# Mistress Of His Revenge

Chantelle Shaw

Dressed in Delgado’s diamonds…No longer the Brazilian boy born to the streets, Cruz Delgado is the renowned owner of a diamond empire. But there is still one dent in his pride: aristocratic Sabrina Bancroft, the only woman ever to walk away from him.With Sabrina’s beloved home under threat, Cruz sees his chance for revenge – he will help Sabrina if she becomes his mistress! Having her at his beck and call, in his bed and wearing jewels from his own mine should satisfy him. But once he discovers why she left he’ll realise that of all the riches he’s hunted Sabrina is the most priceless…

‘I don’t think force will be necessary to persuade you to give me what I want,’ he murmured.

Sabrina’s stomach muscles clenched as his sensuous molten syrup voice tugged on her senses. Time seemed to be suspended and her breath was trapped in her lungs. Her eyes widened as she watched his dark head descend, and her heart gave a jolt when she realised that he was going to kiss her. He wouldn’t dare, she assured herself. But this was Cruz Delgado—a man who would dare to make a deal with the devil if he believed the odds were in his favour.

‘I warned you—I’ll scream.’ It was melodramatic, but she felt melodramatic! She gasped as he pulled her against him and she felt the heat from his body melting her bones.

He gave a wolfish smile. ‘Perhaps you will. I remember how you used to scream with pleasure and claw me with your sharp nails, gatinha.’

‘Cruz!’ In desperation she thumped his shoulder with her fist, but her blows had as much effect as a mosquito landing on a rhino’s hide.

‘You are so beautiful,’ Cruz said harshly.

He could not resist her, and he was shamed by his weakness. If he kissed her perhaps the heat blazing inside him would cool and he would be released from this mad desire that made his muscles grow taut and his heart pound. He clamped one arm around her waist and slid his other hand into her hair and up, to clasp her nape as his mouth swooped down and captured hers in a kiss that instantly engulfed Sabrina in a white-hot flame.

Bought by the Brazilian

Claimed by passion!

Cruz Delgado and Diego Cazorra—two men brought up in Brazil’s favelas—have literally dragged themselves from dirt to a diamond empire.

But having the world at their feet and dripping with their jewels is not enough. Now they will have their revenge against the women who walked away.

It’s time for Cruz and Diego to claim what’s theirs … and for both of these women to be

Bought by the Brazilian!

Read Cruz and Sabrina’s story:

Mistress of His Revenge

Read Diego and Clare’s story:

Master of Her Innocence

Mistress of His Revenge

Chantelle Shaw

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHANTELLE SHAW lives on the Kent coast and thinks up her stories while walking on the beach. She has been married for over thirty years and has six children. Her love affair with reading and writing Harlequin Mills & Boon began as a teenager, and her first book was published in 2006. She likes strong-willed, slightly unusual characters. Chantelle also loves gardening, walking and wine!

Contents

Cover

Introduction

Bought by the Brazilian

Title Page

About the Author

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Extract

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE HONOURABLE HUGO FFAULKS—with two Fs—was drunk and being sick into a vase. Not just any vase, Sabrina noted, her lips tightening with annoyance. The vase was a fine example of early eighteenth-century English porcelain and had been valued at fifteen hundred pounds by an auction house that had recently catalogued the antiques at Eversleigh Hall.

Compared to the value of the hall’s art collection, which included two Gainsboroughs and a portrait by Joshua Reynolds, fifteen hundred pounds was not a vast sum, but in Sabrina’s current financial crisis she needed every penny she could lay her hands on and selling the vase would at least allow her to pay the staff’s wages and the farrier’s bill.

A frown crossed her smooth brow. If only horses did not need shoeing every six weeks. The cost of the farrier, plus vet’s bills, feed and hay meant that Monty was becoming an expense she simply could not justify. She had spoken to a reputable horse dealer who had assured her that she should get a good price for a seven-year-old thoroughbred, but the thought of selling Monty was unbearable.

She turned her attention to Hugo, who was now leaning on one of the other party guests and trying to stagger in the direction of the bar.

‘Take him to the kitchen and get some black coffee into him,’ Sabrina instructed Hugo’s friend. She wished she could phone Brigadier Ffaulks and ask him to come and collect his son, but Hugo’s parents had paid her a sizeable fee to organise a twenty-first birthday party at Eversleigh Hall. Hugo and fifty of his friends had arrived the previous evening and would be staying at the hall for the weekend. Tomorrow after breakfast—if any of them could face a full English breakfast—they would be able to enjoy clay-pigeon shooting on the estate and fishing in the private lake.

Opening up Eversleigh Hall for weddings and parties was the only way that Sabrina could afford the huge running costs of the estate until her father returned. If he ever returned. She quickly pushed her fears about the earl to the back of her mind with the rest of her worries and smiled at the elderly butler who was walking stiffly across the drawing room.

‘I’d better fetch a mop and clear up the mess, Miss Sabrina.’

‘I’ll do it, John. I don’t expect you to clear up after my guests.’ She could not disguise the rueful note in her voice. The butler was well aware that she hated seeing Eversleigh Hall being treated carelessly by the likes of Hugo and his friends, who seemed to think that having money, and in some cases aristocratic titles, gave them the right to behave like animals. And that was an insult to animals, Sabrina thought when she caught sight of a female guest lighting up a cigarette.

‘How many times must I repeat the “no smoking in the house” rule?’ she muttered.

‘I’ll escort the young lady out to the garden,’ John murmured. ‘You have a visitor, Miss Sabrina. A Mr Delgado arrived a few minutes ago.’

She stiffened. ‘Delgado—are you sure that was the name he gave?’

The butler looked affronted. ‘Quite sure. I would hazard that he is a foreign gentleman. He said he wishes to discuss Earl Bancroft.’

‘My father!’ Sabrina’s heart missed another beat. She took a deep breath and groped for her common sense. Just because the unexpected visitor’s name was Delgado did not automatically mean that it was Cruz. In fact the likelihood was zero, she reassured herself. It was ten years since she had last seen him. The date their relationship had ended and the date a week earlier when she had suffered a miscarriage and lost their baby were ingrained on her memory. Every year, she found April a poignant month, with lambs in the fields and birds busy building nests, the countryside bursting with new life while she quietly mourned her child who had never lived in the world.

‘I asked Mr Delgado to wait in the library.’

‘Thank you, John.’ Sabrina forced her mind away from painful memories. As she walked across the entrance hall, past the portraits of her illustrious ancestors, she tried to mentally compose herself. It was likely that the mystery visitor was a journalist sniffing around for information about Earl Bancroft. Or perhaps Delgado was one of her father’s creditors—heaven knew there were enough of them. But in either case she was unable to help.

She had no idea where her father was, and since he had been officially declared a missing person his bank accounts had been frozen. Sabrina thought of the mounting pile of bills that arrived at Eversleigh Hall daily. Since the earl’s disappearance she had used all of her savings to pay for the upkeep of the house, but if her father did not return soon there was a strong possibility that she would be forced to sell her family’s ancestral home.

A week earlier in Brazil

‘We have to face the facts, Cruz. Old Betsy is finished. She’s given us the last of her diamonds and there’s no point wasting any more of our time and money on her.’

