Nights of Passion: Mendez's Mistress / Bedded for the Italian's Pleasure / The Pregnancy Affair

She felt so hot suddenly, a bead of sweat trickling down between her breasts. Which was ridiculous, considering the coolness of the car. To distract herself, she tried to find some interest in the buildings that lined the other side of the wide boulevard: neo-classical styles fighting for space between modern high-rises, the occasional square of parkland a welcome splash of greenery.

‘Um, Palm Cove,’ she murmured, aware that Joe was still watching her. ‘Is it much farther?’

‘Not far.’ Joe shifted forward in his seat and her heart leapt into her throat. But although his thigh briefly brushed hers, all he did was open a small chilled cabinet set beneath the polished console opposite. Inside was a selection of sodas and mixers, and gesturing, he said, ‘Are you thirsty?’

Rachel’s mouth was dry, but she doubted a drink would cure it. Still, the sight of the frosted bottles was appealing, and she said a little breathlessly, ‘Do you have mineral water?’

‘Water?’ Joe studied the contents of the cabinet. ‘Yeah, sure. There you go.’ He handed her a bottle. ‘You need a glass?’

‘Oh—no.’ Rachel unscrewed the cap with some difficulty. Her fingers were hot and slippery, but thankfully he didn’t offer to do it for her. ‘This is fine.’

‘Good.’ Joe closed the cabinet again and lounged back in his seat. Then, his eyes on the slender column of her throat visible above the open neck of her cotton shirt, he added, ‘You do know that’s where Steve and Lauren live? Palm Cove, I mean.’

Rachel almost choked on the water. ‘No,’ she gasped, when she was able. ‘No, I didn’t.’ The last address she’d been given was the apartment—or condo—they’d occupied in Miami itself.

‘Oh, yeah.’ Joe wondered what else Steve hadn’t told her. ‘They share the Johansen mansion with Lauren’s old man. His wife died a couple of years ago, and I guess he got tired of rattling round that old place on his own.’

Rachel’s tongue circled her lips. ‘So Daisy’s been staying there, too?’

Joe frowned. ‘That bothers you?’

‘Not exactly.’ Rachel made a helpless gesture. ‘I just wish I’d known, that’s all.’

Joe hesitated. ‘But you know about the accident, right?’

‘Well, I know she fell off the Johansens’ yacht and hit her head,’ replied Rachel at once. ‘And that she apparently wasn’t wearing a life jacket. I’ll certainly take that up with her father, if I get the chance.’ She paused. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea when she’ll be allowed to leave the hospital? I mean, if she’s been there three days already …’

Joe stifled an oath. This was what he’d been afraid of. Evidently, his address wasn’t the only thing Steve had kept from his ex-wife, and now Joe was faced with the unpleasant task of having to tell her himself or allowing her to walk into her daughter’s room, totally blind to the circumstances of her condition.

He’d been silent too long and Rachel wasn’t a fool. She’d noticed his expression and now she demanded, ‘Why are you looking so grim?’ She swallowed. ‘What do you know that I don’t?’

Joe blew out a breath. Steve was going to hear about this, he thought savagely. Right now, he felt like pushing the other man’s teeth down his throat. It would have given him an immense amount of satisfaction, not to mention relieving a little of his own frustration.

Obviously Rachel had come here unaware of what had happened after Daisy had been helicoptered to the hospital in Palm Cove. She had no idea that Daisy’s injuries had been considered too serious to be dealt with by the Emergency Room doctors and that Daisy had been transferred to a specialist neurological unit attached to the far more expensive facility patronised by the Johansens.

‘Look,’ he said carefully, ‘First off, Daisy’s going to be fine.’

‘Why doesn’t that reassure me?’

‘But she won’t be leaving hospital for a few days yet.’

‘Why not?’ Rachel felt the water she’d just swallowed churning around in her stomach. My God, what had really happened? What had they kept from her? She should have guessed it had been something more serious than a simple blow to the head. ‘Please,’ she said, unthinkingly putting a hand on his knee. ‘You’ve got to tell me.’

Despising the inappropriate response his body was having to those soft, damp fingers clinging to his leg, Joe gently but firmly removed them. But he kept her hand between both of his as he said, ‘She had to have an operation—’

‘An operation!’

