Mistress Of His Revenge

He turned away from the window, bored by the scene of drunken debauchery taking place on the lawn, and glanced around the library. Eversleigh Hall deserved its reputation as one of England’s finest stately homes. From the outside the house was a gracious manor house, predominantly Georgian in style, although some of the original sixteenth-century building still remained. Inside, the impressive entrance hall and the library had a rather faded elegance about them—as if the house had been trapped in a time warp when grand country houses were run by dozens of staff.

The only member of staff Cruz had seen was the elderly butler who had admitted him into the house. He frowned. Had he imagined an odd expression had crossed the butler’s face when he’d asked to see Earl Bancroft?

He wondered why the earl was hosting a party for guests who seemed to be barely out of high school. Perhaps the party was for Sabrina’s younger brother, he mused. Tristan Bancroft must be in his early twenties now. Ten years ago Sabrina had used the excuse that she wanted to return to Eversleigh Hall because her kid brother needed her. The real reason, Cruz knew, was because she’d felt trapped in Brazil when she had been expecting his child. After she’d lost the baby she had rushed back to England and the privileged lifestyle she was used to.

His mind snapped back to the present as he noticed the door handle turn, and his jaw hardened at the prospect of meeting Earl Bancroft—the man he held responsible for his father’s death.

The door opened and Cruz stiffened.

* * *

‘It is you.’ Shock stole Sabrina’s breath and her voice emerged as a thread of sound. Cruz was instantly recognisable and yet he looked different from the man she had known ten years ago. Of course he was older, and the boyishly handsome features she remembered were harder, his face leaner, with slashing cheekbones and a chiselled jaw that gave him an uncompromising air of power and authority combined with devastating sensuality.

The curve of his lips was achingly familiar and memories of the feel of his mouth on hers flooded back. How could she remember his kiss so vividly after all this time? she wondered, dismayed by her reaction to him. She unconsciously flicked her tongue across her lower lip and saw his eyes narrow on the betraying gesture.

Cruz had always been able to decimate her equilibrium with one glittering glance from his olive-green eyes, Sabrina thought ruefully. She recalled the first time she had seen him in Brazil. Even as a young man, his body had been honed and muscular from working in the diamond mine. His jeans and shirt had been filthy, and when he’d taken his hat off, she had noticed that his black hair curling onto his brow was damp with sweat.

She had never met a man so overwhelmingly male before. The sheltered life she had led at Eversleigh Hall and at an all-girls boarding school had not prepared her for Cruz’s smouldering sensuality. She’d taken one look at him and scorching heat had swept through her body. Disconcerted by her reaction, she had behaved with an uncharacteristic lack of manners and ignored him. But a few days later she had met him while she was out walking and he had told her that his name was Cruz Delgado before he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her with a blazing passion that had set the pattern of their relationship.

For a moment Sabrina felt like a shy, unworldly eighteen-year-old again and she was tempted to run out of the library away from Cruz’s brooding stare. She was twenty-eight, had a PhD and was highly regarded in her field of expertise in antique furniture restoration, she reminded herself. His unexpected appearance at Eversleigh Hall was undeniably a shock, but she assured herself that she was immune to his simmering sexual chemistry.

‘Why are you here?’

She was thankful her voice sounded normal. But seeing him again brought back memories of her miscarriage just four and a half months into her pregnancy. She wondered if Cruz ever imagined what their son would be like if her pregnancy had gone to term. Did he sometimes picture, as she did, a strong-jawed, dark-haired boy with his father’s green eyes, or perhaps his mother’s grey ones? The raw pain that had torn her apart in the weeks and months after the miscarriage had faded with time, but there would always be a lingering ache in her heart for the child she had lost.

‘I need to speak to your father.’

Fool, Sabrina berated herself, remembering that the butler had said Cruz had asked to see Earl Bancroft. The reason for his visit had nothing to do with her. He hadn’t cared about her ten years ago. The only reason he had asked her to marry him was because he had wanted his child. But having witnessed her parents’ disastrous marriage, Sabrina had been wary of making such a commitment. She had been sure Cruz did not love her and so she had turned him down.

