hands on hips. He was smiling,
but Charlie could see the glitter of anger in his eyes, and her heart
lurched unsteadily. How much had he heard? she asked herself.
'Bom dia, senhor,' he said, strolling forward. 'I am glad to know that
you clearly feel so much better.' He paused. 'I see also that my noiva
has introduced herself.'
'Noiva?' Philip Hughes enquired plaintively. 'I don't quite
understand...'
'My future wife.' Riago drew Charlie's rigid arm through his. 'Or did
she not tell you that?'
'I think she was just getting round to it.' The other man gave them
both an uneasy look. 'I— I wish you both every happiness, of
course.'
'And I wish you,' Riago said, smiling, 'a full and speedy recovery—
and total recall. Unless, of course, the past is unimportant to you,' he
added silkily.
'It might be.' Philip Hughes gave a slight laugh. 'But, unfortunately,
I have no way of knowing.
It's a damnable position to be in, as I was explaining to Miss
Graham.'
'I do not believe she would be in sympathy with you. Carlotta would
prefer to blot out the immediate past, I think.' Riago leaned down
and removed the lunch tray, placing it on the bedside table. 'And
now we will leave you to rest.'
Outside in the hallway he pulled her round to face him. 'Do I speak
your language so badly?'
Charlie tried to free herself. 'What do you mean?'
'I told you to keep away from him,' he said harshly. 'And yet I find
you in his room. Why?'
'Why didn't you tell me you'd found out he was English?' she
countered.
'Because I did not think it mattered.' His mouth was hard. 'Or does
sharing a nationality bestow some sacred kinship in your eyes?'
'Naturally I'm interested. And I've never met anyone suffering from
amnesia before. I'm sure if I were to talk to him—about home, for
instance—I could jog his memory.'
'This is your home now,' Riago said icily. 'And I am equally sure
your fellow countryman's memory will return in its own good
time— without any intervention from you. This is your final
warning, Carlotta. Keep away from him, or I shall be angry with
you.'
'I'm shivering in my shoes,' she said defiantly.
Riago muttered something under his breath, and jerked her into his
arms. 'There is only one way to deal with you,' he flung at her.
'Let me go.' Her voice emerged as a croak.
'Never.' The bronze face seemed to have been hewn from teak as he
bent to her. Charlie closed her eyes. If she could blot him out of her
vision she might also be able to erase what he was going to do to
her, she thought crazily.
But it was futile—impossible. The heated pressure of his hard body
against hers was a reality she could not ignore. And his kiss was
deep and totally sensual, draining the moisture from her mouth and
the breath from her lungs. His hand sought her breast through the
thin fabric of her dress, bringing her nipple to a throbbing peak of
shameful excitement under the mastery of his fingers.
Head reeling, Charlie had to cling to his shoulders to stop herself
collapsing on to the floor at his feet. The swift inrush of desire, as
unwelcome as it was unexpected, was making her whole body
pliant, fluid as he held her against him. This time she found she
could recognise the power of his arousal without fear, and a sob,
raw with need, rose in her throat.
'Do you want me, carinha? The caress of his voice seemed to
splinter on her jagged nerve- endings.
Yes, she thought, fiercely. Oh, yes, damn you. And you know it...
But the only sound to escape her was a tiny, aching sigh.
Riago pushed her against the wall, his hand tangling in her hair as
he brought her mouth to his once more.
Whatever he asked, she thought as his hand smoothed the slight
curve of her hip and moved downwards in flagrant demand.
Whatever he asked, she would give. Nothing else existed in the
world but Riago, and this ecstatic promise of pleasure.
Or nothing they were aware of until a scandalised voice cut across
the sensuous
but Charlie could see the glitter of anger in his eyes, and her heart
lurched unsteadily. How much had he heard? she asked herself.
'Bom dia, senhor,' he said, strolling forward. 'I am glad to know that
you clearly feel so much better.' He paused. 'I see also that my noiva
has introduced herself.'
'Noiva?' Philip Hughes enquired plaintively. 'I don't quite
understand...'
'My future wife.' Riago drew Charlie's rigid arm through his. 'Or did
she not tell you that?'
'I think she was just getting round to it.' The other man gave them
both an uneasy look. 'I— I wish you both every happiness, of
course.'
'And I wish you,' Riago said, smiling, 'a full and speedy recovery—
and total recall. Unless, of course, the past is unimportant to you,' he
added silkily.
'It might be.' Philip Hughes gave a slight laugh. 'But, unfortunately,
I have no way of knowing.
It's a damnable position to be in, as I was explaining to Miss
Graham.'
'I do not believe she would be in sympathy with you. Carlotta would
prefer to blot out the immediate past, I think.' Riago leaned down
and removed the lunch tray, placing it on the bedside table. 'And
now we will leave you to rest.'
Outside in the hallway he pulled her round to face him. 'Do I speak
your language so badly?'
Charlie tried to free herself. 'What do you mean?'
'I told you to keep away from him,' he said harshly. 'And yet I find
you in his room. Why?'
'Why didn't you tell me you'd found out he was English?' she
countered.
'Because I did not think it mattered.' His mouth was hard. 'Or does
sharing a nationality bestow some sacred kinship in your eyes?'
'Naturally I'm interested. And I've never met anyone suffering from
amnesia before. I'm sure if I were to talk to him—about home, for
instance—I could jog his memory.'
'This is your home now,' Riago said icily. 'And I am equally sure
your fellow countryman's memory will return in its own good
time— without any intervention from you. This is your final
warning, Carlotta. Keep away from him, or I shall be angry with
you.'
'I'm shivering in my shoes,' she said defiantly.
Riago muttered something under his breath, and jerked her into his
arms. 'There is only one way to deal with you,' he flung at her.
'Let me go.' Her voice emerged as a croak.
'Never.' The bronze face seemed to have been hewn from teak as he
bent to her. Charlie closed her eyes. If she could blot him out of her
vision she might also be able to erase what he was going to do to
her, she thought crazily.
But it was futile—impossible. The heated pressure of his hard body
against hers was a reality she could not ignore. And his kiss was
deep and totally sensual, draining the moisture from her mouth and
the breath from her lungs. His hand sought her breast through the
thin fabric of her dress, bringing her nipple to a throbbing peak of
shameful excitement under the mastery of his fingers.
Head reeling, Charlie had to cling to his shoulders to stop herself
collapsing on to the floor at his feet. The swift inrush of desire, as
unwelcome as it was unexpected, was making her whole body
pliant, fluid as he held her against him. This time she found she
could recognise the power of his arousal without fear, and a sob,
raw with need, rose in her throat.
'Do you want me, carinha? The caress of his voice seemed to
splinter on her jagged nerve- endings.
Yes, she thought, fiercely. Oh, yes, damn you. And you know it...
But the only sound to escape her was a tiny, aching sigh.
Riago pushed her against the wall, his hand tangling in her hair as
he brought her mouth to his once more.
Whatever he asked, she thought as his hand smoothed the slight
curve of her hip and moved downwards in flagrant demand.
Whatever he asked, she would give. Nothing else existed in the
world but Riago, and this ecstatic promise of pleasure.
Or nothing they were aware of until a scandalised voice cut across
the sensuous
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