Cruz Delgado fixed his olive-green eyes on his friend and business partner, Diego Cazorra. ‘I’m convinced that Old Betsy hasn’t revealed all her secrets,’ he said with amusement in his voice. He could not remember now if it had been him or Diego who had christened the diamond mine they had bought as a joint venture six years ago Old Betsy, but the name had stuck.

‘Your belief that there could be deposits of diamonds deeper underground is founded purely on speculation fuelled by rumour and the drunken ramblings of an old miner.’ Diego lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the blazing Brazilian sun and glanced around the two-thousand-acre mine site.

The ochre-coloured earth was baked as hard as clay and lorry tyre marks criss-crossed the dusty ground. Directly above the mineshaft stood the tall metal structure of the head frame, looking like a bizarre piece of modern art, and next to it were the huge winding drums used to operate the hoist that transported men and machinery down into the mine. In the distance, the glint of silver denoted the river, and beyond it was the dense green rainforest. An alluvial processing plant stretched along one river bank, its purpose to recover diamonds found in sediment sifted from the river bed. But the best diamonds, those of gem quality and high carat weight, were hidden beneath the earth’s surface and could only be retrieved by men and machinery tunnelling deep underground.

‘I believe Jose’s story of the existence of another mine, or at least an extension of the original mine,’ Cruz said. ‘It confirms what my father told me before he died, that Earl Bancroft had discovered some historic drawings of tunnels that run far deeper than we currently operate.’

Cruz removed his hat and swept his sweat-damp hair back from his brow. Like Diego, he was over six feet tall and his muscular physique was the result of years of hard physical labour working in the mining industry. Both men were deeply tanned, but Cruz’s hair was black while Diego’s was dirty blond—evidence that his father had been a European, although that was all Diego knew about the man who had seduced his mother and abandoned her when she had fallen pregnant.

Cruz and Diego had been friends since they were boys growing up in a notorious favela—a slum in Belo Horizonte, the largest city in the state of Minas Gerais. When Cruz’s father had moved his family north to the town of Montes Claros to find work in a diamond mine, Cruz had persuaded Diego to join them at a mine owned by an English earl. They had been excited by the idea of making their fortunes but it had been many years before they had struck lucky and too late for Cruz’s father.

‘The geological sampling and magnetotelluric surveys we commissioned showed up nothing of interest,’ Diego pointed out. ‘Do you really believe a story about an abandoned mine over modern scientific surveying techniques?’

‘I believe what my father told me with his dying breath.’ Cruz’s jaw hardened. ‘When Papai discovered the Estrela Vermelha, Earl Bancroft persuaded him that there could be other rare red diamonds. My father said the earl showed him and the old miner Jose a map of a forgotten section of the mine, which had tunnels running deeper than a thousand metres.’

‘But Earl Bancroft sold the mine soon after your father died following the accident. If there had been a map, Bancroft should have given it to the prospector who bought the mine from him. When we raised the money to buy Old Betsy from the prospector six years ago, you asked him about an old map but he denied any knowledge of one.’

Cruz shrugged. ‘So maybe the earl kept the map a secret from the prospector. It wouldn’t surprise me. I remember Henry Bancroft was a wily fox who looked after his own interests at the expense of the men he employed. The roof fall was a direct result of Bancroft’s cost cutting and failure to adhere to safety procedures. When he sent my father into an area of the mine that he knew to be dangerous he effectively signed Papai’s death warrant.’

Bitterness swept through Cruz as he thought of the mining accident that had claimed his father’s life. Ten years ago Vitor Delgado had been buried beneath tons of rock, but Cruz remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. Clawing at the rubble of the collapsed mine roof with his bare hands, choking on the thick dust as he had desperately tried to reach his father. It had been two days before they had brought Vitor to the surface—alive, but so severely injured that he had died from internal bleeding a few hours later.

Cruz closed his eyes and the years fell away. He was back in a hospital room, with the smell of disinfectant and the beep of the machine that was monitoring his father’s failing heartbeat. His mother and sisters were sobbing.

‘Don’t try to speak, Papai. You need all your strength to get better.’

He had refused to believe Vitor would not recover even though the doctor had murmured that there was no hope. Cruz had put his face close to his father’s and struggled to understand the injured man’s incoherent mutterings.

‘Earl Bancroft showed me a map of tunnels dug many years ago. He believes there are red diamonds as big as the one I found deeper underground. Ask him, Cruz...ask him about the map...’

Even as he was dying Vitor had been obsessed with diamonds. Amongst miners it was known as diamond fever—the desperate lengths men would go to in their quest for the glittering gemstones that could make them rich.

For Cruz and Diego the dream had come true.

After his father died Cruz had become responsible for his mother and young sisters. Mining was the only job he knew and he worked in a coal mine where the filth and sweat and danger were at least repaid with good wages, which allowed him to pay for college evening classes.

Three years later, armed with a business degree, he got a job with a private bank and quickly proved his brilliance in the boardroom. Other people were surprised by his ruthless determination to succeed but they hadn’t seen the things Cruz had witnessed in the favela: the violence of the drug gangs, the drive-by shootings. They had never felt hunger in their bellies, or fear, and they had no idea that Cruz sought success and money because he knew what it was like to have nothing.

He was offered a position on the bank’s board of directors and bought his mother and sisters a house in an affluent part of the city. Cruz was on his way up and his family would never be hungry again. But he wanted more. He didn’t want to work for the bank—he wanted to be one of its millionaire clients.

He remembered the Estrela Vermelha—the Red Star diamond his father had found in the Montes Claros mine. The diamond had an estimated value of several million dollars, but it had belonged to Earl Bancroft, not to Vitor. It was mine owners who got rich, not the men who crawled through tunnels and risked their lives laying explosives to break through solid rock. So Cruz took the biggest gamble of his life and he and Diego bought the mine that had once belonged to Earl Bancroft. The prospector who sold it to them thought they were crazy—he hadn’t found diamonds of any significant value in the mine—but he understood that diamond fever could turn sane men mad.

Six months later, kimberlite rock containing diamonds estimated to be worth something in the region of four hundred million dollars was discovered in Old Betsy. Cruz became the most valued client of the bank where he had once worked, and he established a prestigious jewellery company, Delgado Diamonds. Diego invested in a gold mine as well as various other business ventures, but both men remembered what it was like to be poor and hungry and they gave financial support to a charity set up to help Brazil’s street children.

‘If Earl Bancroft had really believed there was a deeper mine, why would he have sold up? Why didn’t he open up the tunnels shown on the map?’ Diego demanded.

‘Perhaps he kept the map as a form of insurance policy in case he needed money in the future. He knew that whoever owned the mine would be likely to pay a fortune for a map of a second mine with the potential of containing more diamonds.’

Diego frowned. ‘Are you suggesting we should offer to buy the map from the earl?’

‘The hell I am,’ Cruz growled. ‘Legally the map, if it exists—and I believe it does—belongs to us. Any documents pertaining to the mine are the property of whoever owns it. Bancroft should have given the map to the prospector, and in turn it should have come to us when we became the new owners of the mine.

‘For the past five and a half years we have mined good quality diamonds, but now the supply is virtually exhausted. You’re right—to continue mining Old Betsy makes no economic sense. But if there is a second mine then I want what is rightfully ours, and I intend to go to Eversleigh Hall in England and demand that Earl Bancroft hands over the map.’

