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‘Just about anyone, really.’ She slid her feet into her shoes. ‘My father. The dealer who sold us the coffee. But everyone has conveniently vanished. I suppose you could say that the rats are leaving the sinking ship.’ She stared into the jungle and he thought he caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes. But then she turned to look at him and her smile was bright. ‘My fault for being so trusting.’
She just wouldn’t let it drop.
He stared at her with exasperation, wondering whether she really thought he believed any of her elaborate excuses. Not for one moment did he think she’d even tried to phone anyone. Why would she, when she was already in possession of all the answers? ‘They could just be out.’
She nodded, apparently not picking up on the irony in his voice. ‘I expect that’s it.’ Her eyes were tired and her tone formal, designed to keep him at a distance. For some reason that he couldn’t identify, that distance annoyed him.
Suddenly he didn’t care whether she was innocent or guilty. He just wanted her in his bed. As far as he was concerned, the rest of it was irrelevant.
So she was greedy and self-seeking—what woman wasn’t?
‘Shall we just change the subject?’ he suggested helpfully, giving her permission to drop the act. He felt nothing but relief when she nodded.
‘Yes. We’re not going to discuss this again.’ Her voice was firm and her chin was held at an angle that he was beginning to recognise signalled determination. ‘The problem is no longer yours. I think that’s one fact that we have managed to confirm.’
Finally, they were getting somewhere. ‘Forget your business,’ he purred, deciding that some reinforcement wouldn’t go amiss. ‘Move on in life. Do something else.’
‘Oh, no—I couldn’t possibly do that. It wouldn’t be right. There are too many people depending on me and if I just give up, they’re affected too.’ She tilted her head to one side and shook it slightly, allowing her hair to fall in a damp mass over her shoulder. Then she twisted it into a thick rope, squeezing out the water with her hands. ‘So I’m not going to give up. I’m going to find out who is guilty and try and recover the money. After that I’m going to apply for another loan, pay back Carlos and Filomena and carry on with my business.’
Frustrated that she was still trying to shift the blame onto someone else and totally bored by all talk of cafés and coffee when what he really wanted to do was drag her against him and taste her mouth again, Rafael decided that there was only one way to move the conversation forward to his satisfaction. ‘I’ll extend the loan,’ he said smoothly. ‘That way you can carry on playing cafés as long as you like.’
She paused but then shook her head. ‘No, but thank you. It’s a very generous offer.’
Not generous, Rafael thought, gritting his teeth. Selfish. He wanted her mind off her wretched business and onto something more worthy. Him. His eyes lingered on her mouth and he struggled to concentrate. ‘It’s my money. Giving it away is my choice.’
‘And refusing is mine.’ Her voice was soft. ‘I don’t want your money. In the circumstances it wouldn’t feel right.’
As far as he was concerned there was only one thing that would feel right at that particular moment and it involved both of them naked on silk sheets. The reason for her presence here, the fraud, the deception, all of it had ceased to matter to him.
‘In that case, let’s agree to just drop the whole subject,’ he agreed, glancing upwards with a frown. ‘It will be dark in about ten minutes. We need to get back. You’ll need time to change for dinner.’
‘Oh, no—’ With a cry of anxiety she bent down and picked up the dress that she’d laid on the rock. ‘It’s muddy. I must have splashed it when I was swimming.’
Rafael stared at her with a distinct lack of comprehension.
‘And?’
‘And it’s all I have to wear!’ She gave the dress a little shake and sighed. ‘My combat trousers are wet and muddy, this is wet and muddy—’
‘So it’s naked, then,’ Rafael suggested in a slow drawl, watching as the colour bloomed in her cheeks. ‘I’ll have to wear my suit …’
Struggling against the temptation to point out that clothes were largely irrelevant because he didn’t intend her to stay dressed for long, Rafael took her arm and urged her down the path. ‘Maria will find you a dress. Now move, or you might find that you’re someone else’s dinner.’
Grace sat on the edge of her bed, trying to stop worrying long enough to dress for dinner.
Had she been wrong to turn down his offer of financial help?
It was all very well having high standards, but what if no one else would loan her the money she needed? Those standards of hers would cost people their jobs.
Trying to rouse herself from her state of anxiety, Grace stared at the dress that Maria had delivered moments earlier.
It shimmered and shone, changing colour with the light, one moment pale turquoise and the next silver. It was, quite simply, the most exotic, beautiful dress she’d ever seen.
Not even wanting to think about the person it had originally belonged to, she slid it over her head, grimacing slightly as it clung to her hips.
Whoever had chosen this dress had been skinnier than she was, she thought ruefully, sliding the fabric over her hips and wondering whether it was actually going to be too tight. Assuring herself that it was a style that was supposed to cling, she turned sideways to look at herself in the mirror.
It was a dress designed to turn an ordinary woman into a film star, a dress designed for sin and seduction, and just wearing it put a smile on her lips.
