He didn’t wait for an invite, simply pushed the door open and strode in, glass of fizzing water in hand.
‘Drink that,’ he said, handing it to her. ‘It’ll help your hangover.’
‘I don’t have a hangover.’ She was quite sure the sickness in her belly was nothing to do with alcohol. Her banging head might be, though.
‘Just drink it.’
How could he look so fresh? He’d showered, his charcoal suit crisply pressed, his hair still damp.
Sulkily, she did as she was told and gulped the liquid down. It tasted much less disgusting than she expected.
He took a deep breath. ‘May I sit down?’
No. Go away and let me sleep away my mortification. ‘If you want.’
He sat on the armchair in the corner and indicated for her to sit on the sofa.
Perching herself gingerly, aware of the humiliation ravaging her, she tried to put on a brave face. Tried to show she didn’t care what he thought of her.
But she did care. She really did.
‘I must apologise for my behaviour last night,’ he said heavily. ‘I should never have taken advantage of you as I did.’
The last thing she’d expected was an apology.
His choice of words made her study him properly.
Her heart loosened to see he wasn’t angry with her. Felipe’s anger was directed at himself.
His self-recrimination also loosened her tongue. ‘You didn’t take advantage of me. If anything I took advantage of you. I started it.’
‘You were drunk,’ he refuted flatly.
‘Not drunk enough that I didn’t know what I was doing.’
Heat pulsed between her thighs as she remembered how wonderful it had been in that moment and how she’d ached to do so much more. She’d had no idea such feelings existed in her. Desire and curiosity had erupted into something she’d had no control over.
And he’d been a full participant. She’d been so busy castigating herself and so busy focussing on his abrupt departure from her suite that she’d pushed aside his response. She might not have had any prior experience but she’d felt his arousal pressed hard against her belly and known what it meant. He’d wanted her as much as she’d wanted him.
He dug his fingers into the back of his skull, a set look in his jaw. ‘I run my company with strict rules. No relations with the client.’
‘Is that what you call it? Relations?’
‘We both know what it means.’ Now he pressed his hand to his forehead. ‘It’s not just the rules I abide by. It’s you. You’re too young to be messing around with men old enough to be your...’
‘Big brother?’ she supplied.
His jaw clenched. ‘Francesca, you are in my care for a very good reason. You’re too young and too vulnerable to be party to a tawdry affair.’
‘My mother got married at nineteen. She was pregnant with Pieta when she was my age. If my family had had their way, I would be married with kids by now. If I want to be party to a tawdry affair, then I’m more than old enough to make that choice.’
‘But you are vulnerable and grieving. You can’t argue with that.’ He got to his feet. ‘You’re my client. There can be nothing between us. Do you understand that?’
She stared at him for a long time, taking in the tension radiating from him. He hadn’t looked her in the eye since entering her suite.
‘Answer me one thing,’ she said. ‘One of the questions I asked last night, and this time I want an answer. Are you attracted to me?’
‘Whatever attraction I feel is irrelevant,’ he answered roughly.
‘It wasn’t irrelevant last night.’
‘Last night was a mistake that will not be repeated.’
‘Says you?’
Jaw clenched, he strode to the door. ‘This conversation is over. If you still want to visit the hospital site and meet up with the charity, then I suggest you get dressed. We leave in thirty minutes.’
He left her suite without further comment.
Alone, Francesca drew her knees to her chin and hugged her legs. She felt she could start dancing again.
For all her fears that she’d made another monumental mistake, Felipe did desire her and that knowledge took away the sting of his rejection. If he’d flat-out denied it she thought it possible she might be tempted to curl into hedgehog-like ball and hibernate until she could be sure of looking at him without toe-curling shame and embarrassment. That the attraction was mutual made it a whole lot easier to bear even if he was adamant that last night was a one off.
Eventually she straightened and took some long breaths, forcing herself to concentrate on what was important. She was in the Caribbean for a reason and that reason wasn’t for a holiday or for a man.
The woman she was meeting from the Blue Train Agency had promised to discuss the hospital, the needs of the people and how Francesca should navigate her way around the additional bureaucracy she would find.
She needed to be alert and have her professional head on, not be fantasising about what it would take to wear down Felipe’s defences.
* * *
The day passed quickly and much more productively than Francesca could have hoped. Eva Bergen from the Blue Train Agency had been there to meet her at Caballeros’ airport, as she’d promised, escorted by a couple of Felipe’s men, and they’d spent the day visiting the site where they hoped to build the hospital and met some of the officials she’d have to deal with when the site was signed over to Pieta’s foundation on Saturday. After arranging meetings with the other officials for the next day, they headed back to Aguadilla.
When they dropped Seb and James off at their lodging, she stayed in the back of the car to make more calls without the distraction of Felipe’s strong thighs in her eyeline.
Her first call was to Alberto. It went to voicemail.
‘Problem?’ Felipe asked from the driver’s seat when she cursed under her breath, adopting the same grim tone he’d used since he’d left her suite that morning.
Clearly his regret of their relations meant he was now determined to keep his distance as much as the situation allowed. Today he’d left it to Seb to stand at her side as principal protection but had still been close enough to listen in on every conversation, close enough to ward off any perceived threat that might come her way.
Not once had he met her eye.
In a way she was grateful for his distance as it had allowed her to concentrate on what needed doing.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of Alberto to arrange for the cash to be sent over in time for the Governor’s party,’ she explained. ‘He’ll know what to do about the bribe too without getting the foundation into trouble but he’s not answering his phone.’
Until everything was sorted out with Pieta’s estate and businesses, Alberto controlled the finances for the foundation. When she’d spoken to him at Pieta’s funeral he’d assured her he would sign off the funds when a deal was brokered.