Kept At The Argentine's Command

Fragile, he told himself again. She’s fragile.

Lulu was aware that Alejandro was moving away from her and she had nowhere to hide. One minute she’d been trying to control her panic, the next she’d been tipped into something she hadn’t had a lot of in her twenty-three years—the feel, the scent, the excitement of a man kissing her. And not just any man. This man. This very masculine man, who knew exactly what he was doing.

Her heart had slammed against her chest as his mouth had slid against hers. It had been the most invigorating experience of her life.

She waited for him to say something, because for the life of her she had nothing. Zero.

‘All fixed now,’ he said, dropping the words into her lap as if he’d tossed her his hotel room key.

It wasn’t his words but the deliberation with which he wielded them that had her gaze flying to meet his. And then his meaning became clear.

Fixed? Lulu floundered with the concept. He’d done it on purpose? He hadn’t been carried away like her at all?

Mon Dieu, what a little fool she was.

Her heart was still galloping like a wild horse, and now it picked up pace for all the wrong reasons.

She was aware of him watching her from beneath hooded eyes...aware that he now knew a great deal more about her than he had minutes ago. More than any man knew, to her deep embarrassment. And he’d set her up. He’d done it to humiliate her.

Her hand shot out but he caught it before she found her target. ‘No slapping, mi belleza.’

Alejandro watched the struggle on her face and, as much as he welcomed the status quo between them being lodged once more in place, he knew he’d acted like a bastard.

And that was when he heard it. The rumble.

His attention moved across to the side rear-vision mirror and he saw what was coming.

Lulu wrenched her wrist out of his hold and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand to give him the message. ‘You’re never to do that again.’

‘Fine.’ He kept his eye on what was coming.

‘There’s a name for men who force themselves on unwilling women.’ She addressed him directly, unbuckling her belt.

That had his attention.

‘I didn’t use any force, querida.’ He was frowning at her. ‘You were with me the whole way. It’s called chemistry.’

‘I know what it’s called.’ She opened her door.

‘Where the hell are you going?’ he growled, not liking her spin on this.

‘Somewhere far away from you.’ Which was when she gave a shriek and slammed the door shut again.

Around them a sea of black-faced sheep surged, like something out of a biblical plague. The car rocked slightly with the force.

‘I probably should have mentioned that,’ Alejandro drawled, winding down his window. ‘We’ve got company.’

CHAPTER FIVE

I’M GOING TO DIE.

Lulu went stiff as a board as all around her the road just seemed to fill up with sheep.

‘Welcome to Scotland,’ said Alejandro, propping one arm casually on the door, as if floating in a sea of sheep happened regularly in Argentina.

A whimper had buried itself at the base of her throat, and she just knew that if she opened her mouth it would come out and humiliate her. But, really, how much worse could it get?

She had to speak. To make something happen.

‘Drive, why don’t you?’ she hissed at him a little desperately.

‘Where?’ He gestured at the woolly tide. ‘This is Scotland, chica. Here we give way to sheep.’

Lulu didn’t know if this was true or just more of him tormenting her. She suspected a little of both.

‘Besides,’ he added, ‘the back tyre’s shot.’

Forget the tyre! She was shot. Her mouth pulsed from his kiss and her body felt oddly light, but that might be shock setting in. Because those big, woolly mammoths with their black faces were turning her tummy to cold liquid and her pulse was going so fast she thought she might pass out.

This was worse than a two-hour flight from Paris to Edinburgh, or letting a man she had only known for a few hours at most plant a kiss on her.

This was her worst nightmare.

Because she couldn’t escape. And the knowledge that she was only inches away from a full meltdown in front of this man was probably the only thing keeping her upright and frozen in her seat.

She knew she should never have got in this car with him.

She had no more control over her anxieties than she’d possessed this morning before the flight, when she’d knelt over the porcelain bowl at home in her flat and lost her breakfast.

Dieu, what if she was sick again? In this car? He wouldn’t be kind. There wasn’t a kind bone in his body.

There was a click, and Lulu realised he’d opened his door.

‘What are you doing?’ she almost shrieked.

