Читать книгу 8 Brand-New Romance Authors - Avril Tremayne - Страница 33
ОглавлениеGEORGINA’S ANXIETY LEVELS had risen tenfold since entering the hotel where Santos was having his impromptu party. Her sister, who was so excited, believing a party meant there was hope for her and Carlo to be married, had vanished from her side the moment they arrived. Georgina now felt conspicuous as she stood just inside the doorway of the hotel room.
‘Buenas noches, Ms Henshaw.’
She looked up at Santos, her breath catching as he moved closer to her. He was immaculately dressed in a dark suit and tie, the white of his shirt enhancing his attractive tan. The smile on his lips was warm and welcoming. That same warmth reached his eyes as he took her hand. The touch of his fingers as he lightly held hers made her shiver, as if a feather had been trailed down her spine.
Speak, she told herself firmly. Don’t let his act of attraction distract you.
‘Good evening, Mr Ramirez,’ she said, injecting firmness into her voice as she remembered they were not yet supposed to have met. She certainly didn’t want Emma to discover what she was about to do. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you at last.’
He quirked a brow, and she wondered if she’d gone too far, but around her they were already drawing speculative gazes. It seemed to Georgina that the elite of London society were here—and all at his request.
‘Please, call me Santos,’ he said as he lifted her hand to his lips.
Her stomach did a strange flutter as those lips brushed sensuously over the back of her hand. Stunned into silence, she was mesmerised by his dark hair as he lowered his head. The barely controlled waves of shiny black hair looked so inviting she wondered what it would feel like to run her fingers through it. Then he straightened, towering over her once more, his gaze locking with hers.
Don’t go there, she warned herself, and tried to pull back her hand, but his fingers tightened on hers. A sexy smile spread across his lips and she dragged in a ragged breath, then swallowed hard. What was she doing, allowing this man to get to her?
‘The pleasure is mine.’ His words were deep and uneven. He didn’t let her hand go, instead forcing her to stay, so that she could do nothing other than stand there. She looked into the ever darkening depths of his eyes and felt a sizzle of awareness slide over her like the slow thaw of mountain snow. Shy and flustered was something she’d never felt—but, far worse, she knew she was already out of her depth. How was she ever going to get through the evening when he turned on charm like this?
She would because she had to. She was doing this for Emma’s happiness. She clutched her bag, thinking of the few essentials she’d slipped into it, knowing she wasn’t going to be returning home that night.
She smiled, more to herself than anyone else, determined not to let this man’s charisma knock her off balance. It was all for show, and if he could do it then so could she.
‘Something is amusing you?’ His fingers traced a slow, teasing circle on the palm of her hand, making tingles race along her arm. She wanted to pull away, wanted to break the contact, yet couldn’t. Somewhere deep inside her something stirred—an emotion long since locked away.
‘I was merely admiring your charm.’ She smiled up at him, pulling herself closer against him. It felt flirty. Dangerous. ‘I’m sure women just drop at your feet.’
He laughed. A soft rumble that made her tremble. Instinctively she tried to pull her hand free. Again his fingers tightened and his eyes darkened, and for a moment her eyes locked with his. She drew in a quick breath as she saw the sparks of desire within those dark depths. Her body responded to the primal call of his as heady heat thundered around her.
‘That is always my intention, querida.’
He smiled down at her, letting her hand go so that she felt suddenly bereft of his contact—like a ship torn from its anchor to drift in the harbour.
‘Champagne?’
She blinked, not quite able to keep up with his train of thought. Glancing around her, she caught her sister’s eye as she chatted with other guests, Carlo at her side. Emma looked radiant and happy, and Georgina knew there was no going back now. Just as she had done five years ago, she had to put Emma first. She’d done it once, and she could do it again, but Emma must never know.
‘Champagne would be lovely,’ she purred, being as flirtatious as she possibly could. Maybe a little champagne was just what she needed to boost her confidence.
