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Torn By Desire
Natalie Fox


Two brothers… both rich and gorgeous… .Which was the right man for Kate? Kate knew she must make up her mind soon - because her clever, beautiful boss, Lorraine, was only too eager to become the mistress of a Latham brother! But where did Kate's destiny lie… with coolly sophisticated Conrad, or hot-blooded heartbreaker Guy?Her instincts told her that Guy was the man for her, and he seemed to agree! But still, Kate felt restless and torn by desire… .









Table of Contents


Cover Page (#u7d236040-fac6-575a-8cae-9f869d54de55)

Excerpt (#u75b3ffb3-1e96-5a59-96d5-a48dc7a94e49)

About the Author (#ue010810e-f84f-5048-a853-bf44340cfa7e)

Title Page (#u9d94cdf2-681f-5d31-9423-d508dd025ebc)

Chapter One (#u9569b6c8-0367-542a-93d2-827c8bd00748)

Chapter Two (#u138145ec-45fa-5e0c-9521-f5ada51e43df)

Chapter Three (#u456be82f-bca1-5be7-96d3-fbc4349bc2c7)

Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




“My brother might find you a bitter disappointment.”


“And what is that supposed to mean?” Kate asked.



“It means that my brother has high expectations.” He afforded her a small smile and leaned even closer to her. “My brother plays games and sometimes he doesn’t stick to the rules. He invariably wins.”



“I’m not listening to this—”



“Don’t forget, Kate, I’m on your side.”



“Who’s taking sides?” she blurted out.



“You will when the time comes. Take care, sweetheart,” he warned. “Don’t play games with my brother. He’s off-limits to a little gold digger like you.”


NATALIE FOX was born and brought up in London, England, and has a daughter, two sons and two grandsons. Her husband, Ian, is a retired advertising executive, and they now live in a tiny Welsh village. Natalie is passionate about her three cats, two of them strays brought back from Spain where she lived for five years, and equally passionate about gardening and writing romance. Natalie says she took up writing because she absolutely hates going out to work!


Torn by Desire

Natalie Fox






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




CHAPTER ONE (#ulink_f91ede26-d770-5710-ad0e-74dfa88c1348)


‘GUY LATHAM?’ Kate wailed, flicking her shoulderlength auburn bob behind her ears and swinging round from her computer to face Ed Hughes, head of her section.

‘I thought that would bring a flush of colour to your cheeks.’ Ed drawled knowingly.

Oh, how wrong could he get? If she was sporting a flush it certainly wasn’t with fiery anticipation at the mention of Guy Latham. The flush had been brought about by Ed’s announcement that she was to fly down to Marbella tonight to help out at the Spanish division of the company. Conrad, the elder of the two Latham brothers who owned the firm, usually handled that end of the commodity-broking company from the Latham villa in Marbella, and twice a year he flew privileged London staff down to familiarise them with what was going on. This time Conrad had picked her so was it any wonder she was glowing? Guy Latham accompanying her on the trip certainly wasn’t flush-inducing.

‘Th-this isn’t a wind-up?’ Kate breathed, wide-eyed and scarcely able to believe her good fortune. No, not good fortune. In nine months she’d been a conscientious worker and Conrad, for the second time, was showing his appreciation. The first time, last month, on one of his monthly flying visits to the UK, he had stayed long enough to praise her work to the hilt and take her out to dinner. He’d been the most perfect of escorts, a true gentleman in every sense of the word, and by the end of the evening she’d thought she was a little bit in love with him.

‘No wind-up, sweetheart. You’re definitely booked on a flight tonight.’

Kate was over the moon and her heart was just a little racy. Conrad wanted her and maybe…She gave an inward shiver of anticipation. Conrad was gorgeous. The only black spot on her dizzy horizon was travelling down to Marbella with Conrad’s awful brother, Guy ‘Lothario’ Latham.

If ever there was a man Kate detested it was Guy. If ever there was a man Kate secretly worshipped it was Conrad. A real man. Mature, with taste and sophistication and a solid business head on his broad shoulders. Guy Latham did nothing for Kate’s pulse rate, though every female in the company would think her certifiable if she ever admitted it. She had once, though, and learnt her lesson.

‘I can’t see what you all see in the egotistical creep,’ Kate had murmured after one of Guy’s morning sweeps through the office. Oh, boy, did he know what he had and how to use it. One steelyeyed look from those piercing dark eyes, the merest hint of a cynical white smile, and anything in a skirt melted at his feet in adoration.

‘Huh, you don’t fool me, Kate Stephens.’ Lorraine Hunter had snapped. ‘Why should you be any different? The man is every woman’s fantasy hero—tall, dark, drop-dead good-looking, dangerous and desirable. If you can’t see that, you must be severely visually impaired. I suppose you think by being standoffish with him he’ll want you all the more. Forget it, Guy doesn’t bother with challenges.’

Very true. He didn’t have to. Women dropped submissive at his feet all the time—and they were welcome. Fortunately Kate had little contact with him anyway but she felt that if she did sparks would fly because one thing about a man she couldn’t abide was arrogance and the knowledge that he only had to snap his fingers and some silly female would come running. She was still raw from a previous relationship with someone cast in a similar mould and wasn’t looking for further punishment.

No, Guy didn’t raise her pulse rate one degree, but—Lorraine adored him and obviously thought Kate was playing hard to get in the hope of snapping him up, and the wrath of Lorraine she could live without. She’d kept her observations to herself after that particular run-in with her.

‘And Lorraine is going down with you as well.’ Ed added, and came round her console to perch his lean frame on the end of it.

Kate swung back to face her computer and stared gloomily at the screen. That was all she needed. Lorraine was one of that rare breed of women with beauty and brains and knew it. For some reason she had never taken to Kate but tolerated her because she couldn’t find fault with her work. Kate was good at it and longed for promotion but Lorraine was blocking her way. Lorraine’s job of marketing manager was the exalted position Kate would have liked for herself but unless Lorraine left there wasn’t much chance. And Lorraine wasn’t likely to leave while Guy Latham was still single. Her surname wasn’t Hunter for nothing.

‘Of course, you know what that means, don’t you?’ Ed went on, a teasing edge to his tone.

Kate tilted her chin to look at him directly, her dark eyes sparkling, trying to inject genuine interest into them for Ed’s sake. He loved a good gossip and that was obviously where all this was leading. ‘No, I don’t, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me,’ she trilled.

Oh, how Kate had despised this in-house chitchat when she had first joined the company, but it seemed to be a way of life to them all. She was used to it now but never partook in it herself, always holding back because she had nothing to offer. She wasn’t in the least bit romantically interested in Guy Latham, who to Kate epitomised most men’s chauvinistic attitude to women, Conrad an exception, of course.

Ed grinned widely and leaned towards her. ‘It means that you haven’t much chance with Guy Latham when Lorraine is around,’ he said teasingly.

Like I’m interested, Kate thought sarcastically. She gave Ed a disappointed grimace and a slight shrug of her narrow shoulders because that was what he expected. It had never occurred to him that she might be the only woman in the world immune to Guy’s dubious charms.

