing not to notice any change in her behaviour.
In fact, he’d barely looked at her once since coming into the room, she registered. If she was going to get this seduction off the ground at all, she was going to have to try a lot harder. Then he handed her a small, battery-powered lantern.
‘It’s just a night-light, in case you need it.’
Oh, great! This was worse than she had thought. Now he was treating her like a child. Words of thanks for the night-light stalled on her lips as he stretched out a hand towards her.
‘Why did you cut your hair?’ He pushed one of the annoying strands off her face and even that was enough to induce a shower of sensation.
‘My first year at med school… There was no time—’
‘Too bad,’ he cut in softly. ‘I liked it long. You should grow it again.’
Sophie’s emotions surged on to a new level. She tried not to notice how strong his arms were beneath the shading of dark hair, or to see the muscles working beneath the broad black leather wristband he wore in memory of his brother, or hear the rhythmical stroke of his watch as it counted down the seconds to the moment he’d leave—if she didn’t make a move. She had no idea how he would react. His very masculine appetites were in no doubt, but his pride was something else. Xavier had made his move on her, and she had rejected him once…twice…too many times, that was for sure.
Anticipation was bearing down on every part of her like countless stroking, teasing fingers. His voice was so soft…so soft and seductive…and she was seduced. She moistened her lips. The only thing missing now was Xavier’s active participation in the seduction. She had to let him know—show him that he must forget what had happened between them earlier. But what to do, and when—how to do it? Fast…slow…now? Should she reach for the buttons on his shirt? She felt her heart begin to dance around in her chest as she prepared to make her move. But then he made it easy for her—tucking some hair behind her ear as she looked up at him. Reaching for his hand, Sophie caught hold of it and, bringing it to her lips, she quite deliberately drew it lower, encouraging Xavier to nurse her breast through the fabric of his old T-shirt. He took control immediately, his thumb finding the erect and highly sensitised nipple tip, while his fingers moulded the generous curves appreciatively. But he was still standing—that was wrong, surely. Drawing Xavier with her, Sophie slowly sank back on to the thin pillows.
With a growl of triumph, he lay at her side, capturing her neglected breast in one strong hand while his mouth closed over the painfully extended nipple of the first through the fine cotton fabric. Sophie bucked involuntarily as his warm, moist breath coaxed every one of her nerve-endings to the surface of her pale, delicate skin. And then his firm lips increased her pleasure, bringing her nipple deep into his hot mouth to be rolled and stroked by his tongue.
And now she was shuddering, trembling, moaning, every part of her suffused with feeling. The places he touched were only centres of sensation—sensation that drowned her body in thought-robbing waves. It was a barrage of sensation she had no idea how to withstand. Xavier’s free hand was meshed in the hair at the back of her head, his fingers controlling, strong, and demanding—and when he finally dragged himself away from her breast and moved up the bed towards her, his eyes were blazing with passion and…
‘No!’
She cried out just that one word, but it divided them like a whiplash. In the space of a heartbeat she was off the bed and pressed up against the wall, arms lashed around her body for protection. The small size of the room meant she could only get a foot or two away from him. It had to be enough—it was as far as she could get.
Xavier’s powerful body coiled, sprang and straightened in practically the same instant. And now he was towering over her, taking all the light, all the space, all the air. They were inches apart, but it might have been miles. Sophie could see nothing in his face but anger and contempt.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he raged.
But, as his fists shot out on either side of her he
ad to pin her to the wall, she let out a wounded cry and sank down on to the floor at his feet, covering her head with her arms in terror.
‘Sophie?’
His voice seemed to come from far away and was little more than a whisper.
‘Sophie,’ he said again, hunkering down on the floor in front of her. ‘Sophie, what is it?’ He wouldn’t touch her—not yet.
He wouldn’t touch her ever again, Sophie thought, certain she was right.
She was so pale. She had to be exhausted, Xavier reasoned—though she was doing a great impression of being terrified. Maybe she wasn’t acting! However incredible it seemed to him, there was always the possibility that she really didn’t know what to do—and for some reason expected to be punished for her lack of experience. The thought sickened him. Could she be frightened of him? he wondered incredulously. His whole psyche flinched as he turned the possibility over in his mind. He couldn’t even entertain the thought. Frightening women was for bullies—inadequates. Looking at her again, he felt a sudden and totally unexpected rush of tenderness. But he couldn’t afford to let her in—to let anyone in—and Sophie Ford, of all people? Chipping away at his heart until it was mush for her to trample over? No thank you. And wouldn’t that be a great gift for his mother? Look who I’ve brought to see you, Mama. No way!
He looked at her again, really looked at her—and this time with the eyes of a physician. She had a deep-seated problem, all right, somewhere in her past. Xavier frowned as he mulled it over. He had encountered physical symptoms before that had their roots in some hidden cause. It seemed to him as if Sophie was serving her own life sentence—for what, he didn’t know yet, but he would find out. Maybe she just got tired of being a player—and that was something he could understand, Xavier mused cynically. He was getting soft, he told himself, dragging his gaze away from her. ‘I’ll get you something,’ he said, standing up again. ‘Something to help you sleep. Why don’t you get back into bed.’
‘Yes. Thank you,’ Sophie managed evenly, hearing the doctor in his voice. She waited until the door shut behind him and then got to her feet and climbed into bed.
Xavier brought her some warm milk to go with the night-light, and tried to keep a healthy dose of cynicism at the forefront of his mind as he gave it to her. Was the ice around his heart melting? he wondered as he watched her—hands wrapped around the mug as she drank, face burrowed into it. His lips tugged down in a sardonic half-smile. Or was this life’s finest irony? When there should have only been space for revenge in his heart, had Sophie Ford discovered an empty corner and claimed it as her own? ‘Ah, what the hell,’ he murmured under his breath and, leaning over, he impulsively brushed a kiss against her forehead. To seduce her, enjoy her and discard her before their relationship could cause any damage depended on Sophie playing along—and, quite suddenly, he wasn’t so sure of anything as far as Sophie Ford was concerned.
On his way out of the door Xavier stopped. He was getting soft, he realised grimly, catching sight of the photograph of Sophie’s mother she had found time to tuck inside the frame of the mirror. She’d only been in the room five minutes, and already she was sticking up photographs of her family—would her father’s be next?
