Reynard woke as sunshine streamed through the unshuttered windows. For a moment he was disoriented—both by the furnishings around him and the warm, lithe body sprawled across his. One part of his body, however, suffered no such disorientation.
In fact, that particular part of his body was creating undue influence on the state of his mind, particularly with the soft scent of Sara’s hair filling his nostrils and the exposed creamy skin of her legs entangled with his.
She’d lost some of her light golden tan, he noticed. He fought the urge to stroke his hand over the delicious length of thigh exposed by her nightshirt riding up over the gentle round globes of her buttocks. And a little weight, too, he’d wager. What on earth had she been up to while she was away?
Reynard closed his eyes and breathed in a slow, steady breath—but even as he did so, the blend of fragrance from her hair and the feminine scent of her skin intoxicated him, stirring his body even more. His eyes flashed open again. The deprivation of that sensory input had only served to sharpen everything else. Painfully so, if his current condition was any indicator.
He let his eyes wander over her slumbering form again. Whatever the changes in Sara, he couldn’t help but enjoy a certain voyeuristic pleasure in taking an eyeful while she still slept. Their open-ended engagement hadn’t covered morning talk, or morning anything, for that matter, until now. Perhaps it would be worth exploring things a little further by coaxing her awake the most pleasurable way he knew how.
The discreet chirp of his cell phone in the main room of the cottage was a stark reminder to keep himself in check. There were more serious considerations in his life right now than whether or not Sara tasted as good as she smelled.
He eased his body out from under hers, freezing for a moment as she muttered something in her sleep and then repositioned herself on the pillow he’d used. There were still purple shadows under her eyes and her face was still as pale as she’d been ever since the previous afternoon when she’d come to his office. Whatever she’d been doing recently, it hadn’t been restful, that much was certain. He adjusted his boxers and slipped from the room to answer his phone.
The news about Benedict, while not brilliant, was hopeful and it was time he relieved Alex and Loren in their vigil. He quickly showered and dressed into the change of clothes he’d brought last night and left a brief note explaining where he’d gone on the kitchen countertop.
She was still sleeping when he returned to the bedroom—he hadn’t been quite able to resist one last glance before he headed to the hospital. She’d moved again, and beneath the sheet he could see her foot stroking back and forth—a tiny movement, even as she slept—across the sheets. So she was a sensualist, he surmised, feeling the tight knot that hadn’t quite left him intensify low in his gut. Texture, sensation—he really had to stop torturing himself but he couldn’t tear his gaze away.
The edge of her shirt now rode even higher on those long slender legs, exposing the gentlest hint of the curve of her buttocks as she lay half-sprawled on her stomach, one arm pushed far under the pillow. The fabric of the top was thin, and pulled tight under her arm and across the swell of one breast.
Even as he watched, she shifted again. Rolling onto her back. His mouth dried. She was like a ripe peach. Her dark red hair spread in spiraling disarray around her face. Her eyelids flickered—no doubt she’d be awake soon. He debated crossing the short distance to the bed and placing a fleeting kiss on the lush pale pink width of her lips. Just the thought of doing so was enough to make his fingers tighten on the brass handle of the bedroom door.
He shook his head slightly. Rey quickly drew the bedroom door closed with a faint “snick” of sound. How did she do that, all of a sudden? How did she make him forget so quickly, so effortlessly, when before it had been she who had been so easily blurred from his thoughts?
Rina stretched against the cotton sheets and yawned—then sat bolt upright. Reynard? Where was he? She grabbed at the hem of her nightshirt and pulled it down hard, then, realizing how it stretched the material against her upper body, let it go again. She slipped from the bed and to the bedroom door, listening carefully for sounds of movement. Nothing.
Cautiously, she opened the door and listened again. While the noise of birds chattering wildly filtered through from outside, the cottage merely reflected an echo of emptiness.
Muscles she didn’t even know she’d tensed, eased as she realized he really was gone. She didn’t know just how well she’d have been able to keep up the charade. Which reminded her, she needed to get a hold of Sara and find out exactly when she planned to be back.
Rina found her BlackBerry and dialed her sister’s number. A frown pulled at her eyebrows as the call went straight through to voice mail. For a second she was tempted to hang up and just try again and again until Sara eventually answered, but she tempered that with the knowledge that her sister had never willingly and actively avoided her before, so she left a message.
