The Secret He Must Claim Page 6

  ‘Santa Madre, you would barter yourself like a whore on a street corner?’ Cortez made no effort to hide his disgust, but to his fury he realised that he still wanted her and he didn’t care that she had lived up to her reputation in the tabloids as a goodtime girl.

  ‘How dare you?’ She reacted instantly and swung her hand up, but his reactions were quicker and he seized her wrist before she could slap his cheek.

  ‘Careful,’ he warned her softly. ‘If you hit me, I’ll retaliate. Right here in front of your guests, I will put you across my knee and spank you as befits the spoiled brat you are. And, believe me, I would dare, Elin.’

  The pink flush on her cheeks deepened to scarlet and she breathed jerkily, causing her breasts to quiver above the low-cut neckline of her dress. Her eyes flashed with temper, but Cortez sensed the scorching sexual chemistry beneath her anger and he felt an answering lick of fire along his manhood.

  ‘You are an odious man,’ she hissed. ‘Why are you even here? You said you would be staying in London.’

  ‘Is that why you decided to throw a party while I was conveniently out of the way? I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that Ralph left me Cuckmere Hall. The house and estate are mine by right of birth—even though my father failed to acknowledge me for most of my life.’ He could not hide his bitterness. ‘I suppose you are angry because your adoptive father excluded you from his will, but I find it distasteful that you arranged a party two days after Ralph’s funeral. You might as well have danced on his grave.’

  She stiffened when he moved his hand to the small of her back and held her tightly against him so that she was forced to dance with him. ‘As a matter of fact, Ralph helped to organise the party before he died,’ she snapped. ‘The charity, Lorna’s Gift, was my brother’s idea and all the funds raised go to helping children living in orphanages around the world.’

  She pointed to a banner on the wall that he had not noticed because his attention had been riveted on Elin. The banner had the slogan Lorna’s Gift and a photograph of a sweet-faced woman who he guessed was Lorna Saunderson. Cortez was aware that Ralph’s wife had died eighteen months ago.

  ‘Clint Cooper was telling me of his intention to make a donation to the charity,’ Elin continued furiously. ‘He was not offering me money for sex. What gives you the right to judge me?’ Her mouth trembled and Cortez sensed she was struggling to control her emotions. ‘Do you think I don’t judge myself?’ she said in a low voice. ‘My birthday party a year ago was the most shameful night of my life. You have no idea how bitterly I regret that I had sex with you.’

  Cortez told himself she was a good actress. He knew her air of innocence was fake. He focused his thoughts on the reason he had driven from London to Sussex on a filthy night. ‘I need to talk to you, but not in here with this deafening music.’ He had noticed there was a conservatory next to the ballroom and he steered her over to it. The glass room was empty and he closed the door to muffle the sound of the disco.

  Elin immediately stepped away from him and put her hands on her hips. ‘What now?’ she demanded belligerently. ‘After we spoke two days ago I got the impression that you had nothing more to say to me, and I certainly have nothing to say to you.’

  He pushed away the infuriating thought that she looked magnificent when she was angry. Her blue eyes gleamed with the fiery brilliance of sapphires and her breasts heaved beneath her velvet gown. ‘When was your son born?’ he said abruptly.

  ‘The sixth of October.’ She did not drop her gaze from his, and Cortez narrowed his eyes to hide his inexplicable feeling of disappointment.

  ‘So he is five months old. You could at least have worked out the maths. You must have conceived in January last year, but we had sex in March.’ His lip curled in disgust as another thought occurred to him. ‘Dios. You must have been pregnant when you slept with me, but you told me I was responsible. Surely you had the sense to realise I would not accept a paternity claim without a DNA test?’

  She shrugged. ‘It was worth a try.’

  Dark and dangerous emotions swirled inside him and he felt the same savage wrench in his gut that he’d felt years ago when Alandra had informed him that she had terminated her pregnancy. He had wanted his baby but he hadn’t been given a chance to be a father. Tonight he had come to Cuckmere Hall because he’d realised there was a chance he was the father of Elin’s son. But she had lied and made a clumsy attempt to foist another man’s child on him.