Diego gave Cruz a speculative look. ‘It’s possible you’ll meet Sabrina at Eversleigh Hall. How would you feel about seeing her again?’

Cruz gave a short laugh. ‘After ten years I might not even recognise her. She was eighteen when she came to Brazil. I imagine she is married by now—no doubt to a duke or lord, or some other peer of the realm with an aristocratic pedigree as long as her own. The honourable Lady Sabrina made it clear that she didn’t want a commoner for a husband,’ he said sardonically.

Sabrina had definitely not wanted to marry a lowly miner who scraped a living crawling through tunnels beneath the ground like a worm, Cruz brooded. She had not even wanted their child—her lack of emotion after she had suffered a miscarriage proved that she had regarded their affair and her subsequent pregnancy as a mistake.

He recalled the first time he had set eyes on Sabrina Bancroft. She had arrived from England to visit her father, and Cruz, walking out of the mining office next to the earl’s ranch house, had been arrested by the sight of her alighting from a taxi.

He had never seen a woman like her before, certainly not in the favela. With her pale, almost translucent skin and light blonde hair, she had looked ethereal, untouchable. Cruz had stared down at his blackened hands and felt conscious of the sweat stains on his shirt. But Lady Sabrina had barely glanced at him before she had turned her elegant head away. It had been as if he did not exist, as if he was so far beneath her that he simply did not register on her radar. As he’d watched her poised figure walk into the house, a hot flood of desire had swept through Cruz and he had vowed he would make the English rose notice him.

Cruz’s mouth tightened into a hard line. He had made a fool of himself over Sabrina, but in his defence he had been far less cynical at twenty-four than he was a decade later. In the intervening years when he had rapidly ascended the world’s rich list he had learned the games people played and it amused him that he could take his pick of any of the women who would once have dismissed him as worthless.

Sabrina had rejected him when he’d had nothing to offer her but his heart. It would be interesting to see her reaction to him now that he could afford to buy her precious Eversleigh Hall. Although Cruz knew it was highly unlikely that the Bancrofts’ ancestral home would ever come onto the market. Sabrina had once explained that the stately house and surrounding estate in Surrey had been owned by her family for more than five hundred years, passed down through the generations from father to son. Her brother would one day inherit the house and the earldom.

The implication was that there were some things money could not buy, but Cruz did not believe that. In his experience everything had a price. He fully expected that Earl Bancroft would be willing to sell him the map of the secret mine if he offered enough money.

As for the possibility that he would meet Sabrina again, Cruz shrugged. He had not thought about her for years and he wasn’t interested in the past. All he cared about was the future and claiming the map of the diamond mine that legally and morally belonged to him.

CHAPTER TWO

THROUGH THE LIBRARY window at Eversleigh Hall Cruz could see a half-naked woman dancing in the fish pond. Her gyrating body was illuminated by the lights blazing from every window in the house. Shouts of encouragement came from the group of young men standing on the lawn, swigging champagne from a bottle, before one of them jumped into the water and grabbed hold of the woman while his friends called out obscene suggestions.

Classy, Cruz thought sardonically. He had seen similar behaviour in the favela where he had spent most of his childhood, although the putas—the hookers—had been drunk on beer rather than Bollinger. For all the English aristocracy’s wealth and privilege and their education at the finest schools, some of them were no more refined than the slum-dwellers from the poorest areas of Brazil.

His lip curled as he remembered an incident that had occurred at a high-society party he had attended in London a few days ago. The hosts, Lord and Lady Porchester, were ‘old money’ but in recent years crippling death duties and some diabolical business decisions had left the family fortune dwindling and they were desperately seeking investors to save their manufacturing company.

Cruz had been under no illusions about why he was an honoured guest. Porchester had sucked up to him all evening, but when Cruz had stepped outside onto the terrace for some fresh air he had been hidden in the shadows and had overheard his host discussing him with another guest.

‘Delgado’s a self-made millionaire from South America. Apparently he bought a diamond mine and struck lucky. Of course you can always pick out the nouveau riche by their lack of breeding.’

The two men had laughed and Cruz had gritted his teeth and reminded himself that he would have the last laugh because money was money at the end of the day, and Porchester needed a loan. But Lord Porchester’s meaning had been clear. It did not matter how many millions Cruz had in the bank, he would never be accepted by the social elite. Not that he gave a damn about other people’s opinion of him, Cruz brooded. But he was determined to establish Delgado Diamonds as one of Europe’s most exclusive jewellers and being regarded as an outsider by the aristocracy was a disadvantage.

Perhaps he should have accepted Porchester’s daughter’s unsubtle hints that she hoped he would take her to bed, he mused. If he was seen to be dating a lord’s daughter it could open doors for him. Business relied on networking and making useful contacts. Unfortunately, the half an hour he had spent listening to Lisette Porchester gossiping about her ‘Chelsea Set’ friends had bored him rigid.

But there were plenty of other upper-class women he could choose from. Cruz knew it was not just his millionaire status that the opposite sex found attractive. Women were drawn to the sensual promise in his eyes and the athleticism of his muscular body. They called him a stud and he was happy to prove it. Since he was a youth, women had thrown themselves at him. Maybe that was why he found the cut and thrust of business so exciting—there was an element of risk and the possibility of failure that was never present in his numerous sex-without-strings affairs.

He turned away from the window, bored by the scene of drunken debauchery taking place on the lawn, and glanced around the library. Eversleigh Hall deserved its reputation as one of England’s finest stately homes. From the outside the house was a gracious manor house, predominantly Georgian in style, although some of the original sixteenth-century building still remained. Inside, the impressive entrance hall and the library had a rather faded elegance about them—as if the house had been trapped in a time warp when grand country houses were run by dozens of staff.

The only member of staff Cruz had seen was the elderly butler who had admitted him into the house. He frowned. Had he imagined an odd expression had crossed the butler’s face when he’d asked to see Earl Bancroft?

He wondered why the earl was hosting a party for guests who seemed to be barely out of high school. Perhaps the party was for Sabrina’s younger brother, he mused. Tristan Bancroft must be in his early twenties now. Ten years ago Sabrina had used the excuse that she wanted to return to Eversleigh Hall because her kid brother needed her. The real reason, Cruz knew, was because she’d felt trapped in Brazil when she had been expecting his child. After she’d lost the baby she had rushed back to England and the privileged lifestyle she was used to.

His mind snapped back to the present as he noticed the door handle turn, and his jaw hardened at the prospect of meeting Earl Bancroft—the man he held responsible for his father’s death.

The door opened and Cruz stiffened.

* * *

‘It is you.’ Shock stole Sabrina’s breath and her voice emerged as a thread of sound. Cruz was instantly recognisable and yet he looked different from the man she had known ten years ago. Of course he was older, and the boyishly handsome features she remembered were harder, his face leaner, with slashing cheekbones and a chiselled jaw that gave him an uncompromising air of power and authority combined with devastating sensuality.

The curve of his lips was achingly familiar and memories of the feel of his mouth on hers flooded back. How could she remember his kiss so vividly after all this time? she wondered, dismayed by her reaction to him. She unconsciously flicked her tongue across her lower lip and saw his eyes narrow on the betraying gesture.

Cruz had always been able to decimate her equilibrium with one glittering glance from his olive-green eyes, Sabrina thought ruefully. She recalled the first time she had seen him in Brazil. Even as a young man, his body had been honed and muscular from working in the diamond mine. His jeans and shirt had been filthy, and when he’d taken his hat off, she had noticed that his black hair curling onto his brow was damp with sweat.

