Latin Lovers: Passionate Spaniards: The Spaniard's Marriage Demand / Kept by the Spanish Billionaire / The Spanish Doctor's Convenient Bride. Maggie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
In the end you longed for the release. That longing dictated that he couldn’t let her go—that any move she made to put any kind of distance between them would have to be diverted because now he was determined to have her at all costs. His friend Benito’s hotel was just a few kilometres away. The man was one of Leandro’s oldest friends and implicitly understood his need for privacy. There would be no danger of the paparazzi getting wind that he was staying there. Leandro would have all night to seduce Isabella and enjoy her company. Now the idea had entered his head, it quickly became a fixation. ‘I want you to come with me. Now that it comes down to it, I find I cannot let you go.’
As seductive and flattering as his declaration was, Isabella knew she could not simply succumb to his request because he had expressed it so forcefully. Did she really want to risk having her heart broken by this man? Because right now, from where she was standing, that was a distinct possibility. She’d never met a man who was so hard to resist and frankly it scared the daylights out of her. Especially so since she was still feeling vulnerable over the mistake she’d made over Patrick.
‘I really can’t stay, Leandro.’ Isabella’s throat tightened unbearably. ‘I need to get back to my hotel before—’
‘I do not accept that you cannot stay!’
He crushed her mouth beneath his own, in that blind, heated moment of desire, not caring that he might bruise her too tender lips or scratch her delicate skin with his beard-roughened jaw. All Leandro knew was that the need to touch her was a compulsion he could not resist …The need to feel her soft, womanly body in his arms and breathe in all the utterly feminine scents that threatened to make him slowly lose his mind was the one driving imperative that he could not ignore. Isabella had been driving him slowly crazy with want, all evening. When he finally and abruptly released her, her dark eyes were as large and as liquid as a startled doe’s and several strands of ebony silk had escaped in a riot of soft tendrils from her pony-tail.
Catching her hand, Leandro calculatingly employed his most devastating smile.
‘It is just one night. Isabella …one night. We can sleep together in a comfortable bed and really get to know each other. Tomorrow night you will be in a different place again, in a different bed—perhaps in one of the refugios where there is scant comfort—and you will think of me and perhaps wonder what it might have been like between us had you agreed to come with me tonight. Life is too short for regrets—do you not agree?’
Isabella’s heart nearly stopped beating at the look that came her way from his seductive grey eyes. Her feet still hadn’t touched the ground since his almost savagely passionate kiss and the pure devastation it had wrought inside her. No man had ever kissed her with such barely controlled desire …And suddenly Isabella knew that she didn’t want Leandro Reyes to be her one big regret. She wanted to look back in years to come and think how fortunate she was that fate had decreed that their paths should cross. She might never experience such burning passion with anyone ever again after this and the irresistible connection she had with Leandro would have to sustain her for the rest of her life if that turned out to be the case …Slipping the strap of her canvas bag awkwardly over her shoulder, she acknowledged his too seductive remark with a hot flurry of excitement and trepidation inside her breast. Her legs were shaking as she spoke.
‘I agree that life is too short for regrets. But I want you to know that if I go with you, this isn’t the kind of thing I make a habit of doing.’
‘Of course.’ His eyes danced with disturbing amusement. ‘Let me call my friend and arrange for a car to pick us up, then I will pay Señor Varez for our meal and we will go.’
Leandro had left her alone to settle into their room. He was downstairs talking to his friend Benito, who had welcomed Isabella with indisputable warmth yet had still maintained a respectful distance. She had quaked inside when she’d seen where Leandro had brought her. Looming out of the rainy night, the hotel resembled an imposing fortress belonging to the Conquistadors. Now, trying to absorb every feature and facet of the seriously opulent room they’d been given, Isabella glanced down at her rain-splattered shirt and jeans and knew she probably looked a million miles away from the kind of prosperous and well-heeled guests that must stay here.
But, shoring up her sudden anxiety about her appearance, she reminded herself that Leandro obviously felt right at home in his own similar clothing and did not give the slightest indication that he was concerned he might be underdressed. Isabella released her breath on a long, low whistle. By all rights she should be dropping with tiredness after her day’s hike, but instead she seemed to be infused with a thrumming restless energy that didn’t show any sign of dissipating. As she had mounted the wide curved staircase that led to their room, in the wake of a smiling chambermaid, her legs had been distinctly shaky. The prospect of sleeping with Leandro was dominating all her senses and part of her felt like running away because the reality of that event seemed just too overwhelming to be borne.
He had promised her that he would join her ‘very soon’ after he had spent a little time with his friend and Isabella’s tummy had been performing dizzying cartwheels ever since. Now, glancing around the breathtaking and spacious room with its burnt ochre walls, arched stone windows and stately four-poster bed with its luxurious gold satin counterpane, she desperately strove to stay calm.
She was fighting a losing battle. Isabella had just agreed to spend the night with a highly charismatic, good-looking Spanish film director and it was a quite unbelievable event that could not be treated with anything less than extreme trepidation. Since she’d broken up with Patrick three months ago, she hadn’t even dated another man—let alone agreed to spend the night! Dammit! She had a perfect right to be nervous! There was no way she could have anticipated such a disturbing possibility as this to occur.
After calling off her wedding, she’d vowed to herself that from now on she would be concentrating on fulfilling her dream of being a writer—not searching for the grande passion that had so far eluded her in life. That could come later, she’d promised herself …if she was lucky. And if not—then there would be other passions equally enthralling. She had always wanted to live an extraordinary life, and going out on a limb against all her family’s advice to write a book and travel to Northern Spain to research it and walk the Camino was just the start. But now, with the prospect of Leandro knocking at the door at any moment, life was quickly going from extraordinary to just plain unbelievable!
Throwing her bag onto the luxurious bed, Isabella hurried into the bathroom to freshen up. A myriad divine scents assailed her as she entered and she saw that everything a discerning guest could possibly require had been provided in abundance. Crossing to the large porcelain basin complete with gold taps, she splashed some cool water on her face and patted it dry with the pristine white hand towel that hung on a large gold ring beside it. Pulling her rain-dampened hair free from its band, she shook it out over her shoulders as she stared at her reflection in the ornate oval mirror. Her glance settled upon the two bright spots of colour glowing on her cheeks and she voiced her impatience out loud. She hated it that she blushed so easily! A shy virginal schoolgirl could probably muster up more composure than Isabella could right now!
God only knew what Emilia would think of the whole affair …But even as she entertained the unwanted thought, Isabella knew with certainty that she wouldn’t be revealing the fact that she’d met Leandro Reyes to her sister. Duplicity wasn’t in her nature, but this was one occasion when she would not be in a hurry to relate the true facts to anyone. And that meant that Emilia would have to go without her information on the Spanish film director—because it definitely wasn’t going to be forthcoming from Isabella.
She squared it with her conscience by reminding herself that Leandro had specifically got her to promise that she would not relate any details of their meeting for her sister to print in her magazine and all he had talked about was the Camino anyway, and not himself. She was certain that would be of little interest to someone like Emilia, whose meat and drink relied more on any juicy titbits she could find out about a celebrity’s personal life rather than their interest in more esoteric subjects. In fact, when Isabella had told her sister that she was going to Spain to research a book on the Santiago de Compostela, Emilia had professed