One Night in... Rio: The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child / Virgin Mistress, Scandalous Love-Child / The Surgeon's Runaway Bride. Anne Mather
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only reason you want me to stop?’ he queried, those curious amber eyes burning with a golden fire. ‘Muito bem.’
Isobel found she was actually trembling, and it infuriated her. For heaven’s sake, what was wrong with her? Even when she and David had first got together she’d never felt quite so vulnerable. Or so exhilarated, she admitted painfully.
‘I think you should let go of me, Mr Cabral,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong impression.’
‘And if I don’t want to?’ he murmured, his thumbs probing inside the neckline of her shirt.
‘I don’t think that matters,’ she retorted, refusing to let him see how he was disturbing her. ‘I don’t know what Julia’s told you about me, but I’m not interested in casual sex.’
That shocked him. She saw the sudden darkening of his eyes, the way the amber gave way to a much more sombre colour. But he still didn’t release her. ‘Nor am I,’ he informed her flatly. ‘And Julia has told me nothing about you. As surprising as that might seem.’
Isobel coloured. ‘I just meant …’
‘I know what you meant, querida.’ His eyes impaled her. ‘But somehow I do not think you are a virgin, nao?’
His fingers tightened a little and Isobel caught her breath. ‘I’m divorced,’ she told him shortly. ‘Now, please—I’d like you to let me go.’
‘Because I have offended you?’ His scowl was absurdly attractive. ‘That was not my intention.’
‘No?’ Isobel thought she knew exactly what he had intended. But right now she was more concerned with putting some breathing space between them. With his warm breath against her temple, and his fingers digging into her flesh, she was far too vulnerable. ‘Well, whatever you meant, I’m not interested in massaging your ego.’
‘My ego?’ he sounded amused. ‘So you think you know what kind of man I am?’
Isobel shifted in his grasp. ‘I think you’re too sure of yourself,’ she declared stiffly. ‘And, whatever you say, I doubt if you’re a virgin either.’
He grinned then, white teeth showing between the sensual contours of his lips. ‘Esta certo,’he said. ‘You are so right, cara. I have slept with women, sim. Would you like to know how many?’
‘No.’ She looked horrified now, and he gave a low laugh.
‘I did not think so,’ he said smugly, and, before she had an inkling of what he intended to do, he bent his head and caught the corner of her lower lip between his teeth.
He bit into the soft flesh, but the experience was more of a pleasure than a pain. His tongue stroked across her mouth, a sensuous exploration, and then his mouth covered hers and his tongue surged between her teeth.
One hand circled her neck, and she felt his fingers loosening the knot that bound her hair. She’d swept it up earlier, but she now realised how precarious it had become. Silky strands tumbled down about her ears and his knuckles, and his groan of satisfaction said it all.
Her muffled protest was only a half-hearted thing, the complete unexpectedness of what he was doing leaving her with an odd feeling of unreality. This couldn’t be happening, she thought. Not to someone like her. David had always said she was frigid, but in Alejandro’s arms the hot blood was fairly burning through her veins.
He moved so that she was pressed back against the counter, the hard strength of his body virtually moulded to hers. The kiss deepened and lengthened, and his hands sought her hips, bringing her fully against him, so that all thought of denying his love-making faded rapidly away …
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
Isobel heard the angry exclamation as if from a distance. But its significance didn’t register until sharp nails dug into her arm and she was wrenched away from Alejandro.
Then she saw Julia, and the look on her friend’s face brought a damning feeling of shame. It took the place of what she described to herself later as utter euphoria; she was certain she must have been out of her mind.
‘Julia,’ she said, turning towards her. ‘I—it’s not what you think.’
‘Isn’t it?’ Julia wasn’t convinced. ‘My God, is that blood on your shirt?’
Isobel half-wished it was, then she could claim that Alejandro had only been comforting her. But she doubted Julia would believe that either. ‘It’s beer,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘I spilled it all over me.’
‘That’s not all that’s been all over you.’ Julia was bitter. ‘I thought we were friends, Issy.’
‘We are—’
‘So are you drunk or what? God, aren’t there enough men here for you to choose from without hitting on my date?’
‘Julia—’
‘Se fez favor. Excuse me.’ Alejandro had been silently listening to their exchange, but now he intervened. ‘I came to the party alone, Julia,’ he told her coldly. ‘I may be many things, but I am not your date.’
‘Oh, please—’
Isobel tried again, her gaze barely glancing off Alejandro’s scowling face. She didn’t dare look at him properly, didn’t dare acknowledge something to him that she dared not acknowledge to herself.
Nevertheless, she registered his stillness, the fact that he’d pushed those long-fingered hands into the back pockets of his jeans. She could still feel those hands caressing her, she thought fancifully, but his expression didn’t match her thoughts.
‘We were together earlier!’ Julia exclaimed, looking at Alejandro. ‘You wouldn’t be here at all if it wasn’t for me.’
‘I did not know your invitation came with—how do you say?—strings attached,’ he retorted icily. ‘You forget yourself, Julia. I do not need your permission to speak with Ms Jameson.’
‘To speak with her?’ Julia scoffed. ‘Is that what you call it? When I came in, you had your tongue halfway down her throat.’
‘And that concerns you how?’ His accent was thickening, Isobel noticed. ‘I suggest you leave us, Julia. We are not innocents who require you as a—a chaperon, nao?’
‘Um—perhaps Mr Cabral should leave,’ Isobel ventured, not looking at him as she spoke. ‘It is getting very late.’
She heard his sudden intake of breath at her words. ‘You do not mean this!’ he exclaimed harshly, but before she could respond Julia intervened.
‘She does,’ she said, her expression triumphant. ‘Bye bye, Alex. I’ll see you next week.’
Isobel’s gaze darted from Julia’s face to Alejandro’s. What was that supposed to mean? But he was already striding towards the door, and for a moment she thought he was going to leave without speaking again.
However he halted on the threshold, gripping the frame of the door with one hand, the other pushing back the tumbled darkness of his hair. ‘This is not over, Isobel,’ he informed her softly, and she didn’t know whether that was a threat or a promise. ‘Volto mais tarde.’ And what did that mean? ‘Boa noite, senhoras. Goodnight.’
CHAPTER TWO
AFTER Alejandro had gone, there was an uncomfortable silence. Then Julia said, ‘That was fun, wasn’t it?’
Isobel pressed her lips together. ‘Yes, well, I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.’ She glanced down at her wristwatch, noticing the way her shirt was clinging to her, and cringing at the image she presented. ‘It’s late, as I said. Perhaps it would be a good idea if we wrapped things up now. It’s after one, and—’