She had never met a man so overwhelmingly male before. The sheltered life she had led at Eversleigh Hall and at an all-girls boarding school had not prepared her for Cruz’s smouldering sensuality. She’d taken one look at him and scorching heat had swept through her body. Disconcerted by her reaction, she had behaved with an uncharacteristic lack of manners and ignored him. But a few days later she had met him while she was out walking and he had told her that his name was Cruz Delgado before he’d pulled her into his arms and kissed her with a blazing passion that had set the pattern of their relationship.

For a moment Sabrina felt like a shy, unworldly eighteen-year-old again and she was tempted to run out of the library away from Cruz’s brooding stare. She was twenty-eight, had a PhD and was highly regarded in her field of expertise in antique furniture restoration, she reminded herself. His unexpected appearance at Eversleigh Hall was undeniably a shock, but she assured herself that she was immune to his simmering sexual chemistry.

‘Why are you here?’

She was thankful her voice sounded normal. But seeing him again brought back memories of her miscarriage just four and a half months into her pregnancy. She wondered if Cruz ever imagined what their son would be like if her pregnancy had gone to term. Did he sometimes picture, as she did, a strong-jawed, dark-haired boy with his father’s green eyes, or perhaps his mother’s grey ones? The raw pain that had torn her apart in the weeks and months after the miscarriage had faded with time, but there would always be a lingering ache in her heart for the child she had lost.

‘I need to speak to your father.’

Fool, Sabrina berated herself, remembering that the butler had said Cruz had asked to see Earl Bancroft. The reason for his visit had nothing to do with her. He hadn’t cared about her ten years ago. The only reason he had asked her to marry him was because he had wanted his child. But having witnessed her parents’ disastrous marriage, Sabrina had been wary of making such a commitment. She had been sure Cruz did not love her and so she had turned him down.

Cruz did not look as though he was besieged by memories of the past. He was dressed in an impeccably tailored grey suit that moulded the lean lines of his body, and a white shirt that contrasted with his darkly tanned face. He looked the phenomenally successful multimillionaire businessman that she had read about in both the financial pages and the gossip columns of the newspapers. Yet beneath his air of suave sophistication she sensed there was still a wild, untameable quality about Cruz Delgado that had so intrigued her when they had been lovers.

Once again she felt the urge to flee from the library but she forced herself to walk into the room, closing the door behind her with a decisive click.

Cruz was standing behind the desk, his hawk-like features set in an arrogant expression as if he owned Eversleigh Hall, damn him. A memory slid into her mind of when she had been a little girl called into her father’s study to explain some misdemeanour. Earl Bancroft had not been a particularly strict parent, more an uninterested one. He’d spent most of his time abroad and when Sabrina was a child her father had been a stranger who upset her mother and created a fraught tension in the house that disappeared when he went away again.

Lifting her chin, Sabrina walked around the desk to where Cruz was standing by the window, but she regretted her actions when she realised how close she was to him. She was sure it was not by accident that he’d moved his position slightly so that she was trapped between his powerful body and the desk. The musk of his sandalwood cologne was instantly familiar and she recognised the brand of aftershave she had given him as a present soon after she had given him her virginity. Had he deliberately worn that particular brand tonight to torment her?

Unwilling to meet his gaze, she glanced towards the window and made a choked sound when she saw what appeared to be a group orgy taking place on the lawn. ‘For heaven’s sake!’ she muttered as she quickly twitched the curtains shut.

‘Your friends are clearly enjoying themselves,’ Cruz drawled.

‘They’re not my friends.’ Sabrina could feel her face burning. She wasn’t a prude but the behaviour going on—not to mention the amount of clothes coming off—in the garden was unacceptable.

‘Are they your brother’s friends?’ Cruz was curious. ‘Is it Tristan’s party?’

‘Tristan is away at university.’ Thankfully her brother was nothing like Hugo Ffaulk and his ilk, Sabrina thought to herself. Tris knew that to fulfil his ambition of being an airline pilot he had to gain a first-class degree. Of course there was also the little matter of the one hundred thousand pounds required for the pilot training. The merry-go-round of worries inside her head did another circuit. Somehow, she vowed, she would find the money for her brother to train for the career that he had dreamed of since he was a small boy.

‘So, are those people your father’s guests?’

Sabrina had no intention of telling Cruz that giving parties at Eversleigh Hall was a business venture. No one apart from her and the bank manager knew of the financial catastrophe that was looming over Eversleigh, and so far she had managed to keep the news that Earl Bancroft was missing out of the media.

‘They are my guests, who I invited to my party,’ she said stiffly. ‘Some of them are just a little over-exuberant, that’s all.’

Cruz gave her a sardonic look. ‘I’ve heard gossip on the London social scene about the wild parties you throw at Eversleigh Hall. What does Earl Bancroft think about his stately home being overrun by upper-class yobs?’

‘My father isn’t here. He’s away on a trip and I don’t know when he’ll be back. I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.’ She tried to step past him and gave a startled cry when he caught hold of her arm.

‘That’s it?’ Cruz growled. ‘I see you haven’t changed in the past ten years, gatinha. You still think you can dismiss me as if I am dirt beneath your shoe.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ She tried to jerk her arm out of his grip. ‘And don’t call me that. I’m not your kitten.’ Hearing him use the affectionate name he had called her when they had been lovers, in a sarcastic tone, hurt more than it had any right to.

His gravelly, sexy accent brought her skin out in goose bumps. She wanted to stop staring at him but she could not tear her eyes from the sculpted planes of his face and his sensual mouth. ‘I never treated you like dirt,’ she muttered, startled by the accusation. Surely she had made it embarrassingly obvious ten years ago that she’d worshipped the ground he walked on?

‘The first time we saw each other you put your nose in the air and ignored me.’

She gave a shaky laugh. ‘I was eighteen and painfully naïve. The nuns who taught at St Ursula’s College for Ladies never explained about handsome men who could make a girl feel...’ She broke off, flushing as Cruz’s gaze narrowed on her face.

‘Feel...what?’ he demanded. Sabrina recognised the predatory gleam in his eyes and she instinctively backed away from him until her spine was jammed against the desk.

‘You know how you made me feel.’ She silently cursed the huskiness in her voice. ‘And I didn’t ignore you for long. You made sure of that.’

He’d had her in his bed within a week of her arrival in Brazil. Memories assailed her of blistering hot days when they’d had blisteringly exciting sex in the shade of the rubber trees, and sultry, steamy nights when Cruz had climbed up to her balcony at the ranch house and they’d made love beneath the stars.

The rasp of Cruz’s breath warned her that he was also remembering their scorching passion. But sex was all they had shared, Sabrina thought. Their response to each other ten years ago had simply been a chemical reaction. Disturbingly, the mysterious alchemy of sexual attraction was at work again now. She could see it in the way his olive-green eyes had darkened so that they were almost black.

Her spine would be bruised from where she was pressing against the desk. She searched her mind for something to say to break the simmering tension in the room. ‘Why do you want to see my father?’

‘I believe he has something that belongs to me, and I want what is mine.’

