A Taste of the Forbidden

by Carole Mortimer

  Grace had absolutely no idea what the elderly woman had said in reply to Cesar’s greeting, but her smile and the pleasure glowing in the darkness of her eyes clearly showed her warmth of regard for her employer.

  ‘Maria, this is Miss Grace Blake. My housekeeper, Maria Sanchez.’ Cesar was still smiling as he turned to make the introductions. ‘No,’ he said stiffly as the housekeeper asked a question, adding something else dismissively in Spanish.

  Grace looked at him enquiringly even as she shook hands with the older woman.

  His mouth twisted derisively. ‘Maria enquired if you would be sharing my bedroom suite. Obviously I have assured her you will not,’ he added dryly as Grace blushed her discomfort.

  He had said a lot more than that, Grace knew, no doubt informing the older woman that, like Maria, she was just another employee.

  No, not even like the smiling Maria, Grace acknowledged ruefully; Cesar treated the elderly woman with obvious affection, whereas she seemed to irritate him more often than not.

  ‘I can easily make up a bed for myself in one of the bedrooms if that would be less trouble for Maria,’ Grace offered huskily.

  ‘That will not be necessary. The guests suites are always prepared and available for use.’ Cesar turned to say something else to his housekeeper in Spanish before turning back to Grace. ‘I have some work to do now, but Maria will take you to the green guest suite and then show you to the kitchen. Raphael will arrive shortly with your luggage and the things you need to prepare for this evening’s meal.’

  ‘What time would you like to eat dinner?’

  He frowned slightly. ‘My guests will arrive about eight-thirty, so nine o’clock, if that suits you?’

  ‘That’s fine.’

  ‘It has been a long night, and as this evening will also be late, I suggest you take advantage of a siesta this afternoon.’ He nodded to Grace dismissively before turning on his heel and striding down the hallway to the right of the entrance hall.

  Grace’s legs still felt slightly shaky from that incident in the lift as she followed Maria down the hallway to the green suite, so much so that she wasn’t even overwhelmed this time by the opulence of the bedroom overlooking the park, or the luxurious cream and gold bathroom adjoining it, which Maria informed her in halting English was her own private bathroom.

  What would she have done if Cesar had actually carried out his unspoken threat and kissed her?

  She would have kissed him right back, came the unequivocal answer.

  And no doubt enjoyed every moment of it...

  Where was the practical Beth when she needed her?

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU are doing?’

  It wasn’t so much a question as a cold and disapproving statement, Grace acknowledged with a wince as she cracked open one eyelid and found herself looking up at a grim-faced Cesar Navarro as he loomed over where she lay in the sunshine beneath a huge palm tree, the grass warm beneath her. ‘Relaxing?’

  ‘You could have done that in the apartment,’ he grated harshly. ‘In fact, I believe I said as much earlier when I suggested you take a siesta.’

  ‘That’s right, Cesar, you suggested I take a siesta.’ Grace sat up slightly to lean back on her elbows as she looked up at him, not at all reassured by the grim accusation in his harshly hewn face, those black eyes glittering, his hands clenched beside his denim clad thighs. ‘And I did try resting in the apartment once I had showered and changed and all the preparations were finished for this evening. I just found it impossible to fall asleep in the middle of the day, with the sun shining outside.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘I’m English, Cesar, and as such I’ve never taken an afternoon siesta in my life.’

  ‘So you decided to come out here to the park instead!’ Again it was an accusation rather than a question.

  Grace sighed. ‘I believe I’ve already had this conversation once with Raphael.’ She gave a pointed glance to where she could see the other man standing alert and watchful in the shadows of the trees twenty or so feet away. ‘He didn’t approve of my going out for a walk, either.’ She wrinkled her nose at the conversation she’d had with the bodyguard before leaving the apartment.

  ‘But you came, anyway.’ His voice was dangerously soft.

