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  ‘As a matter of fact, it is,’ Erica admitted with a self-consciously proud smile.

  ‘That’s an excellent way to advertise your boutique,’ Julie grinned.

  ’do you own a boutique, Miss Wakefield?’ There was a knowing gleam in Rafael’s eyes as he watched the startled turn of Erica’s head.

  ‘It’s a joint venture between my father and myself.’ In spite of her efforts to reply calmly, her voice sounded cool.

  Vance Wakefield smiled at her indulgently. ‘I have to admit my daughter has a sound business head. She picked out the location on the riverwalk and except for a little advice from me, she has operated it all by herself.’

  The raven-black head tilted patronisingly towards her. ‘Your shop on the riverwalk, is it called Erica’s?’

  ‘Yes, yes, it is,’ she answered defensively. ‘Not very original, I admit.’

  ‘What a coincidence!’ One corner of his mouth moved in a mocking smile. ‘I stopped there today, close to noon, to buy a gift for my sister. I’m quite sure I would have remembered if I had seen you there, Miss Wakefield.’

  ‘I believe I was out to lunch at that time,’ she said, her expression freezing as the irony of the situation struck her. The very hour she had been discussing her elopement with him to Jules Blackwell, Rafael had been in the boutique. ‘I hope Donna was able to find a gift suitable for your sister.’

  ‘She did.’ The instant the reply had been made, Rafael turned to her father, a suggestion of boredom in his features both with Erica and the subject of the conversation.

  ‘What do you think of San Antonio, Don Rafael?’ her father inquired. ‘Have you been here before?’

  ‘Not for some time,’ he replied, answering the last question first. ‘San Antonio is like an ageing dowager, really proud of her rich heritage and culture, and futuristic in her outlook. Yet she has never lost the grace and old-world charm she was born to possess. She truly deserves to be one of the four unique cities in the United States.’

  Erica stared at him in silence, stunned by the way he had put her feelings towards the city into words. She had forgotten how very charming Rafael could be. How she hated him at that moment! It took all her willpower to prevent her from telling the entire gathering what a despicable person he was. He had married her for her money and he was here to collect some of it.

  Her rage seethed like a cancer inside her as she watched the way his presence dominated the room. The centre of interest was always where Rafael was. Erica stood on the fringes of satellite groups, not trusting herself to speak for fear she would be pronouncing her own death sentence as well as Rafael’s. And the subjects of the other guests seemed never to stray far away from Rafael.

  When the small group she was standing with began to gravitate to him, Erica pretended an interest in a statue of Aztec origin. Forest was on the far side of the room leading some discussion with Matt Clifton and Ed Mateo. Both were nodding agreement to what he was saying. She tried to be glad that Forest was mingling so well with her peers, but she wanted to be gone from this house and Rafael, to feel the comfort of Forest’s arms around her. From past experience, she knew the party would drag on for another hour or more.

  ‘The statue is an excellent example of early Aztec art.’ Erica’s back stiffened as her head jerked sideways to see Rafael standing negligently by her side. His black gaze ridiculed the impotency of the anger in her expression. ‘I’m afraid this will have to do,’ he murmured mysteriously.

  A confused look entered her eyes as she regarded him haughtily. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘I believe you wished to speak to me privately. This is as private as we can get, unless you wish to cause comment by leaving the room in my company,’ he mocked.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Erica hissed, staring at the statue and wishing she could throw it at him.

  ’didn’t our hosts explain? I am here with an exhibit from Mexico,’ he answered in a bemused voice.

  ’don’t play games!’ she snapped, whirling about to face him. ‘You know very well what I’m talking about!’

  Her anger seemed to amuse him more. ’do you truly wish to discuss it here, mia esposa?’ Erica caught her breath sharply as his eyes seemed to physically touch the upper portion of her body, travelling with unnerving slowness. ‘You are my wife, Erica de la Torres, by word and by deed.’

  Colouring furiously at his unnecessary reminder, she glared her resentment. ‘No, we won’t discuss it here,’ she admitted grudgingly.

