The Balfour Legacy. Кэрол Мортимер
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do something soon, she was going to pick up on it.
‘Better?’ he questioned thickly, wondering how soon he could make his escape, even while he silently mocked himself for his own hypocrisy. Because you don’t want to go anywhere, do you, Carlos?
‘Sort of,’ she replied softly.
He rolled over, glad to be able to shift his position and to fractionally ease some of the terrible aching. ‘Only sort of?’
‘Well, like a big weight’s been lifted, only I…’ Suddenly, Kat felt awkward and wondered how she could ever have bared her soul like that. Especially to him—of all people
‘Forget it,’ he said curtly.
‘It was crazy to have bottled it up for so long,’ she said, half to herself. ‘And in a funny sort of way, it feels so much better now that I’ve said it.’
In the soft glow of the apricot light, his eyes narrowed as he took in the full implication of her words. ‘You mean you’ve never talked about it before? Not to anyone?’
‘Never. I’m not really into counsellors—and it’s not the greatest subject to bring up at parties, is it?’
‘I can’t believe that your father didn’t tell me any of this himself,’ he said, his voice growing bitter.
She stared at him. ‘He didn’t?’
‘Of course he didn’t! Madre de Dios, Kat! Do you really think I’d have brought you on board like this if I’d had any idea of the kind of trauma you’d suffered in the past?’
Actually, up until about half an hour ago, if someone had told her that Carlos Guerrero had a tiny pair of diabolical horns growing amidst the tumble of his dark curls, she would have believed them. But as she stared at his angry and shifting features, Kat realised that her feelings for him were undergoing a rapid change. Her physical attraction to him had never been in any doubt, but his surprising protectiveness towards her was forging an even more indelible mark than desire.
She shrugged, trying hard to focus on something else. To protect something of her family’s reputation. And in so doing, surely to protect herself. ‘Daddy’s just a bit insensitive, that’s all.’
‘Please don’t defend the indefensible!’ And then something else occurred to him. ‘Come to think of it, you must have known that I wouldn’t have kept you here if I’d realised what had happened to you as a child. So why the hell didn’t you tell me, Kat?’
Why indeed? She gave a brief smile. ‘Because I can be stubborn,’ she admitted. ‘And proud’.
‘Sí, I can imagine,’ he commented drily, thinking how that tentative smile lit her face up. And how the apricot light of the lamp threw beguiling shadows over the pristine white of her top, emphasising the soft blue shadows which fell beneath the pert swell of her breasts.
‘You know this changes everything?’ he said suddenly.
She blinked up at him. ‘What does?’
‘After what you’ve told me, there’s no way I can keep you on board. Not now.’
Kat stilled. She had rebelled against the lowly duties entrusted to her and being incarcerated on Carlos’s luxury yacht, and she had wanted more than anything to escape. But while it was perfectly acceptable for her to object to staying, it was quite another for him to tell her she couldn’t! She had always rebelled against authority, and she found herself protesting now. ‘Why not?’
He wanted to say, You know damned well why not. But he didn’t. Because once you openly acknowledged sexual attraction, it became almost impossible to resist. He wanted to tell her to stop looking at him as if butter wouldn’t melt in those luscious lips of hers—because he knew that was simply an illusion. Yet their soft petal shape was putting him in danger, making him forget the conflict of interests raging within him.
‘Because maybe you’ve learned a lesson after all,’ he said. ‘That you have to confront your demons in order to get rid of them, and that running away doesn’t solve anything.’
Reality hit her with a harsh jerk. ‘You’re thinking about those rules,’ she said slowly.
‘Sí. The rules—and your father’s wish that you learn the importance of commitment. I hope you have.’ His voice hardened as he told himself that she was no longer his responsibility. ‘But that is up to you, Kat. If you want to spend your life running away, then so be it, but I am no longer willing to be your enforcer. Not any more. I will order the crew to set sail for shore and as soon as we reach dry land in the morning—I can arrange to have you flown back to London.’ His eyes narrowed in question. ‘Unless there’s somewhere else you’d prefer to go? France, maybe? Or perhaps the States?’
Kat swallowed. He was giving her back her liberty—but never had freedom seemed to mock her quite so much. She thought about how nomadic and pointless he made her life seem. The little rich girl with no real place to go—who could just choose where she wanted to flit around the globe, like someone idly stabbing a pin into a map.
She looked into those cold black eyes of his and suddenly a wave of longing washed over her—because didn’t the cloak of darkness liberate her from convention? She didn’t want to go and she didn’t want to leave him—it was as simple as that. At least, not before she had sampled some of his magic. A taste of the sensual promise which radiated like an aura from his powerful frame, and which had ensnared her from the beginning.
She knew it was probably wrong and almost certainly foolish—because what if he pushed her away yet again? But Kat couldn’t help herself. He had ignited a flame in her and she wanted Carlos Guerrero with a hunger she’d never experienced before. And maybe never would again.
She found herself wondering if a woman could just come out and tell a man that she wanted him. And wasn’t it crazy that at the ripe old age of twenty-two, she didn’t have a clue?
‘Let’s not talk about it now,’ she whispered, and snuggled into the warmth of his bare torso.
Uncomfortably, Carlos shifted again—because now her appeal was growing by the minute, and acquiring all kinds of different dimensions on the way. Like a neglected kitten that had been brought inside and given food and shelter, she was looking up at him with something in her eyes which looked uncomfortably like trust.
He wanted to tell her not to trust him, that he never gave enough of himself to a woman to warrant such trust. But he knew from experience that even opening up a topic like that made women brighten. It made them think they were getting close to you. And there was only one way he wanted to get close to Kat Balfour…and no way was he going to give into it…
So why was his hand drifting down from her shoulder to her slender waist, the slick movement of his wrist bringing her soft body even closer? Like a drowning man he fought for control—a steely control and self-will which had always come as naturally to him as breathing. And to his fury and despair, he felt it slipping away from him.
‘Kat…’
‘Mmm?’ All she was doing was whispering her lips against the line of his jaw and there wasn’t anything so very wrong in that, was there? Not when he felt and smelt so warm and so vital.
‘Kat.’ Carlos swallowed, because the ability to speak coherently seemed suddenly to have deserted him. He felt his body tense with a sudden sense of urgency. ‘If I don’t get off this damn bed in a minute, I’m going to do something…something I’ll regret.’
‘Something like what?’
Just then she lifted her face to his, and the moment he felt her warm breath against his skin, Carlos knew that it was too late. ‘Something like…this.’
Feeling the last