  His jaw clenched as he struggled to control his anger. He was furious, not only with Elin but with himself because, despite the proof that she was a lying bitch, he was trapped in her spell and the shaming hunger he felt for her was a weakness he found intolerable.

  ‘I warned you not to play games with me.’ He resisted the urge to shake some sense into her. If he touched her he feared he would be lost. ‘Maybe your whole life is a game of endless parties and various sexual partners, but you have a child to consider. I know what it is like to grow up without a father. What will you tell your son when he asks why he doesn’t have a father?’

  She paled, and that made him even angrier. How dare she look so tragic, as if he had wounded her, when he knew—when everyone who read the English tabloids knew about her wild sex-and-drugs party girl reputation?

  ‘I’ll tell Harry the truth,’ she said quietly, ‘which is that his father did not want him.’ Her voice hardened. ‘You’re such a hypocrite. You think that it’s fine for you to sleep around, but you judge the women you sleep with. That’s blatant double standards. Equality between the sexes means nothing. It’s still women who are left with the babies when they are abandoned by their lovers.’

  * * *

  Elin stalked out of the conservatory without giving Cortez a chance to reply. She was incensed by his arrogance and reassured herself that she had done the right thing by misleading him about Harry’s date of birth. Cortez had made it clear he did not want a child, and after hearing his insulting opinion of her it was impossible to see how they could both have a role in Harry’s life.

  It was equally impossible to understand why she allowed herself to be affected by Cortez. But she did not allow it, she thought bitterly. She was kidding herself if she believed she had any control over her reaction to his dangerous good looks, and that thing that smouldered between them, that intense heat that licked through her veins every time she met his gaze and saw the gold flecks in his dark eyes blaze. She did not know what she found more unsettling—her uncontrollable fascination with him, or the realisation that he desired her, and despised himself for it.

  The din in the ballroom, of guests talking loudly in competition with the blaring disco music, had given Elin a headache and after her run-in with Cortez she felt an urgent need to be with her baby. But as she exited the ballroom and was about to run upstairs to the nursery, someone called her name.

  ‘Nat!’ She smiled at the young man who hurried over to her. Nat Davies drove a tractor at the vineyard and he also worked in the winery where his father, Stan, was head winemaker for Saunderson’s Wines. ‘Are you enjoying the party?’

  ‘Yeah, it’s great. But Dad’s just called me and said there’s a problem at the vineyard.’

  Elin frowned as Nat went on to explain that the latest weather forecast predicted an overnight frost. ‘There are already buds on the vines after that unusually warm spell we had at the beginning of March,’ he reminded her. ‘Frost damage now could ruin the entire crop.’

  It could mean the end of Lorna Saunderson’s dream of producing a top quality sparkling wine in England that was on a par with wines from across the Channel. Elin remembered how ten years ago Mama had been inspired to establish a vineyard in Sussex after visiting the Champagne region of France. Ralph had initially been enthusiastic but, as was his way, he had quickly lost interest in the project. It had been Lorna and Elin, aided by a small team of estate workers, w
ho had planted fifteen acres of Chardonnay and Pinot Noir vines in the chalky soil.

  The winery had been producing wine for seven years, and the previous year’s vintage had been the best yet. Following Lorna’s death, it had been important to Elin to keep her mother’s dream alive, but the terms of Ralph’s will meant that her involvement with Saunderson’s Wines would soon be over. The vines were Cortez’s responsibility now, she reminded herself. But she couldn’t bear the idea that all the years of Mama’s hard work could be wiped out by a frost.

  ‘We’ll have to light the frost candles,’ she told Nat. She glanced at her watch. ‘It’s almost midnight. We need to hurry before the temperature drops to below freezing. Go and round up any of the estate workers from the party who are sober enough to help.’