* * *

Cruz stared at the stunning diamond pendant Sabrina was wearing around her neck. The Estrela Vermelha—the Red Star—was one of the largest red diamonds ever to have been found in Brazil. Cruz knew that diamonds could occur in a variety of colours, with red being the rarest. When his father had found the gem, the uncut, unpolished stone had not looked as though it was worth a fortune.

Earl Bancroft had had the stone triangular-cut, or trilliant-cut as it was known to gemologists. The red diamond had been set in a border of white diamonds and the contrast between the red and white sparkling gems was truly breathtaking. The pendant had never been for sale, but conservative estimates suggested it was worth well over a million pounds.

When Sabrina had entered the library Cruz had been so fixated on her that he had barely noticed the Estrela Vermelha, he acknowledged grimly. Her ruby-red dress was a perfect match for the red diamond nestling between her breasts. The silk jersey dress clung to every dip and curve of her slender figure and when she walked, the side split in the skirt parted to reveal one long, lissom leg.

The dress was overtly sexy, and with her pale blonde hair tumbling in silky, glossy waves around her shoulders Sabrina looked like every red-blooded male’s fantasy, yet she still retained an air of elegance and refinement that spoke of her aristocratic bloodline.

A haze of jealousy clouded Cruz’s mind as he wondered who Sabrina had dressed like a vamp for. He glanced down at her left hand and saw that it was ringless. So, it was likely that she was unmarried. Not that he gave a damn, he assured himself. Had she chosen to wear the scarlet dress to impress a lover? A vision sprang into his mind of Sabrina in the arms of another man. Why the hell did that make his blood boil? he asked himself impatiently.

He had been her first lover but he was damned sure he hadn’t been her last—not when she had the body of Venus and a luscious mouth that simply begged to be kissed. Her lips were coated in a scarlet gloss that emphasised their sensual shape and her grey eyes were enhanced by a smoky shadow on her eyelids.

Cruz visualised the innocent girl he had known a decade ago. Sabrina had been an exceptionally pretty teenager, but now she was a stunningly beautiful woman, entirely aware of her sensuality and with the self-confidence to wear clothes that showed off her exquisite figure.

It was still there. He had not seen her for ten years, but one look was all it had taken to make him realise that he had never desired any woman as much as Sabrina Bancroft. Thinking of her family name reminded him of why he had come to Eversleigh and the hatred he felt for Earl Bancroft.

He reached out his hand and touched the Estrela Vermelha. The jewel was as cold and hard as his anger as he remembered his father’s excitement when Vitor had discovered the rare diamond.

‘It’s likely that there are more red diamonds in the part of the mine where I found the first one. If I find more, Earl Bancroft has promised I will receive a share of their value.’

‘Don’t go back there, Papai,’ Cruz had pleaded with his father. ‘That part of the mine is dangerous. Some of the miners say that the roof supports aren’t strong enough.’

But Vitor had ignored him. ‘I have to go back.’

The earl had sent Vitor to search for more diamonds and had sent him to his death. Cruz still had nightmares about when he’d heard the incredible roaring noise of the mine roof collapsing as tons of rock had crashed down on his father and buried him alive.

He snatched his hand away from the Estrela Vermelha. ‘Red is a fitting colour for a diamond which is stained with my father’s blood.’

A shiver ran through Sabrina. She couldn’t explain why she had never liked the Red Star diamond even though she admired its flawless beauty. The only reason she had worn it tonight was because she had wanted to impress the party guests. People booked parties at Eversleigh Hall because they liked the grandeur and history of the stately home, and they had no idea that, short of a miracle, the hall might soon have to be sold and would no longer be the ancestral home of the Bancroft family.

The dark red diamond was the colour of blood, but Cruz’s words did not make any sense to Sabrina. ‘What do you mean? What does your father have to do with the Red Star?’

‘He found it, and it was his right to claim part of the value of the diamond. But he died before he received his percentage share. My father was killed doing your father’s dirty work,’ Cruz said harshly. ‘Earl Bancroft sent him into the mine to search for more red diamonds. Your father has Vitor’s blood on his hands and I have come to Eversleigh to demand compensation for my father’s life.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘I WANT YOU to leave.’

Sabrina whirled away from Cruz and faced him across the desk, breathing hard as she struggled to control her temper. ‘How dare you turn up at Eversleigh uninvited and make a ridiculous accusation against my father, who isn’t even here to defend himself?’

‘He couldn’t defend himself against the truth.’ Cruz welcomed his anger as a distraction from the infuriating knowledge that when Sabrina had squeezed past him, her breasts had brushed against his chest and his body had reacted with humiliating predictability. His eyes were drawn to the low-cut neckline of her dress and the jerky rise and fall of her breasts. He pictured her naked beneath him, the erotic contrast of her milky pale body against his dark bronze skin, and he remembered her soft, kitten-like cries in the throes of orgasm.

Inferno! It was two months since he had dumped his last mistress and clearly he had gone too long without sex, he thought with savage self-derision. The purpose of his visit was to persuade Earl Bancroft to hand over the map of the abandoned mine, but all he could think of was how much he wanted to bend Sabrina over the desk and push her dress up to her waist, baring her silken thighs so that he could...

Ruthlessly he controlled his imagination but he could not control the painful throb of desire in his groin as he tried to focus on what she was saying.

‘I didn’t know your father had died.’ She hesitated. ‘I’m sorry... I know how close you were to him. But I don’t believe my father was responsible. How could he have had anything to do with Vitor’s death?’

‘When my father found the Estrela Vermelha, the earl sent him back to an area of the mine that he knew was unsafe to look for more diamonds.’ Cruz’s jaw hardened. ‘Don’t pretend you didn’t know. Bancroft must have told you about the accident at the mine even if he failed to admit his culpability for what happened.’

‘My father didn’t confide in me,’ Sabrina admitted. ‘We’ve never been close. I grew up at Eversleigh, but my father had inherited land and the diamond mine in Brazil from an uncle and he spent months at a time abroad. I visited him when I was eighteen, which is when I met you, but when I came back to England I had little contact with him.’

She fell silent, remembering the bleakest period of her life when she had hidden away at Eversleigh like a wounded animal. There had been no one she could talk to about the miscarriage. Four years earlier, when she had been fourteen, her mother had walked out of her marriage to Earl Bancroft and abandoned her children for her lover, and Sabrina had learned a valuable lesson—that she could not trust anyone and she had to rely on herself.

When she’d fallen pregnant by Cruz in Brazil she had told her father about her pregnancy. Typically he had said little then, or later, when she’d informed him that she had lost the baby. His only comment had been that he thought she had made the right decision to return to England and take up the university place she had deferred.

The earl had paid an unexpected visit to Eversleigh Hall during the summer ten years ago, Sabrina suddenly recalled. Her father had been in a strange mood and even more uncommunicative than usual, but he had made the surprising announcement that he intended to sell his diamond mine. He’d made no mention of Vitor Delgado’s fatal accident, or of Cruz, and Sabrina’s pride had refused to allow her to ask about him.

She had spent her first weeks back at Eversleigh hoping that Cruz would come after her, but as time went by she had been forced to accept that he wasn’t coming and he did not care about her. Now she’d learned that he had suffered a terrible tragedy soon after she had returned home. Following his father’s death his focus would understandably have been on taking care of his mother and much younger twin sisters.

