The Brazilian Millionaire's Love-Child. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ you are sure?’

      Alejandro wasn’t at all sure he knew what he was doing, but he’d virtually accepted her invitation now.

      ‘Why not?’ Isobel asked, a little offhandedly. And, unlike that other occasion when she’d stepped aside to let him in, she left the door to hurry into the living room. ‘Close the door, will you?’ she called, heading for her bedroom. ‘I won’t be a minute.’

      Alejandro closed the door by leaning back against it. Then, turning, he flicked the key in the lock. For security, he told himself, refusing to admit he had any other reason. Then, as before, he walked into the living room.

      The dark day meant there were lamps burning in three places around the room, two rather attractive table-lamps and a pewter standard-lamp with a huge, fringed shade. She had good taste, he conceded, noticing that the floor had been waxed and that the sofa and chairs had been thoroughly cleaned. Even the cushions bore no imprint of a human body, and the rug that occupied the centre of the floor looked like new.

      A door was open across the room, and curiosity compelled him to find out where it led. But his jacket was wet and, slipping it off, he dropped it onto the floor. Then after a moment’s hesitation he crossed the room and stepped into the short corridor beyond.

      Evidently, the hall gave access to her bedroom and bathroom. There were two doors and, although he knew he was being unforgiveably inquisitive, he went forward towards the first door.

      It was open, and was obviously her bedroom. He saw a rose-patterned bedspread and clothes laid out upon it. Was she preparing to go out? he wondered, unconsciously unfastening his collar as an unfamiliar twinge of something gripped his insides. He couldn’t be jealous, he told himself, pulling his tie halfway down his shirt. It wasn’t as if there was any way he could become involved with an English woman.

      Yet…

      Another door opened across the room and Isobel appeared, clad only in a skimpy half-bra and lacy briefs. She’d made an effort to dry her hair with the towel, but it was still curling wildly about her shoulders. She looked distracted, but amazingly sexy, and Alejandro felt his body respond.

      She hadn’t noticed him yet. She was too intent on picking up the filmy stockings from the bed and sitting down to roll them up her slender legs. But something, a sudden intake of breath on his part perhaps, caused her to glance in his direction.

      With one leg raised so that he could plainly see the honey-gold curls escaping from the crotch of her panties, she was irresistibly appealing and, despite her gasp of outrage, Alejandro moved slowly into the room.

      ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ Isobel could barely get the words past her lips, and, tugging off her stockings, she rolled them into a ball and flung them angrily in his direction. ‘Get out of here!’ she exclaimed, her voice rising half in panic, half in indignation. ‘I—I asked you to wait in the other room.’

      ‘As I recall, you did not make any—como se diz?—any stipulation, nao, as to where you wanted me to stay,’ Alejandro contradicted her, huskily catching the ball of black silk in one hand and raising it to his face. ‘Mmm, they smell of you,’ he went on as she rose from the bed to face him. ‘Do not be angry, cara. You are a beautiful woman. Do not be ashamed of your body.’

      ‘I’m not ashamed!’ Isobel caught her breath. ‘But, if that’s supposed to be some sort of apology, I don’t accept it. You have no right to come here, uninvited, and behave as if I should be flattered.’

      ‘It was not an apology,’ inserted Alejandro mildly, dropping the stockings onto the floor and looking down at her with light, disturbing eyes. ‘I was merely speaking the truth, querida. Do not blame me for that.’

      ‘Oh, right.’ Isobel glanced about her wildly, looking for something—her dressing gown, perhaps—to cover her semi-nakedness. But she’d taken her robe into the bathroom, and the trousers and sleeveless wrap-tank she’d been planning to wear offered little in the way of protection. ‘And I suppose if I were a Brazilian girl you’d behave in exactly the same way?’

      Alejandro’s lips thinned. Despite recent events, he couldn’t deny that there was no way Miranda’s mother would have allowed him to enter her daughter’s bedroom, even if he’d wanted to. Despite the new freedoms the twenty-first century had brought, women of good family clung to the old ways. Oh, that wasn’t to say that young people didn’t rebel. He was sure Miranda had done things her mother knew nothing about. But on the surface anyway the old customs applied, and he was honest enough to admit he’d want it no other way.

      The silence between them stretched, and when he didn’t answer her her lips twisted in contempt. ‘I didn’t think so,’ she said, turning her back on him. ‘Now, will you please get out of here?’

      Alejandro’s hands balled into fists, the urge to grip her shoulders and pull her back against him almost overwhelming. From this angle, he was offered only a glimpse of her breasts, but the narrow curve of her waist and the delectable swell of her hips were irresistible. And the rounded cheeks of her bottom protruding from the black lace of her panties sent a hot rush of blood into his groin.

      He wanted her, he acknowledged grimly. Wanted to bury his burning sex inside her and expunge all the stress and frustration he’d felt since he first kissed her in the welcoming heat of her body.

      But he couldn’t do it.

      He mustn’t do it.

      For God’s sake, he wasn’t an animal. And she wasn’t some cheap whore he could seduce and leave without a backward glance. He respected her too much for that. And, for that reason, he had to get himself out of here before his own needs and the indisputable temptation she represented overcame his good sense

      And then, as he was backing towards the door, she turned her head and looked at him. Blue eyes, as clear and lucid as a summer sky, met his tormented gaze. Eyes that softened and gentled as he looked at her, lips parting to allow the provocative tip of her tongue to appear between her teeth.

      She held his gaze for long, disturbing moments, and then she said a little breathlessly, ‘Your—your jacket’s hanging on the stand in the hall. You—you might have seen it when you came in.’

      In actual fact, Alejandro had been aware of nothing but Isobel when he’d entered the apartment, but he acknowledged now that there probably had been some coats hanging in the hall.

      ‘Certo,’ he said, a faintly mocking expression marring his dark features. Right. But what had he expected? he asked himself bitterly. That she might change her mind and beg him to stay? ‘Obrigado.’ Thanks.

      Isobel managed a slight smile over her shoulder, but her teeth came together and trapped her tongue before she could say anything else. He’d already shown her what he really thought about her. His silent admission that he wouldn’t treat a Brazilian girl with the same lack of respect that he’d shown her proved it. Just because she was tempted to throw caution to the winds and let him make love to her—something she suspected they both wanted—she had to remember that was not a sensible option.

      Alejandro had reached the bedroom door now, and before he stepped out of her sight he gave a slight bow of his head. ‘It has been a pleasure knowing you, Isobella,’ he remarked, not without some irony. ‘Adeus, cara. I hope you have a good life.’

      As Isobel digested the finality of his words, he disappeared into the living room, and СКАЧАТЬ