The Mediterranean Millionaire's Reluctant Mistress. Кэрол Мортимер

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СКАЧАТЬ to understand Michael’s enthrallment at his new surroundings. If the two of them had just been here on holiday together then Brynne would have been thrilled by the view and location of Alejandro’s villa too, but knowing she would be going alone when she left here in a month’s time certainly took the edge off any excitement she might have felt at their luxuriously opulent surroundings.

      She should have known that the Spaniard’s Majorcan home would be like this.

      After being on the private jet that had flown them here, with its twelve seats that were actually like armchairs, and a young man who had supplied them with a lunch that any exclusive London restaurant would have been proud to serve, Brynne didn’t think anything was going to surprise her ever again!

      This magnificent hillside villa was unbelievable though, she thought. Surrounded by terraces on every level, the marbled interior was wonderfully cool after the hour-long drive from the airport, the white furnishings adding to that feeling of coolness, and the swimming pool was glittering invitingly as an alternative to the tempting beach and cool Mediterranean Sea.

      Despite his initial feelings of apprehension Michael had become absolutely captivated with his new surroundings as soon as they had got on the private jet earlier this morning. If he had continued to be a little shy of his new darkly brooding father, who once aboard the jet had ignored them both completely as he had become engrossed in some papers he had taken from his briefcase, then it hadn’t been enough to dampen the little boy’s enthusiasm once they had been airborne.

      Brynne wished she could share his youthful pleasure, but, unlike Michael, she had been totally aware of Alejandro Santiago’s presence for the whole of the flight, and then again as he had sat with them in the back of the limousine that had been waiting to drive them from the airport along the west coast of the island to this incredible villa.

      No longer wearing one of the formal suits that were all Brynne had seen him in during their legal battle, he looked tall, overpowering and ruggedly handsome in black tailored trousers and a black short-sleeved shirt that was obviously more suitable attire for the warmer climate they were flying to.

      Alejandro’s manner had been formally polite when he had arrived at her apartment earlier this morning, and he hadn’t shown any sign of emotion when he had seen that Brynne was packed and ready to accompany Michael, after all.

      In fact, he hadn’t acknowledged her presence at all, she thought. Any remarks he had made had been addressed to ‘Miguel’—remarks Michael had completely ignored until he had realized he was the ‘Miguel’ being referred to!

      Seeing the two of them together like this made Brynne achingly aware of exactly why Alejandro had been so sure Michael was his son. Both were dark-haired and grey-eyed, and even Michael’s baby face was starting to show some of the harder angles of his father’s features. The fact that Michael was also tall for his age indicated that he would probably eventually attain his father’s considerable height too.

      ‘I do not believe I have ever given you cause to think that I will be—a strict father to Miguel,’ Alejandro said tersely as he saw Brynne’s tearful gaze rest indulgently on Miguel as he ran from one side of the terrace to the other in order to look at the amazing views over the valley and sparkling blue sea.

      She turned to look at him, her eyes appearing bluer and larger than ever, with tears balanced precariously on the edge of her long, dark lashes. ‘So far you haven’t given me reason to think you will be any sort of father to him!’ she replied tartly.

      Perhaps because he still found it difficult to believe he was Miguel’s father!

      Not that he questioned it for a moment; he knew from the medical tests that there could be no doubt. But it had been a very short journey from having suspicions on seeing Miguel’s photograph in the newspapers to having them confirmed so positively. A journey that had been dogged by Brynne’s stubborn refusal to relinquish Miguel to his custody.

      His mouth tightened. ‘I have asked that drinks be served on the terrace beside the pool when you have freshened yourself from the journey.’ Turning to open the bedroom door, he called, ‘Miguel?’

      Like ordering a puppy to heel, Brynne thought resentfully as Michael scampered happily out of the room with the man who was now his father. As expected, her own presence here did seem to be making it much easier for the little boy to accept his change of circumstances.

      She sat down heavily on Michael’s bed, momentarily burying her face in her hands as the tears that had threatened earlier now fell hotly down her pale cheeks.

      Tears that had been long overdue.

      Too shocked after the car accident that had killed Joanna and Tom to do more than try to keep herself emotionally together for her grieving parents and the stunned Michael, Brynne hadn’t had the opportunity to release her own grief. But now, in the middle of all the luxury that Alejandro Santiago would be able to give to Michael as his son, seemed as good a time as any.

      ‘I came back for—Why are you crying?’ Alejandro rasped harshly as he came to a halt in the bedroom doorway.

      Brynne looked up at him, unable not to notice how strong and handsome he looked, despite how she was feeling. She narrowed her eyes. ‘Why do you think?’ she snapped, resentful that this man, a man who made her pulse race in spite of herself, should witness the grief she was no longer able to contain.

      His chin firmed squarely. ‘I have no idea,’ he said, shaking his head.

      ‘No.’ She straightened, her moment of weakness over as if she had been dowsed in icy-cold water. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she scorned. ‘What did you come back for?’ she prompted quickly, wiping all trace of tears from her cheeks as she stood up to face him.

      She had courage, this young woman, Alejandro acknowledged even as he felt discomforted by her crying.

      She was very young, of course, ten years younger than his own thirty-five years, and in challenging him she had not chosen her fight wisely; once Alejandro was sure of Miguel’s paternity, there had never been any doubt that he would claim the boy as his own.

      Nevertheless, he was not completely unmoved by her tears, or the fact that her sadness gave her an air of fragile beauty, with her eyes now almost navy in colour against the pallor of her cheeks. Her red hair was lifted and secured off the long, creamy expanse of her neck to give her an air of vulnerability that had been evident in none of their previous encounters.

      His mouth firmed. ‘You are upset.’ He stated the obvious. ‘You perhaps wish for me to arrange for your immediate return to England?’

      Her chin rose defiantly. ‘You would like that, wouldn’t you?’

      His nostrils flared impatiently. ‘I would like to put an end to these—disagreements, yes.’

      ‘I’ll just bet you would!’ She gave a humourless laugh. ‘No can do, sorry,’ she added derisively. ‘I intend staying on here for the duration!’

      ‘Dios mío!’ Alejandro bit out his frustration with her stubbornness, and his hands clenched at his sides. ‘Do not try me too far, Brynne,’ he warned harshly. ‘I make a much better friend than I do an enemy!’

      ‘Friend’? The word echoed incredulously in Brynne’s head while she acknowledged that he had used her given name for the first time in their acquaintance. That familiarity aside, there was no way she and this man could ever be friends!

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