She studied his face and noticed the fine lines around his eyes and deep grooves on either side of his mouth that had not been there ten years ago. He had idolised his father and would have felt Vitor’s loss deeply. She felt a faint tug on her heart. ‘When did the accident at the mine happen?’

‘Three weeks after you had left me and returned to England. It was the worst time of my life. First you lost our baby and then I lost my father.’

Sabrina stiffened. ‘An estimated one in seven pregnancies ends in miscarriage,’ she said huskily, repeating what numerous medical experts had told her when she had sought an answer as to why she had lost her baby. ‘We were unlucky.’

‘Perhaps it was simply bad luck.’ Cruz’s tone was devoid of any emotion, but Sabrina was convinced she had heard criticism in his voice. She curled her hands into tight balls until her fingernails cut into her palms.

‘Riding my horse did not cause me to miscarry,’ she said in a low tone. ‘I was seventeen weeks into my pregnancy and beyond the risk period of the first three months. The doctor said I was not to blame.’ But she had always blamed herself, she acknowledged bleakly, and she had suspected that Cruz thought she’d been irresponsible to have gone riding.

‘If you’d had your way, you would have wrapped me in cotton wool for nine months,’ she burst out.

His over-the-top concern had been for the baby, not for her. Every day, when Cruz had gone to work at the mine he had left her under the watchful and disapproving eyes of his mother. Sabrina had felt lonely and bored in Brazil. She’d been delighted at her three-month scan when the doctor had said that her pregnancy was progressing well and there was no reason why she should not do the things she normally did. She had thought it would be safe to take her horse for a gentle ride, aware that her mother had ridden during both of her pregnancies.

Cruz’s chiselled features were impassive. ‘There is no point in dragging up the past.’

His harsh voice jerked Sabrina from her painful memories. Her long lashes swept down, but not before Cruz glimpsed raw emotion in her grey eyes that shocked him. Ten years ago her lack of emotion after the miscarriage had made him realise that she had not wanted their child, and her hurried departure from Brazil had proved that she did not have any feelings for him.

His jaw hardened and he told himself he must have imagined the pained expression in her eyes. ‘You said that the earl is away, but I need to speak to him urgently. I assume you keep in contact with him by phone or email?’

She shook her head. ‘All I know is that he is probably in Africa. He has investments in a couple of mines there, and he often takes trips into remote areas to investigate new mining opportunities.’

Everything she had said was true, Sabrina assured herself. Her father often went abroad on what he called his adventures. But he had never stayed out of contact for this long. She had last spoken to Earl Bancroft when he had called her from a town somewhere in Guinea, but, after eighteen months when nothing had been seen or heard of him, Sabrina was seriously concerned for her father’s safety.

‘I’m afraid my father is incommunicado at the moment,’ she murmured.

There was something odd about the situation, Cruz mused. Something Sabrina wasn’t telling him. With difficulty he restrained his impatience.

‘Well, if I can’t talk to Earl Bancroft perhaps you will be able to help me. I believe your father has some information about the Montes Claros diamond mine. Before my father died, the earl showed Vitor a map of an abandoned section of the mine. The map is the legal property of the mine owner. You might be aware that I bought the mine six years ago, which means that the map belongs to me.’

Sabrina shrugged. ‘I don’t know anything about a map. I told you my father rarely confides in me about his business dealings.’

A vague memory pushed into her mind. At the time she hadn’t paid much attention to the incident, but Cruz’s words made her wonder about her father’s curious behaviour when she had walked into his study and found him looking at a document spread out on his desk. Earl Bancroft had snatched up the piece of paper before Sabrina had got a clear glimpse of it and thrust it into an envelope.

‘This is my pension fund for when I retire,’ he’d said, laughing. ‘It’s much safer to keep it hidden here at Eversleigh than in a bank.’

‘Why is the map important?’ she asked Cruz curiously.

‘I believe it shows a section of the mine that was dug many years ago.’ He shrugged. ‘There may be nothing down there, but the Estrela Vermelha was found in the deepest section of where we currently operate and it’s possible that there are other diamonds in the abandoned mine.’ Cruz’s eyes raked Sabrina’s face and she quickly dropped her gaze.

‘Did your father ever show you a map?’

‘No,’ she said truthfully.

‘Do you know where he might have put a map? Does he have a safe where he keeps important documents?’

She shook her head. ‘He wouldn’t need to lock things in a safe. Eversleigh Hall had dozens of secret places to hide valuables—and people, come to that. Many old English houses have secret chambers and priest holes, which were built hundreds of years ago when Catholic priests were persecuted,’ she explained. ‘For instance, one of the wooden panels in this room conceals a secret cupboard. My father knows the location of all the hiding places at the hall.’

‘And do you also know where the secret chambers are?’

‘I know where some are, but not all of them. Even if I knew every hiding place I wouldn’t show you their location without my father’s permission.’

Sabrina felt a sense of loyalty towards Earl Bancroft despite the fact that they had never shared a close emotional bond. Since her father’s mysterious disappearance she had realised that she loved him. She looked at Cruz steadily. ‘If you are really the rightful owner of the map then I’m sure my father would have given it to you when you took over the mine.’

‘Don’t pretend to be naïve,’ Cruz growled. ‘I won’t go so far as to say that Earl Bancroft is a crook, but some of his business dealings are decidedly shady.’

‘How dare you—?’

‘I worked for him,’ Cruz cut her off impatiently. ‘I saw how your father ignored safety regulations in the mine to save money.’

Sabrina’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘My father isn’t here to defend himself and I only have your word on what happened.’

‘And of course you, with your aristocratic title and privileged lifestyle, would not believe the word of someone who grew up in dire poverty in a slum,’ Cruz said sardonically. ‘You always thought I was beneath you, didn’t you, princesa?’

‘That’s not true.’ During their affair she’d hated it when he had mockingly called her princess to emphasise that they came from different ends of the social spectrum. ‘I never cared about where you came from, or that you didn’t have much money.’

He gave a harsh laugh. ‘You made it obvious that you were desperate to return to Eversleigh Hall.’ He glanced around the comfortable library with its shelves of books from floor to ceiling and plush velvet curtains hanging at the windows. ‘I can understand why you hated living in a cramped miner’s cottage with a corrugated-iron roof, when you were used to living in a grand mansion.’

‘I didn’t hate the cottage, but we lived there with your parents and your mother never made me feel welcome.’ Sabrina saw disbelief in Cruz’s eyes and knew it would be pointless trying to convince him that she hadn’t minded the basic living accommodation in Brazil. But his mother’s unfriendliness had been hard to cope with. Ana-Maria Delgado had patently adored her son, and perhaps in Cruz’s mother’s eyes no woman would be good enough for him, Sabrina mused.

As Cruz had said, there was no point in dragging up the past. It had all happened a long time ago and their lives had moved on. Ironically their fortunes had reversed for Cruz was now a millionaire, while since her father’s disappearance she had spent every last penny she had paying for the upkeep of Eversleigh Hall, and she and the house were practically bankrupt.

‘Some things about you haven’t changed. Your eyes still darken to the colour of storm clouds when you lie.’

Cruz’s deep voice jolted Sabrina from her thoughts and she tensed as he walked around the desk and stood unsettlingly close to her.

‘Ten years ago when I asked you if you were happy to live in Brazil with me and have my child, you assured me that you were, but your eyes were as dark as pewter and revealed the truth—that you wanted to return to Eversleigh Hall.’

