‘The sapphires are from Sri Lanka and are a lighter blue than most other sapphires,’ he explained. ‘They are the colour of your eyes, querida.’ He slid the ring onto her third finger, next to her wedding band. ‘I noticed that you don’t wear your engagement ring because it catches on Alejo’s clothes. This is small and dainty, and I think it suits you better,’ he said with a smile.
‘I love it,’ Rachel assured him. She loved him too, but she swallowed the words and picked up her coffee cup, unable to disguise the slight shake of her hand.
Diego glanced at his watch. ‘It’s getting late. I’ll ask for the bill.’
‘We don’t have to leave yet. Maybe you would like a liqueur,’ she said quickly, wishing that the evening would never end. ‘I’m not the least bit tired.’
‘I’m glad to hear it,’ Diego said gravely, conscious of the strong, deep thud of his heart. ‘I was wondering if I could interest you in a game of chess when we get home. Argentinian rules,’ he murmured dulcetly, his eyes glinting wickedly as soft colour flooded her cheeks.
‘I think you mean your rules,’ Rachel choked, unable to hold back a smile as she remembered the chess games they had played during the heady days of their affair back in Gloucestershire. ‘When I play chess with you I seem to lose my clothes.’
Diego walked around the table and drew her to her feet. ‘That is the plan, querida,’ he murmured, before he bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers in a kiss that left her aching for more.
They did not speak on the drive back to the apartment, but the silence shimmered with sexual tension that was almost tangible. Diego kissed her again when they stepped into the lift, and did not take his lips from hers until they reached the forty-second floor.
‘I should check on Alejo,’ Rachel whispered as he swept her up into his arms and carried her purposefully towards the master suite.
‘Ines is in charge during the nights,’ Diego said firmly. When he claimed her mouth once more Rachel could not resist him, and curled her arms around his neck as he strode into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them.
He might not love her as she loved him, but he cared for her, she was sure of it, she thought as he drew the straps of her dress over her shoulders and slowly revealed her breasts. He had given her an eternity ring, and Diego of all people would not have made such a gesture lightly.
‘I thought we were going to play chess,’ she teased as her dress slithered down her thighs and pooled at her feet.
‘Revised rules,’ he murmured against her throat. ‘No playing board or pieces, and we both lose our clothes.’
He made love to her with exquisite care, conscious that it was only six weeks since she had given birth.
‘You were so brave when you had Alejo,’ he said deeply, shuddering at the memory of her lying on the bed, torn apart with pain. He would have given anything to have changed places with her and spared her the ordeal, and he had felt so helpless, but Rachel had coped brilliantly and had left him awed by her physical and mental strength.
‘I wasn’t brave, I screamed my head off,’ Rachel said ruefully. ‘I was so glad you were with me.’ Her heart jolted when she met his gaze and saw an expression there that she could not define. But then he claimed her mouth once more in a drugging kiss, and she parted her lips and welcomed the bold sweep of his tongue, every nerve-ending in her body tingling with anticipation. He traced his hands over her breasts and her flat stomach, and then slipped between her thighs and stroked her gently through the sheer lace of her knickers.
‘Diego …’ It wasn’t enough, not nearly enough. She was shaking with need, and she tugged frantically at his shirt buttons so that he laughed huskily at her eagerness and quickly stripped out of his clothes. He drew her panties down and then lifted her and laid her on the bed, desire pulsing through him as he nudged her legs apart. She was wet for him, but he was intent on arousing her fully and he bent his head and flicked his tongue over her taut nipple, heard her gasp of pleasure and transferred his mouth to her other breast. She had given him so much, he acknowledged as he gently parted her and slid his finger between her velvet folds, caressing her until she arched her hips. Rachel was like a golden light in his life, which had been dark for so long, and because of her gentleness and understanding he was slowly coming to terms with his past.
‘Diego … now … please,’ Rachel implored him as his wickedly inventive fingers made her quiver with longing to feel him deep inside her.
‘I don’t want to hurt you.’
