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‘Loving!’ Sophie made a sound of contempt. ‘You accuse me of sleeping around and talk about loving! There’s been no one before you, and there’ll certainly be no one after you. I’ve had enough of men for—’ Something in his eyes made her stop. They were storm-dark with pride as he let her go.
‘I have never accused you of sleeping around,’ he said quietly, ‘but I couldn’t help but observe how keen you were to get back here to Henry—’
‘I was in quite a hurry to get back here to see what I could do to help,’ Sophie pointed out frankly.
Xavier made an elegant gesture with his hands, inviting her to continue, but Sophie turned her head away. ‘I thought we had something,’ she admitted softly, ‘something really special. I was so stupid I even thought we meant something to each other—’ She heard a break in her voice and stopped. For a few moments she didn’t trust herself to speak. ‘And then I heard that woman laughing—’ Her throat felt bruised and dry as she fell silent.
‘Have you finished now?’ Xavier asked calmly.
‘With you?’ Sophie demanded tensely. ‘Yes, I have.’
Why did that hurt? She was used to fighting her corner, not crumpling in defeat—was that why it hurt so much? She whipped her head away when he came a step closer.
‘Is it my turn to speak now?’
‘Please yourself,’ she said, refusing to look at him.
‘You heard a woman laughing somewhere in the background during our last phone call in Lima, right? Answer me, Sophie,’ he insisted, catching hold of her chin and turning her to face him. ‘That’s why you stormed out of the hotel and caught the first flight you could back here. Well?’ he demanded harshly. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘I know what I heard,’ Sophie said tensely, dodging the spear of his gaze, ‘so don’t even try to deny it, Xavier.’
‘I wasn’t about to.’
When she looked at him now her eyes had turned as cold as the blue water they had swum through in the mountain lake. ‘Go on,’ Sophie pressed through lips that felt like card-board. She was filled with a need to have it over with and filled with dread, all in the same agonising moment.
‘There was a woman in the room with me, laughing,’ Xavier admitted. ‘And no wonder she was happy—’
Suddenly Sophie knew she didn’t want to hear it. ‘Stop. Please stop,’ she said, cutting him off.
‘No,’ Xavier said quietly. ‘I won’t stop. You have to hear this, Sophie, because I was with my mother. She was laughing because she had just concluded a very useful meeting with the President that will enable her to open a second luxury lodge downriver from Rancho del Condor. She was even happier when I told her that I was in love with you.’
‘Your mother?’ Sophie whispered, trying to take everything in.
‘That’s right, Sophie,’ Xavier confirmed evenly, ‘my mother. So perhaps now you would like to tell me why you came back here alone without giving me the chance to explain?’
‘I saw the note—from her… I thought—’
‘I don’t think you did think,’ Xavier interrupted coldly. ‘If you had, you would have realised that I could coordinate the rescue mission far more successfully from Lima than I could from here.’
He loved her. Xavier had told his mother that he loved her… Hot and cold torrents raced through her veins as Sophie confronted the damage she had done to their relationship. ‘I thought you were with the television presenter—and that’s why you stayed so long in Lima.’
‘I had work to do,’ Xavier said flatly. ‘As for being with anyone other than you—’
His eyes darkened with passion, making her remember that they had scarcely been apart for a moment except for when something to do with his work briefly intervened.
Sophie stared numbly at the damaged truck. She was good at breaking things.
‘I want no one but you,’ Xavier said fiercely, breaking into her thoughts, ‘though sometimes I have to ask myself why. Come here,’ he said, holding out his hand to her as he tried not to smile. ‘We’re going to need a ramp to get out of here.’
He held up his hand when she started to speak. ‘Did you hear something?’
‘No,’ Sophie said, staying still for a moment, ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Yes,’ Xavier insisted, steering his gaze into the trees. ‘I can hear people talking… Stay here,’ he said when Sophie made a move to join him. ‘I don’t need any more excitement.’