‘So they are an item at last, are they?’ Kate asked, though it really didn’t interest her one little bit.

‘Well, his attention to her lately sure looks that way and Lorraine is hardly Miss Innocent,’ Ed told her conspiratorially.

Sometimes the men were worse than the women, Ed being a case in point, Kate thought, trying to look interested, her brown eyes still wide with forced curiosity.

‘They have had their moments,’ Ed went on, ‘and it looks like they are in for a few more. Hot, balmy Mediterranean nights and all that. It wouldn’t surprise me if they really got it together down there.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘And you’ll be on hand to report back.’

‘I’ll be on hand to do a job of work, Ed Hughes,’ Kate retorted, not able to hide the disgust in her voice this time.

Ed laughed and shifted off her console to pat her head piously. ‘Now if that isn’t a dead give-away I don’t know what is.’

Kate suppressed a sigh of protest. Best not to say anything. No one could ever believe that there was a female in the company who hadn’t been bowled over by that dangerous but desirable Guy Latham. Thank God she had never admitted that she admired Conrad more; she’d never have lived it down. Not that Conrad was unattractive—he was betterlooking than his younger brother in Kate’s eyes. But he was deemed totally unavailable because of serious wealth and seniority and not being around very much, whereas Guy was in the office most days, overseeing the business with steely determination and fluttering female hearts. To Kate he was a bore and a boor.

‘So what are my instructions? I’ll be flying down tonight, you said…’

Kate only half listened to his instructions for her as she gazed past him. It was early August and rain was shushing against the office window. ‘Hot, balmy Mediterranean nights’ evoked thoughts of love and romance even in a heart as hardened as Kate’s.

Deep inside she longed for love but bitter experience had taught her it was but a dream. She’d lived that dream with Gustav for a short time then the nightmare had set in. One woman hadn’t been enough for him but he hadn’t had the courage to tell her to her face; it had been left to friends to enlighten her, all the more painful to bear because of bruised pride.

Her mother’s attitude hadn’t helped. She’d warned her against him and then hit her with ‘I told you so’ when it hadn’t worked out. All men were the same, according to her mother, who had been cheated on by Kate’s father right from the start of their turbulent marriage.

Kate reluctantly had to agree with her, Guy Latham being a prime example of everything Kate was wary of in a man. He was conceited and arrogant and had an ego as whopping as Canary Wharf, but Conrad was something else—a true gentleman, a much nicer, gentler man. A real man. Concentrate, Kate warned herself. This was work and not pleasure. She wanted promotion, didn’t she? It meant more to her than any man ever could but, on the other hand …if she ever fell, Conrad was certainly in line to be ‘fell upon’!

‘No, not there, Kate. Behind us. Guy and I have some things to go over,’ Lorraine Hunter coolly ordered.

Without a word of protest Kate moved to the row behind them in the business-class section of their flight. She was quite surprised that she hadn’t been relegated to the back of the aircraft with all the noisy tourists. It was obvious that Lorraine resented her being asked down to Marbella and it was obvious that Guy Latham wondered why she had been picked too.

He had hardly directed a handful of words her way. But that wasn’t unusual. Macho man he might be but he had never considered her in line for a conquest so never bothered with her. To him she was part of the office furnishings.

Watching the backs of their heads as the aircraft took off, Lorraine’s glossy red-gold, Lothario’s glossy blue-black, almost touching as they leaned together to go over some paperwork on their laps, Kate was able to reflect that at least those two were destined for a good time together—but would it last?

Kate supposed she was cynical about the whole concept of love and romance, being an only child from a broken marriage. Her father had eventually left her mother for another woman when Kate was small and she had cut her teeth on her mother’s bitterness. But at eighteen she had fallen hopelessly in love with Gustav, in Austria where they had been living at the time. Her mother’s predictions had come horribly true and, chastened by the whole painful business of love, she had concentrated on her studies rather than on men.

Conrad was different, though. On landing the job at Latham’s Kate had, for the first time in her life, met a man she couldn’t help admiring. Here was an older, mature man who could be trusted, the sort who once he fell in love would give his all. Kate closed her eyes and lost herself in a silly, dreamy fantasy to pass the time.

She felt something being eased onto her lap and blinked open her eyes. She glanced down to see the flight magazine and, lying across it, a single red carnation. Her eyes widened and she looked up to see Guy Latham towering over her, all macho arrogance in a lightweight pale grey suit with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows like some stylish movie star. He was smiling, not openly or even in a friendly way—just the small, arrogant smile he used when dealing with the opposite sex.

Kate’s stomach tightened and she glanced at Lorraine who was obviously sound asleep with her golden head lolling to one side.

Guy bent down, so close to her that she smelt his cologne. Quite seductively unobtrusive, she noted with surprise. Someone with taste must have bought it for him!

‘There’s an article in there that might interest you,’ he said softly in her ear.

Kate widened her eyes again in surprise. How could he possibly know what might interest her? He didn’t know her.

He said nothing more but turned away to speak to the stewardess who had been hovering hopefully and Kate hadn’t a chance to flick through the magazine as the seat-belt sign flashed on.

She was still clutching the single red carnation when they landed but quickly discarded it when she realised that it was the one off his meal tray.

The hot Mediterranean air hit them as soon as they disembarked and Kate felt a thrill of excitement. Though it was dark now it somehow added to the buzz of exhilaration inside her. She had travelled widely with her mother, who was a travel writer, and it always excited her.

A chauffeur-driven Mercedes awaited them outside Málaga airport and Lorraine made sure she was squarely seated between her and Guy, which greatly amused Kate. Lorraine just wasn’t taking any chances.

‘I adore Marbella,’ Lorraine enthused as they sped along the busy motorway, west out of Málaga. ‘The Spaniards sure know how to live, don’t they, Guy? Look at it. Midnight and they are just starting. I could settle here, you know. Sun and the marvellous nightlife…’

She babbled on and Kate closed off, gazing out of the window at the busy hotels, tall palm trees and sparkling lights. She wondered what went on behind the gloss, down the little narrow alleyways with the muddle of whitewashed terraced houses leaning against each other, their tiny balconies dripping geraniums and bougainvillea.

Lorraine nudged her knee. ‘You’re being spoken to, Kate. Pay attention,’ Lorraine seethed.

‘Sorry?’

Guy repeated, ‘Is it your first time?’

‘First time what?’ she asked, leaning forward to acknowledge his question. She hoped Lorraine wasn’t going to patronise her all the time in front of the Latham brothers. So she was fairly new to the company, but she wasn’t a gauche little mouse.

‘First time abroad,’ Lorraine snapped irritably.

‘Hardly’, Kate murmured, leaning back in her seat. It struck her that Lorraine was very stiff sitting next to her. She wondered why. ‘I went to school in Switzerland and lived in France and Austria for ten years, and when I wasn’t studying I travelled with my mother; she writes travel guides,’ she told them.

She heard Guy laugh softly.