  ‘Obviously.’ Grace had been unable to resist the lure of the park across from Cesar’s apartment once she had looked out of the window of her bedroom, its lush greenness beckoning after the hours she had spent on the aeroplane to get here. ‘And just as obviously Raphael chose to come running to you about it,’ she added with another disgusted glance at the other man.

  Cesar stiffened. ‘He reported your movements to me, yes.’

  Grace sighed. ‘I had assumed, from what you said earlier, that I was allowed a couple of hours to myself before I need to cook dinner this evening?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  She nodded. ‘And I chose to spend those hours sitting in the park.’

  ‘You could have looked at the park from the windows of the apartment.’

  ‘I didn’t fly all this way to look at Buenos Aires through a window!’ She gave an impatient shake of her head. ‘You just don’t get it, do you, Cesar? It’s a beautiful sunny day, there’s a park just across the road from your apartment—why wouldn’t I want to come outside and breathe in the fresh air and explore a little?’

  ‘Because it is not safe.’

  ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake!’ Grace sat up fully to wrap her arms about her bent knees as she glared up at him. ‘It’s a public park, full of people walking their dogs, and couples and families enjoying themselves. Which is what I was also doing until a few minutes ago,’ she added wearily.

  His nostrils flared. ‘Until I arrived.’

  ‘Yes.’ Not that Grace hadn’t been expecting something like this; Raphael had made his disapproval of her plans more than obvious earlier, and she had seen him talking into his radio as he followed her across to the park, no doubt informing Cesar Navarro of exactly where she was going. ‘You do know how ridiculous all of this is, don’t you?’

  Cesar’s breath left him in a hiss, a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw as he stared down at her in frustration. ‘You have no idea what you are talking about.’

  ‘No?’ She arched one sable brow.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then explain it to me?’

  His eyes glittered down at her. ‘No.’

  ‘This is just ridiculous.’ She gave a helpless shake of her head. ‘I doubt Fort Knox is as heavily guarded as you are! That’s your choice, of course, but I draw the line at having my own movements curtailed in the same way yours are. Look around you, Cesar.’ Her eyes glowed with pleasure as she did exactly that. ‘It’s beautiful here, peaceful and relaxing. Don’t you ever take the time off from working to just sit back and smell the roses?’

  His mouth twisted derisively. ‘There are no roses where you are sitting.’

  She shot him a reproving glance with those blue-green eyes. ‘You pedant. You know exactly what I meant!’

  Yes, he did, but the structure of Cesar’s life did not allow for sitting back and smelling the roses; how could it, when he had an international business empire to run?

  Something he had found impossible to continue doing once informed by his Head of Security that Grace Blake had refused to remain in the apartment when advised to do so, and had instead gone outside for a walk in the park opposite! ‘You will return to the apartment with me now.’ He held out his hand with the intention of helping her to her sandalled feet.

  A hand she ignored as she instead rested her chin on her bent knees and stared off into the distance. ‘I think,’ she said slowly, ‘that once we get back to England, you should ask Kevin Maddox to find a replacement for me as quickly as possible.’

  Cesar’s brows rose as he allowed his hand to fall back to his side. ‘You are terminating your employment with me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Because I am concerned for yo
ur safety?’

  ‘No.’ Tears swam in those blue-green eyes as she looked up at him, her sable hair falling silkily over her shoulders and down her back. ‘I’m terminating my employment with you because I can’t live like this.’ Her voice was husky.

  ‘You—’

  ‘I feel like I’m being suffocated, Cesar!’ she told him emotionally. ‘Like that bird in a gilded cage—although in this case, it’s obviously a pure gold one, with every luxury catered for. Except freedom.’ She gave another shake of her head. ‘How do you live like this, Cesar? Why do you live like this?’

  Cesar stared down at her wordlessly for several long seconds, his frustration with her stubbornness warring with the need he felt to erase the bewilderment from Grace’s expression and the tears from those beautiful sea-green eyes. ‘As you said, it was a long flight here, you have not rested, and you are obviously overtired.’

  ‘Oh, I’m way beyond tired,’ she assured him heavily. ‘I just want to get this month’s employment over with and then go home. To my home. In London.’ She turned her face away from him as she rested her cheek against her bent knees.