With his hand in the small of her back she moved into the room, aware of the curious glances being directed their way. Santos handed her a flute of champagne, but her head was becoming light, as if she’d already had several glasses of the bubbly liquid. She couldn’t quite believe how this handsome and powerful businessman was able to make her feel so special, so fresh and alive. His charm offensive was potent, making her feel unique and, worse than that, desired. If this was how he was going to play out their planned public scene of attraction she would have to be careful, remind herself it was all an act. Because right now it felt very real. And she liked it.
* * *
Santos couldn’t help but watch Georgina as she sipped her champagne. The need to act as if he were attracted to her had gone out of the window the moment she’d entered the room. He’d heard the hush, felt the ripple of interest, and had been as mesmerised by her as every other man in the room.
Still looking as proud and defiant as she had yesterday in his office, she’d stood framed in the doorway. The jade silk of her dress skimmed over her body, neither revealing nor concealing her curves. A black wrap hung loosely off her shoulders, and he’d been unable to take his eyes off the creamy expanse of her skin, broken only by the thin jade straps. Her neck was bare of any jewellery—something many of the women he knew couldn’t carry off.
Even if he hadn’t had to go up to her and start the charade of attraction he would have wanted to. The same kick of lust he’d felt yesterday had stirred in his veins once again, propelling him towards her. As he’d taken her hand, enjoying the softness of her skin, he had known he wanted her.
‘Your plan is working.’ He leant down and whispered against her hair, the fresh scent of it invading his senses, making his pulse throb with unquenched desire.
She pulled back from him, confusion filling her eyes, her fingers clutching tightly to her glass. ‘It is?’
He heard the uncertainty in her voice and had the strangest desire to stroke his fingers down her cheek. An affectionate gesture he’d never normally think of making. Just what was it about this woman that stirred something unknown deep within him?
‘With your dedication to the role, how could anyone question what they are seeing?’ She turned away, exchanging her empty glass for another bubble-filled one.
The brittleness of her words reminded him just who he was dealing with. Georgina Henshaw was an avaricious woman who, with one marriage already behind her, could play his game with as much detachment as he employed.
He watched her beautiful yet emotionless face as she scanned the room, her eyes finally resting on her sister. With a sternness that would have become any teacher her gaze followed Emma as she moved across the room, until she nestled herself against his brother.
Unable to stop himself from watching the loving moment, he saw how his brother looked down at Emma. Saw the open adoration in the young woman’s eyes. Even as Carlo dipped his head and kissed her he couldn’t avert his gaze. Whatever it was between them was so powerful he felt it from the other side of the room. Just as he had done as a youth, when Carlo’s mother had first met his father, he felt excluded. It was almost as if he’d gone back in time, watching Carlo grow strong from his mother’s love while he could only look on.
‘They make a good couple, don’t they?’
Georgina’s words dragged him back from a past he rarely visited. For a moment he was disorientated.
‘They don’t have to marry to prove that.’
He couldn’t keep the harshness from his words. Beside him Georgina stiffened, as if she was taking a step back from him. He forced his mind to more pleasant thoughts—like the way the woman at his side stirred his desires like no other.
‘I hope you aren’t going back on our deal, Mr Ramirez?’
He deflected her sharp-toned words with a smile. ‘Santos,’ he said softly, placing his arm across her shoulders and pulling her body against his, relishing the warmth of it. ‘I think you should call me Santos. If you want this to work.’
He looked down into her upturned face. Her eyes darkened until they reminded him of the depths of a forest. Her full lips parted slightly and he felt the heavy tug of desire.
He wanted her.
Slowly he lowered his head and brushed his lips over hers. Her breath mingled with his, warming his mouth, and he imagined the sensation of her sighing in pleasure. This was going to be a very interesting night.
Briefly her lips responded. Softening beneath his. And his whole body suddenly ached for hers. It was stronger than the heady lust that usually coursed through his blood when he kissed a woman. This was potent. Vibrant and alive. It was more powerful than anything he’d known before.