‘Proper little Eurochild, aren’t you?’ Lorraine said under her breath, and Kate heard another small laugh from Guy.

I’m not going to enjoy this, Kate suddenly thought as they swept off the motorway. Already she could feel Lorraine’s animosity towards her. At twenty-two she wasn’t a child but if Lorraine kept undermining her this way…But then, when had it been any different since she’d joined the company? Kate was good at her work and for some reason Lorraine resented that, though her position in the company hadn’t been achieved by her just being a beautiful face. Sometimes Kate didn’t understand women, even less so when Lorraine suddenly acted so unsophisticatedly that it almost took Kate’s breath away.

‘Oh, Guy!’ Lorraine breathed ecstatically, leaning across him to gaze out of his side of the car. Security gates had swished open on their approach to the Lathams’ villa. ‘Have you ever seen anything like that?’

Which was a pretty dumb question, Kate thought, seeing as Guy was part owner of the property. But Kate supposed that she was trying to ingratiate herself with him and acting madly impressed.

So, it was a great-looking place, way over the top for Kate’s modest tastes, and she felt a small thrum of disappointment. It screamed out the status of its owners. Kate had honestly believed Conrad to have more conservative taste. It was brashly floodlit for one thing, giving the villa a pinky movie-town glow about it. A Hollywood-style pool surrounded by strident palm trees was the main focal point in front of the villa. The house was sprawling, pink and red-roofed, with an ornate wrought-iron balcony running across the top floor and decorative shutters at the windows. The patios below were of pink-hued marble with reproduction figurines and statues and lush potted plants dotted around. Pillared archways led to the gardens surrounding the secluded property and were floodlit too and promised fragrant walks amongst stunning tropical vegetation—if you could bear the glare of the pinktinted lighting.

Perhaps it was just fatigue that added to this feeling of disappointment inside Kate at the sight of such gross lavishness. But this was Guy’s property too, she reasoned, and flashness was a definite part of his nature, so perhaps it was his taste more than his brother’s.

Staff suddenly descended on them from the villa and the disappointment was heightened when Conrad didn’t appear and Kate found herself and her bags taken over by a maid who introduced herself as Charo and spoke fairly good English. Charo—pretty, dark-haired and olive-skinned, about the same age as Kate—led her round the side of the villa, away from Guy and Lorraine, who were heading towards the front entrance, Lorraine hanging onto Guy’s arm and neither of them even glancing back to see if Kate was following.

‘Señor Latham thought you would be more comfortable in the guest house,’ Charo told her with a beaming smile.

Kate’s heart went into reverse and dejectedly she followed, reminding herself that she was here to work. Lorraine got the main house with Guy and she was consigned to the crummy old guest house, tucked out of the way. And there was she nurturing thoughts that Conrad might have specifically asked for her to be sent over, with amorous intentions in mind. She was more than likely spare to requirements in the London office.

‘Oh,’ Kate breathed, her hand going to her throat in delicious surprise. Charo had just opened an arched oak door in a white wall and stepped back to let Kate enter. The door opened into a cobblestoned courtyard—a courtyard so olde-worlde and hot and scented and dripping with grapevines from the dark wooden beams overhead that Kate was overwhelmed. It was lit, but only just. Candles burned in black iron sconces on the rough white walls. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she uttered in surprised awe.

Charo looked happy that she found it so agreeable. ‘It’s the best part of the estate, the original old finca. The rest it came later. Señor Latham love this place. Come inside. I show you.’

Overwhelmed with relief that this was Conrad’s personal taste, Kate followed her into the cool, stone-floored house, her heart thudding nervously as Charo showed her round. Conrad had thought she would like this in preference to the opulence of the main house; it was an exciting thought.

It was furnished beautifully with Spanish antiques, nothing over the top. Simple, peasant-type antiques and old Turkish rugs on the polished terracotta floor occupied the spacious main room downstairs. There were several shallow steps and an archway leading to another room. One wall was lined with books, a huge fireplace dominated another, and paintings and small windows adorned another. Upstairs there were three bedrooms, none over-sized. All had old Spanish beds with carved wooden frames and downy mattresses with heavy lace bedspreads. There was matching lace at the open windows. The scent of jasmine perfumed the air from the courtyard below.

The two bathrooms were sympathetic additions to the original rooms, white and gold and cool, and downstairs Charo showed her the small, efficient kitchen that she wasn’t expected to use.

‘I cook your breakfast and lunch and you dine at the villa in the evening. Señor Latham wanted this part kept away from the main house, so it does not connect. You have to go back the way we came, through the garden.’ Charo smiled. ‘You like the guest house?’

Kate nodded and smiled happily. ‘It’s lovely,’ she enthused. This was Conrad’s taste, not that pretentious villa beyond. And he had allocated it to her. She was overwhelmed with happiness and flattered beyond measure. It was a very special, secret place and already she was in love with it.

‘You very lucky,’ Charo told her in the main room downstairs as Kate wandered around, smoothing her fingertips over the polished surface of the dark wood dining table. ‘Señor Latham allows no one here,’ she said meaningfully.

Kate’s head shot up and her heart started pounding recklessly as she stared at Charo, whose dark eyes were sparkling mischievously. Charo laughed at her expression. ‘I unpack for you.’

‘No,’ Kate told her quickly with a smile. ‘I’d rather do it myself.’ She wanted to be alone to take all this in. It was beyond her wildest expectations but a little unnerving. The implications of it all were too much for the moment. ‘Thank you, Charo. I’d like to shower and go to bed and—’

‘But dinner is being prepared at the villa. My mother, she cooks for everyone.’

‘Dinner?’ Kate glanced at her watch. She couldn’t eat at this time of night, or rather the early hours of the morning. ‘No dinner.’ She smiled at Charo again. ‘Please make my excuses.’ Much as she wanted to see Conrad again and to thank him for his thoughtful hospitality, she really was on her last legs.

Half an hour later she was in bed. Cool and relaxed after a long, warm shower. She slept like the proverbial log.



Coffee! She could smell coffee brewing and bacon grilling. Delicious. She stretched luxuriously in the downy bed. Sun filtered dreamily into the room and cicadas serenaded the last remnants of sleep from her muddled head. Charo was cooking her breakfast. I could get used to this, she thought as she yawned and relished another long stretch. But she was here to work.

Reluctantly she got up, washed and dressed quickly in cool white cotton trousers and a canary-yellow camisole top, and, slipping on flip-flops, dashed downstairs. Hopefully Charo would fill her in on the routine here—something Lorraine and the awful Guy had omitted to tell her. She hadn’t a clue what time she was expected to start work.

‘Charo!’ she called. She followed her nose and the aroma of coffee led her out into the shady but still very warm courtyard.

Kate stopped dead in her tracks and let out a small ‘Oh’ of surprise.

Guy Latham sat at the wooden table under the grapevine, looking coolly elegant in off-white linen trousers and a crisp white shirt, a somewhat surprising multi-hued silk tie at his throat. It was hotvery—but he looked cool, if a little formal for such a climate. His dark hair was slicked back and was still damp from a shower. Kate took all this in because she had time. He was sitting drinking coffee and reading the business section of the Observer and might have been in London instead of the jetset paradise of Marbella.

