A Dangerous Game (17 page)

Nicolas laughed.

"What a neat way of putting it.
 
Raoul is always getting

over-enthusiastic about some thing.
 
A woman, a new hobby, or a

splendid good cause.
 
He's an emotional dilettante.
 
But what do you

expect from the offspring of a Frenchman and a whore."

"Just because Juanita Marquez had a couple of affairs after she was

married, it doesn't make her a whore," Jacey said.

"She was a whore before she married," Nicolas said.

"A whore who thought marrying money would make her a lady.
 
Which it

didn't, of course.
 
And she didn't just have a couple of affairs, as

you so politely say.
 
She fucked everyone she could lay her hands on,

male or female.
 
She even made a play for me.
 
She liked to tease, to

lead people on.
 
In the end, someone obviously got frustrated with her

games, and killed her."

"You think she's really dead?"
 
Jacey asked.

"Of course."
 
He gave her a quizzical look.

"Don't you?"

"Some people think she's still alive."
 
Jacey was hedging.

He grinned suddenly.

"You've been talking to that senile old fool Ana, haven't you?
 
She

believes all that reincarnation rubbish that the Indians teach.
 
She

probably thinks Juanita has come back as a parrot, or something equally

ridiculous."

"She thinks Juanita was bored with her life here and ran away with a

lover," Jacey said.

Nicolas laughed derisively.

"He would have to have been a very rich lover to persuade Juanita to

leave Techtatuan.
 
Alfonso Marquez treated her far too leniently when

he was alive, and she inherited this villa and a sizeable portion of

his money when he died.
 
She would never have willingly left all this."

He smiled mockingly at Jacey.

"Like most women, she was far too fond of money and comfort."

"Am I included in that sweeping condemnation?"
 
Jacey asked.

"Why call it a condemnation?"
 
His smile was meant to challenge her.

"Women have their place in the order of things.
 
It's natural for them

to want to live a life of luxury, and natural for them to expect a man

to pay for it."
 
He was watching her closely.

"In return, of course, they have to be taught obedience.
 
To behave

themselves in the bedroom.

To please their man, and act out his fantasies for him.
 
That's far

more natural than wanting to wear a white coat and be a doctor."
 
For a

moment Jacey was speechless.
 
Nicolas smiled, with genuine humour this

time.

"However, as a patient I must say I preferred your professional touch

to that of Dr.
 
Draven.
 
I haven't forgotten how delightful your hands

felt when you examined me His put his empty whisky glass on the

balustrade.

"But you enjoy being thought sexy and desirable too, don't you, Dr.

Muldaire?
 
You enjoy men?"

"Some men," she said carefully.

Then like Peter Draven?"
 
He shook his head in mockery.

"Whatever did you see in that colourless Englishman?"

Although she was feeling angry with Peter, Jacey could not be disloyal;

she didn't intend to criticise him to Nicolas Schlemann.

"He's dedicated his entire life to helping people," she said.

"Well, so have I."
 
Nicolas took a step forward but she stood her

ground.
 
She was close enough now to feel the masculine warmth of his

body, and smell the very faint, sharp scent of cologne as he spoke.

"I'm responsible for most of the modernisation you see in Guachtal."

"And for turning it into a police state?"

He lounged back against the balustrade again.

"What an odd accusation.

I'm just a simple business man.
 
Generalissimo Hernandez controls the

army."

"And who controls the professional heavies who insulted me when I

arrived here?"

"I provided the security men for this party," Nicolas admitted.

"Which one insulted you?"

"The large one, on the gates."

He thought for a moment.

"That sounds like Marco.
 
What exactly did he say?"

"Nothing," she said.

"That's my point.
 
He ignored me.
 
He asked Peter if I was his

woman."

"Oh dear."
 
Nicolas grinned lazily.

"How very politically incorrect of him."

"Don't compound the insult by laughing at me," she snapped crossly.

"If you're going to let your pet goons loose on the general public, at

least teach them to be polite."

"Marco is useful," Nicolas said, 'but perhaps a little uncouth."
 
He

straightened up and stretched, and she was reminded again of his

prowling, feline strength.

"I can understand you not wanting to be Peter Draven's property."
 
One

step brought him close to her.

"But what about me?
 
Would you object to belonging to me?"

"I don't like the word "belong"," she said.

"I'm an independent, professional woman, remember?
 
I believe in

equality."

"At work, maybe," he agreed.

"I have no quarrel with that."
 
Another step forward.

"But that's not the kind of relationship I'm referring to."

Although she knew she should back away, instead she wanted to reach out

and touch him.
 
Trace her finger round the line of his jaw.
 
She found

herself wondering what his mouth would feel like pressed over hers.
 
Or

travelling downwards, to excite her body.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," she lied.

"Yes, you do," he said.

"I'm talking about sex.
 
And you're thinking about it."

She felt herself blushing.
 
Was she that transparent?

"Don't tell me I've embarrassed you, Dr.
 
Muldaire?"
 
He grinned

crookedly.

"An independent, professional woman like you?
 
You knew we were going

to end up together, didn't you?
 
You knew it when I first met you at

the hospital."

No, she thought, I didn't.
 
When you walked across to me with that

charming smile, and your hand outstretched, it reminded me of the way I

felt when I first saw Faisel.
 
That sudden, dangerous, unmistakable

physical thrill.

"Do you always assume that every woman you meet is going to fall for

you, Senor Schlemann?"
 
Jacey asked coolly.

"The ones I want usually do he said.
 
He stepped back, then reached out

and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders.
 
He began to massage her

flesh gently.

"And I want you, Dr.
 
Jacey Muldaire."

"Don't take me for granted," she warned.

She felt his grip tighten.

"But you like being dominated, don't you?"

His fingers dug into her flesh.

"You like strong men, and power turns you on.
 
Once the bedroom door

has closed you're quite happy to stop giving orders, and start taking

them.
 
Master and servant?
 
Master and slave?"
 
She was swaying as his

hands worked on the muscles of her shoulders.

"The idea excites you, doesn't it?"
 
His voice became softly

seductive.

"And luckily for you, that's just the way I like to play it, too. We'll

make an ideal couple.
 
I'm going to enjoy finding out exactly how far

you're willing to go.
 
How far I can push you.
 
Exactly what you'll do

to please me."

"You can't assume anything," she said unsteadily.

"You don't know a thing about me."

"I know enough," he said.

"You want me as much as I want you.
 
And what's more, I can prove it."

He let her go and stepped back, smiling his charming, crooked, and

utterly self-confident smile.

"Walk away from me, Dr.
 
Muldaire.
 
Walk away, and I promise I'll never

bother you again."
 
He paused.

"Even if you change your mind and beg me to.
 
Walk away from me.

Now."

She should take him at his word.
 
You're just a trophy to this man, she

told herself.
 
One more victory on his score sheet.
 
He knows you're

attracted to him and that gives him power.
 
He'll use that power

ruthlessly to get what he wants.
 
Just like Faisel, she thought

suddenly.
 
But this is different; my eyes are wide open now.
 
This

isn't a romance, and neither of us need to pretend that it is.
 
This is

almost a business arrangement.

Nicolas Schlemann wants what I want:

a no-strings affair, like a courtesan with a client.
 
The idea was

beginning to excite her.
 
And so was the possibility of finding out

exactly what kind of games he liked to play.