Call It Destiny

and gleaming in the night. „A week ago I’d have stumbled over my own feet accepting the offer.“
    „Tired of me already?“
    „You know very well that’s not the case. The way I feel I could put you down right here on the grass and take you,“ he grated.
    She could feel the physical tension in his body and knew he was telling the truth. „I’m not fighting you, Jake. You’re fighting me.“
    „Do you think that if you seduce me often enough I’ll give you what you want?“ he asked bitterly. „It won’t work, Heather. Stop playing your dramatic little games and act like the woman I know you are.“
    Heather tried to hide the hurt she knew must be reflected in her eyes. She pulled her arms free from around his neck. „Good night, Jake. I’ll see you in the morning.“
    Jake set his teeth angrily as she disappeared through the dimly lit garden. Then he grimly followed, watching from a discreet distance as she let herself safely into her cottage. He’d hurt her with that last crack about playing games, he realized. It was odd to have the power to hurt someone. He didn’t think he’d ever possessed that kind of power before and it made him uncomfortable.
    He was made considerably more uncomfortable by the stark loneliness of his bed. Two nights of having Heather in his arms had apparently spoiled him completely.
    „Cavender,“ he muttered savagely to himself as he lay staring at the ceiling, „you’re an idiot.“ The situation was ridiculous. They both wanted each other; they both intended to stay together. What the hell was he doing letting her play games with him like this? The fastest way out of the impasse would be to push her into realizing that she had no real choice in the matter. She’d never had any choice. Not since the first time he’d met her. She had been visiting her parents over the Christmas holidays and he’d looked at her and known he would have her and the Hacienda. Everything would be perfect. He’d have a complete home with a wife who understood him and wanted the same things out of life that he did.
    A home. That thought lingered in his head for a tantalizing moment.
    Everything had gone so well until that scene at the chapel. Even after that he thought he’d gotten matters back under control. She wanted him and she wanted the Hacienda. What could be simpler than marrying him?
    Perhaps it was all his own fault for having freed the passionate side of her nature. He hadn’t intended to do that until after the wedding, but he’d pushed her too far when he’d hidden the full truth about ownership of the Hacienda from her. Discovering the way she had been deliberately misled had burst the bonds holding her basic nature in check. Making love to her afterward had only served to heighten the effect. Her surrender had been as deeply passionate as her anger. A formidable combination.
    Jake had never felt so utterly determined in his life as he did in that moment. He would put a halt to Heather’s dramatic little fantasy of love and force her to accept the situation between them for what it was. After all, there was still that practical businesslike side of her nature to tap. He’d use it to resolve the conflict between them.
    The decision made, Jake climbed out of bed, stepped into a pair of jeans and padded barefoot to his desk. Sitting down, he switched on the lamp and opened the drawer. He pulled out a copy of the prenuptial agreement he’d signed and began to study it in detail. Then he reached for another sheet of paper and a pen.
    By the time he was finished with her, Heather was going to acknowledge that their relationship wasn’t a romantic fantasy built on froth and pink air. It was a solid unbreakable association based on sturdy unwavering grounds.
    Heather could save the dramatic passionate side of her nature for the bedroom. Other than there, it had no place in the business of their marriage.
    An hour later when he’d finished his task he was far too alert and restless to sleep. Jake put on some canvas shoes and slipped out into the silent gardens to have a late-night chat with security.

    Heather felt unaccountably suspicious of the dinner invitation from the moment she accepted it the following afternoon. But she dressed for the occasion that evening with panache. The dress she chose was one she had brought with her from San Francisco. It was a close-fitting white sheath, ornamented with dazzling sequined roses on the squared shoulders. With any luck, she