Mistress to the Mediterranean Male. Кэрол Мортимер
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studied her between narrowed lids, knowing exactly what she meant by that last remark.
Brynne intended to ensure that the opportunity to make love with her did not occur again.
He knew it was the sensible thing to do. The right thing to do. And yet sensibility was not an emotion this young woman aroused in him.
He had wanted her badly last night, had felt her quiver in response a few minutes ago when he had touched her, and knew he could not offer the guarantee, given similar circumstances, that it would not happen again …
‘You will “try”, Brynne …?’ he taunted softly.
Her mouth tightened. ‘Yes.’
Alejandro nodded. ‘Then I will try also,’ he murmured huskily.
‘Although this is perhaps not the right room in which to make such an assertion?’ He looked around them pointedly.
The sudden vision he had of Brynne lying naked with him on his four-poster bed, those golden limbs entangled with his, the fiery swathe of her hair cascading over his chest, was perhaps not conducive to such a claim either!
‘I’ll go back and sit with Michael now.’ Brynne turned away from him abruptly.
‘Brynne …?’ Alejandro reached out to lightly grasp her arm. She stared up at him and he looked down into that beautiful but pale face; he saw the guarded emotions in those dark blue eyes.
Alejandro was overwhelmed with a desire to kiss her again, to touch her, caress her!
Instead he spoke harshly. ‘I shall be out to dinner again this evening but I will speak to Michael before I leave.’
Brynne didn’t need two guesses as to whom Alejandro would be having dinner with again this evening.
Obviously their discussion earlier had made no difference to his continuing a relationship with that other woman. No doubt Antonia Roig was sophisticated enough to deal with the sort of relationship Alejandro was used to, the only sort of relationship he would allow in his life.
The sort of relationship she and Alejandro had almost fallen into themselves last night …
Alejandro had been right to upbraid her on that subject. Her own response to him last night had made a complete nonsense of her assumptions about his casual relationship with Joanna all that time ago.
Last night she had been a victim of her own desire for this man. She knew even now that she could so easily have forgotten everything but Alejandro as his hands and lips had weaved a magic over her body that she had had no thought of denying.
Just the touch of his hand on her arm right now was once again weaving that magic …
‘I’m sure Michael would like that,’ she bit out.
‘And you, Brynne?’ Alejandro murmured throatily. ‘What would you like?’
She would like him not to go to Antonia Roig! But to stay here with her this evening. For them to talk. To laugh. Before they made slow, leisurely love together.
Madness!
Her chin rose; she was determined to fight these feelings. And to go on fighting them.
‘Once Michael is awake I would like to go and have a quick bath before our evening meal,’ she dismissed lightly.
The thought of Brynne, those long, golden limbs completely naked, her hair secured loosely on top of her head as she floated in the Jacuzzi bath in the room that adjoined her bedroom, was almost Alejandro’s undoing.
Instead he thrust her away from him, his expression harsh and remote. ‘Go and bathe now, if you wish,’ he rasped, forcing that image firmly from his thoughts. ‘I will sit with Michael until you return.’
She looked at him quizzically. ‘You’ve decided to call him Michael, after all …?’
‘For the moment, yes.’ Alejandro shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Perhaps in wanting him to become immediately Spanish, I am expecting too much too soon.’
Brynne gave a rueful smile. ‘I think that’s very wise.’
‘Wise, Brynne?’ he echoed mockingly. ‘I did not think you believed me capable of such an emotion.’
She believed him capable of many more emotions than she would care to admit, the main one, she realized as she continued to look up at him, being an integrity where the existence of his son was concerned.
Alejandro had remained in ignorance of Michael’s existence for over six years, and even once he had seen the newspaper article on Joanna’s death, and realized that her son could also be his own son, he could have continued to ignore that existence if he had chosen to. But instead he had claimed his son, had fought a legal battle with her in order to secure that claim. And through all of that he had maintained a respect and affection for Joanna that was unshakeable.
Alejandro Santiago, she acknowledged, was indeed an honourable man.
The fact that he resented her, and her earlier efforts to deny him his son, was perhaps the price she paid for that realization …
Her smile deepened. ‘I’m sure that what I think of you is of absolutely no importance to you whatsoever, Alejandro!’ she said with certainty.
Was it unimportant? Alejandro wondered. Last night he had made love with this woman, would have taken her completely if Antonia had not arrived so unexpectedly. How would Brynne have behaved towards him today if that had happened?
It would, he knew with sudden clarity, have made it impossible for them to continue to stay here together.
He gave a hard smile. ‘None whatsoever,’ he confirmed dismissively. ‘Go and take your bath,’ he instructed curtly before turning away, his back rigid, hands clenched at his sides as he stared out of the window until he heard the bedroom door close softly as Brynne left.
His breath left him in a shaky sigh as he forced the tension from his shoulders and slowly unclenched his fists.
This completely candid conversation with Brynne had been necessary and perhaps long overdue. Even though she didn’t appreciate the comparisons he made between his past relationship with Joanna and what had happened between the two of them last night, it had needed to be said. Although it hadn’t been deliberate, Brynne now knew that desire was as forceful an emotion as love was reputed to be.
Reputed. Because Alejandro had never loved any woman. Not Joanna. Not Francesca. Certainly none of the now nameless, faceless women he had been involved with over the years.
He wasn’t in love with Brynne either, but nevertheless her flame-coloured hair, those candid blue eyes and that delectably arousing body had become a torment to him, a temptation.
It was a temptation he was finding it increasingly difficult to resist …
CHAPTER TWELVE
BRYNNE awoke drowsily as she felt herself being lifted, an arm about her shoulders, another beneath her bent knees. Her lids felt heavy as she looked up and found Alejandro’s face only inches from her own, those two cradling arms obviously his.
‘What are you doing?’ she murmured sleepily.
He looked down at her, eyes dark and unfathomable. ‘What does it look like I am doing?’ he came back softly.
It looked—and felt—as if he were holding her against that muscled hardness of his chest. Brynne was able to hear the steady beat of his heart beneath the silk material of his shirt.
‘I found you asleep on the sofa when I returned home,’ he added huskily as he began to walk up the stairs.
Oh, yes, she remembered now. She and Michael had eaten a leisurely dinner together, her own meal accompanied by a couple of glasses of wine. After she had put Michael to bed she had sat in the sitting-room reading—still unable to banish