  Cesar felt a painful jolt in his chest as he saw the slenderness of her shoulders shaking. ‘Grace, are you crying?’

  ‘No.’ She sniffled.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Yes,’ she conceded with a throaty sob.

  Cesar dropped down onto his knees on the grass beside her before taking her in his arms and holding the stiffness of her body against his chest. ‘There is no reason to cry, Grace,’ he groaned as he rested his cheek against the top of her head, allowing him to breathe in the fragrance of silky dark hair.

  ‘Of course there is,’ she said with another sniffle.

  ‘And why is that?’ His fingers gently stroked the long length of that sable darkness.

  Why? Grace wondered achingly. So many reasons, both logical and illogical, that she didn’t know where to start. But first and foremost was that, illogically, she didn’t really want to stop working for Cesar, that she actually enjoyed their verbal exchanges, enjoyed him. At least, she enjoyed those all too few brief moments when she succeeded in getting beneath the cool remoteness that he wore like a cloak over his emotions.

  At the same time as she knew, logically, that she hated every moment of being constantly watched, by Raphael and his security team, as well as all those security cameras. So much so that she really was starting to feel suffocated by it all.

  ‘Raphael is watching,’ she reminded him gruffly.

  ‘Not this time,’ Cesar assured her dryly.

  She raised her head to look across to where Raphael had been standing, only to find that the other man was nowhere in sight. ‘Where did he go?’

  ‘I dismissed him when you began to cry.’

  ‘I bet he was thrilled about that!’

  ‘No doubt,’ Cesar drawled.

  ‘I—’ She had glanced up at him—and instantly wished that she hadn’t.

  Cesar was much too close. Those sculpted lips were much too close. Mere inches away from her own as Cesar held her against him, the softness of his breath ruffling the tendrils of hair on her forehead as those jet-black eyes looked down into her own.

  At that moment, as far as Grace was concerned, it felt as if there were only the two of them in the park, gazes locked, her breasts crushed against the hardness of Cesar’s chest, the warmth of his hands on her back penetrating the light wool of her blue sweater, their thighs almost but not quite touching.

  She drew in a ragged breath before moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, not knowing what she was going to say, but feeling she had to say something to break the strained—expectant?—tension between them—

  ‘Do not do that!’ Cesar groaned huskily.

  She stilled. ‘Do what?’

  ‘This!’ His head bent and angled slightly so that the moistness of his tongue replaced her own as it swept slowly—arousingly!—across her lips. ‘You have no idea how tempted I have been this past few days to taste you in just this way,’ he murmured gruffly.

  Grace looked up at him with wide eyes as she continued to breathe shallowly. ‘You have?’

  He gave a hard smile. ‘Yes.’

  She struggled to swallow. ‘I didn’t know.’

  Of course she hadn’t known; Cesar had become very adept these last twenty years at hiding, controlling, his emotions, allowing nothing and no one to pierce that control. Except Grace Blake, with her pert outspokenness, and her unusual beauty, had been doing exactly that since the moment they first met.

  To the extent that he had just dismissed his Head of Security and the two of them were now alone together in a very public park!

  He allowed his arms to drop back to his sides before rising abruptly to his feet. ‘It is time to go, Grace.’ He looked down at her beneath hooded lids, not offering his hand this time but thrusting them into the pockets of his denims, not trusting himself in that moment to so much as touch her again when he could still taste the sweetness of her lips on his tongue.

  She blinked before slowly rising to her feet beside him, her gaze no longer meeting his. ‘Before Raphael has a heart attack.’ She made an attempt at her usual dry humour.

  ‘Yes.’ Cesar gave a hard smile of acknowledgement. ‘We will leave discussing the subject of if or when you leave my employment until after we have returned to England.’ It was another statement rather than a question.

  Not that Grace felt in any condition to answer him anyway; her heart was thundering so loudly in her chest she felt sure Cesar must be able to hear it, too, as the two of them walked side by side along the pathway leading back to his apartment.