  His superior nod of acknowledgement indicated that he had known very well that it could be no other way. ‘I am staying at Palacio del Rio,’ and he gave her his room number. ‘May I expect you there at noon tomorrow?’

  ‘Yes,’ she snapped.

  ‘I shall look forward to the pleasure of your company.’ A curling taunt in the sensual line of his mouth.

  The only satisfaction Erica could acknowledge was the fact that Jules Blackwell and not she would meet Rafael tomorrow. At least, she would be spared another disturbing encounter with him.

  As Erica predicted earlier, all the guests lingered for better than an hour. Rafael was standing with Luisa and John Mendelsen as the others bade them goodbye. Forest was standing behind her, his arm loosely circling her waist so she rested lightly against him. There was a sense of protection in his casual embrace as they waited for her father to finish speaking to his host.

  ‘I didn’t truly expect to enjoy myself tonight,’ Forest murmured near her ear. ‘Your father’s friends aren’t nearly as stuffy as I expected them to be.’

  Erica bent her head back and to the side to gaze into his ruggedly handsome face. ‘I would have much rather been somewhere else,’ she said decisively.

  ’damn, but you’re beautiful!’ Fire leaped into his brown eyes as his lips possessively touched hers, unmindful of watching eyes.

  Erica held his ardent gaze a second longer, his tender caress touching her deeply, before she turned to see if her father was ready to leave. Her softly luminous eyes were pinned by the ominous blackness of Rafael’s, his nostrils flaring in arrogant disapproval. Erica’s heart catapulted in fear at the ruthless lines etched in the handsome, bronze mask. Then he turned away and she was free, but she wondered how long it would be before she was truly free.

  Later, in her own home, Vance Wakefield discreetly made himself scarce so Erica and Forest could say their goodnights in private. Erica went eagerly into his arms, responding with forced ardour to his kisses. Yet she found she couldn’t block out the events that had taken place.

  Worse, she discovered herself trying to compare her reaction to Forest with the way she had felt with Rafael. Even when she had disliked Rafael in Acapulco, she had admitted that she was sexually attracted to him. But a comparison was foolish. Sensations aroused by the first time that a man awakened a woman to her inner physical desires would never be as stunning or overwhelming again.

  Six

  * * *

  Erica pressed a hand to her churning stomach, then pulled open the door to the hotel’s riverwalk entrance. She had telephoned Jules the instant she had arrived at the boutique that morning. The receptionist had informed her that he was out of the city and not expected back until Tuesday or Wednesday of the following week.

  A half a dozen times during the morning, Erica had walked to the telephone to cancel her appointment with Rafael. As reluctant as she was to see him again, she was also aware that she desperately needed to know what his demands were so that she would have time to raise the money. The sooner she found out how difficult a task it was going to be, the sooner she could find a way of accomplishing it. Besides, she wasn’t certain she could put Rafael off until Jules came back. It was conceivable that he might try to contact her at the boutique or at home.

  There was no sign of Rafael in the restaurant on the river level and none in the lobby’s cocktail lounge. Her watch showed exactly twelve noon. With her heart beating unevenly, Erica walked to the house phone and di
alled his suite. Her hand nervously clutched the white receiver.

  ‘Yes?’ His rich voice flowed smoothly in her ear.

  ‘Th-this is Erica,’ she faltered momentarily. ‘Shall I meet you in the lounge?’

  A mirthless chuckle sounded on the other end of the receiver. ‘You indicated that you wanted a private discussion, then you pick a public gathering place to have it. Do you not wish to speak to me where no one can overhear?’

  ‘Yes — ’

  ‘Then come to my suite,’ Rafael commanded, and the line was disconnected.

  Erica held the phone to her ear for a long moment, her throat choked by the words of refusal she hadn’t had the opportunity to say. Mutely she rebelled against the conspiracy that continued to give Rafael control.

  Replacing the receiver, she walked self-consciously towards the lifts, glancing furtively about her in case someone she knew saw her. It was one thing to pretend that she had accidentally bumped into Rafael in the crowded lobby and it was another to be seen coming out or going into his room.