* * *
Georgina’s body heated as his lips touched hers, the contact so light it almost didn’t happen. Involuntarily she closed her eyes as the liquid warmth of desire slid over her. She swayed closer to him, felt his arm, strong and firm, draw her closer.
She knew there and then that he had power over her. He had the ability to stir emotions she never again wanted to explore, and she would have to be on her guard.
Her fingers clutched the stem of the glass in her hand as she hardened herself against what she was feeling. This wasn’t for real. This was all an act. And if she didn’t keep that in mind she’d make a fool of herself, because at this moment in time she wanted nothing more than to be kissed by Santos.
Not this light, lingering kiss. After several years without experiencing the intimacy of any kiss she knew he’d awakened something deep within her. She wanted more. Her body hungered for passion. To her horror, she realised her body hungered for him.
But she couldn’t let that happen. She had to stay in control—not just of herself, but of the situation. Never could she allow herself to become a woman so desperate for love that she’d beg a man to stay, as her mother had done to her father. In Santos she recognised the same inability to commit to a relationship her father had possessed. He would be the worst man for her to give her heart to.
No, to allow Santos to know just how easily he could stir her hidden and unexplored desires would be fatal.
She pulled away from him and looked into his smouldering eyes. He was good. Nobody could question what he was thinking right now. He looked as if he wanted to ravish her right there in the middle of the party.
A tingle raced around her at the thought and her breathing deepened. It was as if her body was working in opposition to her heart and her head, and it was winning.
She flirted back at him, ignoring the heavy ache of her limbs and the throb of desire deep inside her. ‘Santos, that was...’ She paused and looked beyond him into the throng of partygoers who mingled around them, looked to her sister. ‘Amazing,’ she finished, hoping he’d think the husky note in her voice was part of her act and not something she had little or no control over—a reaction to him.
‘Amazing, huh?’
His voice was deeper and his accent, which had only been a hint before, much stronger. He sounded sexy. Too sexy.
‘Definitely. Emma looks so shocked. I’m certain she’ll believe there is something between us.’ She moved against him as she spoke, felt the firmness of his body and tried to ignore the sizzle of electricity zipping around hers.
‘And what about you, querida? Do you believe it?’
He smiled down at her, pulling her just a little closer, so that she could feel her breasts pressing against his chest. Her breath caught in her throat and for a moment she couldn’t say a word.
Focus, she reminded herself. Focus on why you’re even here with him.
‘I believe we look convincing.’ She hated the way her voice stammered, and to hide it lifted her chin and raised a brow at him.
He laughed. A soft sound she felt rumbling against her. It was all too close, too personal. She tried to step back from him but he pressed his hand firmly into the small of her back, bringing her hip close against him.
She gasped as she felt the hardness of his arousal, and nerves made her heart beat wildly—so hard she could feel the pulse in her neck throbbing. His dark eyes, smouldering with desire, met hers.
‘I too am convinced.’
His voice was a harsh whisper as he spoke against her ear, his breath blowing on her neck, making it tingle.
‘I am also convinced that now would be a good time to leave this damned party.’
She turned her head towards him, intending to speak, to try and douse the fire that had ignited between them. A fire she could never allow to burn. Her cheek touched his as he lowered his head and, following some kind of instinct she’d never before experienced, she moved until his lips were against hers.
Briefly her gaze locked with his, then her eyelids fluttered closed as the pressure of his lips met hers. The kiss was hard, demanding much more. She wound her arms around his neck, one hand still clutching her empty champagne flute, and gave herself up to the mastery of this man’s kiss. Her lips and her body asked for more and he responded, making her heart thump hard.
His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers. He tasted wild and untamed. She sighed, making him deepen the kiss, and he began to invade every cell of her body with a heady desire she’d never known before.
Heaven help her, she wanted this man. Wanted him in a way she hadn’t known was possible.
Just when she thought she couldn’t remain standing against him any longer he broke the kiss. She slid her arms down slowly from his neck and he took the glass from her hand, putting it on a nearby table. Cool air rushed around her as their bodies parted and she felt exposed, naked, as if everyone in the room would be able to see just how much her body wanted his.