Cruz did not look as though he was besieged by memories of the past. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored grey suit that moulded the lean lines of his body, and a white shirt that contrasted with his darkly tanned face. He looked the phenomenally successful multimillionaire businessman that she had read about in both the financial pages and the gossip columns of the newspapers. Yet beneath his air of suave sophistication she sensed there was still a wild, untameable quality about Cruz Delgado that had so intrigued her when they had been lovers.

Once again she felt the urge to flee from the library but she forced herself to walk into the room, closing the door behind her with a decisive click.

Cruz was standing behind the desk, his hawk-like features set in an arrogant expression as if he owned Eversleigh Hall, damn him. A memory slid into her mind of when she had been a little girl called into her father’s study to explain some misdemeanour. Earl Bancroft had not been a particularly strict parent, more an uninterested one. He’d spent most of his time abroad and when Sabrina was a child her father had been a stranger who upset her mother and created a fraught tension in the house that disappeared when he went away again.

Lifting her chin, Sabrina walked around the desk to where Cruz was standing by the window, but she regretted her actions when she realised how close she was to him. She was sure it was not by accident that he’d moved his position slightly so that she was trapped between his powerful body and the desk. The musk of his sandalwood cologne was instantly familiar and she recognised the brand of aftershave she had given him as a present soon after she had given him her virginity. Had he deliberately worn that particular brand tonight to torment her?

Unwilling to meet his gaze, she glanced towards the window and made a choked sound when she saw what appeared to be a group orgy taking place on the lawn. ‘For heaven’s sake!’ she muttered as she quickly twitched the curtains shut.

‘Your friends are clearly enjoying themselves,’ Cruz drawled.

‘They’re not my friends.’ Sabrina could feel her face burning. She wasn’t a prude but the behaviour going on—not to mention the amount of clothes coming off—in the garden was unacceptable.

‘Are they your brother’s friends?’ Cruz was curious. ‘Is it Tristan’s party?’

‘Tristan is away at university.’ Thankfully her brother was nothing like Hugo Ffaulk and his ilk, Sabrina thought to herself. Tris knew that to fulfil his ambition of being an airline pilot he had to gain a first-class degree. Of course there was also the little matter of the one hundred thousand pounds required for the pilot training. The merry-go-round of worries inside her head did another circuit. Somehow, she vowed, she would find the money for her brother to train for the career that he had dreamed of since he was a small boy.

‘So, are those people your father’s guests?’

Sabrina had no intention of telling Cruz that giving parties at Eversleigh Hall was a business venture. No one apart from her and the bank manager knew of the financial catastrophe that was looming over Eversleigh, and so far she had managed to keep the news that Earl Bancroft was missing out of the media.

‘They are my guests, who I invited to my party,’ she said stiffly. ‘Some of them are just a little over-exuberant, that’s all.’

Cruz gave her a sardonic look. ‘I’ve heard gossip on the London social scene about the wild parties you throw at Eversleigh Hall. What does Earl Bancroft think about his stately home being overrun by upper-class yobs?’

‘My father isn’t here. He’s away on a trip and I don’t know when he’ll be back. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.’ She tried to step past him and gave a startled cry when he caught hold of her arm.

‘That’s it?’ Cruz growled. ‘I see you haven’t changed in the past ten years, gatinha. You still think you can dismiss me as if I am dirt beneath your shoe.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She tried to jerk her arm out of his grip. ‘And don’t call me that. I’m not your kitten.’ Hearing him use the affectionate name he had called her when they had been lovers, in a sarcastic tone, hurt more than it had any right to.

His gravelly, sexy accent brought her skin out in goose bumps. She wanted to stop staring at him but she could not tear her eyes from the sculpted planes of his face and his sensual mouth. ‘I never treated you like dirt,’ she muttered, startled by the accusation. Surely she had made it embarrassingly obvious ten years ago that she’d worshipped the ground he walked on?

‘The first time we saw each other you put your nose in the air and ignored me.’

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I was eighteen and painfully naïve. The nuns who taught at St Ursula’s College for Ladies never explained about handsome men who could make a girl feel...’ She broke off, flushing as Cruz’s gaze narrowed on her face.

