‘I warned you, I’ll scream.’ It was melodramatic, but she felt melodramatic, damn it! She gasped as he pulled her against him and she felt the heat from his body melting her bones.
He gave a wolfish smile. ‘Perhaps you will. I remember how you used to scream with pleasure and claw me with your sharp nails when you came, gatinha.’
‘Cruz—for God’s sake!’ In desperation she thumped his shoulder with her fist, but her blows had as much effect as a mosquito landing on a rhino’s hide.
‘You are so goddamned beautiful,’ Cruz said harshly. He could not resist her and he was shamed by his weakness. If he kissed her, perhaps the fire blazing inside him would cool and he would be released from this mad desire that made his muscles taut and his heart pound. He clamped one arm around her waist and slid his other hand into her hair and up to clasp her nape as his mouth swooped down to capture hers.
Cruz’s lips were hard, demanding, as he forced Sabrina to accept the mastery of his kiss. She was unprepared for the savage hunger that ripped through her. She was transported back in time to when she had been eighteen; a girl on the brink of womanhood, a virgin who had given not only her body but her heart and her soul to Cruz. It had taken her ten long years to reclaim them.
The memory of how badly he had hurt her gave her the strength to fight him. But he remembered how to pleasure her and he knew how to undermine her defences with the bold sweep of his tongue as he traced the shape of her lips before thrusting between them to explore the moist interior of her mouth.
Sabrina felt herself tremble and knew Cruz must sense she was close to total capitulation. But rather than increase the pressure of his mouth he softened the kiss and took little sips from her lips, butterfly soft and so utterly beguiling that she sagged against him and kissed him with a sweetness and curiously evocative innocence that caused Cruz to abruptly lift his head.
Deus! He had not come to Eversleigh Hall with the intention of making love to Sabrina. His eyes shot to the big mahogany desk and for a few seconds he was tempted to sacrifice his hope of finding the map, and probably his sanity, he acknowledged derisively, to satisfy the rampant desire raging through his veins.
He had not expected to feel this overpowering attraction to a woman he had known briefly when she had been a girl. Their affair had lasted for less than a year and after she had returned to England he had determinedly put her out of his mind. When he had arrived at Eversleigh Hall this evening he had assumed he would be immune to Sabrina Bancroft. The reckless craving that consumed him was a humiliating reminder of his weakness ten years ago when he had fallen under her spell after one glance from her storm-grey eyes.
Right now, Sabrina’s eyes had softened to the colour of woodsmoke, the colour of her desire; Cruz remembered that sensual look and felt his body tighten in response. He swore silently to himself. He had been a fool once, but he would not make the same mistake a second time.
His mouth curled into an insolent smile. ‘Your willingness to co-operate is encouraging. All I want now is the map, and I will leave you to enjoy your party.’
The mockery in Cruz’s voice ripped apart the seductive web he had woven around Sabrina. She pulled out of his arms, hot-faced and trembling with anger. It was bad enough that he believed she actually liked playing hostess to Hugo Ffaulks and his bunch of immature friends. But worse was the realisation that Cruz had only kissed her in order to make her lower her guard so that she would give him a map that he was convinced was hidden somewhere at Eversleigh Hall.
Oh, God! What was wrong with her? She hadn’t seen him for ten years, but within ten minutes of meeting him again she had all but invited him to hitch up her skirt and take her right there on the desk. Erotic images swirled in her head and her shame was compounded by Cruz’s husky chuckle that told her he had seen her gaze flick towards the desk. Without pausing to think, she lifted her hand and struck his cheek with a resounding crack that shattered the silence in the library. ‘Get out.’
His eyes glittered. ‘I don’t advise you try that again,’ he said in a measured tone that despite its softness sent a shiver down Sabrina’s spine.
‘Just...go,’ she whispered.
When he’d driven from London to Surrey, Cruz had not anticipated making the return journey without the map in his possession. But his visit to Eversleigh Hall had not gone to plan. He grimaced at the understatement. Now he was at an impasse. Either Sabrina genuinely did not know about the map that Earl Bancroft had shown his father, or she was refusing to tell him where the earl kept it.