Santos’s gaze slid over her, just as it had done when she’d entered the room, but this time her skin sizzled. When it lingered on her breasts her knees weakened and breathing was suddenly the hardest thing to do. She was transfixed, unable to move, unable to hide from his open desire.
Around them the noise of the party slowly came back to her and she was thankful that they were not alone. What would she have done if they were?
She’d have made a big mistake, that was what. She would have allowed passion and champagne to take over, allowed them to destroy everything, exposing emotions and leaving her vulnerable. She’d seen it with her mother, knew the consequences, and had promised herself she’d never allow that to happen to her.
‘We leave now.’
His voice, though still deep and throaty, radiated total command and, afraid hers would sound weak and trembling, she nodded in agreement.
With his hand possessively in the small of her back he propelled her towards the door. Partygoers stepped aside for them. Envious glances from women came her way. The cool façade she lived behind slipped firmly back into place. She lifted her chin, smiled, and walked proudly at Santos’s side.
What would they think if they knew the truth? Would they gasp in shock at the calculated plan she was acting out?
‘Georgie?’ Emma’s voice filtered through the defensive wall she’d quickly rebuilt, despite the hum of her body.
She looked into her sister’s face and saw genuine happiness. It shone from her eyes so brightly that she knew she was doing the right thing. She touched Emma’s arm and gave her a secretive smile. The smile of a woman who was being swept away by the most magnetic man she’d ever met.
‘I’ll call you in the morning.’
Emma’s smile widened and she looked from her to Santos and back again. ‘Okay.’ She grinned and turned to leave, obviously in a hurry to tell Carlo.
‘Let’s go,’ Georgina said, without looking at Santos. The taste of deception was strong in her mouth.
‘I like it.’
His voice purred like a big cat content to take it easy for a while. He led her out of the noise of the party into the hotel foyer. The lights were brighter—too bright—as if she was now under his spotlight. His gaze slid down her again, desire still sparking in his eyes despite the latent control in his voice.
‘What do you like?’ she questioned sharply as he began to lead her out onto the streets. She shivered against the cold autumn air.
‘Georgie.’
Emma’s pet name for her sounded so exotic on his lips—sexy, even. Her body heated despite the wind, which blew her hair quickly into disarray. She combed her fingers through it, gathering it at her neck, trying to prevent herself from becoming a totally dishevelled mess.
‘I prefer Georgina,’ she said, trying to ignore the way her body hummed as he took her hand and pulled her close against him. Was this what it was like to be protected?
Minutes later she was in the back of his chauffeur-driven car. The light from the streetlamps cast a glow around the interior and she glanced at Santos, startled to find he was watching her intently.
She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, unable to look into the heat of his eyes.
‘You are a very beautiful woman.’
Georgina tensed. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. ‘You can drop the act now.’ Her words were stiff and she looked up at his face. The angles of his cheekbones were severe in the ever-changing light.
‘I’m enjoying the role.’ His deep voice seemed to ripple around the car, sending pinpricks of heat rushing over her. ‘And you never know who may be listening or watching.’
Georgina glanced at the chauffeur, who appeared to be concentrating on driving. She heard Santos laugh softly and her gaze flew to meet his once more. He really was charming—but on a lethal level. Somewhere deep inside her she recognised him as the kind of man who could hurt her or, worse, destroy her. He was the same type of devil-may-care man her mother had fallen for time and time again, and exactly like her father.
‘You don’t really think I’ll buy that, do you?’ She raised a brow at him, infusing indifference into her body with each syllable.
Cool and aloof. That was the protection she needed.
‘My staff are nothing but discreet,’ he replied as the car came to a stop outside some very exclusive riverside apartments.
‘That is a relief—but then I suppose I’m just another on a very long list as far as they are concerned.’ The haughty demeanour she routinely hid behind sounded in her voice, and from the look on his face, the frown that furrowed his brow, she knew she’d scored a direct hit.