He looked surprised by her vehemence. ‘I’m going to have a word with the farmer,’ he said mildly. ‘It’s a damn sight better than sitting here. Come on.’

‘No!’ She clutched hold of his arm.

‘Or we could stay here and neck like a couple of teenagers,’ he said dryly.

Lulu let him go in a flash, and discovered she really was between a rock and a hard place.

‘Come on,’ he said more patiently. ‘Stretch your legs.’

Lulu flailed around for a reason not to—any reason. ‘I don’t like sheep. They’re smelly, and—’ she cast about for something...anything ‘—and I’ll wreck my shoes.’

He gave her a look that in all honesty she knew her comments deserved and her toes curled under inside said shoes. The last of the confident, take-on-the-world Lulu died inside her. The Lulu who had sprung to life in his arms and kissed him back barely had time to take flight. She was back to being useless.

What made it worse was that he shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him either way, which she guessed it didn’t.

‘Suit yourself, chica.’ He swung open his door and Lulu realised he was serious.

He was also back to calling her chica.

Lulu watched in tense dismay as he took off in easy strides down the road, all shoulders and masculine confidence, shouting out something to the two men driving the sheep. Obviously magic words, given they waited for him and then stood around conversing with him like old friends.

She sat forward, her nose almost to the glass, wondering what on earth they had to say to one another that was causing such a friendly, animated discussion. When he spoke to her all he did was rile her and growl. Or kiss her. Lulu hesitantly touched her mouth and swore she could still feel tingling.

A loud, long bleat sounded over her right shoulder and Lulu almost shot through the roof, any thoughts of kissing him shattering into a thousand pieces.

To her relief he came strolling back to the car. He leaned in.

‘Some of the connections are probably loose, I could fix it but it might happen again. Tell you what, I’ll give road assistance a call and organize another car. There’s a pub just down the road. We can wander down and wait for them there.’

Lulu knew this was the moment a normal, sensible woman would confess her problem. She would explain why there was no way she could get out, due to her difficulties, and they would come up with a solution together.

Only there wasn’t really a solution, was there? And right now she wasn’t a sensible woman. She was in the grip of a building panic attack.

Lulu heard herself say, ‘I have no intention of going anywhere.’

He straightened up, and for a long, awful moment Lulu thought he was going to turn around and leave her here.

Please don’t abandon me.

The words were forced up from deep inside her, where a small frightened girl was still cowering.

Then she realised he was walking away, and an awful cold feeling began to invade her limbs, only for him to stop at the front of the car.

‘Pop the hood,’ he called to her.

Lulu scrambled to obey him, jamming her middle with the gearstick but hardly noticing. He would never know how grateful she was that he wasn’t going anywhere, and she knew she was safe as long as she stayed in the car.

All she needed now was to keep her adrenal glands from overshooting the mark.

She fumbled in her bag for her handkerchief, soaked in lavender, peppermint and rosemary oil, and held it to her nose with one hand as she attached the earbuds to her mp3 player and pushed them into her ears with the other.

She shut her eyes and willed the meditation track she’d been listening to throughout the flight to drop her back into her own little world, where nothing could harm her.

Alejandro checked the connections and then opened the back door to grab a hand towel from the storage space under the front seat.

The little French princess was plugged into her music, a handkerchief at her nose to block out the odour of the sheep...the farmer...of anything that offended her delicate sensibilities. Which probably included him.

There’s a name for men who force themselves on unwilling women.

Bull.

He shut the rear door with a slam.

Lulu pulled the earbuds out and looked around with a start. She transferred her attention to the raised bonnet.

Which was when it occurred to her that he was at the wrong end of the car.

The sheep appeared to have moved on. Carefully she edged open the door and, when it felt safe, stepped out onto the road. Nothing happened. The ground didn’t tilt under her, and there was nothing but the smell of fresh grass and sheep manure and peat. She inhaled. It wasn’t bad.

Alejandro saw the flash of turquoise skirts disappear to the rear of the car. The boot came up.

He lowered the bonnet and came around to find Lulu wrestling the spare tyre out of the wheel well.

‘Should I ask what you’re doing?’

She ignored him, yanking at the tyre with both hands, moving it to the rim of the boot and then bouncing it onto the ground.

