He arched an incredulous brow. ‘Believe me, querida, you really don’t have the right to act outraged when you tried to strip me last night. I barely got out of here with my dignity intact.’
Isobel tucked the sheet around her, face flaming. ‘So I got a little merry…’
He came closer, and Isobel had to look up and her head hurt.
‘A little merry? You were drunk, and after only two glasses of wine. I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘I told you I don’t have a head for alcohol.’
‘And yet you ignored me when I told you to go easy. You can get as drunk as you like at home, Isobel, but not out in public as my wife. I had to practically carry you out of that restaurant in front of an important business associate and his wife.’
She winced again, but not even hearing him mention his business contact could eclipse the nausea she already felt.
‘And, much as I appreciate your crude effort at seduction, like I said last night, when we make love you’re going to be stone-cold sober and you will remember every moment.’ He started to back away and then stopped. ‘I’m going to be working late tonight, but we’ve been invited to a polo tournament tomorrow. I hope that you’ll be more in control of yourself by then.’
Isobel nodded curtly as waves of mortification threatened to drown her. Rafael just shook his head and gave her a look that said he was satisfied he’d brought his wife back into line, then strode out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Isobel collapsed back on the bed and looked at the ceiling.
An unsavoury thought occurred to her: had she subconsciously sabotaged last night not just out of disgust for his business ethics, or fear of her uncontrollable resp
onse to her husband, but because of the inevitable comparison Rafael would make between her, Isobel, and the sultry Ana Perez?
Isobel sat up. A novice like her could never match up to a practised seductress like Ana. Once Rafael had slept with her and found her wanting he’d realise what a mistake he’d made. There was no way a man as virile as him would want to tie himself to a wife he didn’t want to sleep with…especially not after running into the love of his life.
With an awful sense of inevitability washing over her, and feeling somehow rudderless, Isobel got up wearily and had a hot shower. The truth was that thought didn’t comfort her, and thinking about Rafael finding out what a let-down in bed she was was making her feel hollow inside.
Last night had given her a taste of the corporate life Rafael lived, and Isobel felt a surge of determination to take control of things herself. She wanted to prove that, whatever else happened, she was not going to be like her husband in business matters. She was in this situation and she had to make the best of things. What had Rafael said the other day? Something about the world being her oyster, and that she could do what she wanted…? Even as she thought of that, a kernel of an idea sprang to life in her head and, feeling enthusiastic for the first time in a long time, Isobel dried herself off and got dressed.
That evening, feeling tired but happy, Isobel waited in the lounge for Rafael to come home for dinner. Lots of property brochures were spread out before her. She heard a familiar heavy footfall and looked up to see Rafael filling the door frame. A shiver of foreboding slithered down her spine. He looked furious.
He strode into the room and threw down a paper onto the table in front of her. ‘Want to tell me what the hell you’ve been up to?’
Isobel’s mouth dropped open. She genuinely had no idea what Rafael was talking about. She looked down to see that the paper was an evening edition, and there on the front page was a grainy picture of her shaking a man’s hand outside a decrepit building in La Boca, one of Buenos Aires’s oldest districts. It must have been taken that morning.
There was a headline: Does Romero know what his new wife is up to when he’s not looking?
Isobel looked up to see Rafael glowering, hands on hips. Bristling. She stood, too, because she felt so intimidated. ‘I can explain, Rafael.’
‘Please do. I’m just dying to know why you were doing deals with dubious-looking strangers in broad daylight. Don’t tell me you have a drug habit you’ve been keeping a secret?’
Now Isobel bristled. Her hands clenched to fists at her sides. ‘I thought you told me to occupy my time, Rafael—that I wasn’t a prisoner and that I could do what I wanted with my newfound fortune?’
A muscle clenched in Rafael’s jaw. ‘You can. But not when you lose your security detail and wander into seedy areas.’
Isobel gasped. ‘Since when do I have a security detail?’
Rafael slashed an impatient hand through the air. ‘Of course you have a security detail. You’re a target, Isobel, and today you’ve proved that you’re a ridiculously easy one.’
Isobel was livid now. ‘Well, if you’d informed me that I was a virtual prisoner then I might have been able to keep my gaolers informed as to my movements. If you recall I did try and phone you this morning to tell you what I was doing, but you refused to take my call.’
Rafael’s anger abated for one second. Isobel had tried to call, but he’d been wrapped up in a series of intense meetings and even knowing that she’d called had distracted him unnecessarily. By the time he’d been free there had been a message from her to say it hadn’t been important. And something weak had kept him from calling her anyway…
Stiffly, he said now, ‘I’m sorry about that, but you rang at a busy time.’
Now Isobel waved a hand, the colour in her cheeks high, disgust making her gut clench. ‘Yes, I can well imagine that you were extremely busy figuring out just how you and your nice American partner are going to get rid of the unsightly problem of hundreds of illegal immigrants in the complex you’re negotiating to buy out.’
Rafael went ominously still. His voice dripped with ice. ‘I see you’ve been following reports in the newspapers. You’re a little out of date, though.’
Isobel flushed guiltily, and cursed herself for saying that. ‘Whatever, Rafael. I know what your priorities are. Business first and convenient trophy wife second.’ She stopped for a moment and struggled with her breath, trying to calm down. He’d never listen to her like this. She bit her lip, looking at the paper again and then at Rafael. ‘I want to set up my own business venture.’