With one final look at her he got out of the car, almost instantly appearing at her door. He held out his hand for her, but the look on his face suggested he was far from happy. For a moment she was worried. Had she pushed things just a little too far, taunting him like that? A man like him was used to people pandering to his ego.
She had the sudden urge to bolt past him and run away. Reason followed swiftly. She wouldn’t help her sister like that, and the shoes she was wearing certainly hadn’t been created for running.
‘If you want to drop this charade you can go home now.’ His voice was rough, edged with exasperation. ‘But just remember, querida, it was your idea.’
He was right. She had started this and she would finish it—but only when she knew her sister could marry the man she loved without any implications from this power-hungry man who now stood waiting for her, looking devastatingly sexy. Did he really mean to keep this up, even in private?
For a moment she wondered if she’d already done enough. They’d been seen leaving the party together. Then she remembered Emma’s smile, the hope that had shone from her eyes. Georgina realised that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought, whether they believed their whirlwind romance was real. It only mattered what Emma thought. There was no way she could let her sister think that yet again she was marrying to secure her future. Emma was all she cared about.
She could do this—even if it meant continuing with the charade of attraction.
Taking his hand, she stepped out of the car and looked up at the tall modern building. She’d never given any thought to where he might live, but the clean, precise lines of this apartment block didn’t surprise her.
‘I suppose you have the top floor, complete with river views?’
‘Very perceptive of you.’
His voice had lowered to a steely tone, interwoven with charm, and her stomach fluttered irrationally.
‘It seems you do know something about me after all.’
Yes, I do. I know too much. I know you have an abundance of charm and the ability to break a woman’s heart.
‘It was merely an observation.’ Georgina kept the words light as he gestured her towards the entrance of the building. She was beginning to feel disorientated by him, by his seductive tone and sexy smiles. She couldn’t allow that to happen. As far as she was concerned once his name was on their marriage certificate and her sister was married all contact would be severed. She had no intention of becoming a real wife. Whatever motivation was behind that absurd request she would find a way out of it. She had to.
The lift doors closed on them with expensive silence and as they were taken upwards she kept her eyes straight ahead, watching the doors, not daring to look at him or at their reflection, which seemed to mock her from all sides. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, but refused to meet it. She didn’t dare. He was still acting the part of an attracted and attentive man and it was beginning to stir emotions she’d long since locked away.
She almost let out a sigh of relief as the lift doors opened. The opulence of the corridor wasn’t lost on her. He wrapped his arm around her, so her elbow nestled in the palm of his hand, and she moved towards the door of his apartment, a sense of dread filling her.
‘Do we really need to take it this far?’ The words left her in a rush, before she’d had time to consider them.
He stopped outside the white double doors to his apartment, his arm still around her, keeping her close. She looked up at him, desperate to keep calm. He mustn’t know just how unnerved he made her feel.
‘Yes—if you want authenticity you need to be seen leaving here tomorrow morning.’ Amusement lightened his eyes before he turned to open the doors.
‘We could have just stayed at the hotel...’ She clutched at the idea, not daring to cross the threshold, not wanting to be alone with him—especially on his territory.
‘On the contrary.’ He smiled that heart-stopping smile that could very easily make her think she was the only woman he saw, the only woman he wanted. ‘To bring you here gives a clear message to everyone who knows me—including my brother.’
With his arm firmly around her, he walked into the apartment. She had no choice but to go too. Her heels clicked on a marble floor and the low lighting hinted at a very sparse and masculine living space.
‘I don’t understand...’ The words rushed out on an unsteady breath as he finally moved away from her. At least she could breathe properly, now he wasn’t so close.
Dropping his keys onto a table, he took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a large black leather sofa. Unable to keep her eyes off him, she watched as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Dark tanned skin drew her eyes and she had to force herself to look away.
‘I never bring a woman back to my apartment.’
The implication of his words sank in. He was giving a very clear message—not just to Carlo, but to her. He wanted the business so badly he was prepared not only to accept her proposal of marriage, but to do everything to make it look real. Even appear to cast aside his womanising reputation and ways and take her as his wife.
