Back in the Spaniard's Bed. Trish Morey

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      And then there were his eyes.

      Dark and fathomless under a dark slash of brow, and framed in lashes women would kill for, those eyes stared at her now, pinning her to where she stood. There was still traffic outside. She was vaguely aware of the bustle and movement of a city in motion. But all that shrank in her ears under the thump of her beating heart and the questions that framed themselves so jaggedly in her mind.

      ‘What do you want?’ Her voice sounded unnaturally tight in the tiny shop—but how could it sound anything else now that he was absorbing all the space, effectively shrink-wrapping the room? She’d heard not a word from Alejandro since she’d left his home in Spain two months ago, and the look in his eyes before she’d done so had been no less unforgiving than it was now. Clearly nothing had changed.

      He paused. Or was it just that time slowed in the air that hung heavy and thick between them, in the dark laser glare he directed her way?

      ‘My dear Leah,’ he said at last, holding out his arms as he made a move closer. ‘Is this any way to greet an old friend?’

      Her eyes narrowed, along with her thoughts. Alejandro wanted something. Friendship had been the last thing on his mind that fiery day two months ago, when she’d walked out of his villa and out of his life, his savage parting words still stinging in her ears. ‘Get the hell out,’ he’d yelled after her. ‘There are plenty more where you came from.’

      And she’d known what he said was true. Hadn’t she lived with that fact hanging over her head every day of their six-month liaison? She’d known from the very beginning that she was only one more in a long line of mistresses. She’d been reminded of that fact every time she was out in public with him and women jostled to get close, flashing him white-toothed smiles and perfectly angled décolletages. Because they’d known it just as much as she had. Her position as mistress to Spain’s hottest property was tenuous. Short-term. Temporary.

      And after half a year her time must have been nearly up.

      And that was why she’d fled. While she still had her pride, if not her heart. Before she’d crashed and burned like so many others before her.

      ‘Why are you here?’

      He frowned and drew closer, until there was barely a metre and her ancient sewing machine between them, the look in his eyes almost wounded. ‘You sound so suspicious.’

      She wasn’t taken in for a moment. She crossed her arms over her chest, needing to feel together—whole—when her world seemed to be unravelling by the minute. But he was too close for her to think. So close she could breathe in his exquisite cologne. So close she could have reached a finger out and touched the dark curls kissing his collar. So close she could all but taste the salt on his skin.

      Distressed by her body’s betrayal, she edged away, moving deeper into the narrow shop, not stopping until she had the solid counter between them. She clutched onto the counter-top like a lifeline. ‘You haven’t answered my question.’

      He smiled then, and his dark beauty just got better. The sensual slash of mouth suddenly more passionate, a dimple transforming his jawline from ruthless businessman to lover in an instant. My God, she thought. She’d turned her back and walked away from this man. How the hell had she managed that?

      ‘I came to give you something.’

      She blinked and tried to focus on his words. She’d left something behind? She turned her thoughts back to those frantic few hours after she’d made her decision, haphazardly throwing her few scant belongings into her suitcase, trying to shut out Alejandro’s orders that she stop—orders that had soon turned to demands that she get out when it had become clear there was no way she would change her mind. She’d left nothing, she knew. Only the trappings of her mistress life, the gowns and shoes and jewels, and those had never really been hers.

      Only those, and the heart she’d had no choice but to leave battered and bleeding behind. ‘I left nothing,’ she lied. ‘So what is it?’

      The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile that missed his eyes completely. ‘I came to offer you a second chance.’

      For just a moment it felt as if her heart had stopped beating, until the thumping kicked in again, louder and more insistent than ever, and her lungs demanded to be filled with air, demanded it now! How many nights had she lain awake, wishing he would call, wishing he would tell her he missed her, wishing more than anything that he might discover he loved her after all? But not once had he bothered to contact her. Not once had he even bothered to get in touch. She’d long ago given up hope that he would. And yet he was here now …

      Had she given up hope too soon?

      She searched his eyes and her hopes were dashed anew.

      Not a chance.

      Just one look at the hostility emanating from those dark depths and common sense prevailed. Alejandro had the look of a man who wanted to do someone some serious damage, and right now she was the only one standing in the line of fire.

      She shivered and shifted nervously away, wanting to get out of range, knowing there was nowhere in the small shop that would afford her sanctuary. ‘I don’t understand what you’re offering? A second chance at what, exactly?’

      ‘I will take you back as my lover. All will be forgiven.’

      This time she laughed out loud. He was forgiving her? Did Alejandro’s arrogance know no bounds? And to think that for a half-second she’d imagined he’d come back because he’d suddenly discovered he loved her.

      ‘You’re forgetting something, Spaniard. I left you. I neither need nor want your “second chance”.’

      Her laughter had been bad enough, cutting through the tense atmosphere and leaving jagged edges, but to refer to him as if she couldn’t even bear to mention his name … His teeth ground together, his jaw jammed tightly closed. Things had not been that bad between them. Of that he was certain.

      ‘You would not have me believe you have forgotten my name? A name you cried out so frequently and with such passion?’

      ‘You know I wasn’t trying to insult you. I was trying to keep this conversation impersonal.’

      ‘But it has always been personal between us. Or should I say—’ he hesitated, daring her to turn her eyes away ‘—intimate.’ He caught her reaction, the widening of her eyes, the kick of her chin as she swallowed back on her shock, and he knew she hadn’t forgotten. ‘We are good together. Why would you throw that away?’

      ‘Because I’m perfectly happy with my life just the way it is.’

      ‘I don’t believe you.’

      ‘And I don’t care what you believe. You can take your second chance and go home.’

      His eyes took her in, scanned her like radar, swallowing her whole. ‘You’ve lost weight.’

      ‘I’ve been busy.’

      ‘Too busy to eat?’

      She shrugged and averted her eyes, but not before he caught the clouds rolling across them. Money problems could do that to people, he knew, but СКАЧАТЬ