‘Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?’ Polly demanded curtly of Raul
‘You were exhausted, and Irena was happy to help out.’ As Raul ran his stunning dark eyes over her tousled appearance, his ebony brows drew together in a slight but highly effective frown. ‘You should get changed. We’ll be landing at Maiquetia in an hour.’
The stewardess still had one possessive hand resting on Raul’s shoulder. Polly was appalled to register that the source of her own ferocious tension was undeniably a hot nasty jealousy which fuelled instantly suspicious thoughts. What had they been doing all those hours while she was asleep and safely out of the way? Was that why Raul had been so keen to send her off to rest? Why did Irena look like a cat that had got the cream?
As Polly studied Raul with a highly combustible mix of suspicion, distrust and embittered shameful longing, he stood up and calmly settled their son into his neat little cot. ‘I need a shave.’
‘Did you get any sleep?’ Polly muttered tautly.
‘Enough. I don’t need much.’ Raul strode past her.
‘Your husband is a real dynamo, señora. He has worked for most of the flight,’ the young stewardess shared with a coy look of admiration, tossing her head with a husky little laugh. ‘But don’t worry, I ensured that he ate and took time out to relax.’
At that news, Polly paled and went back into the sleeping compartment, but Raul had already disappeared into the compact bathroom next door. She lifted the white lightweight dress she had laid out earlier and smoothed abstractedly at the remaining creases while she waited for Raul to emerge. Finally the door opened. She felt absolutely sick by then, suspicion and jealousy making mincemeat of all rational thought.
‘Do you sleep with Irena?’ That blunt question just erupted from Polly. It was inside her head, but she could not for the life of her work out how the question had got from her brain onto her tongue.
Raul studied her without any expression at all. ‘Tell me you didn’t ask me that.’
That eerie lack of reaction completely spooked Polly. She crimsoned, pinned her lips together and then opened them again, driven by an overwhelming need for reassurance. ‘After what you said the night before last about not behaving like a husband...not to mention the way she’s behaving around you...naturally I’m suspicious!’
‘If I answer that insanely stupid question, I will lose my temper with you,’ Raul warned, very soft and low, narrowed dark eyes flaming gold between lush black lashes.
‘I don’t trust you—’
‘I will not live with jealous scenes. In fact nothing would disgust me more or alienate me faster. I do not sleep with my employees. The only woman in my life at present is you,’ Raul stated with a feral flash of even white teeth which suggested that even making that admission went severely against the grain.
Polly relaxed ever so slightly. ‘I want to believe that, but—’
‘The truth is that you are jealous of Irena,’ Raul condemned with whiplash cool. ‘Could that be because she makes the effort to look like an attractive adult woman while you’re still dressing like an adolescent who doesn’t want to grow up?’
Utterly unprepared for that counter-attack, Polly felt her soft mouth fall wide.
Raul flicked the white sundress off the bed. ‘A threeyear-old could wear this! Embroidered flowers at the neckline, ruched, shapeless—’
‘It was bought in a children’s department. Ordinary shops don’t cater for women my height and size!’ Polly shot at him shakily. ‘And, since I don’t want to dress like a precocious teenybopper, I have to choose the plain outfits. ’
Raul shrugged. ‘OK...I’ll remedy that.’
‘I am not jealous of that woman...and you needn’t think you can change the subject—’
‘Oh, I’m not changing it, Polly...I’m just refusing to talk about it,’ Raul incised with sudden grimness, shooting her a coldly derisive look. ‘Use your brain. Irena is Venezuelan. Venezuelan women are naturally glamorous, confident and flirtatious—’
‘My goodness, I can hardly wait to meet the Venezuelan men! What a fun time I’m going to have in your country!’ Polly forecast furiously.
In a sudden movement that shook Polly inside out, Raul strode forward and closed a lean and powerful hand round her slender forearm, dwarfing her with his intimidating height and breadth. With his other hand, he pushed up her chin, subjecting her to a splintering look of burning outrage that made her stomach turn an abrupt somersault and her knees go weak and wobbly.
‘What is mine is mine,’ Raul stressed with barely suppressed savagery. ‘I’d break you into little pieces for the jaguar to feed on before I would let any other man near you!’
Plunged willy-nilly into an atmosphere suddenly raw with scorching lightning currents of threat, Polly simply gazed up at him like a stupefied rabbit.
With equal abruptness, Raul released her again, a betraying rise of blood delineating his proud cheekbones as he absorbed her bewilderment. ‘I’m not a jealous man,’ he asserted in a roughened undertone. ‘But I am very conscions of my honour, and of my son’s need for stability in his life.’
Polly nodded like a little wooden marionette, afraid to move too close to the hungry flickering flames of a bonfire.
Raul was pale now beneath his golden skin, his superb bone structure harshly prominent. ‘I’m sorry if I overreacted...’
If, Polly reflected dizzily. Such a civilized term after so violent a loss of temper, brief though it had been. And she had discovered another double standard. The man who would be owned by no woman fully believed he owned his wife like a possession. But, ironically, what troubled her most at that instant was the stark awareness that she had really upset Raul. Yet she hadn’t a clue why her silly sarcastic comments should have exploded his cool, controlled façade into a shocking blaze of primitive fury.