Modern Romance Collection: November 2017 Books 5 - 8. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
hand and he pulled her to her feet, then with his free hand tugged at the belt tied loosely at her waist. The cream silk slipped apart, exposing her to his hungry gaze.
‘I want nothing more than to make love to you again and again. This weekend is for us. The future can damn well wait.’
He shoved aside the agony of having that cruel confirmation that his father had never really wanted him, never really cared for him in any way. Now he knew why he’d had to put up with such a harsh upbringing, why anything he’d done had never pleased his father.
His father had never wanted him. He hadn’t been the much-sought-after son and heir. That honour had fallen to Max, the son who’d taken his name, the name he should have had, just months before he’d been born. How could he ever have competed with that? Did he want to? The question lingered in his mind.
And this woman had known that cruel fact since they’d visited his mother and had kept it from him. He bit down on the anger and allowed desire to flow through him. He needed it to forget the pain. Passion and desire made very good salves for such wounds.
‘We should go out, take a walk in the park or something.’ There was hesitancy in her voice, which only increased his suspicion that she was far from the experienced lover she wanted him to believe her to be. Even her teasing this morning hadn’t completely disguised the fact. He’d seen something in her eyes, something deep and meaningful.
Very well. He would play the part of lover and forget the real world that awaited him.
‘We can.’ He pulled her closer, feeling the heat of her body scorch his. ‘After I’ve explored your sexy body, kissed every part of it and made you cry out my name as you did early this morning.’
She blushed prettily and he kissed her, tempting her, feeling her resistance subsiding. Whatever else happened, she was his for now. But it couldn’t last. He’d never wanted sentiments and emotions in his life and, despite the new and powerful draw to her, Lydia wasn’t going to change that.
* * *
Lydia lay languidly in bed as darkness fell over Madrid, the apartment becoming the romantic place it had been last night, lit with only a few lamps. They had left the apartment to stroll around the cafés and bars in Madrid’s plaza. But the undercurrent of sexual attraction meant that neither of them had had much appetite for food. As the winter sun had given way to the night, they’d returned to the warmth of the apartment and Lydia was hardly able to believe they were still in a lovers’ limbo. She should be happy, should just enjoy it for what it was, but foolishly she wanted more—and knew it was impossible.
She’d never known such pleasure existed. Raul had shown her that lovemaking was something wonderful but she knew it wasn’t lovemaking to him. It was merely lust—overwhelming desire and passion.
The sound of Raul in the shower dragged her from dwelling too much on what could never be. For Raul she knew this whole weekend was based on desire and lust. It was more than lust for her. Could it be possible that she’d fallen for him—really fallen for him? Or was it that she still felt sorry for him, still felt the pain and vulnerability she’d seen in his eyes when she’d told him about Max? As he’d looked at her, the party going on around them, all she’d wanted was to ease that pain, to be the one to make things right for him.
This morning his lovemaking had been wild and hard, the gentle dominance of last night had turned to something more determined and Lydia had found it as exciting as their first passionate encounter. Finally, that anger had dissipated and the man who’d driven her mad with desire, making her throw caution aside and be his for the night, had returned.
She’d been bold, flirtatiously asking for more than sex, asking for something that resembled a real relationship, even though it would be only for two days. To her astonishment he had agreed and she had enjoyed his company over lunch. Had he enjoyed the day as much as her? Had he liked being a couple? And what happened now?
‘Should we go out this evening?’ She slipped from the bed and pulled on the silk dressing gown as he returned from the shower, a white towel around his hips, his hair dark with wetness. She couldn’t take her eyes from him, he looked so sexy, so handsome.
‘I think our absence from this evening’s party will say so much more than our attendance.’ The deep sultry tone of her voice made smiling coyly at him the only option, but deep down the worry still lingered that he was using her to prove something, to further his dealings with his board.
‘What did you have planned, then?’ She couldn’t believe she, of all people, was being so teasing and behaving like a seductress.
‘Other than to make love to the most beautiful English rose?’ He moved towards her and she shivered in anticipation.
‘Yes, other than that.’ With a flaunting smile she stepped past him. ‘I’d like to talk a little, get to know you better.’
He tensed, the muscles of his chest flexing, proving if nothing else that this weekend was only about sex. She turned her attention to knotting the belt in her dressing gown, desperate to hide her disappointment from him and, even more importantly, not question it herself.
‘Very well. We shall eat here and talk over a glass of wine.’
She frowned at him, wondering what it was he had planned now, because if there was one thing she’d learnt about him it was that he always had plans. Whatever those plans were she was determined to drive the conversation the way she wanted, to find out just what the future held for her and her family. Was she really clear of debt? The one question she wouldn’t ask was what the future held for them—as a couple.
‘What are you going to do—about Max?’ The question slipped from her as she lay in bed, casually trailing a finger across the fine cotton sheets.
He looked at her as he tossed aside the towel and put his clothes on, the blue shirt only highlighting the jet black of his hair. He was avoiding answering her. Was he hoping he could rid himself of Max in the same way he intended to rid himself of her?
He stood tall and proud, defiance coming off him in waves, and she knew without any doubt that it was most certainly not what he wanted. ‘I will welcome Max into my life and the family business.’
‘Because of loyalty to your father?’ She pulled the sheet against her. Such a discussion needed modesty.
‘No.’ He finished dressing and looked at her, his gaze sweeping over her, and her skin burned as if she were completely naked to his gaze. There was desire in his eyes, but also something else, something unfathomable, something very cold. ‘Out of necessity.’
The barb of his statement hit her hard and although it was powerful it at least confirmed that she and the man she’d become temporarily engaged to would soon go their separate ways. It was exactly the deal she’d made with herself as she’d given in to the temptation of desire and had truly become his lover.
‘The lesser of two evils?’ She taunted him, needing to counteract the pain she felt. Pain that came from feeling deeply for this man—far too deeply. ‘Either welcome a brother or a wife.’
‘Sí, querida. To prove I am not the heartless man my father assumed I was. He thought I’d find marriage preferable to bringing my brother into my life.’
Was he running from the truth now as she was? And what was his truth? With a heavy heart she knew it would not be that he had fallen in love with her, that he wanted more than this passionate weekend. She realised she was decidedly underdressed and vulnerability shivered over her as once again his gaze lingered on her.
‘So I am free to go?’ She dared to ask, dared to bring their lovers’ weekend crashing down around her.
His brows rose and he crossed the room towards her, his height dominating the entire room, and even though she was covered only in a sheet she looked defiantly back at him. He sat on the bed next to her, reached out and stroked the backs of his fingers across her cheek in a moment so tender, so out of place, she had to blink back the urge to cry.
‘But