Название: Patriot Threat
Автор: Steve Berry
Издательство: Gardners Books
Жанр: Шпионские детективы
Серия: Cotton Malone
isbn: 9781427258069
isbn:
As much as she hated to admit it…it was perfect.
‘Fortunately it’s the young lady’s size.’
‘My wife,’ Raúl corrected with calm indolence, and Gianna’s mouth opened to deny it, only to have him press light fingers to her lips. ‘You can thank me later, querida.’
Darling? Lover? Whatever interpretation you chose to apply, neither held true…at least not anymore.
She was so tempted to bite him, it almost hurt to resist. And he knew.
‘Shoes,’ he said calmly. ‘And an evening purse.’
If she could, she’d tell him exactly what he could do with both items. The only thing that stopped her was an adherence to polite good manners.
Yet when she stepped into the gown, slid her feet into the stiletto heeled evening sandals and checked the mirrored effect, she had to concede both Raúl and the vendeuse had nailed it.
There was no way she could top it, and her pleased smile said it all. ‘Thank you.’
‘Your husband has a good eye,’ the vendeuse complimented as she clapped her hands and tilted her head to one side. ‘Your hair, señora… Might I suggest you style it up? You have such a slender neck it is a pity not to display it. Diamond ear-studs,’ she enthused. ‘A slim matching bracelet and perhaps a diamond pendant. Not too much to take away from the gown, comprende?’ She moved to stand behind Gianna and freed the zip fastening. ‘I will package the items while you change, sí?’
It took only minutes to pull on tailored trousers, add her blouse, then slip her feet into her footwear.
She emerged from the fitting room to discover Raúl in the process of using his credit card, and she crossed quickly to the sales counter.
‘I’ll pay for the purchases.’
The vendeuse paused and cast him an enquiring glance. ‘Señor?’
‘My wife’s independence is laudable,’ he opined smoothly. ‘However, in this instance you will disregard it.’
‘As you wish.’
‘I would prefer…’ Gianna faltered as Raúl cupped her face and covered her mouth with his own in a soft kiss that tore the breath from her throat.
‘No.’ A gentle remonstrance, but effective, and her eyes widened at the sensual gleam apparent in those dark eyes as he released her.
The atmosphere between them suddenly became highly charged, and for several heart-stopping seconds she was oblivious to everything in the room as she stood in a state of mesmerised inaction.
‘Your packages, señor.’
The sound of the vendeuse’s voice acted as a catalyst that brought her back to reality, and she shook her head in a gesture that indicated acquiescence. ‘Men,’ she confided with a faintly wry smile. ‘Generous to a fault.’
‘Ah, but señora,’ the vendeuse chided gently. ‘What woman would not value such a man?’
Gianna merely offered a winsome smile, and waited until they exited the boutique and were out of earshot before venting quietly, ‘What on earth were you thinking?’
‘To what do you refer?’
‘Don’t toy with me. You know perfectly well what I mean.’
‘You are angry because I bought you a gown?’
She shot him a baleful glare. ‘Try again.’
‘You object because I kissed you?’
‘That,’ she allowed through gritted teeth, ‘and referring to me as your wife.’
‘Querida,’ he reminded her gently. ‘You are my wife.’
Not for much longer. Words she almost said aloud…only for them to remain unuttered, and for the life of her she failed to understand why.
‘Shall we share coffee?’ Raúl suggested, indicating the hotel lounge. ‘Practice,’ he drawled with a touch of indolent humour, ‘for the evening ahead.’
Fun. But not the kind she looked forward to experiencing.
Yet you’ve been there before, remember? The social occasions, some of which had required attendance by the wealthy elite, and she’d excelled first as Raúl’s partner, then as his wife.
A strange ache settled deep in her heart and became a tangible pain. They’d been so happy, so very much in tune…until it all went wrong.
Enough. She’d replayed that fateful scene so many times she could repeat verbatim every word Sierra had uttered. It was like a bad movie played by hostile characters with no happy resolution.
Now there was only the road ahead…one she’d successfully forged on her own. Surely she could survive a two-week sojourn sans any emotional damage?
Consequently she chose a comfortable hotel lounge chair, sank back into it, sipped excellent coffee and attempted to fit Raúl into the mould of casual friend.
It didn’t work… How on earth had she expected it to work? He’d been her lover, and just looking at him revived vivid memories of what they’d once shared. Almost to the point where she could feel his hands on her body, his mouth devouring her own, the intimacies…
Oh, dear God…stop.
She met his thoughtful gaze and offered a stunning smile. It was purely a defence mechanism, one she deliberately adopted in an attempt to fill the time.
Soon they’d return to the car, drive to Calvià, enjoy a light lunch, hopefully with Teresa, who acted as a perfect buffer. Given the customary siesta, after which she could plead time out to connect with her laptop, it would soon be time to shower, tend to her hair, make-up and dress.
Apropos of which, she offered Raúl a perfunctory thanks.
The gown bore an expensive price-tag, the evening sandals were designer, the evening purse… All totalled close to an amount that made her blink.
‘I appreciate your assistance in purchasing the gown, the shoes. Thank you,’ she said, and tried to ignore the way her heartbeat quickened at his lazy smile. ‘However, I insist on reimbursing you.’
‘Consider it a gift.’
He was such a strong and vital man…way too much for any one woman to handle with ease. And yet she had…for a while. Loving him with everything she had, everything she was…heart, mind, soul.
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