The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child. Anne Mather
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Название: The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child
Автор: Anne Mather
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Исторические любовные романы
Серия: Mills & Boon Modern
isbn: 9781408912768
isbn:
But Alejandro was waiting for an answer and she managed to say, ‘A very confused one, I’m afraid.’ She bit her lip. ‘I’m sure you’re far more experienced than me, Mr Cabral. Is that what you’re trying to prove?’
‘Nao!’ Alejandro was annoyed, his eyes darkening with impatience. ‘I wanted to see you again, Isobella. Is that so hard to believe?’
‘Well, yes, it is, actually,’ said Isobel, eager to keep him talking. ‘I’m not the kind of woman you usually spend time with, I’m sure.’
Alejandro’s jaw tightened. She was right, of course, though he was loath to admit it. Nevertheless, she did intrigue him, and that was a novelty for him.
His eyes dropped to the hectic rise and fall of her chest, and his jeans tightened instinctively. She had full breasts, high and rounded, and they were fairly erupting against the fabric of her shirt. Was she aroused, or was she apprehensive? Was that why she was pushing him away?
‘Do I frighten you?’ he asked abruptly, not sure where that had come from, and her eyes widened at the suggestion.
‘No,’ she denied hotly. ‘But I’d still like to know why you’ve come here. I told you last night that I wasn’t interested in—in—’
‘Casual sex,’ he interposed softly, bending his head to blow gently into her ear. ‘Did I say that was what I wanted?’ His mouth tilted at the corners. ‘Oh, Mrs Jameson, I fear you have a one-track mind.’
Isobel decided she’d had enough. He might be right that she was a contradiction, but he couldn’t know how inexperienced she was when it came to sex.
Raising both hands, she pushed hard against his chest, unbalancing him. Then, she jackknifed away behind the sofa.
But not quickly enough.
His hand caught her wrist, catapulting her back against him. The involuntary recoil brought her up against his chest, her breasts crushed almost painfully between them.
And not just her breasts, she realised, feeling the sudden pressure of his pelvis against her. A pressure reinforced by the swollen thrust of his erection, its heat throbbing hotly against her stomach.
But all this happened almost subliminally. Consciously she was drowning in the unexpected fire in his eyes. A fire that spread throughout her body, creating havoc in its wake. She felt as if she was being consumed, body and soul.
‘Querida…’ The word slipped helplessly from Alejandro’s lips, his hand finding the nape of her neck and turning her face up to his. ‘Do not—do not tell me you do not want me to kiss you. I think you want this just as much as I do.’
And then his mouth was fastened to hers, sucking all the breath from her body. Her lips parted beneath his, his fingers plunging into her hair. Desire, hot and electrifying, assaulted her senses. It was like a flame, licking along her veins, his tongue forcing its way between her teeth to possess the moist cavern of her mouth.
Alejandro’s senses swam. This was not meant to happen, he told himself, yet the smell, the feel and the taste of her caused him to gather her even closer into his arms.
One hand traced the contours of her spine, cupping her bottom and lifting her against him. She couldn’t fail to recognise what was happening. Almost without his own volition, he had surrendered to a need greater than his will.
And then the doorbell rang…
‘Cristo!’ Alejandro swore angrily, burying his face in the moist hollow of her throat, his overnight stubble abrading her skin. ‘Do not move,’ he groaned, uncaring of the reprieve this was offering him. ‘Por favor, Isobella, do not answer the door.’
‘I must.’
Isobel had already slid away from him, tugging down the hem of her tee-shirt, lifting a trembling hand to push back the tumbled mass of her hair. Her voice was shaky, but it was determined. Like it or not, she was going to open the door.
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