‘I should be honoured, then,’ she replied flippantly, in an attempt to hide her thoughts.
He might be able to discard the way he lived for the sake of his business, but she couldn’t quite let slip the distant demeanour she hid behind. After all, it wasn’t a business she was doing it for, but the love of her sister.
‘The first woman to spend a night here with you?’
* * *
Santos flicked on a light, wanting to see Georgina’s face better. In fact he wanted to see more than just her face. All evening her soft skin had teased his senses—so much so that he’d done the one thing he never did with any woman. He’d kissed her publicly. Not just a light brush of lips on lips either, but a desire-laden kiss that held a promise of passion and satisfaction.
‘More champagne?’
He should just be showing her to her room, as he’d intended when he’d formed this bizarre back-up plan yesterday. But even then, as she’d stood so proudly in his office, he’d found the cocktail of icy control laced with underlying passion tempting. Too tempting. And challenging. What man could refuse such a challenge?
‘No, thanks.’
Her frosty tone made it clear the ice maiden was back. He watched as she walked across the room to look down on the Thames, at the city’s lights reflected in the dark water.
Ordinarily, if he’d taken a woman back to a hotel suite, he wouldn’t be thinking of any kind of drink. He would be enjoying holding her, kissing her, and thinking only of satisfying their sexual needs. But this was different.
It unnerved him, but he quickly pushed the notion to the back of his mind. It was different simply because of the deal they’d struck. Never before had he spent time with a woman for any other reason than that he wanted to.
‘Coffee?’
‘No, thanks.’ She turned to face him. ‘We both know this isn’t for real, and there isn’t anyone here to witness anything more, so can we just say goodnight and go to bed—separately?’
He raised his brows at that last word and was rewarded with a light flush to her cheeks, giving her an air of innocence. Their eyes met and for a moment it was as if everything hung in the balance. Boldly she held his gaze. Did she have any idea how magnificent she looked? A glacial beauty with barely concealed simmering passion.
‘I’ll show you to your room.’
He turned and broke the contact, but could feel her gaze following him. A sizzle of desire zipped through him and he gripped his hands into fists. If she could be so coldly in control, then so could he.
Her heels tapped rhythmically as she walked behind him, out of the vast open space of the living area and into a long corridor. He stopped outside a door, opened it, and reached in to flick on the light. ‘I trust this will be comfortable for you?’
Then he looked at her face, saw a moment of hesitancy in eyes which now sparkled like rich mahogany.
‘If you need anything I’ll be in here.’
He pushed open the door to the master bedroom, where the lights of the city were visible for miles through large windows.
‘I won’t need anything,’ she said, lifting her chin defiantly, and he fought hard the urge to lower his head and capture those full lips beneath his. He wanted to taste her again, to feel her mould to his body as if she were meant to be there.
‘I’ll see you in the morning, then,’ he said, and stepped away from her—away from the temptation of her body, away from the sweet seductive scent that wrapped itself around him.
In that moment he realised he was no better than his father if he couldn’t allow this woman to sleep alone. But she fired something deep within him. Something so powerful he didn’t want to ignore it.
‘Goodnight,’ she whispered. and moved into the room, using the door to shield her glorious body from his view, apprehension clear in her eyes.
Anger simmered in his blood, mixing with unquenched desire. He was worse than his father, moving from one woman to the next. Memories from childhood, of watching an endless stream of woman enter his home, surfaced like a tidal wave. Was he now just as bad, if he couldn’t walk away from Georgina?
‘Goodnight.’ His voice was harsh as he battled with emotions long since packed away.
Damn it all—this was a business arrangement, a means to an end. If he couldn’t get out of that clause in the will legally, then he would damn well take her up on her proposition. Keeping the business was his priority. Nothing else mattered. And if Georgina had offered herself as a sacrificial lamb, so be it. Soon she would be his wife, and he had no intention of saying goodnight then.
