Kept At The Argentine's Command

That had his attention.

‘I didn’t use any force, querida.’ He was frowning at her. ‘You were with me the whole way. It’s called chemistry.’

‘I know what it’s called.’ She opened her door.

‘Where the hell are you going?’ he growled, not liking her spin on this.

‘Somewhere far away from you.’ Which was when she gave a shriek and slammed the door shut again.

Around them a sea of black-faced sheep surged, like something out of a biblical plague. The car rocked slightly with the force.

‘I probably should have mentioned that,’ Alejandro drawled, winding down his window. ‘We’ve got company.’

CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_9f6786cb-c70c-5148-b889-ea5bdff5685f)

I’M GOING TO DIE.

Lulu went stiff as a board as all around her the road just seemed to fill up with sheep.

‘Welcome to Scotland,’ said Alejandro, propping one arm casually on the door, as if floating in a sea of sheep happened regularly in Argentina.

A whimper had buried itself at the base of her throat, and she just knew that if she opened her mouth it would come out and humiliate her. But, really, how much worse could it get?

She had to speak. To make something happen.

‘Drive, why don’t you?’ she hissed at him a little desperately.

‘Where?’ He gestured at the woolly tide. ‘This is Scotland, chica. Here we give way to sheep.’

Lulu didn’t know if this was true or just more of him tormenting her. She suspected a little of both.

‘Besides,’ he added, ‘the back tyre’s shot.’

Forget the tyre! She was shot. Her mouth pulsed from his kiss and her body felt oddly light, but that might be shock setting in. Because those big, woolly mammoths with their black faces were turning her tummy to cold liquid and her pulse was going so fast she thought she might pass out.

This was worse than a two-hour flight from Paris to Edinburgh, or letting a man she had only known for a few hours at most plant a kiss on her.

This was her worst nightmare.

Because she couldn’t escape. And the knowledge that she was only inches away from a full meltdown in front of this man was probably the only thing keeping her upright and frozen in her seat.

She knew she should never have got in this car with him.

She had no more control over her anxieties than she’d possessed this morning before the flight, when she’d knelt over the porcelain bowl at home in her flat and lost her breakfast.

Dieu, what if she was sick again? In this car? He wouldn’t be kind. There wasn’t a kind bone in his body.

There was a click, and Lulu realised he’d opened his door.

‘What are you doing?’ she almost shrieked.

He looked surprised by her vehemence. ‘I’m going to have a word with the farmer,’ he said mildly. ‘It’s a damn sight better than sitting here. Come on.’

‘No!’ She clutched hold of his arm.

‘Or we could stay here and neck like a couple of teenagers,’ he said dryly.

Lulu let him go in a flash, and discovered she really was between a rock and a hard place.

‘Come on,’ he said more patiently. ‘Stretch your legs.’

Lulu flailed around for a reason not to—any reason. ‘I don’t like sheep. They’re smelly, and—’ she cast about for something...anything ‘—and I’ll wreck my shoes.’

He gave her a look that in all honesty she knew her comments deserved and her toes curled under inside said shoes. The last of the confident, take-on-the-world Lulu died inside her. The Lulu who had sprung to life in his arms and kissed him back barely had time to take flight. She was back to being useless.

What made it worse was that he shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him either way, which she guessed it didn’t.

‘Suit yourself, chica.’ He swung open his door and Lulu realised he was serious.

He was also back to calling her chica.

Lulu watched in tense dismay as he took off in easy strides down the road, all shoulders and masculine confidence, shouting out something to the two men driving the sheep. Obviously magic words, given they waited for him and then stood around conversing with him like old friends.

She sat forward, her nose almost to the glass, wondering what on earth they had to say to one another that was causing such a friendly, animated discussion. When he spoke to her all he did was rile her and growl. Or kiss her. Lulu hesitantly touched her mouth and swore she could still feel tingling.

A loud, long bleat sounded over her right shoulder and Lulu almost shot through the roof, any thoughts of kissing him shattering into a thousand pieces.

To her relief he came strolling back to the car. He leaned in.

‘Some of the connections are probably loose, I could fix it but it might happen again. Tell you what, I’ll give road assistance a call and organize another car. There’s a pub just down the road. We can wander down and wait for them there.’

Lulu knew this was the moment a normal, sensible woman would confess her problem. She would explain why there was no way she could get out, due to her difficulties, and they would come up with a solution together.

Only there wasn’t really a solution, was there? And right now she wasn’t a sensible woman. She was in the grip of a building panic attack.

Lulu heard herself say, ‘I have no intention of going anywhere.’

He straightened up, and for a long, awful moment Lulu thought he was going to turn around and leave her here.

Please don’t abandon me.

The words were forced up from deep inside her, where a small frightened girl was still cowering.

Then she realised he was walking away, and an awful cold feeling began to invade her limbs, only for him to stop at the front of the car.

‘Pop the hood,’ he called to her.

Lulu scrambled to obey him, jamming her middle with the gearstick but hardly noticing. He would never know how grateful she was that he wasn’t going anywhere, and she knew she was safe as long as she stayed in the car.