With a little lift of her chin she rolled it around to lean it against the side of the car.

‘I suppose a better question is do you know what you’re doing?’ he asked, his voice taking on a note of real amusement.

In answer, she retrieved the canvas bag tucked to the side of the wheel well, untied it and produced the wheel brace like a trophy, together with the jack and jack handle, which she laid out on the ground.

Alejandro gave her a grudging nod of respect and Lulu felt a small surge of confidence.

There was very little she had to thank her deadbeat dad for, but the fact that she could change a tyre, fix a leaky tap and unclog the drains in a bathroom were all down to a childhood when she hadn’t had a choice. Maman hadn’t been able to afford help—they’d had to do everything themselves.

‘You might want to take those shoes off first, querida,’ he suggested.

She gave that the disdainful look that comment deserved. ‘I’m an ex-ballerina. After pointes four-inch heels are nothing.’

Still, it was a bit of a wrestle to get the hubcap off and keep her balance, so he might have had a point, but once she had it free she used the wheel brace to loosen the nuts. She crouched down in a puff of satin and tulle underskirts and positioned the jack under the car.

She was aware that Alejandro was leaning over her for a closer look. Determined to do a good job, she began turning the jack handle and the car lifted with a slow creak.

When the wheel was clear of the ground she clasped it on either side and pulled.

The weight of it had her staggering backwards, and she gave an ‘ouf’ as Alejandro caught and steadied her.

Lulu had the oddest sensation that she would have liked to stay there, with his big solid body sheltering her and his hands sending all sorts of messages to parts of her she had grown used to ignoring.

‘That’s enough,’ he said in his deep voice. ‘I’ll finish this.’

For a moment Lulu had an altogether different image in her mind from the one she beheld as he let her go, stepped in and lifted the spare tyre with enviable ease, swiftly replacing all the wheel nuts with the brace and winding the jack in a reverse position to lower the car to the ground.

He’s turned me into a nymphomaniac, she thought. Who knew what he did to women who already liked sex?

He tightened the nuts and shoved the hubcap back into place, replaced the old wheel in the boot, along with the tools, and slammed down the lid.

Lulu had her hand out.

‘Give me the keys,’ she said.

Alejandro knew where this was going, but it was no skin off his nose. He handed them over.

She marched around to the driver’s seat, casting him a pointed look over the roof of the car. ‘Well, get in.’

He grinned and eased his muscled frame in beside her.

Violets. The scent was hot in his nostrils now. They flared appreciably.

She didn’t look like the girl he’d picked up this morning. Her dark curls were ruffled in a halo around a face that was reddened either from the wind or exertion or just sheer temper. Her dark eyes shone and her skirt was sadly crumpled. There was a grease stain on her top. But, with her jacket neatly folded on the back seat, she was showing off two neat little scoops of bosom above the tight neckline of her top.

He noticed that her shoes, now caked in mud, had been discarded in the passenger footwell and she had a look of fierce concentration on her face.

She looked exactly the way she had when he’d kissed her, wild and beautiful, and it sharpened his hunger for her.

She pulled out onto the road and took off.

‘You might want to watch your speed,’ he observed, unable to take his eyes off her.

‘You might want to tell me why you thought it was fine to leave me locked in a car in the middle of nowhere.’

‘You weren’t locked in, and I went to find out what we needed to know.’ He eyed her stained clothing. ‘What I can’t work out is why you put on that little show back there about not getting out of the car—’

‘None of your business.’

‘When you’re so clearly capable.’

She glanced at him, a little dumbfounded, then looked back at the road. He was glad she was concentrating on the road.

‘Yes, I am. Capable.’

‘Do you know where we’re going, querida?’

She changed gear and pushed those wild curls out of her eyes in a defiant gesture. ‘Of course I do.’

He noted the sign to Inverary as it flashed past. His gaze dropped to those twin scoops, rising and falling gently above her neckline, to the sensual pout of her lower lip above that jaunty little chin.

