Page 15 of Legacy of His Revenge
‘You take the left wing of the house,’ Debbie told her kindly. ‘I’ve checked and all the guests have gone. There shouldn’t be anything much to do at all because the rooms have all been cleaned on a daily basis. This is just a last-minute check to make sure nothing’s been forgotten...and you’ve been saying that you wanted to have a peep at some of the rooms. It’s worth a look. Mr Rivero doesn’t come here very often but it’s always a treat for us when he does because it’s such a grand house.’
Finally back in her comfortable jeans and tee shirt, Sophie decided to do just that. Having not stuck her head over the parapet for the past three days, she took her time exploring the various rooms she had been allocated.
Debbie had been right: there was hardly any tidying to be done at all. Rooms had already been cleared of debris and vacuumed. She wound her way up the marble and glass staircase, admiring the canvasses on the walls as she began checking the bedrooms on the first floor.
The house looked untouched, having been completely tidied by a small army of staff.
Her mind was a complete blank as she pushed open the final door at the end of a long corridor that offered spectacular views of the lake from behind vast floor-to-ceiling panes of reinforced glass.
The first thing she noticed was the feel of pale, thick carpet under her feet as most of the house was a mixture of marble, wood and pale, endless silk rugs. Automatically, she kicked off her sandals and then stepped forwards.
Her eyes travelled to the huge bed...the white walls...the chrome and glass built-in wardrobes...the window that was just one massive pane of glass, uninterrupted by curtains or even shutters, through which Nature in all its lush green glory stretched towards the still black waters of the lake.
Then, to the left, a door she hadn’t even noticed because it so cleverly blended into the pale paint opened and she was staring at Matias.
In pure shock, she took a few seconds to appreciate that he was semi naked. Obviously, he had just had a shower. His dark hair was still damp and a white towel was loosely draped around his lean hips. Apart from that scant covering...nothing. Bare chest, bare legs, bareeverything else.
Sophie wanted to look away but she couldn’t. Her mouth fell open and her eyes widened as she took in the broad muscularity of his shoulders, the width of his hard chest, the arrowing of dark hair down towards that low-slung towel. He was so absurdly, intenselymasculinethat all the breath left her in a whoosh.
She knew that she was staring and she couldn’t do a thing about it. When she finally looked him in the face, it was to find him staring back at her, eyebrows raised. ‘Inspection over?’
Matias had made a point of steering clear of her for the past few days. He’d regrouped and realised that what he had viewed as an interesting challenge that could lead to a number of pleasurable destinations with Sophie was in fact a poorly thought-out plan generated by a temporary lapse in his self-control.
She might be intensely attractive and he might very well be able to rationalise his visceral response to her, but taking her to his bed could only be a bad idea. Yes, pillow talk might result in him hitting the jackpot when it came to finding out more about Carney but there had been no point kidding himself that that had been the overriding reason for his sudden desire to act like a caveman and get her between the sheets. She’d done something to him, cast some spell over him that had made him lose his formidable self-control and that wasn’t going to justify whatever jackpot it might or might not lead to.
So he’d kept away. He’d even considered sleeping with one of the single women who had been at the party, a model he had known briefly several months previously, but in the end had ditched the idea.
Because having entered his head, Sophie had stubbornly lodged there like an irritating burr and he’d found he didn’t want anyone else.
And now here she was. His dark eyes roved over her flushed face and then did a quick tour of her body. These were obviously the clothes she was most comfortable in and she looked sexy as hell in them. The faded jeans clung to her curves like a second skin and the tee shirt revealed breasts that were gloriously abundant.
The kick of his libido demolished every single shred of common sense. Matias had no idea what it felt like to operate without self-imposed boundaries. He was finding out now as he looked at her and surrendered to a surge of lust that could not be forced into abeyance.
The thrill of a challenge waiting to be met was one that wasn’t going to go away until it was dealt with.
He padded across to the bedroom door and quietly shut it and Sophie’s head swung round in alarm.
‘What are you d-doing?’ she stammered, frozen to the spot.
‘I’m closing the door,’ Matias told her gently. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m not exactly dressed for visitors.’
‘I was going to leave...’ Sophie shuffled a couple of paces back but it was laborious, like swimming against a strong current. ‘I had no idea that you were still here.’
‘Where else would I have been?’
‘I thought you’d left with all the other guests.’
‘And not had a talk to you about your performance?’
‘Have I done something wrong?’ Sophie asked in a rush, red as a beetroot, torn between wanting to flee and needing to stay to hear whatever criticisms of her work that he had.
Matias didn’t answer. He turned around and headed towards his wardrobe and Sophie broke out in a film of nervous perspiration.
‘I’d rather talk to you...s-somewhere else,’ she stuttered. ‘If I’d known you were in here, I would never have entered.’
‘I make you uncomfortable,’ Matias said flatly, spinning round to look at her and at the same time throwing on a snowy white shirt without yet removing the towel. He didn’t button it up but left it hanging open over his fabulous chest and Sophie’s mouth went dry.
‘You’re barely clothed,’ she pointed out breathlessly. ‘Of course I feeluncomfortableand I certainly don’t imagine I’ll be able to have a conversation about my duties in your bedroom!’ She went a shade redder. ‘What Imean...is that this is...isn’tthe place for a serious conversation. If I’ve failed in the task you set me, then...then...’ She looked in horror as he hooked one finger over his towel.