Rachel looked horrified and he couldn’t blame her. He knew a momentary urge to comfort her, to pull her into his arms and hold her close, but he determinedly suppressed it. He knew where that could lead.

‘It was just a small operation,’ he said, smoothing her knuckles with his thumb. ‘There was some pressure and it had to be relieved. But as I say, she’s making great progress.’

Rachel was trembling. He could feel it. The hand he was holding was shaking uncontrollably and, abandoning any hope of remaining objective, Joe slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her towards him.

She didn’t resist, probably because she was too shocked to notice what was happening. She pressed her hot face into the hollow of his throat and, seconds later, he felt her tears soaking the front of his shirt.

‘God, Rachel,’ he muttered, his hands tightening automatically, and then Luther turned and saw them.

The chauffeur knew better than to show any emotion, but Joe realised that during the upheaval of the last few minutes they had reached their destination. The rather tawdry blue-painted facade of the Park Plaza hotel was visible just across the intersection and Luther was waiting for further instructions.

With some reluctance, Joe withdrew his arms and, allowing her to rest against the supple upholstery, he lowered the screen an inch or two to speak to the other man. ‘Let’s go straight to the hospital, Luther,’ he said briskly, and the chauffeur didn’t demur.

Rachel had found a tissue in her handbag and was engrossed in repairing the damage caused by her tears. She didn’t meet Joe’s eyes, but he knew she was as aware of what had almost happened as he was. If Luther hadn’t turned at that moment, Joe knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from kissing her. And that would have been a totally unforgiveable thing to do. Damn it, she needed support, not seduction.

He scowled. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. She was so not his type. He’d always gone for sophisticated women before; women who, like him, knew the score. Not inexperienced females with one failed relationship behind them and more baggage than he cared to consider.

Yet, when he looked at Rachel, he didn’t see a woman who was older than he was and who already had a child. He saw a warm, vulnerable female who, he had to admit, got to him in a way none of his other girlfriends ever had. Sitting there in her travel-stained trousers and creased shirt, her heat-dampened blonde hair spilling untidily about her shoulders, she aroused emotions he would have sworn he didn’t possess.

He stifled a groan. Now was so not the time to be having these kind of thoughts. Raking a hand over his own hair, he gripped the back of his neck with a tormented hand. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the tautness in his spine. And knew if he could get his hands on Steve at that moment.

But he couldn’t. And he had to deal with it. Even if the kind of temptation Rachel presented drove him crazy in the process.

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN the car started moving again, Rachel realised that they weren’t turning into the forecourt of the Park Plaza hotel.

She’d glimpsed the facade of the building across the intersection as she’d dried her eyes, and had assumed Luther was just waiting for the traffic signals to change in their favour before he made his move. But when the vehicle started away it ignored the entrance to the hotel, continuing down the thoroughfare they’d been travelling on before.

‘But, wasn’t that—?’ she began, only to have Joe interrupt her.

‘I thought you might prefer to go straight to the hospital,’ he said, settling back beside her. ‘I know Daisy’s eager to see you.’

‘Is she?’ Tears pricked Rachel’s eyes again, but she determinedly blinked them away. She’d already made a fool of herself by breaking down in front of him. She just hoped he didn’t think she was putting on an act for his benefit. ‘So—so how serious was this operation?’

Joe blew out a sigh. ‘Fairly serious,’ he said, after a moment. ‘As I said before, there was some pressure on her brain and it had to be relieved.’

Rachel couldn’t prevent her gasp of horror. ‘My God! No wonder Steve was so reluctant to let me know what had happened.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Joe tried to be pragmatic. ‘It’s possible he wanted to wait until she’d had the operation before he called you. Until the crisis was over, so to speak.’

‘You think?’

Rachel looked at him with rain-washed green eyes and Joe knew he couldn’t lie to her. ‘Okay, maybe not,’ he conceded. ‘I guess he didn’t want to admit he’d screwed up. All I can say in his defence is that as soon as it was realised that she needed specialist treatment he had her transferred to a neurological unit that’s used to dealing with head injuries.’

Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘So she’s not at the hospital near the Park Plaza?’

‘She’s at another facility in the town,’ he explained evenly. ‘She’s had the best treatment money can buy, I can vouch for that.’

Rachel caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I booked into the Park Plaza hotel because it was near the hospital,’ she murmured, half to herself. And then, realising he was listening to her, she said quickly, ‘How much further do we have to go?’