‘Feel...what?’ he demanded. Sabrina recognised the predatory gleam in his eyes and she instinctively backed away from him until her spine was jammed against the desk.

‘You know how you made me feel.’ She silently cursed the huskiness in her voice. ‘And I didn’t ignore you for long. You made sure of that.’

He’d had her in his bed within a week of her arrival in Brazil. Memories assailed her of blistering hot days when they’d had blisteringly exciting sex in the shade of the rubber trees, and sultry, steamy nights when Cruz had climbed up to her balcony at the ranch house and they’d made love beneath the stars.

The rasp of Cruz’s breath warned her that he was also remembering their scorching passion. But sex was all they had shared, Sabrina thought. Their response to each other ten years ago had simply been a chemical reaction. Disturbingly, the mysterious alchemy of sexual attraction was at work again now. She could see it in the way his olive-green eyes had darkened so that they were almost black.

Her spine would be bruised from where she was pressing against the desk. She searched her mind for something to say to break the simmering tension in the room. ‘Why do you want to see my father?’

‘I believe he has something that belongs to me, and I want what is mine.’

* * *

Cruz stared at the stunning diamond pendant Sabrina was wearing around her neck. The Estrela Vermelha—the Red Star—was one of the largest red diamonds ever to have been found in Brazil. Cruz knew that diamonds could occur in a variety of colours, with red being the rarest. When his father had found the gem, the uncut, unpolished stone had not looked as though it was worth a fortune.

Earl Bancroft had had the stone triangular-cut, or trilliant-cut as it was known to gemologists. The red diamond had been set in a border of white diamonds and the contrast between the red and white sparkling gems was truly breathtaking. The pendant had never been for sale, but conservative estimates suggested it was worth well over a million pounds.

When Sabrina had entered the library Cruz had been so fixated on her that he had barely noticed the Estrela Vermelha, he acknowledged grimly. Her ruby-red dress was a perfect match for the red diamond nestling between her breasts. The silk jersey dress clung to every dip and curve of her slender figure and when she walked, the side split in the skirt parted to reveal one long, lissom leg.

The dress was overtly sexy, and with her pale blonde hair tumbling in silky, glossy waves around her shoulders Sabrina looked like every red-blooded male’s fantasy, yet she still retained an air of elegance and refinement that spoke of her aristocratic bloodline.

A haze of jealousy clouded Cruz’s mind as he wondered who Sabrina had dressed like a vamp for. He glanced down at her left hand and saw that it was ringless. So, it was likely that she was unmarried. Not that he gave a damn, he assured himself. Had she chosen to wear the scarlet dress to impress a lover? A vision sprang into his mind of Sabrina in the arms of another man. Why the hell did that make his blood boil? he asked himself impatiently.

He had been her first lover but he was damned sure he hadn’t been her last—not when she had the body of Venus and a luscious mouth that simply begged to be kissed. Her lips were coated in a scarlet gloss that emphasised their sensual shape and her grey eyes were enhanced by a smoky shadow on her eyelids.

Cruz visualised the innocent girl he had known a decade ago. Sabrina had been an exceptionally pretty teenager, but now she was a stunningly beautiful woman, entirely aware of her sensuality and with the self-confidence to wear clothes that showed off her exquisite figure.

It was still there. He had not seen her for ten years, but one look was all it had taken to make him realise that he had never desired any woman as much as Sabrina Bancroft. Thinking of her family name reminded him of why he had come to Eversleigh and the hatred he felt for Earl Bancroft.

He reached out his hand and touched the Estrela Vermelha. The jewel was as cold and hard as his anger as he remembered his father’s excitement when Vitor had discovered the rare diamond.

‘It’s likely that there are more red diamonds in the part of the mine where I found the first one. If I find more, Earl Bancroft has promised I will receive a share of their value.’

‘Don’t go back there, Papai,’ Cruz had pleaded with his father. ‘That part of the mine is dangerous. Some of the miners say that the roof supports aren’t strong enough.’

But Vitor had ignored him. ‘I have to go back.’