  Luck was, for once, on her side as the doors yawned to admit her to an empty lift. There was no one about on Rafael’s floor either and Erica walked swiftly to his room, praying that he wouldn’t make her wait too long in the hallway before opening the door.

  When it opened, she quickly darted in, not drawing a secure breath until she heard the door close behind her. Then she swung to face Rafael. The upheaval going on within caused her considerable consternation as she tried not to notice how effectively the azure blue suit complemented his dark colouring and increased his attraction. His hand made a politely mocking gesture towards the burnt orange cushions of a small settee. Erica walked stiltedly towards it, trying to calm her chaotic thoughts and emotions.

  ‘Sherry?’ Rafael offered a stemmed glass of the amber liquid to her.

  She accepted it, more to have something in her hands to occupy their nervous trembling. The last thing she wanted was drink to cloud her thinking. This was the moment that she needed all her faculties alert.

  Hitching his trousers, he sat down in a bulky-styled Mediterranean chair next to the settee. His manner reminded Erica of a lord dutifully about to listen to the problems of one of his lowly subjects. Indignantly her lips tightened.

  ‘You wished to discuss our marriage,’ Rafael prompted with infuriating calm.

  ‘I wish to discuss our divorce,’ she corrected him curtly.

  ‘Why have you waited a year and a half to make your wishes known that you want our marriage to end?’ His voice sounded disinterested, but his unreadable dark eyes had grown blacker.

  Erica glanced down to her glass. ‘I didn’t know how to reach you or where you lived.’

  ‘And you made no effort to find out,’ he stated.

  ‘No.’ She refused to be intimidated as she lashed back sarcastically, ‘I was simply glad to get away from a fortune-hunter like you!’

  ‘Ah,’ a mockingly complacent smile widened his mouth, ‘but you learned last night that my profession was not what you imagined it to be.’

  ‘If you are who you say you are,’ she answered coldly, then shrugged. ‘Either way, it’s immaterial. I want a divorce.’

  ‘Last night I heard talk that you and this Forest Granger are in love.’ The soft jeer sliced out at Erica. ‘Perhaps he is the reason for your sudden decision.’

  Her chin raised to a defiant angle. ‘We are in love with each other. Now, will you give me a divorce?’

  Rafael lifted his sherry glass to the light. ‘I am Rafael Alejandro de la Torres.’ A black brow arched derisively towards her. ‘I realise the name means nothing to you, but in my country, it is synonymous with pride, honour, and influence. I am the eldest male of my immediate family, thus the one in command. The traditions and religious beliefs of my family will not permit a divorce — on any grounds.’

  Ice ran through her blood, sending shivers of terror to every extremity. Erica stared at him blankly, refusing to believe that she had heard what he said. Somehow it was imperative for him to realise her position.

  ‘I don’t think you understand.’ Her voice was small and weak. ‘I don’t love you. I’m in love with Forest!’

  The shining dark head inclined arrogantly towards her. ‘Are you asking my permission to take him as a lover?’

  ‘No!’ Her protest was unmistakably shocked and indignant.

  ‘That is good, because I would not permit you to disgrace my family’s name.’

  ‘You would not permit me!’ Erica’s cry was one of outrage. ‘No one dictates to me! I do as I please!’

  ‘You are Erica de la Torres and you do as I please,’ Rafael informed her tersely.

  Her anger was nearly beyond control as she rose on shaking legs, her hands doubled into fists at her side. Rigidly she stared down at him, fighting to check her temper.

  ‘I am not one of your meekly submissive countrymen. I will not be at the beck and call of a domineering male, ever!’ she declared tightly.

  A cold anger spread over the lean features. He pushed himself out of the chair to tower in front of her. ‘Have I ever given you any reason to believe that I would mistreat you?’ he demanded.

  ‘No,’ Erica faltered slightly under his menacing gaze. ‘But it wouldn’t frighten me into cowering in front of you if you did. I will not allow you to try to dominate me!’