  Twenty minutes later, Elin drove the farm truck through the grounds of the Cuckmere estate up to the vineyard. It was a clear night and the full moon cast a silver gleam over the rolling Sussex Downs. She briefly wondered what Cortez would make of her if he saw her as she was dressed now. She had changed out of her glamorous ball gown, into jeans and as many jumpers as she could fit beneath her duffel coat.

  The air was icy when she climbed out of the truck and walked through the vineyard, but remembering her last conversation with Cortez made her burn with anger. She had not noticed his car on the drive, and hoped he had returned to London and she would never see him again. It was imperative that she moved out of Cuckmere Hall as soon as possible so that she could avoid him. Although it would break her heart to leave the only home she had ever known, she thought bleakly.

  She forced her mind away from Cortez Ramos and concentrated on the task of lighting eight hundred bougies—or frost candles. They were the size of big paint tins, filled with paraffin wax and a wick, and were placed at intervals between the rows of vines. When the bougies were lit they warmed the air temperature enough to prevent frost from damaging the tender new shoots on the plants.

  It was laborious work walking along the endless rows of vines and stooping every few yards to light the candles, and Elin was grateful to Nat and his father and a couple of estate workers who had come to help. When they had finished, the sight of acres of vineyards glowing with golden lights was spectacular, but Elin knew that in a few hours all the candles would have to be extinguished when the sun rose and the temperature lifted a few degrees. She sent Nat and the other workers home, but Stan stayed with her to keep a watch on the bougies. It was nearly seven a.m. by the time they had put all the candles out and she was able to return to the house.

  Harry was awake in his cot and greeted her with a winsome smile that melted her heart. While she fed him she had to force her eyes to remain open, until Barbara gently lifted the baby out of her arms. ‘Go to bed for a couple of hours,’ the nanny told her. ‘I’ll put Harry in his pram and take him for a walk. You won’t be able to take care of him while you’re exhausted from lack of sleep.’

  Elin was too tired to argue but, when she crawled into bed, worries about the future circled in her mind. How would she manage to hold down a job and take care of her son without Barbara’s help? What job was she likely to find when her only qualifications were in viticulture and oenology? Wine production was a growing industry in England but most vineyards were small, family run businesses.

  There was also the question of where she was going to live. She had checked out the two cottages that Ralph had left her and her brother and found that both properties had a problem with damp, which would not be a healthy environment for a baby.

  She had not heard from Jarek and he hadn’t answered any of her calls. She hoped he hadn’t been drinking too much. It was vital Cortez did not find out that her brother had developed a reliance on vodka to help him cope with his feelings of guilt and grief about Mama’s death.

  Elin’s head felt as if it would explode, and when she did eventually fall asleep her shamefully erotic dreams were fuelled by memories of Cortez’s naked, powerfully muscular body pressing down on her and the bold thrust of his manhood pushing between her thighs.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE GRAVEL CRUNCHED beneath Cortez’s feet as he strode down the driveway. When he passed the ornamental pool he noticed there was a layer of ice on the surface of the water, despite the fact that it was officially the first day of spring. He missed the warmth and sunshine of southern Spain, and he’d told Elin the truth when he’d said he had no desire to live in the draughty monstrosity Cuckmere Hall which Ralph Saunderson had bequeathed to him.

  He had left his car next to the gatehouse the previous night. There had been nowhere to park in front of the house because Elin’s party guests had parked their cars there. This morning the only other vehicle on the driveway was an old truck that he assumed belonged to one of the estate workers. It was unlikely that the party princess would drive a mud-spattered farm vehicle, Cortez thought cynically.

  He recalled his sleepless night in the master bedroom which the staff had prepared for him. The past few days had been hectic, and he’d been unable to face driving back to London late at night. But it had felt strange to be in the room that had once been Ralph Saunderson’s. He’d wondered if his father had invited his mother into the bedroom when she had been employed at the house as a maid. It had occurred to Cortez that in all probability he had been conceived at Cuckmere Hall, but when his mother had revealed she was pregnant Ralph had sent her back to Spain. He frowned as he remembered the remark Elin had made that women were in a vulnerable position if they were abandoned by their lover and left to bring up a baby alone. It was why he had visited Elin again, to establish if there was any chance he could be her baby’s father.

