A Spanish Affair. HELEN BROOKS

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A Spanish Affair - HELEN  BROOKS


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that be a further nail in my coffin?’

      The very English phrase, spoken in the dark accented voice and without a glance at her, caused Georgie to stiffen slightly. ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said flatly.

      ‘I think you do,’ he returned just as flatly.

      ‘Now, look—’ Whatever she had been about to say ended in a squeak as he pulled the car into the side of the road and cut the engine. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked nervously.

      ‘I want to look at you while I talk to you,’ he said softly, ‘that is all, so do not panic, little English mouse.’

      ‘Mouse?’ He couldn’t have said anything worse, and then, as she jerked to face him and saw the smile twisting the firm lips, she knew he was teasing her.

      And then the smile faded as he said, ‘I think we need to get a few things out into the open, Georgie.’

      ‘Do we?’ She didn’t think so. She really didn’t think so. And certainly not here, in this sumptuous car with him about an inch away and with nowhere to run to. She should never have antagonised him, she acknowledged much too late.

      ‘You look on me as the enemy and this is not the case at all,’ Matt said softly. ‘If your brother fails, I fail. If he makes good, it’s good news for me too.’

      The hostility which had flared into life the minute she had set eyes on him, and which showed no signs of abating, was nothing to do with Robert and all to do with her, Georgie thought as she stared into the metallic grey eyes narrowed against the sunlight. But she could hardly say that, could she? So instead she managed fairly calmly, ‘I think that’s stretching credulity a little far. This business is everything Robert has; your interest here is just a tiny drop in the vast ocean of your business empire. It would hardly dent your coffers if this whole project went belly up.’

      ‘I have never had a business venture go “belly up”, as you so charmingly put it, and I do not intend for your brother’s to be the first,’ Matt returned smoothly. ‘Besides which…’

      He paused, and Georgie said, ‘Yes?’

      ‘Besides which, you underestimate his assets,’ Matt said quietly.

      ‘I can assure you I do not,’ Georgie objected. ‘Robert has no secrets from me and—’

      ‘I wasn’t talking about financial assets, Georgie.’

      ‘Then what?’ She stared at him, her clear sea-green eyes reflecting her bewilderment.

      He had stretched one arm along the back of her seat as he turned to face her after switching off the engine, and she was so aware of every little inch of him that she was as tense as piano wire. It wasn’t that she expected him to jump on her—Robert had told her it was common knowledge Matt de Capistrano had women, beautiful, gorgeous women, chasing after him all the time and that he could afford to pick and choose—more that she didn’t trust herself around him. She seemed destined to meet him head-on and usually ended up making a fool of herself in the process. He was such an unsettling individual.

      ‘What do you mean?’ she repeated after a moment or two when he continued to look at her, his eyes with their strange dark-silver hue holding her own until everything else around them was lost in the intensity of his gaze.

      ‘He has you.’ It was soft and silky, and Georgie floundered.

      ‘Me?’ She tried for a laugh to lighten what had become a painfully protracted conversation but it turned into more of a squeak.

      ‘Yes, you.’ He wasn’t touching her, in fact he hadn’t moved a muscle, but suddenly he had taken her into an intimacy that was absorbing and Georgie found herself thinking, If he can make me feel like this, here, in the middle of the day and without any desire on his part, what on earth is he like with those women he does desire? No wonder they flock round him. As a lover he must be pure dynamite.

      And that shocked her into saying, ‘Sometimes I’m more of a liability than an asset, as you well know,’ her voice over-bright.

      ‘I know nothing of the sort. How can honesty and idealism be viewed in that way?’ he returned quietly.

      She wished he would stop looking at her. She wished he would start the car again. She wished she had never agreed to have this lift with him in the first place! ‘You don’t agree with me about Newbottle Meadow for a start.’ She forced an aggressiveness she didn’t really feel as an instinctive protection against her body’s response to his closeness.

      ‘I don’t have to agree with you to admire certain qualities inherent in your make-up,’ he returned softly.

      ‘No, I suppose not,’ she agreed faintly, deciding if she went along with him he would be satisfied he had made his point—whatever that was—and they could be on their way again.

      He gave her a hard look. ‘Don’t patronise me, Georgie.’

      ‘Patronise you?’ She bristled instantly. ‘I wouldn’t dream of patronising you!’

      The frown beetling his eyebrows faded into a quizzical ruffle. ‘But you enjoy challenging me, don’t you?’ he murmured in a softly provoking voice that stiffened Georgie’s back. ‘Do you know why you like doing that?’ he added in a tone that stated quite clearly he knew exactly what motivated her.

      Because you are an egotistical, unfeeling, condescending—

      He interrupted her thoughts, his voice silky smooth. ‘Because you are sexually attracted to me and you’re fighting it in a manner as old as time,’ he stated with unforgivable coolness.

      For a moment she couldn’t believe he had actually said what she thought he had said, and then she shut her mouth, which had fallen open, before opening it again to snap, ‘It might be hard for you to accept, Mr de Capistrano, but not every female you look at feels the need to swoon at your feet!’ as she glared at him hotly.

      ‘I can accept that perfectly well,’ he returned easily, ‘but I’m talking about you, not anyone else.’ His expression was totally impassive, which made their conversation even more incredible in Georgie’s eyes. The colossal ego of the man, she thought wildly. ‘And I know I’m right because I feel the same way; I want you more than I’ve wanted a woman in a long time. For however long it lasted it would be good between us.’

      Georgie fumbled with the door handle. ‘I’m not listening to this rubbish a second longer,’ she ground out through clenched teeth, more to stop her voice shaking than anything else.

      ‘You are going to look slightly…unusual walking through town with your present attire, are you not?’ Matt asked evenly as he glanced at the acres of rubber adorning her feet. ‘And there is no need to be embarrassed, Georgie. You want me, I want you—it is the most natural thing in the world. There’s even a rumour it’s what makes it go round. It doesn’t have to be complicated.’

      The amusement in the dark face was the last straw. She turned on him like a small green-eyed cat, her eyes spitting sparks as she shouted, ‘You are actually daring to proposition me? In cold blood?’

      ‘Oh, is that what the matter is?’ His expression was hard to read now but she thought it was cynicism twisting the ruthless mouth. ‘You wanted a bouquet of red roses and promises of undying love and for everness? Sorry, but I don’t believe in either.’

      ‘I didn’t want anything!’

      ‘Then why are you so upset?’ he asked reasonably. ‘You could just tell me I’ve got it wrong without the melodrama, surely? It’s not the most dreadful thing in the world to be told you are desirable by a member of the opposite sex.’

      Desirable. Matt de Capistrano thought she was desirable and, if she hadn’t got all this horribly wrong, he had been suggesting they have an affair. Georgie felt a churning in her stomach that wasn’t all fury, and it was only in that moment she acknowledged Matt knew her better than she


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