He looked up, saw her hovering and then glanced back at his paper.

‘I don’t think you are appropriately dressed for work, do you?’ he said without looking at her, as if once was enough.

Oh, first mistake. She should have checked. She felt herself blushing hotly and in confusion went to turn back into the house.

‘Hold it! Come back here. Sit down. Charo!’ he called out. ‘Bring Kate’s breakfast and pronto!’

Kate was frozen to the spot now, wondering if he had come to fetch her. Was she late?

He looked up again, sighed in exasperation, folded his paper up neatly and pointed to the wooden chair across the table from him.

Kate crossed the courtyard, sat down and stared at him, feeling a chill of apprehension run through her. She hadn’t expected to find him sitting in the courtyard and his abrasive tone was a shock too. Charo put a breakfast plate of bacon, eggs and tomatoes down in front of her and disappeared back into the house. Kate sat mutely and watched him pour coffee for her.

‘You haven’t been briefed, have you?’ he said coldly.

‘Briefed?’ she uttered weakly.

‘Obviously not.’ He didn’t look very pleased, as if it were her fault.

‘Lorraine should have told you,’ he said, pushing the coffee-cup towards her. ‘Just because the climate is different here it’s no excuse for sloppiness. You’re late, not appropriately dressed and-’

‘Just a minute.’ Kate rallied, putting two and two together and coming up with a typical Lorraine putdown. Lorraine hadn’t said a word to her about schedules and expectations and that wasn’t surprising. Lorraine didn’t like her. ‘I’m sorry if I’m late, sorry if my attire doesn’t meet with your approval, but—’

‘Sweetheart, don’t give me a hard time,’ he interrupted lazily. ‘You can come on to me any time in see-through silk and I won’t complain but—’

‘Don’t speak to me that way!’ Kate shot back, and was on her feet in a trice, seeing her career slipping away without trace. She wasn’t going to be spoken to as if she were another to add to his entourage of adoring women.

‘That’s what I like,’ he drawled. ‘A woman with spirit. Sadly it isn’t what turns my brother on. Are you getting my drift?’

Wide-eyed, Kate gaped at him. ‘No, I’m not getting your drift,’ she retorted heatedly, clenching her fists at her sides.

‘Sit down, then, and let me tell you about it.’

Sensibly Kate did as she was told, regretting her outburst but only just holding onto her temper.

‘Eat before your breakfast gets stale. I’ll do the talking and then if you have anything to offer you’re welcome to give it a try.’ He leaned back in his chair and watched her with dark eyes fringed with thick black lashes.

Kate averted her eyes to the breakfast in front of her. She was starving but couldn’t eat, so numb with shock that she couldn’t move to pick up the fork. Shakily she managed to reach for the coffee-cup.

‘You need more than caffeine to nourish that skinny little body of yours. Now pick up that knife and fork and eat, because if you don’t I’m going to have to do it for you and I will,’ he threatened darkly.

Kate shot him a look of pure poison. He really was the most arrogant pig she had ever met. He was also one of her bosses. She started to eat.

‘That’s better.’

Kate gripped her cutlery tightly and glared at him. He might be her boss but she didn’t have to take this patronising attitude.

‘And that’s enough,’ she told him firmly. ‘I don’t like being spoken to in that tone and I don’t like being ordered around this way. So I’ve put my foot in it this morning, but I’m pleading ignorance and I’ve apologised. I’m not a three-year-old and I’m not stupid. Correct my mistake and give me a dressing down but don’t, just don’t patronise me.’ She started eating and when she looked up at him he was smiling at her—thinly.

‘You’re executive material, you know.’

‘Really,’ she mumbled between mouthfuls. Here we go, she thought; he was trying to flatter her now that she had shown a bit of rebellion. She wondered if she was the first to have stood up to him.

‘I’m only trying to be helpful,’ he said in a softer tone. ‘Think yourself lucky you are being addressed by me this morning and not my brother.’

‘I’m grateful,’ she uttered.

‘Sarcasm doesn’t become you. Now listen to me, Kate Stephens, and listen good because I’m on your side.’

Kate listened, Oh, yes, she listened, because she knew already that she had overstepped the mark. The trouble was, Guy Latham didn’t impress her one bit. She didn’t need to kowtow to him because she knew she was good at her job. So she was being a bit risky with him, but she hadn’t been asked down here to Marbella for nothing. Only the best got asked and Conrad had put her in his favored guest house and that counted for something. But she mustn’t push her luck with his brother all the same.

‘Go on,’ she murmured compliantly.

‘We start work at nine. We dress as we would in an office environment in the UK. The office suite is air-conditioned so you shouldn’t suffer any discomfort. My brother expects high standards. This is no different a routine from the usual. We work the same way as we do in the UK.’

Conrad would expect high standards, of course. Kate saw that now and she would respect his wishes because she respected him, though she ruefully thought that a less austere routine would be easier to live with in this heat. Never mind.

‘I will deal with Lorraine myself because she should have told you all this,’ Guy went on. ‘And I’ll smooth over your lateness with Conrad and I’ll also explain you had a headache or something last night and retired to—’

‘What do you mean?’

He eyed her levelly across the table. ‘You were expected to dine with us last night and—’

‘I wasn’t asked!’ Kate protested.

‘You were told. Charo told you.’

Yes, she remembered. Embarrassment engulfed her and she swallowed it down hard ‘I…I didn’t realise and I was tired. I didn’t realise I was expected to take my orders from the maid.’

‘You take orders from me, Kate,’ he told her, scraping his chair back and getting to his feet. His dark, moody eyes met hers. ‘Remember that and save yourself unnecessary stress. You answer to me, understand?’

Kate nodded and wished she weren’t there. Marbella palled and those hot, balmy Mediterranean nights were but a figment of an overactive imagination. This was all turning into a video nasty, with Guy Latham in the starring role. Poor me, Kate thought as she mumbled, ‘I’d better get changed, then.’

‘Anything I can do?’ he breathed suggestively.

‘Yes,’ Kate returned defiantly. ‘Keep out of my way.’

‘And what exactly is that supposed to mean?’ he questioned darkly.

Actually she wasn’t sure. She supposed it was some sort of warning. After all, he thought himself a gift to women, but surely he wasn’t trying it on with her? No, she was sure he wasn’t because he’d had nine months to try and not once had he shown her any interest.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said in response after deciding that a quiet life was very preferable to riling Guy Latham. She didn’t want to be thrown off this job before it had even started. ‘I’m overreacting. This is my first assignment down here and I’m not at all sure of the procedure. I’ll get changed and then perhaps we can start all over again.’ She gave him a hesitant smile and he simply nodded.

‘I’ll wait for you,’ was all he said as Kate turned away.

That was something at least, Kate pondered as she hurried upstairs to change into something more businesslike. Lorraine she would tackle later for not preparing her for this. Her reason was obvious. To belittle Kate in the Latham brothers’ eyes. Guy, surprisingly, had offered her a helping hand. He probably felt sorry for her. Well, sorry she didn’t need from him.




CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_87597708-024d-5c15-9d13-825089f23ffe)


‘KATE. So sorry to hear of your travel sickness. I trust you are feeling better this morning and are eager to get down to some work?’ Conrad Latham said formally as he entered the ground-floor office suite attached to the back of the sumptuous villa.

Mind racing, Kate smiled at him hesitantly. Guy had marched her over here without a word, ushered her into a cool, spacious office efficiently equipped with computer consoles and Danish-style furniture—very modern and chic—and left her. Lorraine wasn’t around and Kate had stood nervously by the desk at the patio doors overlooking the gardens, just waiting.

So Guy had offered travel sickness as an excuse for her absence at the dinner table last night and her lateness this morning. A lie, which made her wonder at the brothers’ relationship. Though they were equal partners it seemed Conrad had the whip hand. Nevertheless Kate was reluctantly grateful to Guy for covering for her, though a little uneasy at the method.

‘Yes, I’m feeling much better after a good night’s rest, thank you, and—’ She was just about to offer further thanks for the lovely accommodation he had put at her disposal when Guy and Lorraine stepped into the room, Guy as steely as usual and Lorraine looking surprisingly pale and disgruntled.

The next few minutes of proposals for the work they were undertaking unfortunately flew over the top of Kate’s head as she watched Conrad stride around the room giving out orders. He really was a very impressive man, tall and elegantly dressed in a lightweight grey suit that seemed to highlight the smattering of silver at his temples.

Whereas Guy was deeply tanned, Conrad was quite pale in comparison. Obviously the workaholic of the two. Kate could imagine Guy topping up that tan by the poolside at every opportunity while his brother wheeled and dealed in this air-conditioned office suite. It endeared him to her even more. She admired a successful man.

‘Kate will deal with the German contracts and the redevelopment marketing as she is so efficiently fluent—’

Kate concentrated and glowed inside to think that Conrad thought so much of her, but when the rose mist of adoration cleared from her eyes she realised that it was Guy mouthing the words, not Conrad.

‘Lorraine, you are to work closely with Conrad as his personal assistant as you are no good to me on these foreign contracts. Kate is a linguist and of far more use to me-’

Kate felt her stomach somersault in dismay. Lorraine gave her a look as frosty as the Eiger and Conrad simply nodded his acceptance.

‘We are restructuring the whole European marketing concept,’ Guy went on, addressing himself to Kate and Lorraine. ‘And I’m afraid the next few weeks are going to be hectic. I apologise for that in advance and my brother and I hope you will bear with us and—’

‘Come now, Guy.’ Conrad interrupted, giving Kate a look that set her heart pounding. ‘Don’t expect too much from these beautiful ladies. I’m sure they will benefit from some leisure time while they are with us.’

There was a sudden silence as the brothers caught each other’s eye, Guy glowering as if the suggestion should never have been made and Conrad steelyeyed as if exerting some mental power over his younger brother. Guy was the first to concede with a slight shrug.

‘Feel free to use the pool and the grounds— strictly out of office hours, of course. This isn’t Club Med,’ Guy said rather stiffly.

Lorraine let out a small laugh, which didn’t surprise Kate one bit. Lorraine would fall helpless at any little joke Guy might attempt. But Kate remained unaffected, seeing the remark for what it was meant to be—a warning, not a joke. It made her wonder what all that had been about this morning—Guy telling her she wasn’t suitably dressed, making out that Conrad was the tyrant and expecting high standards. At this moment in time the roles appeared to be reversed, Guy showing far more power and stridency than she had expected in front of his elder brother.

‘Kate, you’re looking rather pale. Perhaps a tour of the grounds would help you settle,’ Conrad suggested kindly.

In utter astonishment Kate widened her deep brown eyes, truly surprised by the suggestion and the implication that he might accompany her. And the way he was looking at her, so invitingly, with smoky grey eyes, made Kate decide that she wasn’t mistaken. He did mean to accompany her. Her heart fluttered excitedly because on their dinner date his behaviour had been impeccable but now, well, he was sort of flirty, and in front of the others too.

‘Kate is perfectly well, Conrad, and there will be plenty of other opportunities to explore the gardens of Babylon, but for the moment work is more important,’ Guy stated cuttingly.

Kate’s heart began to sink. There was an atmosphere here that made her feel extremely uncomfortable. Power play, and it seemed she was in the line of crossfire between the two brothers. She wished she weren’t here.

Before she knew what was happening, Conrad had moved to Lorraine, taken her arm and guided her out of the office without a word from either of them. Kate was left alone with Guy and wishing she weren’t because this appeared to be his personal office. She cleared her throat.

‘Where do you want me to sit?’ she asked in a small voice.

Guy said nothing, indicating a chair at the computer console and walked across the room to the desk by the window, glancing at his watch with a frown and picked up the phone. For a good ten minutes he carried on a conversation in Spanish to a colleague in Madrid, making an arrangement for a meeting in Barcelona and enquiring after the recipient’s family, all of which Kate understood, being fluent in Spanish as well. She stared at the dead screen of the computer, waiting for Guy to finish and give her some direction, feeling totally lost and unwanted.

‘I apologise for that,’ he suddenly said from behind her, so close that she flinched with nerves. ‘I had to catch him before he left. Now let’s get down to making you feel at home. Conrad was right—you are looking rather pale. I hope I haven’t made a mistake by selecting you for this assignment.’

Kate turned her head to look at him, her heart reeling with disappointment, her lips slightly parted with surprise. He had chosen her? She didn’t understand. She had presumed Conrad…She licked her very dry lips.

‘I won’t disappoint you,’ she mumbled humbly, hating it all, hating him. One small glow inside helped, though, as she thought of the beautiful accommodation Conrad had secured for her. And another glow formed at the consideration he had shown with that suggestion of a tour of the ‘gardens of Babylon’—as Guy had so scathingly named the grounds. Conrad was a true gentleman, his brother a heathen. She wished with all her heart that she were in Lorraine’s shoes at this moment.

‘I doubt you could,’ he told her softly, holding her limpid brown eyes with his own. ‘But my brother might find you a bitter disappointment,’ he added enigmatically.

His hand was on the back of her chair and Kate felt a very small movement, as if he was rubbing his thumb over the back of her white silk shirt. The touch burned and her insides steeled themselves against the intimacy of the touch, but she held it all inside her, glaring at him with a defiance she felt very strongly.

‘And what is that supposed to mean?’ she asked directly.

‘It means that my brother has high expectations.’

‘So? I would hope he has,’ Kate returned. ‘We aren’t playing cowboy outfits with your business, are we?’

He afforded her a small smile and leaned even closer to her—so close that she was assailed by that delicious cologne again.

‘Indeed not, but my brother plays other sorts of games and sometimes he doesn’t stick to the rules. He invariably wins.’

Kate couldn’t help the stiffening of her whole body at that innuendo. A warning? That was good coming from him, the Lothario to end all Lotharios. Her contempt for him rose to an alltime high.