  Now he knew what a lying bitch she was, he thought savagely. He unlocked his car and threw his bag into the boot. The sound of a baby crying caught his attention and he looked up to see a woman dressed in a beige nurse’s uniform pushing a pram down the driveway. He guessed she was the nanny and the crying infant must be Elin’s son. Despite himself, Cortez was curious.

  ‘Good morning.’ He smiled at the woman. ‘Your charge does not sound happy.’

  She halted beside the car and gave a rueful laugh. ‘I think Harry wants his mother but Miss Saunderson is sleeping in this morning.’

  Cortez glanced into the pram and shock jolted through him when he saw that the baby had a mass of jet-black hair. He visualised Elin’s pale blonde hair and doubt flickered in his mind. There was no way the child could be his because the date of conception did not tally with when he’d slept with Elin, he assured himself.

  ‘At the party last night Elin mentioned that her son is five months old,’ he said casually to the nanny.

  ‘As a matter of fact he is three months.’ The nanny reached into the pram and folded the blanket away from the baby’s face. ‘Although he is growing so fast that he could be mistaken as being older.’

  ‘I must have misheard Elin. I thought she said her son was born in October,’ Cortez murmured. He stared into the pram and was aware of the painful thud of his heart. The baby had ceased crying and stared back at him with unblinking dark eyes flecked with gold.

  ‘Harry’s birthday is the sixth of December,’ the nanny told him. ‘Elin says he was an early Christmas present.’ She gave Cortez a polite nod before she continued to walk down the drive, pushing the pram in front of her. She did not appear to hear the choked sound he made as his acute sense of shock turned to anger.

  Why had Elin lied about her baby’s date of birth? Could black-haired, dark-eyed little Harry be his son? He would get the truth from Elin if he had to drag it out of her, Cortez vowed grimly.

  The butler greeted him deferentially when he returned to the house. The staff had been informed that he was Ralph Saunderson’s son and heir and no doubt they hoped to keep their jobs at Cuckmere Hall. He elicited from Baines that Elin’s suite of rooms were in the east wing. He took the stairs two at a
time and strode down the corridor, but when he hammered on the door there was no answer. Without hesitating he turned the handle and walked into a large sitting room.

  The elegantly furnished room was filled with light that poured in through the tall windows overlooking the gardens at the back of the house. Cortez thought of the rundown farmhouse where he had lived with his mother when he was a boy. The house had only had two rooms and he’d slept on the couch in the living room. Many nights he had lain awake watching his mother sewing traditional flamenco dresses which she sold to tourists at the market as a way of earning a little more money.

  Once again bitterness surged through him as he recalled the poverty he and his mother had endured while his father’s adopted daughter had grown up in the luxurious surroundings of an English mansion. According to the nanny, Elin was still in bed at ten o’clock in the morning. No doubt she had enjoyed being the lady of the manor since Lorna Saunderson’s death and had expected that her affluent lifestyle would continue. It must have been a great shock when she’d learned that Ralph had left her virtually nothing, Cortez thought cynically.

  He prowled through the private suite of rooms and discovered a small kitchen and a nursery painted a sunny yellow. Something on the wall of the nursery caught Cortez’s eye and he walked over to take a closer look at a framed photo of a newborn baby wearing a hospital tag on his wrist. The baby’s birth weight and date of birth were printed beneath the photo, stating that Harry had entered the world on the sixth of December, weighing seven pounds and two ounces.

  Cortez’s jaw was rigid with tension as he knocked on the door next to the nursery. There was no reply and, unable to contain his impatience, he let himself into what was obviously Elin’s bedroom. As he glanced around at the pastel pink décor a door at the far end of the room opened and Elin walked into her bedroom from the en suite bathroom.