Mistress to the Mediterranean Male. Кэрол Мортимер

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      Idiot!

      He was hot, he was thirsty, and not a little tired of the verbal fencing that took place every time he was anywhere near this woman.

      He stepped back. ‘I will sit by the pool with Miguel until you come down to join him,’ he said dismissively.

      Brynne looked up at Alejandro from beneath her dark lashes. What had happened just now? Some sort of electric shock to add to her increasing awareness of him. It had been a moment, a very brief moment, when everything had seemed clearer, sharper, when it had almost felt as if she could feel and hear the beat of Alejandro’s heart.

      Which was pretty ridiculous when the man didn’t have a heart!

      If he did then he wouldn’t continue to be so unreasonable where Michael was concerned, and would be as eager as she was to make all of this as painless as possible for his six-year-old son.

      Besides, if he did have a heart, it would make her unwanted response to him all the more dangerous!

      ‘I assume my joining you and Michael by the pool will no doubt free you to disappear on some important business or other?’ she questioned.

      The thinning of his sculpted lips showed his impatience. ‘You already know I have business interests here,’ he bit out curtly.

      ‘Don’t let us keep you from them, then,’ Brynne taunted.

      His eyes narrowed to silver slithers. ‘You are a guest in my home, Brynne, and as such you will be treated with respect and courtesy. But as I warned you once before, do not push me too far, or you may not like the consequences!’

      She probably wouldn’t, Brynne acknowledged ruefully, having no doubts that Alejandro could make life a lot more uncomfortable for her than she could for him if he chose to do so. She was sure the slightly cruel curl she occasionally saw to his lips could very easily be put into action.

      Except she had no intention of being in the least cowed by this man. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ she drawled. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to go through to my bedroom and unpack a few of my own things before coming down to the pool …’ she dismissed.

      A dismissal he definitely didn’t like, by the look of his glittering eyes and the tensing of his shoulders as he strode forcefully from the room.

      She was infuriated by the effect Alejandro Santiago had on her, and never felt in the least relaxed in his company. In fact, her skin seemed to prickle every time she was anywhere near him, almost as if she had been stung by nettles or lots of little insects.

      She was also filled, at every opportunity, with a burning desire to shake him out of that cold arrogance with which he seemed to cloak himself.

      Unless it wasn’t a cloak …

      But surely it had to be? Brynne simply couldn’t see fun-loving Joanna having fallen for someone who was so cold and remote.

      It had to be a shield of some sort, a way of hiding the man he was underneath.

      At least, she hoped for Michael’s sake that was what it was …

      CHAPTER THREE

      ALEJANDRO was glad he was wearing dark sunglasses to shield the surprise he felt when Brynne stepped out onto the terrace ten minutes later wearing only a very brief turquoise bikini.

      It hadn’t been apparent in the tailored trousers and fitted blouses she invariably wore, but, as Alejandro could quite clearly see now, Brynne Sullivan had a spectacularly beautiful body.

      Absolutely, perfectly beautiful, with skin a creamy gold colour all over, her legs long and slender, hips curvaceous below her tiny waist, and her breasts pert beneath the clinging turquoise material.

      But it was a beauty she seemed completely unaware of as she strolled across to where he sat, her hips swaying gracefully as she walked.

      Alejandro, however, was very aware of it as he felt an unexpected throb in his own body!

      ‘You’re free to go now,’ she told him coolly as she settled herself down on the lounger next to his.

      Her scathing tone instantly dampened anything but the anger this woman always aroused in him. ‘I intend to,’ he snapped as he swung his feet down onto the tiled terrace. ‘Dinner will be served at eight-thirty—’

      ‘That’s far too late for Michael,’ she protested with a firm shake of her head.

      It probably was, he acknowledged irritably, not having given too much thought to the changes Miguel was going to make to his daily routine. The fact that he had a son at all was still a source of surprise to him. Not that he thought for a moment that Brynne had even considered this—she seemed to think he was totally without emotions.

      His reaction minutes ago to the way she looked in a bikini had told Alejandro quite the contrary!

      But he did have several telephone calls to make before this evening’s meal—at least one of which would no doubt be lengthy.

      ‘Perhaps I can have a word with the cook so that she can prepare Michael something earlier than that?’ Brynne decided to take pity on Alejandro’s obvious frustration. ‘Michael is usually in bed by eight o’clock.’ Although that would no doubt be changed and adapted now that Michael was to take up a Mediterranean lifestyle …

      But not tonight, she decided as she watched him swimming in the pool with the agility of a fish. He would be worn out by the early evening, and there had already been enough changes in his young life for one day. Michael needed some of his usual routine in order that everything shouldn’t spiral completely out of control.

      ‘That would be best, I think.’ Alejandro gave an abrupt inclination of his head as he turned to leave.

      ‘Tell me,’ Brynne murmured dryly as she looked up at him, ‘who was going to look after Michael if I hadn’t been here?’ she taunted.

      Alejandro’s mouth tightened. ‘I had arranged for Maria’s daughter—Maria is the cook,’ he explained dismissively, ‘—to be with him.’

      Brynne grimaced. ‘Yet another stranger.’

      ‘Brynne, you do not—’ Alejandro broke off, frowning down at her, his jaw once again tight, which emphasized the haughty planes of his face. ‘This is—new territory, for all of us,’ he finally said quietly. ‘I suggest that you give us all time to—adjust.’

      ‘By “us” you presumably mean you,’ she dismissed. ‘I have been taking care of Michael quite capably for the last two months.’

      Alejandro drew in a ragged breath. ‘Do you intend arguing with me for the whole of your stay here?’

      ‘Probably,’ she replied; after all, Michael’s welfare was all she was interested in.

      Although she had to say that Alejandro Santiago seemed less—alien, in these surroundings, his dark good looks more suited to this climate. In fact, she was the one, with her red hair and pale complexion, who was out of place. Which was one of the reasons she felt increasingly defensive.

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