Perhaps he was right, perhaps there had been enough excitement for one day, Sophie conceded—for both of them. ‘I’ll wait. Don’t be long.’
‘I’ll be straight back.’
While Xavier was gone Sophie distracted herself by collecting logs. But she looked up with relief when he came back. He was accompanied by a group of local villagers.
‘They’ll help us,’ he said, ‘but the light’s nearly gone and there’s not much more we can do until tomorrow. They’re heading back to their village, and we’ve been invited to spend the night with them.’
‘What did you say?’
‘I said thank you. We don’t have much choice—unless you want to spend the night here in the truck?’
‘The village sounds really great,’ Sophie admitted with a grin, dropping the logs she had been carrying behind the back wheels.
‘Leave that now,’ Xavier told her. ‘We have to follow them—and they’re in a hurry. There’s a celebration in the village.’
‘A celebration?’
‘Full moon,’ he said, pointing skywards. ‘Fertility rites—a fiesta.’
‘Which is it?’ Sophie demanded, feeling her heart begin to race.
‘Both,’ Xavier drawled softly. ‘Now’s the time to change your mind if you don’t want to come with me, Sophie.’ He held out his hand and, grasping it, Sophie smiled up at him.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
IT WAS like being transported back thousands of years, Sophie thought as they approached the clearing where the ceremony was taking place. The primal rhythms, the colour and the haunting music, together with the heavy pall of incense overlaying everything, was like nothing she had ever experienced before. It was heady and sensuous…but while her attention had been captured by the colourful ritual she noticed Xavier’s attention was focused on her face—and he was trying not to laugh!
‘What?’ Then she remembered she was nine parts mud to one part clean, and began swiping at her face with the back of her hand. ‘OK, so I’m not dressed for a wedding.’
‘You look great to me,’ Xavier insisted roughly, removing some twigs from her hair.
‘I do?’
&n
bsp; ‘Pay attention,’ he murmured, dragging her in front of him so that she could see what was happening.
But Sophie couldn’t pay attention. She was hardly aware of anything other than the fact that she was pressed up hard against his chest, and it felt warm and right, and she could remember how it felt beneath her hands as clearly as if she was running them over him.
She grew alert again as a young man and woman as well as some elders of the village entered the clearing. They were all fabulously clothed and walked with the sinuous grace their centuries-old heritage had bestowed upon them. An air of erotic expectation hovered around the young couple, adding to Sophie’s heightened senses. It was as if the drama in front of her melded with Xavier’s charismatic presence at her back.
An impressively tall man conducted the ceremony. His long black hair was crowned with a headdress of feathers. Carrying a staff of office in his hand, he wore a breastplate and leg armour harking back to some lost age, but made of stiff fabric rather than metal. His costume was richly decorated in blues, red and gold. The crimson and gold train that fell from his shoulders was borne by two younger men wearing floor length cloaks and feather headdresses. Behind them another carried a staff the height of two men, heavily ornamented with feathers—and heavy to carry too, Sophie deduced, judging by the grim expression on his face.
‘Perhaps he’s a thwarted suitor,’ Xavier murmured in her ear.
As he dipped his head to whisper Sophie felt another loop of tremors bind itself around her dangerously sensitised body. ‘Reading my mind,’ she suggested softly.
The young couple were swaying slightly now in rhythm with some muffled drumbeats and the slanted glances they exchanged were full of awareness. The young girl’s lightly dressed form was clearly visible beneath her ornate cloak as she moved, and her partner’s toned torso showed the same bronzed, oiled perfection beneath his wedding regalia.
‘What do you think of the clothes?’ Xavier murmured softly.
‘Lack of them, do you mean?’ Sophie whispered back, turning her head a little. Their faces were so close…they were so close. Sensation was spinning a net of desire around her that made her want to sink right into it and forget everything else. She wanted Xavier to lower her down on to the soft ground so that she could yield to the rhythm of the drums throbbing through her.