“There’s been an accident. Benedict’s hurt. I’m sure they’re expecting me—or rather, you—at the hospital again today and I don’t know how long I can fake this. Please call me, Sara. Please?”
With an exasperated sigh she ended the call and walked across the cool tiled floor to the kitchen. On the bench she saw Rey’s note. Her eyes skimmed the words, written in a bold, slashing script. So he’d send a car for her about ten, would he? She looked at the wall clock above the kitchen stove. That gave her about two hours to get ready. And two hours to figure out how to tell him the truth about Sara. The prospect settled in her stomach like congealed oatmeal—heavy and completely unappetizing.
Rina gathered a set of fresh clothes and went to shower and get dressed. With any luck, she’d make it to the nearest town to get some much-needed groceries, and back, before facing Rey again for what, depending on his reaction, might be the last time ever.
The huge black bicycle, with a basket attached to the front, had Rina scratching her head for a few moments. Dare she risk it? There was no helmet, no chain guard, not even a set of gears on the thing—and judging by the cobwebs draping the frame it hadn’t moved past the lean-to shelter at the back of the cottage in some time.
She shuddered. She hated spiders. But as much as she hated spiders, she liked eating more, and her light breakfast had pretty much taken care of the remainder of the perishables in the house. She picked up a twig from a pile of kindling that was stacked just inside the lean-to, next to a larger pile of split wood, and carefully removed the spider webs before rolling the behemoth out into the sunlight and checking the tires.
The old bicycle pump, set on a bracket on the cross beam of the bike, thankfully lived up to its designated task of filling the tires with much-needed air. She cocked her head and listened. No telltale hiss anywhere. Deciding to err on the side of caution, Rina did a few short circuits up and down the road outside the cottage. Satisfied that the tires would hold, she gathered her wallet from inside, and the key, and popped them in the basket before rolling up the hem of her cotton trousers. Maybe white wasn’t quite the best choice, she thought as she straddled the bike and wobbled her way up the road.
She’d been pedaling for no more than a couple of kilometers when a dust cloud approached her from the distance. Since she’d figured out this was a private road, she was surprised to see another vehicle coming her way. And quickly, too, if the smear of dust particles in the air was any indicator.
As the vehicle drew closer, she recognized Reynard’s Ferrari. He slowed down and wheeled to a halt in the dirt road. Rina waited a moment for the dust to settle before getting closer.
His window rolled down and he leaned one arm along the open frame.
“What on earth are you doing?” he asked.
Rina bristled. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure it out, surely.
“I’m riding a bike. I need some supplies.”
“Since when did you ride a bike to get them?” he commented as he thrust open his door and unfolded his length from the car.
Her eyes drank in the sight of him. He was dressed in pale gray trousers, teamed with a long-sleeved, lightweight white knit sweater, with the sleeves pushed up to expose tanned muscled forearms with a light sprinkling of dark hair. His hazel eyes were obscured by a dark pair of designer sunglasses and his hair was swept off his forehead by the light breeze. Altogether he was a mouthwatering sight.
Realizing he was standing there waiting for an answer, she scoured her memory for what he’d just said and grabbed at the first thought that sprang to mind.
“I’m running out of a few things.”
“So why didn’t you just do as you always do and leave a list for the cleaner?”
Rina stifled a groan and mentally shook a fist at her sister for neatly landing her in it. She felt as if she had to walk on eggshells from here on in.
“I needed the exercise,” she explained with a shrug. “Besides, it’s a lovely morning and I wasn’t expecting you for a while yet. How’s Benedict today?”
“The doctors are talking about bringing him out of the induced coma today. Abuelo and Javier are at the hospital now so I thought I’d come and collect you early.”
“Right, well, you’d better follow me, then,” Rina suggested as she turned the bike around and hopped up on the worn saddle.
“Or we could just leave the bike here, and collect it when we come back,” Rey said with one eyebrow quirked as if all his humor at the sight on her on the bike was hidden behind those dark lenses of his.
“No, I couldn’t do that. It might get stolen. What would the owners say?”
“Sara, stop pulling my leg. I am the owner—of the cottage and everything in it. Or at least my family is, anyway. You know that.”
Rina suddenly put it all together. The beautiful golden castillo she’d seen through the kitchen window by the cliff tops only a mile or two away. Reynard’s surname. That whole sense of entitlement and privilege that she’d sensed about him and his brother from the minute she’d laid eyes on them. That also explained why Sara was staying at the Governess’s Cottage. It was a family property; where else would one’s fiancée stay if they weren’t actually staying with you?