She looked so pleased with herself he decided not to inform her that they were going the wrong way. He was in no hurry to get to the castle, to be bored to death by talk of for ever and happy-ever-after. No... He settled back comfortably, folded his arms across his chest and pretended to close his eyes. He was going to let this run a little longer, and then, when she’d run out of steam and learned her lesson, he’d think about taking this chemistry between them to its natural conclusion.

* * *

Lulu peered out at the passing countryside. According to her map, shouldn’t they be approaching the motorway by now? It was growing dark, and it was raining, and she didn’t have a clue where they were.

The ribbon of road had grown narrower and it was impossible to read the signs. The headlights on the car lit up only the road ahead, making everything that lay outside it seem menacing and vaguely supernatural.

Lulu liked the countryside—in the daylight, and from the confines of a car, and preferably not stopping. But she was going to have to pull over. The fuel tank was bobbing close to empty.

She brought the car to a stop on the shoulder of the road. Then reached over and touched Alejandro’s impressive shoulder.

He felt warm and reassuringly powerful beneath her hand.

He didn’t stir.

She gave him a more definite push. ‘Mr du Crozier.’

No response.

‘Alejandro!’

Thick sable lashes lifted and his eyes gleamed speculatively over her in the same way the headlights lit up the road ahead. He was looking at her as if she were naked, which was disconcerting enough, and Lulu had a sudden, completely outrageous thought that he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

‘We appear to be lost,’ she said unwillingly.

‘You don’t say?’

His voice was husky, but not with sleep. Lulu swallowed.

There was something very intimate about their proximity, as if the darkness outside and the quiet within had made the space between them somehow more personal.

Lulu licked her lips. ‘I don’t know where we are.’

‘Fortunate, isn’t it,’ he said in that low, taunting voice, ‘that I do?’

He undid his seatbelt and opened the car door.

‘I’m driving,’ he said unnecessarily.

Lulu released the breath she hadn’t known she was holding and, rather than stepping outside, scrambled nimbly over the gearbox and tucked her skirts around her in the passenger seat.

Alejandro took the wheel and swung the car back out onto the road.

‘How do you know?’ she demanded.

‘I saw the last sign. We’re just outside Inverness.’

Relief swamped her. Then she frowned. ‘But you were asleep.’

‘Let’s just say I’m not a heavy sleeper, querida,’ he responded with a glint in his eyes.

She knew it! Impossible man. But her heart was pounding a little, and she found herself watching him and waiting to see what he’d do next.

Alejandro had them on the motorway within ten short minutes. Lulu discovered she was feeling a little out of sorts now her adventure was over.

She tried to envisage the weekend ahead on her own, and it was so depressing that in her head she found herself shaping sentences she didn’t know if she had the guts to go through with, let alone ask.

I’m on my own this weekend...you’re on your own. I’m maid of honour...you’re best man. Doesn’t it make sense if we pair up? Maybe you could kiss me again?

And that was when a huge gust of wind buffeted the car and all the available light left in the sky dwindled to nothing and the rain came down.

Alejandro slowed them to a crawl, along with the two or three other vehicles on the road.

‘Kilantree...’ she read from the sign ahead under the spray of their headlights. ‘One mile. Is Kilantree near Dunlosie Castle?’ she asked.

‘Not near enough.’

To her surprise, Alejandro eased the car into the turn-off lane.

‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s dark, it’s raining, and I don’t know these roads. We won’t make Dunlosie tonight.’

‘What does that mean?’

Although all of a sudden she did know, and for the first time in years having her routine destroyed didn’t bring on feelings of anxiety. Quite the contrary...

‘We’re spending the night here.’

CHAPTER SIX

THE DIRECTIONS THEY’D received at the pub in Kilantree’s main street took them just out of town and up a long steep drive to Mrs Bailey’s B&B. The place proved to be a fairly substantial cottage. The eponymous Mrs Bailey appeared in dressing gown and slippers.

‘Well, now, bring the lassie in—you’ll be blown away out there. How are you, m’dear? You look pale as a ghost! We’ve got one of those, but I’m sure it won’t bother you tonight.’

‘Ghost?’

Lulu’s eyes sought his. She didn’t look amused.

Alejandro was aware that her small hand had slipped into his.

‘It brings the tourists in, no doubt?’ he commented, and Mrs Bailey laughed.