She flushed guiltily and looked away from his intent gaze that seemed to bore into her skull and read her thoughts. ‘I missed my brother,’ she said quietly. ‘Tristan was just a kid of eleven. After my mother left we had become very close and I was worried about him living here with just a nanny to take care of him.’

‘I don’t believe that concern for your brother was the only reason for your eagerness to leave Brazil, any more than I believe you are unable to contact Earl Bancroft if you wish to,’ he said sardonically. ‘I also think you know more about the map than you have admitted.’

She had forgotten how tall he was, Sabrina thought, feeling a frisson of panic when she realised that he had moved imperceptibly closer to her. She could see the shadow of black chest hairs beneath his crisp white shirt and the faint delineation of his powerful abdominal muscles. Seductive images taunted her subconscious: Cruz’s naked, bronzed body pressed against hers, hard against soft, dark against her whiteness. She visualised him pulling her down on top of him, his strong arms holding her as he guided her onto his erect shaft while she slowly took him inside her.

Heat coursed through her veins. The few lovers she’d had in the past ten years had never evoked more than her mild interest, and sex had been disappointing. But to her shame she was bombarded by memories of Cruz’s magnificent virility and she was aware of a betraying dampness between her legs.

Anger was her only defence against the insidious ache of longing in the pit of her stomach. ‘I’ve told you I know nothing about a map and it’s not my problem if you refuse to believe me.’

Even though she was wearing four-inch heels she had to tilt her head to look at his face. Ten years ago she hadn’t stood a chance against him, she thought bitterly, feeling an ache in her heart for the innocent girl she had once been who had looked forward to going to university. Cruz had taken one look at her and decided he wanted her, but within months of the start of their affair she had been pregnant and facing a very different life in Brazil from the one she had been used to in England.

If he had loved her she would have coped with her new lifestyle, she thought sadly. But when her pregnancy had been confirmed Cruz’s desire for her had died and it had quickly become clear that they had nothing between them to sustain a relationship.

She felt the ache of tears at the back of her throat. It was silly to cry for a lost love that in truth had only ever been an illusion, she reminded herself.

‘I want you to leave,’ she said tautly. She frowned when he made no response, merely raised his dark eyebrows and surveyed her with an arrogance that made her seethe.

‘I suppose you think I should be intimidated by your air of menace. Perhaps you think you can force the whereabouts of the map out of me, but I have plenty of staff in the house.’ She mentally crossed her fingers behind her back as she thought of John and his wife, Mary. The butler and housekeeper were the only remaining staff living at Eversleigh and were past retirement age. ‘If you lay a finger on me I’ll scream.’

She spun on her heels, intending to march over to the door, but his hand shot out and he caught hold of her arm and jerked her round to face him.

‘I don’t think force will be necessary to persuade you to give me what I want,’ he murmured.

Sabrina’s stomach muscles clenched as his sensuous, molten-syrup voice tugged on her senses. Time seemed to be suspended and her breath was trapped in her lungs. Her eyes widened as she watched his dark head descend and she realised that he was going to kiss her. He wouldn’t dare, she assured herself. But this was Cruz Delgado—a man who would dare to make a deal with the devil if he believed the odds were in his favour.

‘I warned you, I’ll scream.’ It was melodramatic, but she felt melodramatic, damn it! She gasped as he pulled her against him and she felt the heat from his body melting her bones.

He gave a wolfish smile. ‘Perhaps you will. I remember how you used to scream with pleasure and claw me with your sharp nails when you came, gatinha.’

‘Cruz—for God’s sake!’ In desperation she thumped his shoulder with her fist, but her blows had as much effect as a mosquito landing on a rhino’s hide.

‘You are so goddamned beautiful,’ Cruz said harshly. He could not resist her and he was shamed by his weakness. If he kissed her, perhaps the fire blazing inside him would cool and he would be released from this mad desire that made his muscles taut and his heart pound. He clamped one arm around her waist and slid his other hand into her hair and up to clasp her nape as his mouth swooped down to capture hers.

Cruz’s lips were hard, demanding, as he forced Sabrina to accept the mastery of his kiss. She was unprepared for the savage hunger that ripped through her. She was transported back in time to when she had been eighteen; a girl on the brink of womanhood, a virgin who had given not only her body but her heart and her soul to Cruz. It had taken her ten long years to reclaim them.

The memory of how badly he had hurt her gave her the strength to fight him. But he remembered how to pleasure her and he knew how to undermine her defences with the bold sweep of his tongue as he traced the shape of her lips before thrusting between them to explore the moist interior of her mouth.

Sabrina felt herself tremble and knew Cruz must sense she was close to total capitulation. But rather than increase the pressure of his mouth he softened the kiss and took little sips from her lips, butterfly soft and so utterly beguiling that she sagged against him and kissed him with a sweetness and curiously evocative innocence that caused Cruz to abruptly lift his head.

Deus! He had not come to Eversleigh Hall with the intention of making love to Sabrina. His eyes shot to the big mahogany desk and for a few seconds he was tempted to sacrifice his hope of finding the map, and probably his sanity, he acknowledged derisively, to satisfy the rampant desire raging through his veins.

He had not expected to feel this overpowering attraction to a woman he had known briefly when she had been a girl. Their affair had lasted for less than a year and after she had returned to England he had determinedly put her out of his mind. When he had arrived at Eversleigh Hall this evening he had assumed he would be immune to Sabrina Bancroft. The reckless craving that consumed him was a humiliating reminder of his weakness ten years ago when he had fallen under her spell after one glance from her storm-grey eyes.

Right now, Sabrina’s eyes had softened to the colour of woodsmoke, the colour of her desire; Cruz remembered that sensual look and felt his body tighten in response. He swore silently to himself. He had been a fool once, but he would not make the same mistake a second time.

His mouth curled into an insolent smile. ‘Your willingness to co-operate is encouraging. All I want now is the map, and I will leave you to enjoy your party.’

The mockery in Cruz’s voice ripped apart the seductive web he had woven around Sabrina. She pulled out of his arms, hot-faced and trembling with anger. It was bad enough that he believed she actually liked playing hostess to Hugo Ffaulks and his bunch of immature friends. But worse was the realisation that Cruz had only kissed her in order to make her lower her guard so that she would give him a map that he was convinced was hidden somewhere at Eversleigh Hall.

Oh, God! What was wrong with her? She hadn’t seen him for ten years, but within ten minutes of meeting him again she had all but invited him to hitch up her skirt and take her right there on the desk. Erotic images swirled in her head and her shame was compounded by Cruz’s husky chuckle that told her he had seen her gaze flick towards the desk. Without pausing to think, she lifted her hand and struck his cheek with a resounding crack that shattered the silence in the library. ‘Get out.’

His eyes glittered. ‘I don’t advise you try that again,’ he said in a measured tone that despite its softness sent a shiver down Sabrina’s spine.

‘Just...go,’ she whispered.

When he’d driven from London to Surrey, Cruz had not anticipated making the return journey without the map in his possession. But his visit to Eversleigh Hall had not gone to plan. He grimaced at the understatement. Now he was at an impasse. Either Sabrina genuinely did not know about the map that Earl Bancroft had shown his father, or she was refusing to tell him where the earl kept it.