‘I’m not going to pretend I don’t know what you are getting at,’ she seethed through tight white lips. ‘But I didn’t just fall off the olive tree.’

He raised a teasing brow at her. ‘Olives are crushed for their virgin oil, dear Kate. Remember that if my brother comes on to you.’

In a fury of shocked embarrassment Kate pushed at the console to free her chair and free herself. She leapt shakily to her feet. Guy had stepped back out of the way of her chair and she swung to face him, eyes blazing.

‘How dare you? How dare you speak to me like that?’ she cried furiously.

He looked totally unrepentant, even dared to offer her a wicked smile which she was sorely tempted to wipe from his face with the back of her hand.

‘Now, I wonder what got your back up? The implication you might be a virgin or that my brother might be toying with the idea of coming on to you?’

Kate opened and shut her mouth in exasperation. Had she heard right? Had this awful, arrogant beast actually uttered those words? I’m going mad, she thought; the heat’s getting to me.

‘Neither suggestion is worth wasting words on, Mr Guy Latham, but I’m going to do it nevertheless. Both are an insult, to me and your brother. My God, if I was trapped with the pair of you on a desert island surrounded by shark-infested waters I know who I’d turn to.’

‘You’d go for a swim, sweetheart,’ he mocked. ‘Because I’m not to be trusted by implication, my brother’s not to be trusted because of fact. Remember that when the heat of the Mediterranean keeps you awake at night.’

‘I’m not listening to this—’

He caught her arm as she was about to swing away. He pulled her close to him, knocking the last defiant breath from her lungs. His fingers bit into the soft flesh of her upper arm. He repelled her— so much so that she felt faintness dragging at her.

‘Don’t forget, Kate, I’m on your side.’

‘Who’s taking sides?’ she blurted out, struggling in his grip.

‘You will when the time comes. Take care, sweet-heart,’ he warned. ‘I don’t think you fully realise what you have let yourself in for. Don’t play games with my brother and don’t deny you have something going for him in your heart—’

‘I have not!’ Kate exploded in defence of her heart and her morality. This was ridiculous; Guy Latham was as bad as his gossipy staff back in London. OK, so she sometimes toyed with thoughts of Conrad, little fantasies to prove to herself that she was human and needed what all women needed—a bit of warmth in her life. But they were only fantasies. Not once had she ever opened them up to be ridiculed.

‘I’ve known for a long time,’ he breathed hard against her. ‘I’ve watched you in the office when my brother’s walked in on his monthly calls. I knew for sure when I walked into this room earlier. You couldn’t take your eyes off him and I doubt you registered anything that was said. You talk with your eyes, sweetheart, and my brother is a very capable reader. He’s off limits to a little gold-digger like you so if I were you I’d cool it.’

He let her go then—so suddenly that her arms fell heavily to her sides. She glared at him, her heart stinging, digesting the warning, fighting him inwardly, deeply shocked that he had put that dreadful interpretation on the interest she had shown in Conrad. He had a nerve. Who the devil did he think she was? Some mindless little tramp who only saw the man’s wealth and status? Conrad Latham didn’t play games; he was too mature for that. He was a real man and Guy Latham had no right to judge him by his own standards.

‘If I wasn’t employed by the pair of you I’d walk out of here and catch the next flight home,’ she seethed, her eyes bright and warring with his.

‘If I didn’t need you so badly I’d let you go,’ he grated in return. ‘And don’t get any smart ideas that the feeling is personal. Your bright little brain is needed here and precious little else. Remember that.’

‘I don’t need any such reminders,’ she flamed. She knew she was risking her career by being so outspoken but she wasn’t going to allow him to get away with his insults. ‘I didn’t think for a minute that I was asked down here for decorative purposes and I resent your innuendoes and your warnings and-’

He held his hands up in mock defence and Kate stopped and bit her lower lip. She’d gone too far, way over the top, but he had forced it out of her. She wasn’t one of the girls back in London, pandering to his smooth talk, swooning when he walked through the offices. She wanted a career in his company and she was going the wrong way about it by fighting Guy Latham this way. But what price pride?

‘Shall we stop this right now before it gets out of hand?’ he suggested calmly.

Her eyes fought his for one last time and then her shoulders slumped. She didn’t like him but she had to get on with him if they were to work together.

‘Yes, yes, we’d better,’ she agreed softly.

‘Good. Let’s put personalities aside and get down to some work.’

He moved away from her and went to his desk and she watched him cautiously. He was still angry, his shoulders stiff and unrelenting. It was odd, but in spite of how she felt about him she had to admit that he was nearly as attractive as his brother. He was thicker set and more sporty and in a few years he’d have the elegance and sophistication of Conrad—if he worked at it.

He turned suddenly and caught her watching him and Kate felt her temperature rise. Heaven forbid that he might guess what she was thinking. She lowered her eyes and sank down into her chair and switched her brain to business mode. That was what she was here for and as far as work was concerned she was determined not to give him reason for more displeasure.

They broke for coffee at eleven, a maid bringing a tray of coffee and small pastries into the office and depositing it on Kate’s desk as if she was supposed to serve the lord and master. Kate did, silently, moving across to his desk and putting a cup of coffee down next to him. Lorraine came into the office to break the stillness with her chirpy chatter and Kate left them to go to the toilet.

The modern suite of offices tucked away at the back of the villa intrigued Kate. It was cool and comfortable and the perfect environment to work in away from the heat of the day. She longed for lunchtime, though, so that she could return to that lovely courtyard with its evocative scents and its Andalusian ambience. Already she was seeing it as a sanctuary. A place to gather her thoughts.

Though she had worked hard this morning and tried to block out Guy’s awful warnings, they had broken through at intervals. The fact that Guy had noticed the way she had looked at his brother had deeply shocked her. She hadn’t realised her feelings had shown. In fact she hadn’t realised her feelings were that strong to have shown. She respected Conrad enormously and allowed herself a few fluttering fantasies, but was she really looking for love?

‘How are you settling?’

Kate swung round in the airy, marble-floored corridor that separated the offices and faced Conrad, her heart fluttering again at his kindly query.

‘Just fine.’ She smiled shyly. ‘You’re very well equipped here.’

A dark brow rose with humour at her choice of words and Kate saw the double entendre she had unwittingly uttered. She felt the colour rise to her cheeks and it deepened as his smoky grey eyes locked with hers.

‘Of course,’ he uttered softly. ‘I aim to please whenever possible.’ The words hung in the air till he added, ‘Do feel free to speak up if I can offer you more.’

Kate’s insides lurched and Guy’s warnings thrummed in her head. But no, she was taking this all the wrong way. Conrad was a gentleman and it was because of Guy’s ridiculous suggestions that she was seeing this exchange of words as something it wasn’t. Conrad wasn’t a flirt. Conrad was simply being the perfect boss and the perfect host as usual.

Kate smiled. ‘Everything is lovely. I feel very privileged to be here, Mr Latham—’

‘Conrad, please. The environment is very informal here,’ he told her with a beguiling smile, teeth as sparklingly perfect as his brother’s.