A sudden loud crash from outside the library broke the stand-off, and with a muttered oath Sabrina hurried across the room and opened the door.
‘John,’ she called to the butler, ‘what on earth was that noise?’
‘I’m afraid it was Sir Reginald, Miss Sabrina. Some of the guests knocked him over.’
Bemused, Cruz followed Sabrina into the hall and saw the suit of armour that he had noticed when he’d arrived at the house lying in pieces on the parquet floor. A group of young men who were clearly the worse for drink were attempting to fit the pieces back together. One of them staggered towards Sabrina.
‘Sorry about your knight, Sab...rina,’ he slurred. ‘I want you to know that this is the best birthday party ever.’
‘I’m glad you are enjoying yourself.’ Sabrina spoke crisply as she tried to sidestep around Hugo Ffaulks, but his reactions were quicker than she’d anticipated and he slid his arms around her waist.
‘I enjoyed you coming to my bedroom this morning. Will you wake me up the same way tomorrow morning, Sabrina?’
Sabrina missed the cynical expression on Cruz’s face. ‘You can have breakfast in bed tomorrow if you wish, Hugo.’ She struggled to hide her impatience as she reminded herself that the money his parents had paid for the party would cover the hall’s outstanding electricity bill.
Still trying to extricate herself from the young man, she glanced along the hall and saw Cruz by the front door. She flushed when he deliberately dropped his gaze to Hugo’s hands on her bottom.
‘My apologies for disturbing you,’ he said mockingly. ‘Have fun for the rest of the night.’
Damn him to hell! Sabrina thought furiously as she watched him stride out of the house. She wrenched herself free from Hugo. She couldn’t understand her burning desire to run after Cruz and slap the arrogant smile off his face. Usually she was mild natured, but he made her feel so angry that her body was actually shaking, and, when she glanced down, the sight of her pebble-hard nipples jutting beneath her dress was humiliating evidence that it was not only anger that Cruz aroused in her.
When he’d kissed her she had felt alive, truly alive, for the first time in ten years. Oh, she was safe from falling in love with him. She’d have to be certifiable to make that mistake again, but during those moments of passion in the library she had wanted him so badly that even now her breasts ached and she could still taste him on her lips.
She would have to get herself under control before she saw him again. And she was in no doubt that she would see him again. She knew from bitter experience that when Cruz wanted something he would not rest until he had it in his possession.
Ten years ago he had wanted her. Now he wanted a map that he insisted her father had hidden at Eversleigh Hall. She was certain that Cruz would be back, but next time she would be prepared for his sizzling sexual charisma and she would not melt the moment he looked at her, she promised herself.
CHAPTER FOUR
THE EXCEPTIONALLY SMOOTH single-malt whisky served at the Earl’s Head loosened tongues and encouraged local gossip, Cruz discovered. Following his unproductive visit to Eversleigh Hall he had returned to the village pub, where he had earlier booked a room for the night, and ordered a double measure of Scotch with a splash of water, no ice.
‘There’s no better cure for life’s problems than a drop of amber nectar,’ the old man sitting at the bar—a farmhand, Cruz guessed from his rough clothes— commented.
Treachery clearly ran in the family genes, Cruz thought bitterly. Henry Bancroft had cheated his father out of his rightful share of the Estrela Vermelha diamond, and tonight Sabrina had denied any knowledge of the map of the abandoned mine. But Cruz was certain she was lying. When he had questioned her she had hesitated for a fraction too long and her eyes had darkened to the colour of wet slate.
He drained the whisky in his glass and nodded to the barman to refill it. What could he do? He could hardly shake the truth out of her, he brooded. Somehow he needed to gain access to Eversleigh Hall so that he could search for the map that it seemed likely her father had hidden in one of the house’s secret places.