  Exactly what had happened just now? Had Cesar really been tempted these past few days to run his tongue—that sensuously arousing tongue!—across and between her lips? If he had, it was a temptation—and an admission—he obviously regretted, the handsomeness of his aristocratic face now set in its usual haughtily remote expression when Grace gave him a sideways glance.

  Maybe it hadn’t really happened? Maybe she had imagined—

  No, she hadn’t imagined anything, could still feel the soft rasp of Cesar’s tongue against her lips. Could still taste his minty, spicy flavour on her mouth. Could still feel her response to that intimacy, her nipples pebble hard inside her lacy bra, between her thighs feeling uncomfortably hot and aroused.

  It didn’t help that once they had entered the apartment building and stepped into the lift together Grace instantly found herself remembering earlier today, when the circle of Cesar’s arms had held her prisoner against the glass wall behind her and she had thought he was about to kiss her.

  The cold remoteness of his expression as he stood grimly silent beside her assured Grace that there would be no repeat of that intimacy now. Cesar nodded curt dismissal of her once they were inside his apartment, before striding off down the hallway ahead of the waiting—and obviously grimly disapproving!—Raphael, the other man levelling a dark glower in Grace’s direction before turning sharply on his heel and following their employer.

  A glower that would no doubt have been even more disapproving if Raphael had witnessed his boss taking Grace in his arms before running the moistness of his tongue in a sensually sweeping caress against and between her lips...

  * * *

  ‘Grace, my guests have asked to meet you so that they might express their enjoyment of this evening’s meal.’

  She glanced across the kitchen at Cesar as he stood to one side to allow a smiling Maria to leave the room carrying the tray of coffee things through to the dining-room. Grace’s breath hitched in her throat as she took in his appearance; he looked sinfully, powerfully handsome in his tailored black evening suit, snowy white shirt, and black bow tie, the darkness of his hair thick and glossy against the collar of that shirt.

  It was the first time Grace had seen him since they had parted so abruptly earlier this afternoon. After Grace had told him she didn’t feel she could carry on working fo
r him. When Cesar, after holding her in his arms and running the sensual warmth of his tongue over and against her lips, had walked away from her without so much as a backward glance.

  ‘Your chocolate mousse, as I had expected, was most especially appreciated,’ he added dryly.

  ‘Lucky you.’ Grace gave a tight smile as she removed the apron from about her waist and placed it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, once again wearing her uniform of a white blouse and pencil-slim knee-length skirt, the long length of her hair secured in a plait down her back this evening.

  Cesar stilled, his eyes narrowing. ‘Lucky me?’

  Grace tossed that plait back over her shoulder as she straightened. ‘The last time we spoke on the subject you appeared to think my chocolate mousse had sexual qualities.’

  ‘Yes.’

  She shrugged. ‘Then let’s hope it has set the mood for your female guest.’

  ‘The mood for what?’ Cesar thought he knew where this conversation was going, but he wanted to make sure he hadn’t misunderstood her.

  Grace gave him an exasperated glance. ‘Seduction, of course!’

  ‘Seduction?’ he repeated slowly.

  She nodded abruptly. ‘It is your birthday, after all!’

  Cesar arched one dark brow. ‘And you believe it was my intention to ply my female guest with your chocolate mousse and then seduce her at the end of the evening?’

  She gave a dismissive snort. ‘I thought that was the general idea, yes.’

  Cesar didn’t know whether to be amused or insulted. Insulted because Grace Blake believed he would ever need to use food—even her sinfully decadent chocolate mousse!—to seduce a woman into sharing his bed. Amusement because— Well, Grace Blake was about to learn the reason for his amusement!

  ‘Come and meet my guests.’ He stood back to allow her to precede him out of the kitchen, a hard smile curving his lips as he followed her down the length of the hallway to the dining-room, so distracted by the perfect curve of her bottom outlined against her black skirt that he almost walked into the back of her as she came to an abrupt halt in the doorway of the dining-room.