‘You won’t …’ She stretched her legs wide and sighed her pleasure when he eased into her, his hard length filling her while her heart flooded with love for him. After all that had happened to him, he might never be able to love her, but she understood now why he sometimes appeared distant, and she would always be there for him, no matter what.
He kissed her again, his mouth fused with hers while he drove into her in a steady rhythm that grew quicker and more intense with each deep stroke, until Rachel hovered on the edge of heaven, waiting for him to join her. She saw his head go back, the cords on his neck standing out as he gave one final thrust, and he cried her name as they fell together, their bodies trembling with the intensity of their passion. And, in the aftermath, Diego traced his lips over her cheek and hair and closed each of her eyelids with a gentle benediction, and she fell asleep in his arms, unaware that he lay watching her for long into the night.
For the next week Rachel was happier than she had ever been in her life. She spent her days caring for her darling son, but her nights were Diego’s, and she certainly wasn’t complaining about the dedication he showed to making love to her.
But her bubble burst when she woke one morning and saw him walking out of the en suite bathroom dressed in his riding gear.
‘I’m sorry, sweetheart, but it’s time for me to go back to work,’ he murmured as he leant over the bed and dropped a soft kiss on her mouth. ‘I’m due to play in a tournament in Brazil, and the sponsor’s called to ask me to fly to Sao Paulo a couple of days early.’
His words came as an unwelcome reality check to Rachel. ‘You intend to continue with your polo career, then?’ she said slowly.
Diego looked surprised. ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t I?’
‘It’s a dangerous sport, and I thought … now that there is Alejo to consider, you might retire from competitions.’
He gave a faint shrug. ‘Polo is no more dangerous than many other sports. Playing polo is what I do, Rachel,’ he said a touch impatiently when she stared at him with an air of reproach that tugged at his insides. For the past ten years his career had been the one thing he’d been proud of, and if he was honest he had made polo his life. He hadn’t thought about retiring, but he admitted to himself that he had left it this late to announce that he was flying to Brazil because he was reluctant to leave Rachel.
‘Alejo will miss you,’ Rachel said dully, trying to hide her disappointment that Diego would continue to spend much of his life travelling around the world to play in matches, and seemingly intended to leave her behind.
‘I will miss him too …’ Diego hesitated. ‘When I come back, the Estancia Elvira is hosting a national tournament. I thought you would like to come with Alejo, and we’ll spend a few days there.’
Rachel nodded and forced a smile, but during the following week while he was away she could not shake off the nameless dread that something would shatter her newfound happiness. Diego was an experienced player, she reminded herself. But he was also a dangerously confident rider who took risks other players would not dare.
Diego’s flight from Brazil was delayed and he did not arrive at the estancia until the day of the national tournament. Arturo had driven Rachel to the hacienda two days earlier, the car laden with Alejo’s stroller and crib and a mountain of other baby paraphernalia.
The housekeeper, Beatriz, adored the baby, and once Rachel had fed Alejo and settled him in his crib she went to find her husband. The stables were a h
ive of frantic activity and she searched desperately for Diego, her heart pounding when she caught sight of him striding across the yard, looking utterly gorgeous in pale jodhpurs and a black shirt and boots. She loved him so much it scared her, she acknowledged as she forgot any pretence of acting cool and hurtled into his arms.
‘Can I take it you missed me, querida?’ he asked, his amber eyes glinting with amusement that swiftly turned to hunger as he claimed her mouth in a passionate kiss and she responded unrestrainedly.
‘Of course I did,’ she admitted shyly, unable to lie to him or hide her emotions any longer.
He set her down on her feet and stared at her, his expression suddenly so grave that her heart lurched painfully in her chest. ‘Rachel … we need to talk,’ he said in a strained voice. ‘But not now,’ he added with a grimace. The grooms were leading the polo ponies out and the babble of voices, horses neighing and the general air of pre-match excitement made conversation impossible. ‘I have to go.’ He dropped a brief, hard kiss on her lips and strode away to mount his horse, leaving Rachel staring after him, wondering what it was that he needed to say to her.
