The Pregnant Mistress. Sandra Marton

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СКАЧАТЬ he waited, ended the conversation and started towards her again, but the fates were against him. When Rafe called his name, what else could he do but respond? They’d been friends for years. Still, once they’d gone through the hellos and how have you beens, Demetrios decided to be blunt. You could do that, with a man.

      “Rafe,” he said, with a little smile, “let’s catch up on old times later. Tomorrow, perhaps. How does that sound?”

      Rafe grinned and clapped him on the back. “It sounds as if you have your eye on someone. Who is she?”

      Demetrios grinned, too. “I don’t know her name yet. I’ve only seen her.”

      “Well, point her out. What sort of friend would I be if I couldn’t help?”

      “She’s right…” There, he started to say, but she wasn’t. He glimpsed a flash of green silk, nothing more. The mystery woman had faded into the darkness of the terrace. “She was right there. Never mind.” He smiled. “There are some things a man should do for himself.”

      “And I’m sure you’ll succeed,” Rafe said, smiling back. “Nick says you used to put him to shame, in the old days.”

      “I’m glad he admits it, but then, he’s an old married man now.”

      “Happily married,” Rafe said, and cleared his throat. “As I am. And I’m sure you will be, too, when you find the right woman.”

      Demetrios could almost hear his mental alarm start ringing. The expression on Rafe’s face had become serious. No, he thought, no. Surely a friend would not try to…

      “So,” Rafe said, far too briskly, “have you met all my wife’s family?”

      “Marriage has dulled your brain.” Demetrios grinned. “I’ve done business with Jonas, remember? At Espada, where I met his wife and sons. And, of course, I know Nick’s Amanda, and your beautiful Carin.”

      “Then, uh, then the only one of the Barons you haven’t met is Sam.”

      “Sam?” Demetrios frowned. “I don’t recall Jonas having a son named Sam.”

      “No, no. Sam is short for Samantha.”

      “Ah,” Demetrios said, as if he understood when, in fact, he hadn’t the slightest idea what his friend was talking about. “I knew the old man had a stepdaughter, but—”

      “Sam isn’t Jonas’s daughter.” Rafe cleared his throat again. “Samantha isn’t actually a Baron. She is a Brewster. My wife’s youngest sister.”

      “Ah,” Demetrios said again, and glanced towards the terrace. Was she still out there? She had to be. He had to meet her. In a room filled with beauty, hers had shone as brightly as the beacon that marked the anchorage of his private island in the Aegean. “Rafe, my friend—”

      “Sam is here, somewhere. Why don’t you let me find her and introduce you?”

      Hell. That was what this was all about. Rafael Alvares, who bred world-class horses and captained a Brazilian financial empire, had been given the role of matchmaker. It was pathetic, what happened to a man, once a woman put a ring through his nose.

      “That sounds, uh, it sounds wonderful,” Demetrios said heartily. “But, ah, but I have to step out for a moment.” He patted the pocket where he kept his cell phone. “I have to, uh, to make a call to New York. And it’s so noisy in here…”

      “You’ll like her. I know you will.”

      “Yes. Well, I’m sure I would, but—”

      “She’s your type of woman.”

      “Really.” Demetrios raised an eyebrow.

      “Absolutely. You might not think so, at first. Sam is a challenge.”

      Meaning, she was bad-tempered.

      “She’s hot-tempered, with a mind of her own.”

      Meaning, no man had yet been found who could tolerate her. Demetrios had come to understand the language of those who wanted to end his happy bachelorhood. That the words should spew from the mouth of a friend didn’t make them any less deadly.

      “She sounds…fascinating,” he said politely. “And I’m certain she is as beautiful as your wife.”

      Rafe seemed to think about it. “No,” he said, after a minute, “I must admit, Sam doesn’t look anything like Carin. She doesn’t look like Amanda, either.”

      Worse and worse. His old friend was trying to fix him up with an over-the-hill grouch who bore a man’s name and had none of the beauty of her sisters.

      “Well,” Demetrios said, lying through his teeth, “she sounds delightful—but I have to make that call. And I see some people I know. Let me make the call, say hello, and then I’ll certainly get back to you so you can introduce me to your sister-in-law.”

      Rafe sighed. “No, you won’t.”

      “Don’t give me that look. I’m not trying to, ah, to avoid meeting this—this paragon. I simply—”

      “You’re simply not ready to lose your beloved freedom.” Rafe’s sigh became a smile. “It’s all right, Demetrios. I said as much to Carin, but she insisted you and Sam would be a perfect match. What can I tell you, my friend? You know how women are.”

      “All too well,” Demetrios said, sighing with relief. “That’s why I’m happy to remain single.”

      Rafe walked away. He started towards the terrace only to be waylaid yet again, this time by a blonde with whom he’d had a long-forgotten liaison.

      “Darling,” she squealed, and he kissed her cheek when she tilted her face to his, but there was a limit to his patience.

      “Forgive me,” he said, with a show of teeth he hoped would appear to be a smile, “but I really must—”

      And then a hint of fragrance drifted towards him. Jasmine? Lilac?

      “Hello.”

      The voice was soft, husky, and touched with amusement. Demetrios felt all his senses go on alert. Only one woman at this party had the power to turn him on with a simple word; he knew, instantly, it was she. He turned slowly, wondering if the reality of her would match his fantasies…

      Yes. God, yes. She was more than beautiful. She was magnificent. Eyes a man could get lost in. A mouth that begged to be kissed. Hair that glinted with the fire of the sun.

      “How lovely you are,” he said softly.

      She laughed. “How direct you are.”

      “I’ve been watching you. And you’ve been watching me. Why should either of us pretend?” He moved a step closer. “I’ve spent the entire evening trying to get to your side.”

      She smiled and held out a glass. Until then, he hadn’t even noticed that she held one in each hand, both filled with crushed ice and pale СКАЧАТЬ