It was Kate’s turn to raise a brow. That wasn’t what Guy had implied earlier and when she had called him Mr Latham on their dinner date he hadn’t insisted on Conrad.

‘Conrad, then,’ she murmured.

‘That’s better. Now don’t forget, any problems come to me. I want your stay here to be as pleasurable as possible. I’m afraid Guy takes life far too seriously at times. Do you swim, Kate?’

The question took her aback for a second. ‘Yes, yes, I do.’

‘Splendid. You must join us by the pool this afternoon, during siesta.’

‘Thank you; I’d like that.’ The thought was already revitalising her stretched nerves. She smiled again and was about to open her mouth to thank him for the guest house when a distant phone ringing diverted Conrad’s attention.

‘Please excuse me.’ He smiled and turned away and Kate nodded.

Her heart was pounding happily and she was stepping on clouds as she went back to her own office. As soon as she opened the door she landed back to earth with a bump. Lorraine had her arms wrapped around Guy and jumped guiltily as Kate entered the room. Guy threw her a dark look which Kate found herself returning with equal black poison. She wouldn’t have cared if they had been writhing in passion on the leather couch against the wall, but what stung her was all those warnings he had meted out to her about this being work and not pleasure.

‘I beg your pardon,’ she uttered, not without sarcasm.

‘Knock in future before you come in, Kate,’ Lorraine scythed at her, and straightening her laceedged top over her narrow pencil skirt, she strode towards the door Kate had left ajar. ‘I’ll be ready at two, Guy.’ The door slammed after her.

Kate sat at her console, punched the keyboard viciously and stared obliquely at the screen.

‘Yes, knock before coming in, Kate.’ Guy repeated into the uncomfortable stillness that had enveloped the room after Lorraine’s brittle exit.

Kate held her lips tightly clamped. She wasn’t going to say one word and she didn’t.

They broke for lunch and siesta at one o’clock, Guy reminding her to be back on duty at four-thirty before leaving the room. Kate nearly stuck her tongue out at the back of the door but resisted the temptation for fear of Guy poking his face round the door and catching her. He already thought her…

What exactly did he think of her? she wondered as she left the office suite, the hot Mediterranean air hitting her, in sharp contrast to the cool of the air-conditioned office. He thought she had a good brain for one thing; not much else, though. Oh, she’d forgotten, a gold-digger. Huh! She should care.

The perfumed courtyard was a welcome refuge. After the morning’s idiosyncrasies she couldn’t face a swim, even with the thought of joining the man she so admired. She understood why everyone broke off for a siesta in the afternoon; fatigue was dragging at her very bones.

‘Charo?’ she called out as she stepped into the coolness of the stone-floored guest house.

Silence. Kate was relieved. She didn’t want to talk or even breathe in this heat. Her head was enough to cope with. She changed into a cool sarong over her lacy underwear, made herself a coffee and cut a chunk of crispy bread and a slice of goat’s cheese, sat in the shade of the vines to eat it, and then shifted to the tiny garden that led off an archway from the courtyard.

‘Heaven,’ she breathed as she collapsed into a cushioned cane lounger under a knobbly old olive tree. Her eyes were heavy as she gazed up at the clumps of fat green olives amidst the spiky silvery leaves. Virgin oil, she mused, and it was her last thought.

‘You idiot!’

Kate woke with a start, blinked fearfully and tried to sit up. She was alone and yet she could have sworn someone had shouted her awake.

‘Oh, no!’ she breathed in agony, and gazed down at her left leg. Her sarong was gaping open, right up to her thigh, and the whole of one long, shapely leg was exposed to the punishing rays of the sun. The top of her leg was worse than the rest, the more tender skin red with inflammation.

‘Stay still,’ Guy Latham growled as he came through the archway to the secret garden, his hands full of stiff, spiky green…cactus!

Kate squealed in alarm as Guy came towards her with them.

‘What the hell—?’

‘Yes, well you might cry hell, sweetheart,’ he growled again as he dropped the spikes at her feet and in one deft movement hauled her, in the chair, further under the shade of the olive tree. ‘Don’t you know never to sunbathe at this time of day in Andalusia?’

‘I wasn’t sunbathing,’ Kate defended herself angrily, and then winced painfully as she tried to move her stiffened leg. It felt as if her skin had shrunk and was too small for her bones. ‘I…I must have fallen asleep. The sun moved,’ she bleated weakly.

‘Well, it does that,’ he grated sarcastically, and proceeded to split open the succulent, spiny leaves he had brought with him.

‘What on earth are you doing with those?’ she cried, shrinking away from him.

He sat on the edge of the lounger and grasped her ankle firmly with one hand and with the other scooped out a pale jelly-like substance from the insides of the spines.

‘No!’ Kate cried, and then instantly let out a small cry of relief as he slapped the cooling jelly over the worst of her raw thigh. ‘Oh, I don’t believe it!’ she gasped, and slumped back against the lounger and sighed deeply. It was bliss, sheer heaven as he gently patted the jelly over her fiery skin to cool it.

She opened her eyes when the crisis was over and stared at his fingers as they smoothed over her thigh. Then she was in crisis again as one delicious sensation moved over for another. His touch was so sensuous—astonishing, coming from him. Her whole body tensed and she wanted him to stop but he wasn’t about to. More cooling jelly was applied till she thought she couldn’t stand the wondrous feeling a second longer. She tried to pull her leg back out of his reach but he held onto her ankle firmly.

‘Keep still,’ he ordered quietly.

Kate said a silent prayer of thanks that it was only her thigh that was affected. Supposing it was her chest that had been so painfully exposed to the sun’s rays? A hot flush engulfed her and she let out a small cry at the thought. What on earth was happening to her?

‘Don’t,’ she pleaded weakly. ‘That’s enough.’

‘Let me be the judge of that,’ he uttered under his breath.

There was a sliver of stinging skin on her inner thigh that had caught the sun as well, and he turned her ankle to gain access to it.

Kate pulled away, shrank back from him, her eyes wide with terror, her heart nearly seizing. Guy held on more firmly. He looked up to catch the panic in her eyes. He frowned.

‘I wonder if you would be quite so reticent with my brother if it was he tending your sunburn?’

Kate kicked out at that nasty suggestion, jerked her legs so sharply that the pain shot through the whole of her body.

‘Stop being so touchy and keep still. I’m doing this for your benefit, not mine,’ he growled.

‘Huh,’ she huffed angrily. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you were getting anything out of it for yourself, though you’re certainly taking your time about it! Give it to me!’ She snatched at the thick succulent and instantly cried out again as one of the sharp spines dug into her thumb. ‘Ouch!’

Guy tutted impatiently and grabbed at her hand. To Kate’s complete horror he stuck her thumb in his mouth and sucked at it. Eyes so wide that they hurt, Kate watched as he drew sensuously on her thumb, tenderly running his tongue over the spot the spine had jabbed. His eyes, hooded and oh, so dark, held hers as he did it.

