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‘Sexist pig.’
‘Simple truth.’
‘I see you still live in the Dark Ages.’
‘Only when it comes to protecting what’s mine.’
Realising he wasn’t going to go away, she shrugged. ‘Fine. Knock yourself out.’
His gaze sharpened. ‘No arguments, querida? That’s how it works between us usually, isn’t it? I say something, then you argue my words to death until I kiss you to shut you up?’
‘I don’t crave arguments—or your kisses, if that’s what you’re implying. In fact I’d love nothing better than for you to leave me alone,’ she suggested. ‘You’ve managed it quite successfully for almost a week.’
Silently he held out his hand. She slapped the wrench into his palm. With a few firm twists he loosened the bolt on the axle.
‘Show-off,’ she quipped. ‘What do you want?’
‘I thought you’d want an update on Rafael.’ His gaze stayed intense on hers.
‘I thought he was off-limits?’
‘If I still believed you and he were involved I wouldn’t have taken you to my bed.’
‘Okay. So how is he?’
‘He’s doing better. The doctors managed to stop the bleed. They expect him to wake up any day now.’
Licking her lips carefully, she nodded. ‘That’s great news.’
‘Sí.’
The intensity in his eyes sent a bolt of apprehension through her. Without warning, his gaze dropped to her lips. Belatedly Sasha realised she was licking them. She stopped. But the quickening was already happening. The cramped space underneath the car became smaller. The air grew thinner.
‘You didn’t have to come back here to tell me that. A simple phone call would’ve sufficed. I’ll pack my things and leave this afternoon.’
He stiffened. ‘Why would you do that?’
‘Rafael will need you when he comes home. I can’t be here.’
‘Of course you can. I want you here.’
Despite the thin hope threading its way through her, she forced herself to speak. ‘That wasn’t the impression I got from your six-day silence.’
He sucked in a weary breath and for the first time she noticed the lines of strain around his eyes.
‘I didn’t expect to be away this long. I’m sorry.’
When her mouth dropped open in surprise at the ready apology he grimaced.
‘I know. I must be losing my touch.’ He glanced around, his strained look intensifying. ‘How did you get in here? The door is combination locked.’
‘Rosario let me in. She recognises stir-craziness when she sees it. So—twenty-five vintage cars locked away in a garage? Discuss.’
He inhaled sharply, then flung the wrench away. ‘I refuse to have this conversation underneath a car, with grease dripping on me.’
‘You should’ve thought of that before you crawled down here.’
‘Dios, I’ve missed your insufferable attitude.’ He paused. ‘This is your chance to tell me you’ve missed me too.’
