A Touch of Notoriety(52)

‘Yes.’

‘But didn’t you explain to him that you were completely innocent, that Margarita had done this to herself? That this wasn’t the first time she had tried to proposition you?’

‘How truly naïve you are, Beth.’ Raphael eyed her pityingly. ‘Of course I told him those things. But what should he believe, the evidence of his own eyes—Margarita’s dishevelled appearance, her tears and distress, her accusations that I had tried to rape her—or the son who stood before him with a raging erection and denying any attraction for his young and beautiful stepmother? I was nineteen years old, Beth,’ he added hardly as her eyes now widened in shock. ‘An age when a woman’s bared shoulder could give me an erection, let alone a pair of magnificent breasts!’

Beth’s cheeks felt hot with embarrassment at Raphael’s last comment. Shocked by the other things he had told her, but definitely embarrassed at hearing he had been aroused by his stepmother’s advances, in spite of himself. ‘Did your father throw you out?’

‘Of course,’ Raphael grated harshly. ‘And I was only too happy to go, believe me. But not before I had made arrangements for Rosa to live with my sister Delores. My sister was the only reason I had returned to the ranch for as long as I had after my father’s second marriage. Because of Rosa’s slowness Margarita took delight in being cruel to her at times when my father was not looking.’

‘She sounds an absolute bitch!’ Beth muttered disgustedly.

‘Yes,’ he confirmed heavily. ‘Have you heard enough now?’ he rasped scathingly. ‘Can we now both get on with our preparations to leave England today?’

‘Not yet.’ Beth gave a distracted shake of her head. ‘Okay, I accept that at nineteen you probably weren’t mature enough to deal with someone as vicious and manipulative as your stepmother so obviously was, but what about the last fourteen years? Have you been back, explained the situation to your father?’

He eyed her impatiently. ‘As it happens, I did not need to do so.’

‘Oh?’

Raphael grimaced. ‘My father was less inclined to believe Margarita when, several years later, she tried to use the same excuse after he found her naked, in their marriage bed, in the arms of one of his gauchos.’

‘So you and your father are reconciled?’

A nerve pulsed in the tightness of his jaw. ‘No.’

A frown appeared between her eyes. ‘Why not?’

‘Because we are Cordobas,’ Raphael snapped.

Her expression grew rueful. ‘Meaning that your father is just as arrogant and proud as you are?’

‘We are Cordobas,’ he repeated, his eyes having turned an icy blue.

‘I’ve never heard anything so ridiculous in my life before!’ Beth eyed him impatiently.

‘That is because everything is so very black-and-white to you,’ Raphael drawled derisively.

Beth felt slightly stung by his ‘black-and-white’ comment coming so soon after his accusation of her naiveté. And maybe she was both of those things, but it still hurt to have Raphael say it so cuttingly. ‘This situation is black-and-white,’ she insisted. ‘Your father made a mistake fourteen years ago, a mistake you’re both too proud to admit, and reconcile your differences. How old is your father, Raphael?’ He frowned.

‘What does that have to do with anything?’

‘A lot, if you ever intend to heal the rift between the two of you.’ Beth grimaced.

‘And why would I wish to do that?’

‘Because he’s your father. Because he made a mistake, a mistake he’s paid for dearly, first by losing his only son, and then the woman who had betrayed him. Because,’ she continued firmly as Raphael would have spoken, ‘in spite of everything, you love him...’

He drew himself up stiffly. ‘This is none of your concern—’

‘Of course it isn’t,’ Beth accepted impatiently. ‘Except—’

‘Can you be ready to leave in one hour’s time?’ Raphael rasped harshly.

‘End of conversation?’ she guessed ruefully.

Raphael nodded abruptly. ‘End of conversation.’

Beth studied him closely for several seconds, knowing by his closed expression that he had no intention of discussing this subject any more with her today. If ever.

She nodded wearily. ‘My bags are already packed and waiting upstairs.’ She had been up before dawn—after sleeping fitfully for only a couple of hours—to pack her things in readiness for what she knew was their imminent departure to Argentina.