‘Aye, it does—but that’s not to say it doesn’t exist. Come up these stairs. You don’t mind carrying your own luggage, do you? My husband is already in bed. He has a four a.m. start with the sheep.’

Lulu’s expression said, More sheep?

Alejandro suppressed a smile. He had to duck at the top of the stairs. The ceilings were low and age permeated the very beams of the place.

The older woman opened a door on a bedroom so snug the double bed itself and a chest of drawers took up most of the room.

There was an unlit fireplace that their landlady began fussing with.

‘We’ll have you warm in no time. I’ll bring ye up some dinner in a half-hour, if that suits. The bathroom is at the end of the hall and there are fresh towels.’

Lulu’s mouth had fallen open. ‘I am not sharing this room with you,’ she hissed as Mrs Bailey closed the door.

He was ready for this. ‘It’s fine, querida, I trust you.’

She rolled her eyes, but he noticed her gaze was expectant. He wasn’t going to be making the first move this time. He needed this to be very clearly her decision.

‘You should have explained the situation to her.’

He folded his arms.

‘There’s only one bed!’

‘Sí, it looks comfortable.’

It was her turn to fold her arms.

‘I’m afraid you’ll have to sleep on the floor,’ she said.

They both looked at the stretch of floorboards between them.

‘No,’ he said.

She flushed.

‘Maybe you can sleep in the chair,’ she suggested, as if she was being helpful.

He raised an eyebrow. ‘How about we toss a coin for it?’

She opened her mouth, and then at the expression on his face shut it.

He pulled a coin from his back pocket. ‘Heads or tails?’

‘Heads.’

He flipped the coin, slid his hand away. ‘Tails. I’ll give you a blanket.’

He could feel her eyes boring into him as he set about improving Mrs Bailey’s attempt at a fire. He was half minded just to scoop her off her feet and put her mind at rest. He had no intention of sleeping alone.

‘I need my things,’ she said, her voice a little loud given he was right there.

He shoved one of the logs deeper into the smouldering ash.

‘Are you going to do the right thing or make me go outside again?’

‘I’ll be a gentleman,’ he said, straightening up to find her watching him owlishly, ‘and get them.’

She backed up as he headed out. Timid as a dormouse.

‘The little blue case will be enough,’ she called after him when he was halfway down the hall. ‘And don’t shake it about.’

* * *

Alejandro was coming inside with the blue case he wasn’t supposed to shake when he met Mrs Bailey at the bottom of the stairs.

‘I’ll include a bottle of brandy with your dinner, laddie. Your wife looks like she needs a little warming up.’

Alejandro nodded a brief thanks, but knew the only thing warming up Lulu would be him.

If he’d been a less confident man he might have taken pause when Lulu met him at the top of the stairs, uttered an unconvincing ‘Merci beaucoup,’ snatched her suitcase and, with a suspicious look at him, as if he were a villainous seducer, fled for the bathroom at the end of the hall, slamming the door.

But confidence had never been his problem, and Alejandro grinned and went back downstairs to find out about their meal.

When he returned, carrying a wooden tray, Lulu was rummaging around in her suitcase. She looked up, her big brown eyes doing that uncertain thing again, but that was before she noticed the bottle under his arm and the two glasses wedged between his blunt fingers.

She leapt to her feet. ‘That’s my wedding crystal!’

‘Sí.’ He shrugged. ‘We’ll rinse them and they’ll never know.’

‘I’ll know!’

‘We can eat on the floor,’ he said, ignoring her outburst, and settled the tray on the hearth. Then he took a better look at her new outfit. It was wool, full-length, and buttoned up to her neck. ‘Whose grandmother did you steal that from?’

Lulu’s face fell as she glanced down at her dressing gown. ‘I heard that the Scottish nights are cold because of the North Sea,’ she said seriously.

‘The North Sea?’

‘Out there.’ She waved her hand vaguely at the wall.

By Alejandro’s calculations she was pointing inland, or at a stretch of the Atlantic.

He didn’t like her dressing gown, Lulu thought, tugging uneasily at the sleeves. But it was practical, and that was what mattered.