Had he realised that she was in love with him, and intended to warn her that he could never feel the same way? She already knew that, she reminded herself. But all the joy she’d felt at seeing him again had faded, and her heart felt like lead when she walked down to the polo field.
The national championships had attracted a huge crowd of spectators who filled the stands, while in the refreshment marquees the champagne was flowing. Rachel made her way to the opposing team’s end of the pitch where, as top goal scorer, Diego was sure to be in action. The horses were snorting and pawing the ground and as soon as the umpire bowled the ball into play they began to thunder down the pitch.
It was exciting and terrifying to watch and, although Rachel had never played polo, she knew just how much skill was needed to halt a horse in full gallop, turn on a sixpence and hurtle off again, all the while trying to hit a small ball with a wooden mallet. Diego was an outstanding player who rode with a fearlessness which bordered on recklessness. He dominated the game and Rachel struggled to keep sight of him as he raced up and down the pitch so fast that his horse’s hooves sent lumps of turf flying up into the air.
The accident happened so fast—and yet to Rachel, watching Diego’s horse collide with another pony, he seemed to fly out of his saddle in slow motion, there was a tangle of legs and his horse hit the ground and rolled over, appearing to crush Diego beneath its massive body. For a few seconds a shocked silence gripped the crowd and then the air reverberated with cries and shouts, a woman screaming. Rachel did not realise at first that the screams were coming from her throat, she was simply calling Diego’s name over and over as she fought to scramble over the barrier onto the pitch and was held back by a pair of strong arms.
‘The paramedics are already with him,’ one of the gauchos, Hector, said urgently. ‘You can do nothing Señora Ortega. Go back to the hacienda and I will bring news as soon as I have a report of his injuries.’
‘I can’t leave him,’ Rachel cried desperately. ‘I want to be with him.’
But Hector shook his head grimly, and Rachel felt sick with fear. She knew the risks. Only a few months ago a top polo player from the US team had been killed during a match. She pressed her hand to her mouth to hold back her sobs. ‘I have to go to him,’ she choked.
‘Go to your son, señora,’ Hector told her harshly. ‘I will come when I have news.’
Another of the ranch hands drove her back to the house. Rachel went without argument, knowing that Hector was right—there was nothing she could do for Diego, and she needed to be with her baby. The minute hand on the clock moved with excruciating slowness. Half an hour passed, an hour. Beatriz wept silently into her apron, but Rachel felt frozen inside as she fed and changed Alejo and forced herself to smile for him, while a voice in her head insisted—he’s not dead, he’s not dead.
The sound of tyres on the gravel drive made her heart stop beating and she rushed to the door, expecting to see Hector, her legs threatening to give way when Diego walked up the veranda steps, his shirt covered in dust and a livid purple bruise along one cheekbone, but otherwise apparently uninjured.
‘Hello, querida.’ Diego’s gaze settled on her ashen face and red-rimmed eyes and he felt a pain in his chest that had nothing to do with his riding accident. When he had hit the ground and realised that he was about to be crushed by his horse, his one thought had been that he hadn’t told Rachel what she meant to him—and in that split second he had known how desperately he wanted to live.
‘I thought you were dead,’ Rachel whispered, her throat feeling as though she had swallowed barbed wire. ‘I watched the horse go down and I was sure you must have been crushed.’
‘I saw it fall and knew I had to decide which way to roll,’ he replied. ‘Fortunately, I made the right choice. I’m fine,’ he assured her gently when she stared at him as if she still believed he was a ghost. ‘A couple of cracked ribs and a few bruises, including this beauty—’ he ran his finger over his purple cheek ‘—but nothing to worry about.’
Nothing to worry about! The glib phrase hammered in Rachel’s head as she recalled the worst hour of her life, when she had gone almost insane with worry, and her temper simmered.
She marched up to him, hiding her fury behind a sympathetic smile. ‘Does the bruise on your cheek hurt?’