He thought of his meeting with Sabrina and felt furious with himself. It had been a mistake to kiss her, but he had been unable to resist her cool beauty and he despised himself for his weakness. Although it had not been all one-sided, he consoled himself. Sabrina’s ardent response proved that she still wanted him and the knowledge was a useful weapon that he would be a fool not to use.
Cruz pulled himself from his thoughts when he realised that the farmhand was speaking.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Sabrina up at the hall didn’t try to forget her problems with the help of a bottle of highland malt.’
‘What kind of problems?’ Cruz asked curiously.
‘Money.’ The farmhand shook his head. ‘The estate has become more and more run-down since her father took over from the old earl many years ago. Henry Bancroft never spent much time at Eversleigh. He was always going abroad for business reasons. It’s said that he trades in diamonds, but no one has seen the earl for well over a year and there’s a rumour in the village that his daughter has reported his disappearance to the police.’
Cruz remembered Sabrina’s curious statement—my father is incommunicado at the moment.
‘My guess is Lady Sabrina is struggling to cope with running the house and estate.’ The farmhand downed his whisky and allowed the generous stranger who was such a good listener to fill his glass again. ‘I used to do a bit of work up at the hall myself, but all the staff have been laid off, apart from old John Boyd and his wife who have been in service there for as long as anyone can remember, and some young girl who looks after the stables.’ He sighed. ‘The trouble is these old country houses are expensive to maintain. It’ll be a shame if Eversleigh is sold.’
‘There may not be anything left of it to sell,’ the barman said as he put down the phone and came over to them. ‘That was Miss Bancroft. There’s a fire up at the hall, and she phoned to ask if some of her guests can spend the night at the pub.’ As he finished speaking the loud wail of a fire engine’s siren sounded outside on the main road.
How bitterly ironic it would be if the house went up in flames before he’d had a chance to find the map of the diamond mine, Cruz thought grimly. Aware that he was over the alcohol limit to drive, he said urgently to the barman, ‘Can you call a taxi to take me to Eversleigh Hall?’
* * *
‘I’m glad to report that the fire is under control. The blaze was almost certainly caused by a smouldering cigarette dropped onto a carpet or chair,’ the fire officer explained to Sabrina. ‘I understand there was a party taking place here tonight. Perhaps one of the guests drank too much and fell asleep holding a lit cigarette.’
‘I’d asked people not to smoke in the house.’ She grimaced. ‘I can’t believe how quickly the fire spread and how much damage it has caused. It looks as though most of the top floor of the east wing and the roof have been completely destroyed.’
The fireman glanced up at the dark sky as rain began to fall. ‘I suggest you call a local building firm to come and rig up tarpaulins so that the damaged part of the house will be protected from the weather until you can see if any of the furnishings are salvageable.’ He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I imagine some of the paintings are originals and irreplaceable, but at least they’ll be covered by your contents insurance.’
Sabrina felt a sensation like concrete solidifying in the pit of her stomach as the fireman’s words sank in. Three months ago she’d had to cancel the contents insurance policy on Eversleigh Hall because she had been unable to afford the premium. It had been a difficult decision but there had been other more urgent bills to pay for, such as a new boiler for the central heating system that had packed up on the coldest day of the winter. Since then she had been meaning to renew the policy but unforgivably it had slipped her mind.
At least Hugo Ffaulks and his friends had been safely evacuated and had gone to stay at hotels in the village. But the fire spelled the end of her fledgling party business at Eversleigh Hall, and probably her family’s association with their ancestral home, Sabrina thought bleakly. She could not even afford to pay for tarpaulins to cover the damaged section of the house, let alone the building and restoration costs.
She heard a car door slam, and her heart crashed against her ribs when she saw Cruz striding towards her.
‘Sabrina.’ His husky accent lingered on each syllable of her name. He splashed through a puddle, uncaring that filthy black water stained his pale grey trousers. ‘Are you all right?’ he demanded, clasping her shoulders.
‘I’m fine.’ Her voice was muffled against his chest as he pulled her towards him, and for a few seconds she closed her eyes and allowed his strength and vitality to seep into her.