Kate gasped with the shock of what he was doing and the way it was affecting her. Her insides twisted alarmingly. She wrenched her thumb, her thigh, her whole being out of his reach. She was on her feet in a trice, pain shooting down her leg at the sudden movement and rocking her with the horror of it all.

‘What are you, for heaven’s sake—some blood-starved vampire?’ she screeched.

She didn’t wait for an answer but hobbled painfully out of the garden, through the courtyard and into the house. She stood trembling at the kitchen sink, running the cold-water tap and trying in vain to catch her ragged breath. She felt sick, horribly so. She fought it, though, because she didn’t want to embarrass herself even more by fainting or actually being sick in front of him. Oh, misery. Why had she fallen asleep so carelessly?

She heard movement behind her, bottles in the fridge clinking.

‘Don’t drink the tap water; here—take this.’

She swung angrily to face him, afraid she was going to burst into tears. Her thigh ached miserably, her thumb stung, her head was about to split and she was going to be sick. She grasped at the tumbler of bottled water he held out for her and drank thirstily. It was just what she needed to bring her equilibrium back.

She sank the empty glass into the sink. ‘Anything else?’ she questioned fiercely. ‘It seems when you are around I can do nothing right!’

He looked at her and shrugged. ‘Your personal life does have a knack of going awry when I’m not around.’

‘You think?’ she retorted.

‘I know,’ he responded firmly. ‘You need wet-nursing.’

‘I need nothing of the sort. So I’ve made a few mistakes—missed dinner, overslept, dressed inappropriately, looked at your brother the wrong way, fallen asleep in the sun—crumbs, none of them certifiable!’

‘So why are you making so much fuss about them?’

‘I’m not! You are the one…the one…’

‘The one what?’

All the breath went from her then and she lifted her trembling fingers to knead her hot brow. What was happening here? He threw her all the time. Made her feel gauche and so terribly out of it. This assignment was going all wrong and he was at the root of it all.

‘I’m going up to shower,’ she uttered helplessly, and went to turn away.

He caught her arm and spun her back to face him.

‘No, you’re not, sweetheart. You haven’t time. Another faux pas. It’s nearly four-thirty and you only have time to get out of that scrap of cotton and into something decent before you are back on the job. Standards and all that,’ he mocked.

Wide-eyed, Kate glared at him. She couldn’t win with him whatever she did. Her eyes dropped contemptuously to his fingers gripping her wrist and then she gasped in horror.

‘I’m bleeding!’ There was blood on her arm where he was holding it.

He looked down and as he let her go he said impatiently, ‘You’re not but I am.’

He held his hand up and Kate was filled with remorse when she saw where the flow of blood was coming from. The tips of his fingers were cut where he had ripped open the spiny cactus leaves. Her sun-scorched thigh didn’t sting any more because of his quick, healing treatment. He hadn’t given a thought to himself, just torn those leaves apart to relieve her pain.

Without further thought she took his hand and thrust it under the still dribbling tap.

‘Who needs wet-nursing now?’ she breathed.

‘This is turning into a real kitchen-sink drama.’ he said as she held his fingers under the cooling water.

For the very first time in nine months Kate smiled at him. He was quite amusing when he dropped his arrogance.

‘What was that stuff anyway?’ she asked as she dabbed at his fingers with a piece of clean kitchen roll.

‘Aloe. Nature’s way of compensating. A natural balm for sunburn growing where it is needed. Isn’t life wonderful?’

He held her eyes with his. They were dark and smouldering and provoked another first for Kate: she could almost see what all the females in London saw in him. He had a certain jene sais quoi. But she wasn’t prone to falling for indefinable somethings.

She let go of his hand and smiled at him sweetly. ‘Yes, bloody amazing,’ she retorted, and left him to make the best of his injuries by himself.




CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_55d004fd-17cc-5dee-8167-be39979f9386)


DINING at the villa that evening was going exactly the way Kate had thought it would—disappointingly. Not that she had been brimming with expectations, because, thanks to Guy Latham, the whole assignment wasn’t proving to be a privilege as she had anticipated but more a slow death by underprivilege. She felt thoroughly put down by Lorraine’s appearance, in flowing, silver-threaded chiffon with sparkly bits around the plunging neckline. In comparison Kate felt dowdy in her mink-coloured silk dress bought in last year’s sales.

She sat stiffly across from Lorraine at the long, polished Spanish oak table on the front terrace of the villa. The Hollywood-style pool glittered beyond the white stone balustrade, blue and inviting, promising to balm this awful throbbing thigh of hers if she dared to take a plunge in it, which she so longed to do. It would certainly liven up the evening if she did strip off and take a sprint for it!

Kate wondered where Lorraine and Guy had gone during the afternoon, because for sure Lorraine hadn’t been exposed to the sun. She was as pale as ever, perhaps a little more so than usual. On returning to the office after siesta Kate had found herself ensconced with Guy in their office and she hadn’t seen any sign of Lorraine, or Conrad, come to that, till now.

Conrad looked wonderful in a white evening jacket and narrow black trousers. Kate reluctantly conceded that Guy didn’t look bad in similar attire either. The brothers sat at either end of the long table and intimate conversation, because of the distance, was difficult.

Kate’s heart flipped as Conrad’s voice boomed over the buzz of cicadas in the heavy, hot night air.

‘Kate, I’m disappointed you didn’t join me for that swim as you promised. I was looking forward to it.’

Lorraine glowered at her as she forked prawns between her pink lips. Kate felt Guy glowering at her but she couldn’t look at him; to do that and converse with Conrad she would have had to turn her head this way and that as if she were at a tennis match.

‘Kate is still acclimatising to the change of temperature, Conrad,’ Guy answered for her. ‘If you spent more time in miserable, wet London you might be able to understand why.’

Conrad laughed and Kate squirmed, hoping she might be wrong in thinking that there was a barb under Guy’s remark. It obviously hadn’t registered with Conrad.

‘I’m sure Kate is quite able to answer for herself, Guy,’ Conrad offered drily, the laughter short-lived.

Oh, yes, it had registered!

Because of the aloe, and only because of the aloe, Kate spoke up. ‘Guy is right,’ she directed at Conrad. ‘I think my biorhythms are out of sync. I fell asleep this afternoon and didn’t wake up till…till it was time for work again.’ Her thigh stung as a reminder of exactly how she had woken up. She wasn’t about to mention it, though. Lorraine would love it—sunburn on her first day here.

‘You’re driving her too hard, Guy. Ease up a bit.’

‘If I eased up this business would grind to a halt.’ Guy said, and Kate wondered if anyone but her had heard.

‘And you, dear Lorraine. What kept you out of the pool today? How you girls have disappointed me.’

So, Conrad had invited Lorraine too. Kate felt a small frisson of disappointment.

‘Guy was kind enough to offer to drive me down to Puerto Banus, Conrad. My cousin is thinking of investing in a time-share apartment overlooking the marina and I wanted to check it out for him.’

‘Time-share never was a good business investment,’ Guy commented. ‘The market is saturated with unsold properties.’




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