Christmas Kisses: The Spanish Billionaire's Christmas Bride / Christmas Bride-To-Be / Christmas Wishes, Mistletoe Kisses. Alison Roberts
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had enjoyed seducing women just as much as any other red-blooded male. But his need to be near Dominique—to know where she was when she wasn’t in his sight, to hear her voice, to gaze at her and wonder what it would feel like to have that long unbound hair of hers trickle freely through his fingers, to have her unique scent saturate his senses—it was like some unstoppable force of nature that he scarce had any control over.
For the past two years he had steered clear of romantic entanglements like a driver taking an immediate detour whenever a potential traffic jam loomed on the horizon. Nothing could have prepared him for the powerful feelings running through his body and mind whenever he even thought about Dominique—let alone spent time with her. And this afternoon, when he had deliberately sought her out in the library, locked the door and engaged her in the most intimate way … Cristiano almost had to suppress a groan as he recalled the experience.
As though sensing his passionate discomfort, Dominique glanced across the table at him just then, and he saw the surge of colour that tinted her cheeks to a most delightful rose-pink. Dry-mouthed, he let his glance fall to the scooped neckline of the dress she was wearing, and the enticing shadow of cleavage it revealed. She had the most lush, perfect breasts … breasts that Cristiano’s mouth had become acquainted with only a few short hours ago. When he thought of the night that lay ahead he tried to quash any qualms that arose in his mind about the wisdom—or lack of it—of what he was anticipating by fiercely asserting that he would not be reckless. He would absolutely protect Dominique against another situation like the one that had manifested itself with Ramón. And he reassured himself that their being together the way he yearned for could not be wrong when she had made it so clear to him that it was what she desired too …
Dominique had lain in the bathtub for ages after Matilde had gone to sleep. She had scattered a handful of fragrant rose petals in the steamy hot water—a gift that had been left in a beautifully presented jar, along with many other expensive toiletries on the marble surround for her exclusive use. Lounging back in the gently lapping perfumed water, she felt as close to the legendary Cleopatra as a girl could get. She might not be bathing in asses’ milk but this luxurious alternative was seriously hard to beat!
As soon as she started to relax, one subject asserted itself in Dominique’s mind above all the rest. Cristiano and his promised visit. Even though the air was filled with steam, she sensed a shiver of delicious anticipation quiver through her. Their encounter this afternoon in the library had been beyond words, but it had left her hungry for more of his thrilling touch.
Her excitement was only dampened by one question … Was she the biggest fool that ever lived where men were concerned? Why didn’t it seem to be an even halfway viable option to resist Cristiano’s devastating attraction? It was a dangerous game she was playing. And she was the one who was going to get hurt—not him.
Her disquiet increased. He had already mentioned that he expected that she would meet someone else one day and get married. Surely the subtext of that assertion was that she would then be off his hands, leaving him free to enjoy the bachelor status Dominique guessed he guarded so jealously? And why wouldn’t he, when he was rich, gorgeous and successful? Who could blame him if he wanted to play the field instead of settling down? All that was probably on the cards with him for Dominique was a brief, intense affair.
A frustrated sigh escaped her. If only Cristiano hadn’t been so persistent in trying to help her! If only he hadn’t acted so honourably on his cousin’s behalf and brought her back to Spain, united her daughter with her grandmother and given Dominique the opportunity for a far better life than she’d ever known before! All these amazing things had worked their magic on her sensitive heartstrings more than anything else—even more than the sizzling attraction that now flared between them. And now her situation was as precarious as a novice trapeze artist balancing on a high wire …
By the time she’d vacated the sensually fragrant bath serious doubt had set in about the whole affair. And once she’d dried herself off, put on a short cotton nightdress and climbed into bed, Dominique told herself that when Cristiano showed up she would tell him she’d changed her mind about them being intimate. That she’d decided it was best if they just stayed friends rather than risk spoiling everything if they became lovers …
But midnight came and went, and there was no sign of the man whose visit she’d anticipated with such nervous excitement and trepidation. Hurt that he’d obviously come to the conclusion himself that their nocturnal assignation wasn’t a good idea, Dominique switched off her bedside lamp and lay back in the darkness, feeling slightly ill. Why hadn’t he come? Had he recognised somehow that she was too needy and been put off? God knew she had tried so hard to contain her emotions and feelings around him, tried to let him see only that her intention was to be independent and not depend upon any man again! But then she had been so eager when he had kissed her, touched her. She had hardly pushed him away! Oh, God … why couldn’t she ever get it right? Turning her face dejectedly into the pillow, Dominique reluctantly closed her eyes. As profound disappointment and an inevitable sense of rejection washed over her, she prayed she would soon escape her distress in the dreamy avenues of sleep …
‘Buenos diás, Dominique.’
Everything in her tightened at the sound of that arresting rich voice, but she did not glance round. In the large but homely kitchen, giving her daughter her breakfast, Dominique was halfway to Matilde’s mouth with a spoonful of oatmeal when Cristiano finally put in an appearance. The other members of his family had long since eaten and gone out again, leaving her with some precious time to spend alone with Matilde. She wondered that Cristiano had the nerve to wish her good morning after so casually standing her up last night, but told herself that whatever happened she mustn’t let him see how upset she was.
‘Morning.’ Dominique murmured the word beneath her breath, and was startled when Cristiano dropped down onto the bench opposite her at the long pine table, ruefully tunnelling his fingers through his midnight-black hair. There were dark smudges beneath his eyes, as if he had hardly slept, but she steeled herself against feeling the slightest bit of sympathy for him.
‘I am sorry about last night,’ he ground out, the huskiness in his voice making her spine tingle.
‘Are you?’ Scooping another spoonful of cereal from the cheerful yellow bowl in front of her, Dominique briskly popped it into Matilde’s eagerly waiting mouth. ‘I’m not. With hindsight I can see that it would have been the very worst of mistakes, and you not showing up has thankfully helped me come to my senses!’
‘Please do not say that!’
When Cristiano would have reached for her hand, Dominique deliberately moved it out of his way.
‘I wanted to come to you … more than you can even imagine!’ he insisted. ‘But I asked myself if I was being entirely fair to you, Dominique. You have already had cause to doubt the integrity of one Cordova … I did not want to put you in a similar position again. I did not want you to think that I was taking advantage of you simply because you are staying in my house and we have developed an attraction for one another.’
‘Well … whatever your reasons, you did me a big favour, Cristiano! I’m obviously too damn trusting for my own good! This latest incident has only confirmed that. There’s no need for you to give it another second’s thought. Let’s just put it behind us and carry on as normal until I leave to go back to England—okay?’
‘Como? Since when did you decide that you were going back to England?’
Even as he asked the question, everything in Cristiano clamoured silently in violent protest. Fear of risking his heart and his soul had kept him out of Dominique’s bed last night, and this was the price he was to pay for it! Dios mío! He had wrestled with the twin demons of fear and desire all night, and now he realised his decision not to go to her was going to drive her away. He could see by the hurt and confusion on her lovely face that she had taken his non-appearance as nothing less than pure rejection, and he could hardly blame her.
‘Since I woke up this morning! Anyway