Nine
“For what possible reason could you want me to stay?” Anna blinked rapidly, trying to figure out what Naldo was up to.
“I don’t want our affair to end.” His deep voice thrummed with assurance.
“The affair that’s causing a scandal in the local paper?”
Good humor shone in his eyes. “Exactly.”
“But I don’t understand. I thought you hated gossip and innuendo.”
“I do. But there are other things I’d hate more, like not getting to challenge you to a real tennis match. Or not getting to kiss your lips into silence again.” A smile tugged his dimple into existence.
No kisses required. Her lips had been stunned into silence.
When she found her voice again, she was frowning. “But aren’t I a reminder to everyone that your father had an affair with my mother?”
“I suppose you are.” The dimple stayed firm.
Anna’s thoughts ducked and dived like barn swallows.
Is he falling in love with me?
“I don’t really understand what you’re saying. You think I should keep the cottage and live in it?”
“Oh, no.” His expression turned more serious. “You can get a far more comfortable house in town. A new villa with a pool, perhaps? This place is old and cramped.”
Or was this some new trick to get her to sell out?
“My mom loved this cottage.”
“I know. My father tried to persuade her to move into a larger place, but she wouldn’t hear of it. Some people are just stubborn, I guess.” His eyes twinkled.
Stubborn? Try confused. Or afraid. What was he trying to pull?
He picked up her hand, and his warm skin made her fingers tingle. He brought them to his lips, and kissed them. Those firm, sensuous lips, with their arrogant tilt, sent a shiver of desire rushing through her.
“I like having you here.” He held her finger close to his lips, and she could feel his warm breath on her skin. His words stole into her consciousness and crept toward her heart.
How many times had she dreamed of hearing Naldo De Leon say he wanted her?
“But don’t you care about what people will say?”
“No.” The intensity of his black gaze stole her breath. A glance at the determined set of his lips gave her a rash urge to kiss them.
She resisted.
“Why not? I thought you-”
“I have more important things to concern myself with.”
Her lips parted as his eyes drifted down over her face. She felt her cheeks heat. He lowered his face to hers, giving her time to notice the heat of his skin, time to inhale his subtle musky scent.
Their lips came together slowly. It happened by imperceptible degrees, but the impact of skin touching skin slammed her like a car wreck. Suddenly her hands were on him, clutching at his shirt, her fingers pushing up into his hair.
His arms closed around her, holding her tight, squeezing her with a passion that made her breath catch as he kissed her with a ferocity she could never have imagined.
I love you, Naldo De Leon.
The thought never seemed to be far from her mind lately. His firm, warm embrace filled her with a surge of excitement and a shocking sense of well-being. It felt right.
But how could it be?
He wasn’t asking her to move in with him. He wasn’t asking her to marry him.
She pulled back, a painful effort that involved tearing her lips from his impassioned kiss against the urging of every cell in her body.
“You want to have an affair with me.” Her words emerged breathless. Her lips stung, still quivering with the force of his kiss.
Naldo’s narrowed eyes burned with naked lust. He blinked once, then lowered his lips over hers again, in wordless assent to her question.
She succumbed to the sensual heat of the moment, drifting in his arms, until her eyes snapped open and she pulled back again.
A pang of pain stung her heart. Naldo would never marry her. She was no pedigreed Spanish contessa. She was the illegitimate daughter of a cook and she’d never fit into Naldo’s world of three-hundred-year-old porcelain plates and four-hundred-year-old prejudices.
Sure, he wanted her. He wanted to kiss her and lick her and rub his impatient hands over her fevered skin. To strip her naked and make love to her until they both lay breathless and exhausted.
Her body ached with the desire to do those things with him, preferably right now, but her mind whispered warnings that made far too much sense.
He’ll use you. He’ll get what he wants, take his fill, then move on. And where will that leave you?
“I don’t want to be a rich man’s mistress.”
“You wouldn’t be a rich man’s mistress.” Naldo’s husky voice filled her ears.
Did he plan to ask her to be his wife?
“You’d be a rich man’s girlfriend.”
Naldo took hold of her chin with his thumb and forefinger. He tilted her face to look up at his. “And if you take my offer, you’ll be a rich man’s rich girlfriend.”
Humor still sparkled in his eyes. So confident. As if it didn’t occur to him that she would say no.
“Four million dollars. It’s yours. All you have to do is say the word.”
A shudder of powerful emotion rocked her, stinging her fingers and toes.
Love?
Fear?
Or both, shaken into a cocktail that threatened to deprive her of her senses.
“I can feel your heart beating.” Naldo placed two long, powerful fingers on the pulse at her neck. His chest pressed against hers, their hearts pounding together.
Her lips itched to touch his. To settle into the firm warmth of his kiss. To shun words that tangled into confusion as she tried to make sense of a situation that seemed so…impossible.
Too good to be true?
“I want to make love to you.” Naldo’s harsh whisper tickled her ear. Heat rippled through her, sparking a fire low in her belly.
His fingers slid down to cup her buttocks and caress them, through the smooth fabric of her dress.
Her breathing came quicker as her nipples tightened against his chest.
I want to love you.
Her stray thought was different from what he offered. One, a phrase implying something physical, transient, the other bringing with it the promise of a connection that could last a lifetime.
She swallowed hard.
His fingers slid around her leg, and sneaked up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. Her sex responded with a welcoming throb.
“Stop, please.” She forced the words from quivering lips. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to get a grip on all the sensations taking her body by storm.
Naldo’s broad hand paused on her thigh. Her skin hummed beneath his fingers.
“You know you want to.” His deep voice wrapped itself around her, thick with temptation.
“I need time to think,” she managed. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his firm embrace, even though it was the last thing she truly wanted.