A sudden loud crash from outside the library broke the stand-off, and with a muttered oath Sabrina hurried across the room and opened the door.

‘John,’ she called to the butler, ‘what on earth was that noise?’

‘I’m afraid it was Sir Reginald, Miss Sabrina. Some of the guests knocked him over.’

Bemused, Cruz followed Sabrina into the hall and saw the suit of armour that he had noticed when he’d arrived at the house lying in pieces on the parquet floor. A group of young men who were clearly the worse for drink were attempting to fit the pieces back together. One of them staggered towards Sabrina.

‘Sorry about your knight, Sab...rina,’ he slurred. ‘I want you to know that this is the best birthday party ever.’

‘I’m glad you are enjoying yourself.’ Sabrina spoke crisply as she tried to sidestep around Hugo Ffaulks, but his reactions were quicker than she’d anticipated and he slid his arms around her waist.

‘I enjoyed you coming to my bedroom this morning. Will you wake me up the same way tomorrow morning, Sabrina?’

Sabrina missed the cynical expression on Cruz’s face. ‘You can have breakfast in bed tomorrow if you wish, Hugo.’ She struggled to hide her impatience as she reminded herself that the money his parents had paid for the party would cover the hall’s outstanding electricity bill.

Still trying to extricate herself from the young man, she glanced along the hall and saw Cruz by the front door. She flushed when he deliberately dropped his gaze to Hugo’s hands on her bottom.

‘My apologies for disturbing you,’ he said mockingly. ‘Have fun for the rest of the night.’

Damn him to hell! Sabrina thought furiously as she watched him stride out of the house. She wrenched herself free from Hugo. She couldn’t understand her burning desire to run after Cruz and slap the arrogant smile off his face. Usually she was mild natured, but he made her feel so angry that her body was actually shaking, and, when she glanced down, the sight of her pebble-hard nipples jutting beneath her dress was humiliating evidence that it was not only anger that Cruz aroused in her.

When he’d kissed her she had felt alive, truly alive, for the first time in ten years. Oh, she was safe from falling in love with him. She’d have to be certifiable to make that mistake again, but during those moments of passion in the library she had wanted him so badly that even now her breasts ached and she could still taste him on her lips.

She would have to get herself under control before she saw him again. And she was in no doubt that she would see him again. She knew from bitter experience that when Cruz wanted something he would not rest until he had it in his possession.

Ten years ago he had wanted her. Now he wanted a map that he insisted her father had hidden at Eversleigh Hall. She was certain that Cruz would be back, but next time she would be prepared for his sizzling sexual charisma and she would not melt the moment he looked at her, she promised herself.

CHAPTER FOUR

THE EXCEPTIONALLY SMOOTH single-malt whisky served at the Earl’s Head loosened tongues and encouraged local gossip, Cruz discovered. Following his unproductive visit to Eversleigh Hall he had returned to the village pub, where he had earlier booked a room for the night, and ordered a double measure of Scotch with a splash of water, no ice.

‘There’s no better cure for life’s problems than a drop of amber nectar,’ the old man sitting at the bar—a farmhand, Cruz guessed from his rough clothes— commented.

‘Too true,’ Cruz muttered as he pushed his empty glass towards the barman and asked for a refill, plus the same for his companion. Two-thirds of the bottle of whisky later, Cruz had learned some interesting facts about the Bancroft family, including that the pub had been named after one of the current earl’s ancestors, who had been accused of fraud and treachery during the reign of Elizabeth I and beheaded for his crimes.

Treachery clearly ran in the family genes, Cruz thought bitterly. Henry Bancroft had cheated his father out of his rightful share of the Estrela Vermelha diamond, and tonight Sabrina had denied any knowledge of the map of the abandoned mine. But Cruz was certain she was lying. When he had questioned her she had hesitated for a fraction too long and her eyes had darkened to the colour of wet slate.

He drained the whisky in his glass and nodded to the barman to refill it. What could he do? He could hardly shake the truth out of her, he brooded. Somehow he needed to gain access to Eversleigh Hall so that he could search for the map that it seemed likely her father had hidden in one of the house’s secret places.

He thought of his meeting with Sabrina and felt furious with himself. It had been a mistake to kiss her, but he had been unable to resist her cool beauty and he despised himself for his weakness. Although it had not been all one-sided, he consoled himself. Sabrina’s ardent response proved that she still wanted him and the knowledge was a useful weapon that he would be a fool not to use.

Cruz pulled himself from his thoughts when he realised that the farmhand was speaking.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised if Lady Sabrina up at the hall didn’t try to forget her problems with the help of a bottle of highland malt.’

‘What kind of problems?’ Cruz asked curiously.

‘Money.’ The farmhand shook his head. ‘The estate has become more and more run-down since her father took over from the old earl many years ago. Henry Bancroft never spent much time at Eversleigh. He was always going abroad for business reasons. It’s said that he trades in diamonds, but no one has seen the earl for well over a year and there’s a rumour in the village that his daughter has reported his disappearance to the police.’

Cruz remembered Sabrina’s curious statement—my father is incommunicado at the moment.

‘My guess is Lady Sabrina is struggling to cope with running the house and estate.’ The farmhand downed his whisky and allowed the generous stranger who was such a good listener to fill his glass again. ‘I used to do a bit of work up at the hall myself, but all the staff have been laid off, apart from old John Boyd and his wife who have been in service there for as long as anyone can remember, and some young girl who looks after the stables.’ He sighed. ‘The trouble is these old country houses are expensive to maintain. It’ll be a shame if Eversleigh is sold.’

‘There may not be anything left of it to sell,’ the barman said as he put down the phone and came over to them. ‘That was Miss Bancroft. There’s a fire up at the hall, and she phoned to ask if some of her guests can spend the night at the pub.’ As he finished speaking the loud wail of a fire engine’s siren sounded outside on the main road.

How bitterly ironic it would be if the house went up in flames before he’d had a chance to find the map of the diamond mine, Cruz thought grimly. Aware that he was over the alcohol limit to drive, he said urgently to the barman, ‘Can you call a taxi to take me to Eversleigh Hall?’

* * *

‘I’m glad to report that the fire is under control. The blaze was almost certainly caused by a smouldering cigarette dropped onto a carpet or chair,’ the fire officer explained to Sabrina. ‘I understand there was a party taking place here tonight. Perhaps one of the guests drank too much and fell asleep holding a lit cigarette.’

‘I’d asked people not to smoke in the house.’ She grimaced. ‘I can’t believe how quickly the fire spread and how much damage it has caused. It looks as though most of the top floor of the east wing and the roof have been completely destroyed.’

The fireman glanced up at the dark sky as rain began to fall. ‘I suggest you call a local building firm to come and rig up tarpaulins so that the damaged part of the house will be protected from the weather until you can see if any of the furnishings are salvageable.’ He gave her a sympathetic smile. ‘I imagine some of the paintings are originals and irreplaceable, but at least they’ll be covered by your contents insurance.’

Sabrina felt a sensation like concrete solidifying in the pit of her stomach as the fireman’s words sank in. Three months ago she’d had to cancel the contents insurance policy on Eversleigh Hall because she had been unable to afford the premium. It had been a difficult decision but there had been other more urgent bills to pay for, such as a new boiler for the central heating system that had packed up on the coldest day of the winter. Since then she had been meaning to renew the policy but unforgivably it had slipped her mind.