Diego gave a faint shrug. ‘It’s sore, but I’ll live. Rachel …’
Her hand whipped through the air and cracked against his other cheek. ‘Well, there’s a matching bruise. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt nearly as much as the pain I felt when I saw … when I thought …’ Rachel’s voice broke and tears streamed down her face as if a dam inside her had burst and released the flood of emotions she had tried to suppress during the agonising wait for news.
She stepped back, her eyes clashing with Diego’s stunned gaze, and she felt sick when she saw the imprint of her fingers on his skin. But she was so angry—angrier than she had ever been in her life.
‘How dare you put me through that?’ she yelled at him. ‘How dare you taunt death to come and claim you because you don’t care if you live or die? I watched the way you rode today, with complete disregard for your safety. I know you still blame yourself for Eduardo’s death. It was a tragic accident, Diego. It was not your fault. Yet you seem determined to be a martyr for the rest of your life.’
She paused to drag oxygen into her lungs, her whole body trembling, while Diego stood as still as if he had been carved from granite. ‘Sometimes I wish I didn’t love you,’ she said brokenly. ‘But I do, damn you. I do.’
She saw the sudden blaze in Diego’s eyes and knew she had gone too far. He was probably furious with her. And, as usual, her tongue had run away with her. Blinded by tears, she spun round and hurtled up the stairs but, before she was halfway to the top, Diego caught up with her and she gasped when he snatched her into his arms. She could not bear to face him, not when she had revealed her feelings for him, and she beat her fists against his chest in fury.
‘Go away. Leave me alone.’
‘I can’t do that, querida. I will never leave you again,’ he vowed as he strode down the landing and kicked open the door to the master bedroom. ‘You are my wife and we will never be apart again, not even for one night.’ His voice throbbed with emotion, but as Rachel lifted her startled eyes to his face he brought his mouth down on hers and kissed her until she sagged against him and parted her lips so that his tongue could slide between them.
It was a kiss of possession and determined intent, his lips moving on hers with bruising force as the storm between them raged out of control. Tears were still pouring down Rachel’s cheeks as she relived her terror that she had lost him for ever, and she kissed him back hungrily, needing to taste him and know that he was really here and not some figment of her imagination. His hands roamed up and down her body, curving around her bottom to drag her a
gainst his pelvis, and then up over her hips and waist until he cupped her breasts in his palms.
Wild excitement coursed through Rachel when he tugged open the buttons running down the front of her sundress and bared her breasts to his burning gaze. The feel of his hands on her naked flesh felt so good, so right, and she wanted him so very badly. But nothing between them had changed, and the warning voice in her head battled with her feverish need for his possession.
‘Diego …’ He lifted his mouth from hers and she shivered when he trailed his lips over her jaw and down her throat. Her heart was breaking and if he took her to bed now she feared it would destroy her. ‘I don’t want to have sex with you.’
‘I don’t want to have sex with you, either, Rachel.’
‘You … don’t?’ She thought she had suffered as much pain as she could bear, but his rejection was agony.
Diego cupped her face, his hands shaking, and stared intently into her eyes. And suddenly the words that he had wanted to tell her for so long were not difficult to say. ‘I want to make love to you,’ he said deeply. ‘But first I need to tell you … that I love you, querida. Te amo, Rachel. Tu eres mi vida, mi amor.’
He brushed her tears away with his mouth and Rachel trembled when she saw the tenderness, the love, blazing in his eyes. ‘If I’m honest, I think I fell in love with you when I scooped you up after you’d been thrown from your horse,’ he told her softly, smiling faintly at the stunned disbelief in her eyes. ‘You were tiny and beautiful, and so argumentative. I’d never met anyone like you before, and the month we spent together was the happiest of my life. But you proved just how different you were from my previous lovers when you walked out on me.
‘It hurt,’ he admitted gruffly. ‘And I was so furious that you had the power to hurt me that I went to New York utterly determined to forget you. But I couldn’t get you out of my mind, and when I heard that you had tried to contact me I seized on my business trip to London as an excuse to visit you.’
One Night In Collection Page 144
