when she entered the club she realised that she had made a wise choice.
Most of the other women were in smartly casual clothes.
Only a few of
the older ones looked as if they were planning to attend a formal
dinner party.
"Dr.
Muldaire."
A smiling, middle-aged man came towards her.
"I'm Enrico d'Osolo.
We met at the Generalissimo's party.
Do you
remember?
You were gracious enough to dance with me."
"Of course I remember," Jacey said.
"It was kind of you to invite me here today."
She saw Senor d'Osolo's
eyes move to Ingrid.
"This is Dr.
Ingrid Gustaffsen," she said.
"She works with me at La Primavera.
She's very interested in polo."
"Really?"
Senor d'Osolo looked distinctly sceptical.
"Do you play, Dr.
Gustaffsen?"
"No," Ingrid said cheerfully.
"I just find it exciting to watch all those men in boots.
And with
lovely whips too.
Such fun."
Thrown by this comment, Senor d'Osolo turned back to Jacey.
"Senor Schlemann will be playing, of course.
His team is expected to
win."
"If Senor Schlemann is playing, I'm sure they will," Jacey said.
After
d'Osolo had handed them drinks, and left them alone, Jacey turned to
Ingrid, half angry, half amused.
"Shame on you, you embarrassed the poor man."
"Nonsense," Ingrid said.
"It got him hard.
Didn't you see how he was walking when he left us?
Now when he sees the polo players, he'll remember what I said, and
he'll have a lovely fantasy of me being whipped by a sexy guy in
boots."
She thought about it for a moment.
"Or maybe he'll imagine me in boots, whipping him."
"It's more likely to remind him to ban you from coming here again,"
Jacey said.
She glanced round and saw a couple of large men near the
door of the club room.
She recognised them as Nicolas's heavies.
"See those two over there," she murmured to ingrid.
"If you don't behave, I'll get them to throw you out."
"Really?"
ingrid looked over Jacey's head and surveyed the men.
"You mean those apes in suits?
Who are they, anyway?"
"Security," Jacey said.
"They work for Nicolas."
"They have a sort of primitive charm," Ingrid said.
"I wonder what they're like in bed?"
"Dr.
Muldaire," a familiar voice said, in English.
"Please tell me you've forgiven me?"
Jacey turned, and found herself face to face with Raoul Marquez.
He
was kit ted out for polo, and she had to admit that he looked extremely
attractive.
She could tell from Ingrid's smile that the Swedish doctor
thought so too.
"Why should Jacey have to forgive you?"
Ingrid asked curiously.
Raoul treated her to his most charming smile.
"I offended the doctor.
I was overcome by her.
I forced myself on her."
"And that offended her?"
ingrid marvelled.
"How bizarre."
Raoul smiled, but before Ingrid could ask any more questions Jacey
interrupted firmly: "I've forgiven you, Raoul.
It was all a
misunderstanding, anyway."
She smiled brightly.
"This is my colleague, Dr.
Ingrid Gustaffsen.
She works at La
Primavera with me."
Raoul held out his hand.
"I have heard of you," he said.
"The beautiful doctor with hair like spun gold."
He held on to her
hand, and gazed at her soulfully.
"If I am injured today, will you take care of me?"
"Even if you are not injured," Ingrid offered.
"I'm a very good nurse.
A very good surgical nurse."
It seemed an odd remark to make, but Jacey sensed that Raoul somehow
understood what it meant.
"You are a liberated lady," he said.
"But I am a romantic.
I like to make love in a large, four-poster bed,
with the windows open and the moonlight streaming in."
"Well, I could enjoy that too," Ingrid said.
"In fact, it would be quite a novelty."
Jacey pushed her empty glass determinedly into Ingrid's hand.
"Ingrid, be a dear and get me another drink."
Ingrid took the hint, and wandered away.
Jacey turned back to Raoul.
"Listen," she said, 'it's true I was angry with you at the party, but
that's all in the past.
Did you know that Peter's gone back to
England, and I'm with Nicolas now?"
"Everyone knows you're with Nicolas," Raoul said dolefully.
"I can't imagine why.
You could have had me.
Why were you so angry
with me?"
"I don't like being manipulated," Jacey said.
He looked at her in surprise.
"I wanted to make love to you.
Is that manipulation?"
"Peter was very anxious for me to be at that party," Jacey said.
"He wanted to push me into bed with you.
And you probably put him up
to it.
That's manipulation."
"I know nothing of Peter's motives," Raoul said.
"I only know my own."
He gazed at her again.
"I would not insult you by treating you as if you were a commodity to
be exchanged between two men.
I am deeply hurt that you should think
this of me."
Jacey stared at him.
She had a feeling that he was being honest with
her.
She remembered Carmen praising Raoul.
What was it she had called
him?
A sweetie?
A romantic?
A man whose only problem was that he had
seen too many movies, and thought life was black and white, a battle
between the good guys and the bad guys?
She remembered how she had
rejected this description of Raoul at the time.
Now she wondered if it
was much nearer the truth than she wanted to believe.
"Perhaps I've been unfair to you," she conceded.
"You have," he agreed, 'if that's what you thought of me.
But
misunderstandings can be forgiven.
Now, maybe, we can be friends?"
"Just good friends?"
she teased gently.
"Of course," he said.
"I am capable of friendship with women.
I would ask you to dine with
me, but I am certain Nicolas would not approve."
"I'm sure he wouldn't," Jacey said.
"You two aren't exactly friends, are you?"
"We are mortal enemies," Raoul said dramatically.
"Today we will battle it out on the polo field.
In the future who
knows?
Governments are not indestructible."
"You're not thinking of opposing Hernandez?"
Jacey asked.
"Hernandez is a fool," Raoul said.
"A weak fool.
But he is not evil.
Nicolas Schlemann is another matter altogether."
"Nicolas has a lot of power."
"The Marquez family have been in Guachtal much longer than he has."
Raoul's voice was suddenly cold.
"And they will be here long after he has gone.
Believe me."
"Aren't you taking a risk, telling me all this?"
Jacey asked.
"I might report you."
Raoul laughed, and the mood between them lightened.
"You wouldn't do that.
You are too beautiful to be treacherous."
He
shrugged.
"And you wouldn't be telling Nicolas anything he doesn't already
know."
"So you would support Lohaquin?"
Jacey asked.
"You'd support a revolution?"
Raoul laughed again.
"I support my country.
I am a patriot."
He glanced up at the clock.
"And I am also the captain of my team.
I must go."
He took her hand
and kissed her fingers theatrically.
"Will you forgive me when my team defeats your lover's?"
"I've been told Nicolas is going to win," Jacey said.
Raoul shrugged.
"If the best man wins, as you say in England, it will obviously be me.
We shall see."
Ingrid wandered back to Jacey.
"What a cute guy," she said.
"It's a pity he talks like a bad romantic novel.
Was that nice bulge
all genuine cock and balls?"
"I've no idea," Jacey said.
"Surely you've fucked?"
Ingrid sounded surprised.
"Didn't he say he forced himself on you?"
"He tried," Jacey said.
"But I said no."