  His expression immediately altered into one of mocking amusement. ‘If a person is domineering, querida, he uses physical force to have his wishes carried out. Domination uses superior intelligence and knowledge. It would be wise to differentiate between the two in future.’

  ’don’t twist words,’ she protested, spinning away from him. Anger evaporated as hopelessness drained its source. In a last gambit to persuade him to change his unyielding stand, she turned over her last card. ‘I’ll pay you anything you ask.’

  ‘Money will not buy me a legitimate son of my blood,’ Rafael stated.

  ‘A son?’ gasped Erica, whirling around to search his aloof, arrogant face.

  ’does the thought of bearing my child offend you?’ His head was thrown proudly back as he intently watched her reaction.

  His child, a miniature version of the man before her. Erica’s mind reeled at the thought, yet not with distaste. She shook her head to chase away the image.

  ‘I find it offensive to be your wife,’ she said instead.

  His hand touched her shoulder. Impulses of disturbing awareness tingled down her neck. She pivoted sharply away from his hand.

  ‘You did not always find my touch repulsive,’ Rafael murmured, his eyes narrowing at her apprehensive expression.

  ‘I was young and inexperienced, but you changed all that,’ Erica retorted.

  ‘You are my wife. That hasn’t changed.’

  ‘Then change it! Divorce me!’ she demanded vigorously.

  ‘I have already explained that it is impossible,’ he stated.

  ‘If you don’t willingly grant me a divorce, I shall sue for it,’ she threatened. ‘I will not be married to a man I don’t love!’

  Rafael’s lean jaw was tightly clenched, a muscle in the side rebelling against the iron control. The fury in his darkened eyes reminded Erica too late that he was of Spanish descent. The blood of cruelty ran in his veins. The fine suit he wore was merely a cloak of civilisation to conceal the primitive savagery she had noted before.

  ‘That is something you should have considered before you married me,’ he snapped harshly.

  ‘I did consider it.’ The fear that nearly paralysed the workings of her lungs was masked by a show of bravado. ‘I never intended the marriage to last more than an hour. The only reason I married you was to get back at my father for always putting his business ahead of me. I knew he would have our marriage annulled that same evening.’

  ‘But your plan backfired, no?’ Rafael smiled.

  Erica turned away from that complacently arrogant expression. ‘Yes, he had flown back to the States — on business,
’ she admitted bitterly.

  ‘Why did you not tell me of this that night?’ he asked with ominous quiet.

  ‘I was afraid of you then,’ she tossed over her shoulder. ‘I was no match for you. I thought if I could go back to the hotel I would be safe. Only you didn’t take me back to the hotel.’

  Rafael studied her thoughtfully. ‘Was it cowardice that dictated your submission to me?’

  Erica swallowed nervously. The memory of his fiery caresses brought a disturbing ache to the lower areas of her stomach. Tongues of shame licked her cheeks as she remembered the way she had welcomed his intimate touch.

  ‘Of course,’ she breathed. ‘That’s why I ran at the first opportunity.’ It took all of her pride to look into his face without faltering. ‘How can you possibly want to remain married to me when you know why I did it? When you know I love someone else?’

  ‘What I want and what I must accept are two very different things, Erica,’ Rafael stated grimly.

  ‘I won’t accept it!’ Her cry rang angrily through the room. ‘I’ll have my attorney start the divorce proceedings immediately.’

  ‘I shall fight you, Erica,’ he told her coldly. ‘The newspapers will sell many copies with the names of Wakefield and Torres emblazoned on the front page. And you do not want that kind of divorce. You want a quiet one so that your father will never find out what you have done. It would be interesting to discover what your boy-friend’s reaction would be when you are involved in the scandal I would create.’

  ‘You wouldn’t,’ Erica whispered. Her rounded eyes searched his ruthlessly set face for some indication of compassion.

  ‘I would.’

  Trembling fingers touched her pale cheeks as she took two shaky steps away from him. She believed that he would do everything he said.

  ‘I can’t just simply announce that I’m married to you,’ she murmured.