‘Oh, dear! You will be careful, won’t you, Lucy? I’ve heard reports that suggested Santiago can be ruthless. I’d not given much credence to them, since successful men tend to engender jealousy and his reputation here is … well, I’ve never heard anyone have a bad word to say. Yet given what you’ve said …?’
Lucy smiled. ‘I’ll be fine.’
DESPITE the fact she had been a successful model, Lucy had never been obsessed by fashion. This was not to say she didn’t like clothes. Her lifestyle now meant comfort was the order of the day; heels were not much good when you were mucking out the stables! However, there were occasions when she got tired of her androgynous work clothes and sensible shoes and then she’d open the wardrobe and spend an hour or so parading around her bedroom in some of the clothes she had kept from her previous life.
It wasn’t so much that she missed being a clothes horse, because she didn’t; it was more she missed being, well … a woman!
And now, feeling the silky swish of a dress that had come from the designer in question’s famous ‘Marilyn Collection’—a gift, he’d said, because she had made him wish he were straight—Lucy had to admit the bright red dress really did do some amazing things for her figure, making her waist look tiny and her curves look lush.
She brushed her hands down the bodice and glanced in the mirror. The figure-hugging cut made the fabric cling to the long lines of her thighs when she moved. The effect was sexy and provocative, which seemed appropriate when what she wanted to do was provoke! Her anger felt strange when she’d spent the last four years trying to play down her looks and blend in.
An image of Santiago Silva’s autocratic dark features formed in her head and the beginnings of doubt faded. Pursing her lips, Lucy gave her reflection a nod. The look was exactly what she wanted. Now, she told herself, was not the time for doubts.
‘Wow, you look …’ Ramon swallowed ‘… different.’
She arched a brow and, closing the door, followed him across the yard. ‘Different good or different bad?’ she teased.
Ramon laughed and opened the door to his low-slung car. ‘Oh, definitely good, but it’s lucky you didn’t look like that the first time I saw you.’
‘Why?’ Lucy was curious.
‘Because I wouldn’t have dared approach you. You look way out of my league tonight, Lucy.’
‘I’m still me.’ Lucy felt uneasy, Ramon’s appreciation bordering on reverence.
The sense of anticipation and righteous indignation she had begun the journey with began to fade by the time they reached the massive gates of the Silva estancia, replaced by a growing sense of unease and guilt.
What the hell was she doing? This was a crazy idea! She glanced towards Ramon and thought, Not just crazy—cruel. In her determination to score points off the awful brother she had not paused to consider the consequences of her actions. Not for one second had she considered the hurt she might be inflicting on the nice brother.
The sense of shame grew until she couldn’t bear it another second.
‘I can’t,’ she muttered under her breath as she reached for her seat belt. ‘Stop!’
Ramon responded to the shrill screech and hit the brake, jerking Lucy, who had freed herself from the belt, into the windscreen.
‘Madre mia, are you all right?’
Lucy rubbed her head and leaned back in the seat. ‘Fine,’ she said, dismissing his concern with a shake of her head and then regretting it, she had the start of a headache.
‘What’s wrong?’ Ramon cast a questioning look at her tense profile. ‘I could have slowed down, all you had to do was ask,’ he joked lightly as he wound down the window. ‘That was quite a bang you took.’
‘It’s nothing.’
‘So, other than my driving, what’s the problem?’
Lucy looked at Ramon and read concern in his handsome face. She bit her lip, feeling more guilty than ever. She took a deep breath. There was no way she could continue with the charade so it was best to come clean now.
‘No, I’m not all right—I’m a total bitch!’ Not as much of a bitch as Santiago Silva thought she was, but it was a close thing.
Ramon looked annoyingly unconvinced by her emotional claim.
‘When I rang you it wasn’t … it was a mistake. I’m sorry. I know I let you believe, but the—I’m not interested in you that way …’
Ramon did not display the shock she had anticipated. ‘I did wonder … So, you don’t fancy me?’
She flashed him a grateful look and shook her head slowly. ‘I really am sorry.’
‘Are you sure you don’t fancy me?’
This drew a laugh from Lucy, who begged, ‘Please don’t be nice to me! I feel awful enough as it is.’
‘Relax, I’ll survive. It’s not as though I haven’t been knocked back before …’ He paused and grinned. ‘Actually I haven’t. I’m wondering why …?’
She shook her head.
As Ramon sat there looking at her in silence for the first time she saw some family resemblance, a likeness to his brother, not so much in the individual features, more the tilt of his head and his hairline … hairline! She frowned. She had only met him the once and the encounter had lasted minutes but weirdly the details of Santiago Silva’s face were burned into her brain.
‘So why did you ring me and say you’d changed your mind?’
‘I was angry and I wanted to punish.’
‘Me?’
‘No, of course not. The thing is I met your brother and he—he made me mad.’
‘Santiago made you mad …?’ Ramon echoed in astonishment.
Ramon saw the anger in her sparkling expressive eyes before she tipped her head tightly. ‘Yes.’ He grew curious. This was not the usual impression his brother made on women.
‘When did you meet Santiago? What did he do?’
Lucy rolled down her window and took a gulp of fresh night air redolent of pine. ‘I met him yesterday and then again this morning …’ For a split second she considered telling him the truth, but held back. What was it about that wretched man that turned her into some sort of petty vengeful cow?
It wasn’t as if people had not thought and said worse about her. Why had his assumption got to her this way? Just thinking about him made her skin prickle.
‘It … it was something and nothing, really,’ she admitted, rubbing her arms as if she could rub away the memory. ‘He recognised me yesterday. You don’t know, but a few years ago I—’
‘Oh, the super-injunction stuff, you mean.’
Lucy stared at him in astonishment. ‘You know about that?’
Ramon, who was adjusting his tie in the rear-view mirror, turned his head and looked amused. ‘Of course I know about it, Lucy.’
‘But how?’
He waved his mobile phone at her. ‘I punched in your name, though actually,’ he admitted, ‘I was checking out your age on the off chance … not that I have a problem with an older woman,’ he added quickly. ‘In fact, but well, never mind. Imagine