The Spaniard's Pleasure: The Spaniard's Pregnancy Proposal / At the Spaniard's Convenience / Taken: the Spaniard's Virgin. Margaret Mayo
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do you think I feel?’ his daughter appealed to Fleur. ‘He never lets me out of his sight, and he won’t let me see my real dad.’
Fleur turned shocked eyes on Antonio. ‘I’m sure that’s not true.’
The girl laughed bitterly. ‘You think that because you don’t know him like I do,’ she claimed.
A very timely reminder, thought Fleur. You don’t know him at all, which made the fact that when he was this close she could think about nothing else but how his body would feel against her own all the more hideously appalling!
‘For the moment it’s better if you settle into your new life.’
The teenager glanced over at Fleur. ‘See…I told you so.’ Then, whipping her head back to her father, she snapped, ‘I don’t want a new life; I liked my old life.’
‘You’ll adapt,’ Antonio told her grimly. ‘How is your leg?’ he said, turning to Fleur.
‘It’s fine. I get the stitches out Thursday.’
‘But it could have been otherwise. Something you might like to remember, Tamara, the next time you feel the urge to demonstrate your independence. It is very often innocent bystanders who get hurt.’
The girl flushed and looked guiltily towards Fleur. ‘It wasn’t my fault.’
‘One of the first lessons you need to learn, Tamara, is that a person, at least one with any guts, takes responsibility for the consequences of their actions and doesn’t try and blame someone else.’
Fleur wasn’t surprised to see the tears spring to the youngster’s eyes. The average hard-bitten board member of a multi-national, she reflected, would have struggled not to be intimidated by his coldly peremptory tone and icy manner.
‘Go wait for me in the car, Tamara,’ he added tiredly as he switched his attention back to Fleur, who wished he hadn’t. The dark shadows under his eyes ought to have made him look haggard, but actually they made him look even more darkly dangerous in a sexy way.
‘I wi—’
Fleur breathed again as his attention switched back to his daughter.
‘You will do as I ask for once and try not to inform every passer-by that you are being kidnapped.’
With one final resentful look at his stern profile, the girl flounced off.
Fleur could not control her exasperation. ‘You’re such a prat!’
His dark head came around with a snap.
Refusing to back down in the face of the astonished hauteur stamped on his autocratic features, she pursed her lips and added firmly, ‘Don’t look at me like that; you are. A grade-A, total and absolute…’ She heaved a sigh and shook her head. ‘I’m wasting my breath, aren’t I?’
Some of the frostiness faded from his dark features as he gave an expressive shrug. ‘I am willing to admit I have flaws.’
She closed her eyes for a split second and thought, No visible ones.
Fleur pushed aside an image of him naked—drawn from her imagination—and, opening her eyes, released a rueful, though not totally convincing, laugh.
‘My, what a concession,’ she retorted huskily.
‘And no experience in being a father.’
She tried very hard not to see the flicker of pain, quickly concealed, that flashed briefly in his eyes. She didn’t want to feel empathy for this man; it was the short route to emotional complications she could do without.
Fleur’s eyes travelled the length of his lean, vital body and she repressed a sigh. Who am I kidding? The man is a walking, breathing complication.
‘Well, talking to her would be a start.’
‘Madre mía…!’ he ejaculated, looking less than grateful for the advice. ‘Do you think I have not tried?’ He took a deep breath and continued in a more moderate tone. ‘It is…difficult. The child resents me.’
Fleur looked at him incredulously. ‘Is it any wonder?’ she asked him. ‘You won’t let her see the man she’s presumably thought of as her father for the past thirteen years. I know your middle name isn’t sensitivity, but for goodness’ sake!’ she breathed, shaking her head in disapproval. ‘Surely you must see…’
‘I see…yes, I do see.’ Sensual lips compressed, he drew a hand across his jaw and glared down at her.
Fleur lifted her brows. ‘You see what?’
‘I see that your officious, meddlesome behaviour is meant to compensate for the fact you appear to have no life of your own.’
You can almost see the superiority oozing from every pore, she thought, feeling something snap inside as she looked up at him.
‘For your information, I have a life. I have a great life, which was even greater when you weren’t in it.’ Frowning and hoping Antonio had not picked up on the unspoken implication that he had somehow become part of her life, Fleur added belligerently, ‘And while we’re talking about lives, just how great is yours anyhow?
‘Oh, I know you make a lot of money and you swan around being seen in the right places with some girl with a surgically enhanced body draped all over you. But I’d say your lifestyle is the one that warrents a little scrutiny…’ she suggested with a derisive snigger.
‘As for meddlesome,’ she gritted from between clenched teeth, ‘I admit my natural instinct is to pull someone back when they’re about to walk off the side of a cliff.’ Breathless but unrepentant for her rant, she stuck out her chin and promised sweetly, ‘But in future for you I will make an exception. Actually, if you like I’ll point you in the right direction.’
A stunned silence followed her emotional outburst.
It lasted long enough for Fleur to start doubting the wisdom of speaking her mind. Not that she cared if she had offended him or that she didn’t believe what she had said was not essentially true, though she supposed that some of his girlfriends’ assets might conceivably be natural.
Thinking about some of the more spectacular bodies she’d seen Antonio photographed beside sent her mood into a downward spiral. Attached to those bodies were perfect smiles. Women with those sorts of smiles would routinely tell him how marvellous he was and never, ever say something that left the impression they’d quite like to see him jump off a cliff.
‘I had no right to make personal comments.’
It was grudging but definitely an admission. Surprised, but trying hard not to show it, Fleur nodded her head warily.
‘No, you didn’t.’
‘You really do come out fighting, don’t you…querida?’
And he sounded as if he admired the fact…Every time she thought she had a handle on this man, he did or said something that made her realise he was not always what he seemed.
‘Just because you’re frustrated doesn’t give you the right to take it out on me.’
His heavy eyelids lowered as his bold glance drifted down her body. When he reached her toes he began to work his way up again, really slowly. The action had the result of making Fleur painfully aware of every inch of her body and the way it was reacting to his scrutiny, which was stupid because he was probably compiling a mental list of what was wrong with her.
He got back to her face and it turned out he hadn’t been compiling a list of faults.
He fixed her with a gleaming predatory stare that made her sensitive tummy quiver. His voice was a low, throaty purr as he asked, ‘Has it occurred to you that you’re part of the reason I’m frustrated?’
Chapter Nine
IT