The earl had sent Vitor to search for more diamonds and had sent him to his death. Cruz still had nightmares about when he’d heard the incredible roaring noise of the mine roof collapsing as tons of rock had crashed down on his father and buried him alive.

He snatched his hand away from the Estrela Vermelha. ‘Red is a fitting colour for a diamond which is stained with my father’s blood.’

A shiver ran through Sabrina. She couldn’t explain why she had never liked the Red Star diamond even though she admired its flawless beauty. The only reason she had worn it tonight was because she had wanted to impress the party guests. People booked parties at Eversleigh Hall because they liked the grandeur and history of the stately home, and they had no idea that, short of a miracle, the hall might soon have to be sold and would no longer be the ancestral home of the Bancroft family.

The dark red diamond was the colour of blood, but Cruz’s words did not make any sense to Sabrina. ‘What do you mean? What does your father have to do with the Red Star?’

‘He found it, and it was his right to claim part of the value of the diamond. But he died before he received his percentage share. My father was killed doing your father’s dirty work,’ Cruz said harshly. ‘Earl Bancroft sent him into the mine to search for more red diamonds. Your father has Vitor’s blood on his hands and I have come to Eversleigh to demand compensation for my father’s life.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘I WANT YOU to leave.’

Sabrina whirled away from Cruz and faced him across the desk, breathing hard as she struggled to control her temper. ‘How dare you turn up at Eversleigh uninvited and make a ridiculous accusation against my father, who isn’t even here to defend himself?’

‘He couldn’t defend himself against the truth.’ Cruz welcomed his anger as a distraction from the infuriating knowledge that when Sabrina had squeezed past him, her breasts had brushed against his chest and his body had reacted with humiliating predictability. His eyes were drawn to the low-cut neckline of her dress and the jerky rise and fall of her breasts. He pictured her naked beneath him, the erotic contrast of her milky pale body against his dark bronze skin, and he remembered her soft, kitten-like cries in the throes of orgasm.

Inferno! It was two months since he had dumped his last mistress and clearly he had gone too long without sex, he thought with savage self-derision. The purpose of his visit was to persuade Earl Bancroft to hand over the map of the abandoned mine, but all he could think of was how much he wanted to bend Sabrina over the desk and push her dress up to her waist, baring her silken thighs so that he could...

Ruthlessly he controlled his imagination but he could not control the painful throb of desire in his groin as he tried to focus on what she was saying.

‘I didn’t know your father had died.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry... I know how close you were to him. But I don’t believe my father was responsible. How could he have had anything to do with Vitor’s death?’

‘When my father found the Estrela Vermelha, the earl sent him back to an area of the mine that he knew was unsafe to look for more diamonds.’ Cruz’s jaw hardened. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know. Bancroft must have told you about the accident at the mine even if he failed to admit his culpability for what happened.’

‘My father didn’t confide in me,’ Sabrina admitted. ‘We’ve never been close. I grew up at Eversleigh, but my father had inherited land and the diamond mine in Brazil from an uncle and he spent months at a time abroad. I visited him when I was eighteen, which is when I met you, but when I came back to England I had little contact with him.’

She fell silent, remembering the bleakest period of her life when she had hidden away at Eversleigh like a wounded animal. There had been no one she could talk to about the miscarriage. Four years earlier, when she had been fourteen, her mother had walked out of her marriage to Earl Bancroft and abandoned her children for her lover, and Sabrina had learned a valuable lesson—that she could not trust anyone and she had to rely on herself.

When she’d fallen pregnant by Cruz in Brazil she had told her father about her pregnancy. Typically he had said little then, or later, when she’d informed him that she had lost the baby. His only comment had been that he thought she had made the right decision to return to England and take up the university place she had deferred.

The earl had paid an unexpected visit to Eversleigh Hall during the summer ten years ago, Sabrina suddenly recalled. Her father had been in a strange mood and even more uncommunicative than usual, but he had made the surprising announcement that he intended to sell his diamond mine. He’d made no mention of Vitor Delgado’s fatal accident, or of Cruz, and Sabrina’s pride had refused to allow her to ask about him.

