The Mediterranean Millionaire's Reluctant Mistress. Carole MortimerЧитать онлайн книгу.
Alejandro felt in the company of this woman was now to be accompanied by indigestion after every meal, too!
He thought longingly of his well-ordered life of two months ago. Before he had discovered Miguel was his son. Before the maddeningly outspoken Brynne Sullivan had entered, and then refused to leave, his life.
He nodded abruptly. ‘As you wish.’
‘Oh, it’s not as I wish at all, Alejandro,’ she told him derisively. ‘You wouldn’t be here if wishes really did come true!’
No one had ever spoken to him before in the way that this woman did, Alejandro realized irritably. The honesty he had praised earlier was one thing, but Brynne seemed to have no qualms whatsoever in saying whatever came into her head!
Her beautiful head, he accepted with a frown.
‘Brynne—’
‘Aunty Bry!’ Michael greeted excitedly from the pool as he swam to the side to grin up at them, his dark hair slicked back from his face. ‘Are you coming in, Aunty Bry?’
‘Of course I am, darling.’ With one last mocking lift of her brows in Alejandro’s direction, Brynne moved gracefully to her feet, and reached up to pull the clip from her hair to let it fall loosely over her shoulders and down her spine.
Alejandro felt as if time stood still as he watched the wild tumble of titian locks. The sun caught their fiery silkiness, showing gold amongst the red, giving the effect of a living flame.
He knew Brynne was a schoolteacher, but she was unlike any schoolteacher he had ever known during his years of education!
‘I will see you both later,’ he snapped tersely before turning to stride forcefully back into the villa.
Work, he told himself firmly as he resisted the lure of staying by the swimming pool to watch Brynne and Miguel. He had been away for three days, and had numerous calls and messages waiting to be dealt with.
And that was before he even attempted to placate the other trouble-causing woman in his life—Antonia …!
‘Well, isn’t this cosy?’ Brynne said dryly as she looked down the length of the dinner table to where her host sat in remote solitude at the other end of the twelve-foot-long table.
He looked magnificent, of course, if a little overdressed for dining with someone he considered an unwelcome guest at best. The black evening suit and crisp snowy-white shirt gave his haughty good looks a rakish appeal she could well have done without.
Not having known whether or not she was supposed to dress for dinner, but having had a feeling that she probably was, Brynne was wearing what she considered her trusty little black dress, a light knee-length sheath of a dress with ribbon shoulder straps that complemented the light tan she had already managed to acquire during her hours beside the pool earlier today.
Michael, at least, was having a wonderful time in the novelty of his new home, and had fallen asleep within minutes of Brynne putting him to bed.
Her gaze narrowed on her host. ‘Did you go up and say goodnight to Michael?’
Alejandro gave an inward sigh; dinner really was to become as much a battleground as every other encounter with this woman!
‘He had already fallen asleep by the time I went upstairs,’ he said briskly, sure this was yet another black mark against him as far as Brynne Sullivan was concerned. The way her eyes flashed deeply blue told him he was right in his surmise.
‘Then perhaps you should have gone upstairs earlier than you did,’ she replied disapprovingly.
Critical as well as outspoken; it was not a comfortable combination in a woman!
‘Perhaps I should,’ he rasped. ‘But—’ He broke off in frustration as Maria arrived with their first course.
‘Thank you,’ Brynne said as she turned to smile at the tiny Majorcan woman. She had spent a pleasant hour in the kitchen with Maria earlier as Michael ate his tea, the two of them managing to converse a little in Brynne’s schoolgirl Spanish and the small smattering of English the middle-aged woman had acquired from the tourists that flocked to this beautiful island every year.
The language barrier certainly hadn’t been an obstacle to Maria’s obvious affection for children as she had chatted to and smiled at Michael at every opportunity.
Brynne’s smile faded as the tiny woman left the room and she turned to find Alejandro watching her with unreadable grey eyes. ‘I’m sure Michael would like to see some of the island while I’m here, so perhaps I could have the use of a car tomorrow?’ she suggested in a businesslike manner, having decided earlier that the novelty of the pool would wear off if that was all Michael had to do all day.
Besides, getting out and about on the island also meant getting away from the unnervingly handsome Alejandro Santiago!
‘I will put the limousine and driver at your disposal—’
‘That’s hardly the same as being able to drive myself about, now, is it?’ Brynne protested, having eaten some of her starter of melon and ham and found it delicious.
Alejandro’s gaze narrowed as he noted that her red hair was worn up again this evening, the flames tamed into muted fire with only a wispy fringe loose on her smooth brow. There was now a golden tan to her heart-shaped features, a peach gloss on the fullness of her lips, while the gentle arch of her neck was bare and the fragility of her slender body was emphasized by the fitted black dress.
‘I would … prefer it if you allowed my driver to take you wherever you wish to go,’ he said carefully.
Her blue eyes glittered with mockery. ‘Don’t you trust me not to disappear back to England with Michael?’ she taunted.
Alejandro’s mouth tightened. ‘I would find you if you did,’ he stated with certainty.
A frown creased her brow as she searched his face. ‘I’ll just bet that you would, too,’ she finally murmured disgustedly.
‘It is a bet you would win,’ Alejandro drawled.
She eyed him in frustration. ‘I would prefer to drive my own car so that the two of us are free to explore!’
‘I have told you Juan will be happy to take you wherever you wish to go,’ Alejandro assured firmly, having no intention of arguing any further with her on this point.
‘So Michael and I are to be virtual prisoners while we’re here, is that it?’ Brynne snapped as she put her knife and fork down on the plate and pushed it away from her, her appetite quickly disappearing.
Alejandro looked every inch the haughty Spaniard that he undoubtedly was as he gave her a quelling glance. ‘It is not a question of making the two of you prisoners—’
‘Then what is it a question of?’ Brynne demanded as she sat forward, twin spots of angry colour in her cheeks.
He gave a disgruntled snort. ‘You are a very difficult woman—’
‘Difficult I can live with,’ she assured him impatiently. ‘It’s being treated like a prisoner that I object to!’
Alejandro Santiago looked at her with obvious frustration for several seconds, his mouth in a thin disapproving line, his grey eyes glacial. ‘Very well,’ he finally said coldly. ‘You may take a car and drive wherever you wish, but I cannot allow you to take Miguel about the island unprotected!’
Brynne stared at him incredulously. What on earth—?
‘Miguel is my son, Brynne,’ Alejandro snapped impatiently.
She frowned. ‘Yes, but—’
‘I am sure that when we arrived here you noted the electric gates and high fences as we came onto the property …’
‘Well, yes … but—’
‘There are also several security guards