The Soldier's Rebel Lover

‘It leaves one wanting more. A great deal more.’ He checked his pocket watch and picked up his waistcoat. ‘Talking of appetites, I think it would be prudent if we both cleaned off all this rather incriminating ink before joining Consuela for dinner.’

‘Yes, of course. Dinner,’ Isabella said. But her thoughts were not of food.

Chapter Seven

‘I thought I might show you a little more of our beautiful countryside today,’ Isabella said, ‘since I think it would be unwise for me to take you to visit Estebe as Xavier requested. Your knowledge of wine is so sparse, he would be suspicious of you within a few minutes. If Xavier asks, we will need to concoct a story to explain why we—’

‘Is your brother due back today?’ Finlay interrupted.

‘No, but when he does return, we need to have a plausible explanation for not visiting Estebe. Xavier will be most displeased that I have disobeyed his direct instructions.’

‘I am not planning to be here when your brother returns.’ Finlay was not planning to be here beyond tomorrow, and he was not planning to leave alone, either, though it was clear that his plans and Isabella’s did not currently coincide.

Her face had fallen momentarily at his terse tone, but she recovered with a determined smile. ‘I did not think you would go so far as to place an order for Xavier’s precious Rioja that would not be fulfilled, but as he is not likely to be home for a few days yet, you do not have to rush off on his account.’

‘Isabella, it’s not your brother I’m worried about.’

‘No, but—you did not expect to find El Fantasma so quickly, did you? I mean, if you had not found me, or if I could not lead you to him, or if it turned out that I could, but it took some time to arrange—’ She broke off, looking flustered. ‘What I mean is, you must have anticipated having to spend a considerable amount of time in Spain searching for El Fantasma. Having achieved your objective with relative ease, why not reward yourself with a tiny hiatus from your duties as a soldier while the opportunity presents itself? You must admit, the Hermoso Romero estate is a beguiling place.’

She was blushing. She looked so enchanting, it was all Finlay could do to stop himself from leaning across the breakfast table to kiss her. Of course, he knew she was not indifferent to him, and he was certainly not indifferent to her, but he suspected that their mutual attraction was more to do with the heightened tension of the situation they found themselves in than anything else.

Still, he wished she hadn’t dangled further temptation in front of him. He took a sip of coffee and took another, unwanted, slice of cured ham. Señora Romero had not joined them this morning, leaving them to breakfast alone. There was something very appealing in looking at Isabella across the breakfast cups. She would be even more appealing if they were taking breakfast together in their bedchamber, her hair down, wearing a lacy gown and nothing else. He had always been a man who preferred to contemplate the forthcoming day in solitude, but...

What the devil was he thinking of? ‘It is indeed a beguiling place, but not as beguiling as one of its inhabitants. However,’ Finlay added quickly, ‘I’m here on a mission, not on holiday, and my objective is far from achieved.’ Ach! Now Isabella looked as if he’d slapped her. ‘I’ll tell you what,’ he added, softening his tone, ‘why don’t we ride out, like you suggest? We need to talk, but there’s no necessity for us to do it here. A good gallop and some fresh air would be most welcome.’

‘I would like that. I know some lovely spots hereabouts. But as for needing to talk, I’m afraid there is nothing to discuss, Finlay. We must agree to differ.’ She crossed her arms, looking mulish. ‘I am not in need of rescue. I told you...’

‘And I listened. Now it’s your turn to listen to me. No,’ he said, when she opened her mouth to protest again, ‘you’re not being fair. You’ve had your say, now it’s only right that you let me have mine.’

‘The world is not a fair place.’

‘Doesn’t El Fantasma advocate free speech for all and a fair hearing?’

She laughed, holding up her hands in surrender. ‘You use my own rhetoric against me! I call that very unfair, indeed. But all is fair in love and war, that is what you will say, no? I shall go and change. Meet me at the stables in half an hour.’

He caught her arm as she made for the door. ‘We’re not at war, Isabella.’

‘No.’

Their eyes met and held. Her mouth softened into a sensual curve. The urge to touch her, to kiss her, simply to hold her tightly against him was so strong, it almost overpowered him. ‘No,’ Finlay said, letting her go, ‘we are not at war.’

As to the other, he thought, as the door closed behind her, he would be a fool to contemplate it. And Major Finlay Urquhart had never been guilty of being a fool.

* * *