She had spent her first weeks back at Eversleigh hoping that Cruz would come after her, but as time went by she had been forced to accept that he wasn’t coming and he did not care about her. Now she’d learned that he had suffered a terrible tragedy soon after she had returned home. Following his father’s death his focus would understandably have been on taking care of his mother and much younger twin sisters.

She studied his face and noticed the fine lines around his eyes and deep grooves on either side of his mouth that had not been there ten years ago. He had idolised his father and would have felt Vitor’s loss deeply. She felt a faint tug on her heart. ‘When did the accident at the mine happen?’

‘Three weeks after you had left me and returned to England. It was the worst time of my life. First you lost our baby and then I lost my father.’

Sabrina stiffened. ‘An estimated one in seven pregnancies ends in miscarriage,’ she said huskily, repeating what numerous medical experts had told her when she had sought an answer as to why she had lost her baby. ‘We were unlucky.’

‘Perhaps it was simply bad luck.’ Cruz’s tone was devoid of any emotion, but Sabrina was convinced she had heard criticism in his voice. She curled her hands into tight balls until her fingernails cut into her palms.

‘Riding my horse did not cause me to miscarry,’ she said in a low tone. ‘I was seventeen weeks into my pregnancy and beyond the risk period of the first three months. The doctor said I was not to blame.’ But she had always blamed herself, she acknowledged bleakly, and she had suspected that Cruz thought she’d been irresponsible to have gone riding.

‘If you’d had your way, you would have wrapped me in cotton wool for nine months,’ she burst out.

His over-the-top concern had been for the baby, not for her. Every day, when Cruz had gone to work at the mine he had left her under the watchful and disapproving eyes of his mother. Sabrina had felt lonely and bored in Brazil. She’d been delighted at her three-month scan when the doctor had said that her pregnancy was progressing well and there was no reason why she should not do the things she normally did. She had thought it would be safe to take her horse for a gentle ride, aware that her mother had ridden during both of her pregnancies.

Cruz’s chiselled features were impassive. ‘There is no point in dragging up the past.’

His harsh voice jerked Sabrina from her painful memories. Her long lashes swept down, but not before Cruz glimpsed raw emotion in her grey eyes that shocked him. Ten years ago her lack of emotion after the miscarriage had made him realise that she had not wanted their child, and her hurried departure from Brazil had proved that she did not have any feelings for him.

His jaw hardened and he told himself he must have imagined the pained expression in her eyes. ‘You said that the earl is away, but I need to speak to him urgently. I assume you keep in contact with him by phone or email?’

She shook her head. ‘All I know is that he is probably in Africa. He has investments in a couple of mines there, and he often takes trips into remote areas to investigate new mining opportunities.’

Everything she had said was true, Sabrina assured herself. Her father often went abroad on what he called his adventures. But he had never stayed out of contact for this long. She had last spoken to Earl Bancroft when he had called her from a town somewhere in Guinea, but, after eighteen months when nothing had been seen or heard of him, Sabrina was seriously concerned for her father’s safety.

‘I’m afraid my father is incommunicado at the moment,’ she murmured.

There was something odd about the situation, Cruz mused. Something Sabrina wasn’t telling him. With difficulty he restrained his impatience.

‘Well, if I can’t talk to Earl Bancroft perhaps you will be able to help me. I believe your father has some information about the Montes Claros diamond mine. Before my father died, the earl showed Vitor a map of an abandoned section of the mine. The map is the legal property of the mine owner. You might be aware that I bought the mine six years ago, which means that the map belongs to me.’

Sabrina shrugged. ‘I don’t know anything about a map. I told you my father rarely confides in me about his business dealings.’

A vague memory pushed into her mind. At the time she hadn’t paid much attention to the incident, but Cruz’s words made her wonder about her father’s curious behaviour when she had walked into his study and found him looking at a document spread out on his desk. Earl Bancroft had snatched up the piece of paper before Sabrina had got a clear glimpse of it and thrust it into an envelope.

‘This is my pension fund for when I retire,’ he’d said, laughing. ‘It’s much safer to keep it hidden here at Eversleigh than in a bank.’