‘It looks as though only the newer part of the house was affected by the fire, and luckily the older and more historically important section is undamaged,’ he commented.
Of course the house and, more importantly, the map that he believed was hidden somewhere inside were Cruz’s only concern—not her, Sabrina told herself as she stepped away from him and ruthlessly crushed her pang of hurt.
She frowned when she saw a ginger figure flash past and bolt into the fire-damaged part of the house. ‘George! Come back.’
‘Who is George?’ Cruz found he was talking to himself as Sabrina tore across the lawn before disappearing into the fire-blackened house.
‘George, where are you, sweetheart?’ Sabrina called, vainly trying to peer through the blackness. The part of the house where the fire had done most damage was known as the annexe. It had been built in the early nineteen hundreds, and, as Cruz had commented, was of less historic importance than the main house. The flames had been extinguished but the rooms were still full of thick smoke that made Sabrina’s eyes sting. ‘George.’
‘Is George the guy who was looking forward to being woken by you in the morning?’ Cruz’s deep voice cut through the darkness and Sabrina jumped when he appeared at her side.
‘What...?’ Comprehension dawned as she remembered that when Cruz had paid his first visit to Eversleigh Hall earlier in the evening, the party had been in full swing. ‘No,’ she said distractedly, ‘that was Hugo. George is—’
‘Another of your juvenile lovers?’ Cruz suggested. ‘How many do you have? You should not play with boys, gatinha. You need a man to satisfy you.’
‘How would you know what I need?’ She bristled at his outrageous arrogance.
‘I know that the boyfriend I saw you with at the party is not strong enough for you. On the surface you are the cool and composed lady of the manor, but beneath your serene smile there is, not ice, but heat and simmering sensuality. You need a man who can tame your fiery temperament and who would be prepared to put you across his knee if necessary.’
Sabrina’s choking fit had nothing to do with the smoky atmosphere. ‘You are the most chauvinistic dinosaur I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet,’ she spluttered. ‘We h
aven’t seen each other for ten years and you have no idea what I want.’
‘You want me,’ he said with infuriating self-assurance. ‘Did you think I didn’t feel the quickening of your heartbeat when I kissed you earlier, or that I did not notice the flush of sexual desire that stained your creamy skin so prettily?’ His voice deepened and his husky accent caused the hairs on the back of Sabrina’s neck to stand on end. ‘It’s still there, Sabrina, and we both recognised it in the library. I could have had you on the desk and you would have been with me all the way. I bet you have never met another man who excites you as much as I do.’
Sabrina was thankful that the darkness hid the wave of heat she felt spreading across her cheeks. ‘This is an utterly ridiculous conversation and an even more ridiculous place to be having it.’ She swung away from Cruz and yelped as she stubbed her toe on a door frame. ‘Damn it, I can’t see a thing.’ She blinked as a light suddenly flared and she saw that it came from Cruz’s mobile phone. ‘There’s George,’ she cried as she glimpsed the glitter of green eyes.
‘George is a cat?’ Cruz swore. ‘I can’t believe you risked your safety for a cat.’
‘He was probably terrified by the fire and he’s looking for somewhere to hide. Quick—grab him before he runs off.’ Sabrina heard a yowl, followed by a torrent of Portuguese that she guessed from Cruz’s tone it was lucky she did not understand. ‘Have you got him?’
‘It would be more to the point to say that he has got me,’ Cruz muttered as he viewed the ball of orange fur that had attached its teeth to his hand with considerable dislike.
‘Oh, my poor darling.’ Sabrina’s soft-as-butter voice went some way to soothing Cruz’s damaged pride, until he realised that she was speaking to the cat. The animal responded to the sound of his mistress and released its grip on Cruz’s flesh before leaping into Sabrina’s arms.
‘I don’t think he’s injured,’ she said as she carried George outside and inspected him anxiously.
Mistress of His Revenge (Bought by the Brazilian #1) Page 4
