The Mediterranean Millionaire's Reluctant Mistress. Carole Mortimer

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      He was more likely to feel the sharp edge of her tongue if—he stopped himself quickly.

      What was he doing thinking of Brynne in that way, when the chances of the two of them ever indulging in an affair—which was all he had to offer any woman now—were precisely nil?

      There had been many affairs since Francesca’s death five years ago, brief, transitional relationships that hadn’t even dented the air of self-preservation he had adopted after his disastrous marriage.

      Alejandro gave a self-derisive shake of his head, knowing that Brynne was the one woman he need never fear he would ever become involved with. She was far too emotional, and since the complete failure of his marriage emotion was something he had avoided like the plague the last five years.

      Besides, the two of them disliked each other intensely!

      Coming back outside with Michael a few minutes later, Brynne hung back slightly as she took in Alejandro’s totally relaxed pose on the lounger.

      His face looked younger and more classically handsome when not dominated by those fierce silver-grey eyes, and she was struck once again by how lethally attractive he was.

      Or would be—if she didn’t dislike him so much!

      He did look a little tired this morning though, and after witnessing his nocturnal roaming the night before, she didn’t need too many guesses as to the reason why.

      He might not have a wife or a fiancée, but after his disappearance the evening before Brynne didn’t doubt that he had a ‘something’! Nor did she doubt that her own and Michael’s presence here made absolutely no difference to the continuance of that relationship.

      ‘I thought we were going out?’ she reminded sharply.

      Alejandro drew in a deeply controlling breath before raising his eyebrows. One thing it was definitely not possible to do in this woman’s company was relax!

      Especially when she was wearing a green halter-top that revealed the creamy cleft between her breasts and a pair of brief white shorts that showed the long expanse of her bare legs.

      ‘We are,’ he said firmly as he stood up, leaving Brynne to follow behind while he walked over to the garages with Miguel. He was annoyed with himself for even noticing Brynne’s leggy beauty, although he dared any red-blooded man not to do so!

      He drove them to Deya himself, knowing from Miguel’s grinning face in the back of the Mercedes that he was enjoying driving along with the roof down, and having his dark hair blown about by the wind.

      It was much more difficult to gauge Brynne’s reaction to the magnificent views they encountered on the drive, her eyes once again behind dark sunglasses, and her expression unreadable.

      No doubt her thoughts were yet another criticism of himself!

      Nothing he did, it seemed, found favour from her, with his every word and every action viewed with distrust or derision.

      It was not a response he was used to in a woman!

      Since the age of sixteen, his dark looks had enabled Alejandro to take his pick of women, and with maturity had come the added bonus of being an entrepreneurial multimillionaire. The wealth and power of such a position seemed an added aphrodisiac to many women.

      But Brynne Sullivan seemed to detest him for those attributes!

      ‘How do you like the island so far?’ he asked, attempting conversation.

      ‘It’s very beautiful,’ she replied stiltedly.

      ‘Many artists live in Deya. Some good. Some not so good,’ he allowed dryly. ‘I am sure you will enjoy looking in the galleries there.’

      ‘Maybe,’ she conceded with a shrug of her bare shoulders. ‘Did you put your guards in the boot of the car?’ she enquired derisively.

      Alejandro’s expression darkened at her deliberate challenge. He was trying to be pleasant, so why couldn’t this woman at least attempt to meet him halfway?

      ‘Raul and Rafael are in the car behind,’ he muttered softly.

      Brynne glanced in the wing mirror of the Mercedes, easily spotting the dark vehicle driving thirty metres or so behind them.

      ‘How nice,’ she responded tartly. ‘Perhaps we can all have coffee together once we get to Deya!’

      ‘Why do you persist—’Alejandro broke off his angry rebuke, his mouth thinning disapprovingly as he glanced at Miguel in the driver mirror. ‘We cannot get there soon enough for me,’ he muttered so that only Brynne Sullivan could hear him, her mocking smile his only answer.

      Not surprisingly the two of them spent the rest of the journey in silence, although both of them had conversations with Michael as he asked a barrage of questions about his new surroundings.

      Thank goodness for Michael, Brynne thought ruefully.

      Although, without Michael, she would never have met the nerve-tinglingly handsome Alejandro Santiago in the first place …

      There really weren’t too many Spanish multimillionaires roaming the streets of Cambridge, she thought wryly.

      She had dated on and off over the years, other students, fellow teachers, all of them without exception nice, pleasant men whom she had enjoyed spending time with.

      In the six stormy weeks she had known Alejandro Santiago she already knew he was neither nice nor pleasant.

      As for enjoying his company … how could she possibly relax enough to do that when just sitting beside him like this made her feel hot all over?

      ‘Deya,’ Alejandro announced with a certain amount of relief as he parked the Mercedes outside one of the village’s most prestigious hotels, intending to have lunch here with Miguel and Brynne once his business meeting was over.

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