again.’
‘Really?’ Angie folded her arms and speared a look at him. ‘Perhaps the blonde bombshell I met in the kitchen this morning keeps your libido less slavelike these days?’ she struck back. ‘Because all I recall from the last time we lived together is you wanting it wherever and whenever you could get it, and turning into a growling nasty bear when I said no—like you’re doing now.’
‘You never said no,’ he countered. ‘You grabbed with both hands and whatever other greedy part of your anatomy you could grab me with. When I mentioned the bed thing—’ he rolled a long-fingered hand ‘—I was merely trying to point out that you have been defaulting on our agreement from the moment we agreed it. And who is the blonde bombshell?’ he demanded curiously.
Feeling slightly ashamed that she’d brought Molly Stewart into this just to score points—though she was still uncertain as to whether the new cleaner
did
have other special duties—Angie stepped up to the desk.
‘Thanks for my stuff.’ She gathered up keys, phone and chequebook, then turned to leave.
‘Where do you think you are going?’ he sighed out.
‘To make myself scarce while you decide what the heck it is we’re supposed to be fighting about.’
‘Well, don’t make yourself too scarce. We are due to fly to Portugal in a couple of hours.’
Angie froze, then swung back round again. ‘Portugal? ‘ she echoed, as if he’d named a different planet.
‘I live there,’ Roque reminded her.
‘Yes, but …’ The ground suddenly felt shaky beneath Angie’s feet.
‘My London offices usually see me only one week a month.’
‘Yes.’ She knew that too. ‘But …’
Roque looked at her and waited, drawing her hesitation out as if it was stretched on wires while her mind ran through the string of objections she wanted to utter before she discarded them one by one in case she fed his weird mood.
‘I thought …’ She stopped yet again, and her lips quivered on a shaky intake of air. ‘There’s my job—’
‘Already sorted. Carlina has given you an extended leave of absence.’
So that was what their cosy meeting for two had been all about. Roque had convinced Carla to let her go, probably using the ‘giving their marriage a second chance’ excuse, and Carla had let him convince her without asking Angie what she wanted to do.
‘You are not my mistress, Angie,’ he inserted into the steadily thickening silence, so coolly she almost missed the relevance of the prod. ‘In general mistresses stay put in one place while wives travel.’
Nadia suddenly stood between them like a raven-haired apparition, with a very smug smile on herbeautiful face. Nadia was as exotically Brazilian as Roque was hot-blooded Portuguese. They even spoke the same language, which meant they could converse with each without anyone around them knowing what they said.
And Nadia travelled … As Angie had once travelled … Nadia followed the fashion drum wherever it led her, and if that happened to be the same port of call Roque was in then so much the better—did he think she was dumb?
‘Well, I don’t travel any more,’ she said.
‘You will go where I say you will go.’ Roque flatly countered that. ‘I let you off the hook too much the last time we were together. I let you dictate where and when I was allowed to be with my own wife. This time you will do the compromising,
querida
—and remember, please, before you start yelling at me, that your brother’s present situation is depending on your absolute acceptance of that.’
A ragged laugh was torn from Angie. ‘I don’t even know what his situation is, since you haven’t bothered to tell me.’
Roque flicked out a grimace in acknowledgement of that.
‘But if you think I’m going to just fly off to Portugal and leave Alex here alone to get into—’ Belatedly realising what she’d been going to say, Angie choked the rest of that sentence back.
Too late, though, to
‘Really?’ Angie folded her arms and speared a look at him. ‘Perhaps the blonde bombshell I met in the kitchen this morning keeps your libido less slavelike these days?’ she struck back. ‘Because all I recall from the last time we lived together is you wanting it wherever and whenever you could get it, and turning into a growling nasty bear when I said no—like you’re doing now.’
‘You never said no,’ he countered. ‘You grabbed with both hands and whatever other greedy part of your anatomy you could grab me with. When I mentioned the bed thing—’ he rolled a long-fingered hand ‘—I was merely trying to point out that you have been defaulting on our agreement from the moment we agreed it. And who is the blonde bombshell?’ he demanded curiously.
Feeling slightly ashamed that she’d brought Molly Stewart into this just to score points—though she was still uncertain as to whether the new cleaner
did
have other special duties—Angie stepped up to the desk.
‘Thanks for my stuff.’ She gathered up keys, phone and chequebook, then turned to leave.
‘Where do you think you are going?’ he sighed out.
‘To make myself scarce while you decide what the heck it is we’re supposed to be fighting about.’
‘Well, don’t make yourself too scarce. We are due to fly to Portugal in a couple of hours.’
Angie froze, then swung back round again. ‘Portugal? ‘ she echoed, as if he’d named a different planet.
‘I live there,’ Roque reminded her.
‘Yes, but …’ The ground suddenly felt shaky beneath Angie’s feet.
‘My London offices usually see me only one week a month.’
‘Yes.’ She knew that too. ‘But …’
Roque looked at her and waited, drawing her hesitation out as if it was stretched on wires while her mind ran through the string of objections she wanted to utter before she discarded them one by one in case she fed his weird mood.
‘I thought …’ She stopped yet again, and her lips quivered on a shaky intake of air. ‘There’s my job—’
‘Already sorted. Carlina has given you an extended leave of absence.’
So that was what their cosy meeting for two had been all about. Roque had convinced Carla to let her go, probably using the ‘giving their marriage a second chance’ excuse, and Carla had let him convince her without asking Angie what she wanted to do.
‘You are not my mistress, Angie,’ he inserted into the steadily thickening silence, so coolly she almost missed the relevance of the prod. ‘In general mistresses stay put in one place while wives travel.’
Nadia suddenly stood between them like a raven-haired apparition, with a very smug smile on herbeautiful face. Nadia was as exotically Brazilian as Roque was hot-blooded Portuguese. They even spoke the same language, which meant they could converse with each without anyone around them knowing what they said.
And Nadia travelled … As Angie had once travelled … Nadia followed the fashion drum wherever it led her, and if that happened to be the same port of call Roque was in then so much the better—did he think she was dumb?
‘Well, I don’t travel any more,’ she said.
‘You will go where I say you will go.’ Roque flatly countered that. ‘I let you off the hook too much the last time we were together. I let you dictate where and when I was allowed to be with my own wife. This time you will do the compromising,
querida
—and remember, please, before you start yelling at me, that your brother’s present situation is depending on your absolute acceptance of that.’
A ragged laugh was torn from Angie. ‘I don’t even know what his situation is, since you haven’t bothered to tell me.’
Roque flicked out a grimace in acknowledgement of that.
‘But if you think I’m going to just fly off to Portugal and leave Alex here alone to get into—’ Belatedly realising what she’d been going to say, Angie choked the rest of that sentence back.
Too late, though, to
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