“Well, I’d still rather put it away. Don’t want to get on the wrong side of you or anything,” she half joked.
The tiny pull at the corner of his lips sent a zing straight to her chest. Serious faced, he was handsome as sin, but with that quirky little half smile he was devastating. She began to pedal, hoping that she wouldn’t do anything stupid like wobble right off the road and into a ditch. She heard the slow purr of his car’s engine as he cruised along behind at a snail’s pace.
Every time her feet depressed the pedals she was conscious of how her backside must look to him. Of how the cotton pants she wore stretched tight across her buttocks and thighs. By the time she reached the cottage she was hot and flustered. Noticing that she’d smeared some chain grease on her pants leg, despite her efforts to the contrary, she excused herself to change before they left for the hospital.
Eschewing her own suitcase, she thrust open the doors to Sara’s wardrobe and grabbed the first thing she found on a hanger. The fact it was a light floral dress with a background of mint green and a designer label on it that shrieked a budget far higher than Rina usually allowed herself for clothing was merely a side benefit, she decided as she yanked off her shirt and trousers and then shimmied into the dress. Sara always did prefer to spend her money rather than sock it away for a rainy day, and for once, Rina wholeheartedly approved.
She knew Sara wouldn’t begrudge Rina borrowing her clothes, had in fact even suggested it, but Rina had the feeling this particular dress was special. It certainly felt that way as the deliciously soft fabric whispered across her legs as she slid her feet into a pair of matching open toe pumps.
She quickly stepped into the bathroom to freshen her makeup and to check her phone surreptitiously. At last! A text from Sara. Rina groaned under her breath in frustration. Was it too much to ask for her runaway sister to have finally responded at a time when Rina could call or text her back? Rina scanned the message.
Sori I hvn’t been in touch. I hope things r ok with Ben. Pls, whateva u do, don’t tell Rey wot I’ve done. Will call u soon. Luv u sis. Sx
Rina’s heart sank. She’d geared herself up to give Reynard the full story and now here was Sara once more begging her not to. It made her sick to her stomach but despite her own feelings on the matter she decided to give Sara that little extra leeway. With any luck, she’d be back in a day or so and everything would be fine.
Reluctantly, she switched the phone to silent mode. If Sara called now she’d have to go to voice mail. Rina sincerely doubted she’d be able to carry off a phone conversation with her twin while said twin’s fiancé sat next to her in the close confines of his car. And, of course, the hospital expected cell phones to be switched off in the high dependency unit where Benedict was currently being cared for. Rina remembered that much at least from when their father had suffered his last, fatal heart attack.
“Sara? Are you ready? We really need to get back now.”
Rey’s voice outside the bathroom door made her start. She turned on a faucet and let cool water splash over her wrists for a second before snapping it off.
“Just a minute. I’m nearly done,” she called over her shoulder.
She grabbed her perfume and spritzed a tiny amount behind each ear before grabbing the length of her hair and twisting it up into a loose knot secured with a handful of Sara’s pins. There was one advantage in having the same untamed mass of long red hair—they both tended to wear it in very similar styles. There. She could handle anything, she decided as she looked at herself in the mirror. Anything that didn’t get too personal, at least.
As they left the cottage she heard Rey inhale softly.
“Nice perfume. It’s different from your usual.”
Rina swallowed against the gasp of irritation that rose in her throat. She hadn’t even thought about what perfume Sara had been wearing. Her sister had always preferred the spicier floral, oriental-based perfumes while she herself was more a light floral fragrance person. It was yet another example of how careful she was going to have to be to carry this off properly.
She turned and smiled at Rey, slipping on a pair of sunglasses so he couldn’t see the lie in her eyes. Sara always warned her that she gave too much away.
“It’s something I picked up while I was away. Do you like it?”
From behind her, Rey leaned in and inhaled again, his lips mere centimeters from the curve of her neck.
“Mmm, yeah, I do.”
A frisson of awareness shot down Rina’s spine with the velocity of lightning, leaving a fierce sizzle throbbing in its wake. She stumbled a little, steadying as Rey’s hands shot out to anchor her.
“I’m okay,” she hastened to say, pulling from his light clasp before she could enjoy getting too close.
What was it she had told herself only minutes ago? About handling things provided it didn't get too personal? Right now, it looked as if that was to be her biggest obstacle because despite everything, she was left fighting against a desire to get very personal indeed.