Читать книгу Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride - Эбби Грин, Fiona Lowe - Страница 12

BY NINE forty-five the next morning Jane was having second, third and fourth thoughts. In the cold light of day things were more stark. She would get burned. And not from the sun. She knew it. She heard an engine outside. He was early. As if he could hear the doubts that were in her private thoughts. Which was ridiculous.

She took a deep breath and waited for the doorbell to sound. She was wearing simple shorts, flip-flops and a plain T-shirt. If he wanted her then he could have her as she was, unadorned.

She lifted the small weekend bag that she had brought to carry home gifts, and suddenly it felt as if it held rocks instead of clothes and toiletries for the next few days.

The doorbell rang. Her heart stopped. She could see his tall dark shape against the glass. The Prince of Darkness. The name made her shiver.

When she opened the door his sharp eyes took in her slender figure in the plain clothes, and the bag clutched in one hand with her knuckles showing white. Instinctively he schooled his features, not allowing the surge of triumph he felt to show on his face. For once in his life he actually hadn’t been sure which way a woman was going to react, and had been prepared for her to reject his offer. But the bag told him that she was saying yes. He needed to tread carefully. She was as skittish as a colt. He bent to take the bag from her grip, and left her to lock up.

Jane had sent a text to Lisa that morning, wishing her all the best for her dad’s operation and saying she was taking a small trip. Just in case Lisa rang and got no answer from the house. She wasn’t going to go into any details about Xavier yet. If her friend thought for a second there was a man in the picture she’d be like a dog with a bone.

And, as Jane could barely quantify to herself what was happening, she could hardly begin to explain herself to someone else.

By the time they reached the island, and Xavier had guided her to a waiting Jeep, she had pushed any last dissenting voices out of her head. He was being a complete gentleman. Charming, funny, insightful. She hadn’t felt this kind of connection with anyone before—almost as though they’d known each other for years.

A couple of times when they’d locked eyes the heat had flared, swift and intense, reminding her of what was not so far from the surface.

He paused in the Jeep, turning towards her in his seat. ‘We’ll have to go to my home first … an unavoidable conference call I need to take. My penance for taking some time off … I’m sorry.’

‘That’s OK … I don’t mind.’

‘So, what I was going to suggest was this … as it’s nearly lunch, why don’t we eat, you can get settled, and we see the memorial tomorrow?’

This was it. Even though he was assuming that she wanted to stay, he was giving her the opportunity to back out now. But she didn’t want to. She had to take the chance, knowing that in her acceptance, should she choose it, he would read her total acquiescence. She took a deep breath, feeling as though she were stepping over an invisible line drawn in the sand.

‘All right. That sounds good.’

He looked at her for a long moment before leaning over and placing a feather-light kiss on her lips. ‘It will be, Jane … are you sure?’

She looked at him steadily. ‘Yes, I’m sure.’

With a spurt of dry earth, he turned the Jeep towards the castle in the distance. After they came to a stop in the courtyard outside, Jane couldn’t hide her reaction. It didn’t look like a castle, in the sense of turrets and moats. It had two higher wings on either side, huge, imposing archways, and intricate carvings on every stone. She had never seen anything like it before.

‘It’s amazing … Sorry—I’m sure you get that all the time. But really it is beautiful.’

Xavier had stepped out of the Jeep and looked up, hands on hips. ‘Yes, I guess it is … the Moorish influence probably makes it a little less austere.’

‘I thought that was what it was, when I saw it from the distance the other day, but I wasn’t sure.’

He lifted out her bag and took her hand, leading her into a huge open-plan flagstoned hall covered in complicated mosaics. Numerous green plants stood against the walls, and the open spaces were light-filled and indescribably foreign and exotic. Tall pillars led to an inner roofless courtyard.

Jane looked around in awe, taking it all in. She could almost imagine an ancestor of Xavier’s reclining darkly on a divan, voluminous folds of silk covering his body, being attended to by lustrous haired beauties. She blushed at her imagination. Xavier reached out a finger and trailed it down her cheek, leaving a line of fire in its wake.

‘You blush so easily … a rare phenomenon these days.’

‘An embarrassing one, you mean … it tends to come at the most awkward moments, when the last thing I want is for someone to guess I might be unnerved.’

‘And are you … unnerved … here, now, with me?’

‘Well … a little.’

‘Your honesty is refreshing. How have you managed not to lose it yet?’

‘That’s a very cynical thing to say.’

‘I’ve come to learn it’s a very cynical world we live in … but you might prove me wrong.’

Her eyes widened, a vulnerable light in their depths. That and any other thought flew from her mind as his large body closed the distance between them and he claimed her mouth with a kiss full of pent-up passion, his hands moving over her back. She found herself responding, instinctively matching his passion with her own.

Before she knew what was what, she felt herself being lifted into strong arms, and hers automatically went around his neck as he walked back into the hall and up some stairs which were obscured behind material moving gently in the breeze.

She took in an upper level, corridors, more open spaces, before Xavier shouldered his way through an imposing oak door and into a vast room, with a huge king-size bed in the centre. She barely had time to take in the rest of the room before he put her on her feet. Sudden panic gripped her. This was happening too quickly. She backed away, breath coming hard and fast.

‘Wait … do you think we could just … take things slowly for now?’

He stood back from her and ran a hand through his hair. When he saw the look on her face he said quickly, ‘I never planned on dragging you up here like some teenager … I just lost control … which seems to happen more and more frequently since I saw you.’

He gave her a rueful smile. He held out a hand and she took it.

‘Come on. Let’s have some lunch, and I promise not to manhandle you again.’

‘That’s OK. It’s not that I don’t want to be manhandled by you. I’m sure that’d be perfectly nice—’

‘Jane.’

‘Yes?’

‘Stop talking. It’s fine, you don’t have to say anything.’

‘OK.’

He paused at a door almost opposite his bedroom, opening it to reveal another equally stunning room.

‘This is your room. I’ll bring your bag up after we’ve eaten and you can get settled.’ He turned towards her. ‘I’m sorry again, Jane. Believe me, I didn’t just assume that because you’re staying falling into my bed is a foregone conclusion, but I won’t lie to you … I want you. I’m perfectly happy for us to take it slowly, get to know each other … I’ll wait until you’re ready’

Her heart flipped over. Danger. She looked up into his eyes, feeling a drowning sensation, ‘Thank you …’

He needed the space as much as she did. The truth was that he had never before felt such an overwhelming urge to take a woman to his bed … His plan, as he had told her, had been that they would have lunch, get to know one another a little better, have dinner in the evening and then … who knew? But within mere minutes of coming in the front door he had been overtaken by his hormones.

People called him the Prince of Darkness. Because in business he was ruthless and brilliant—even cold, some would say, but always fair. He had that necessary detachment. It was the same with women. He was the one in control. Always. Without exception. Until now.

Jane sat back a while later, in her chair at the lunch table Xavier had set up in the inner courtyard. He had made a light meal of gazpacho soup with a summer salad and crusty bread, all washed down with a crisp white wine.

‘That was delicious … I don’t think I’ve eaten as well in months.’

‘Like I said yesterday, it’s a pleasure to see a woman enjoy her food, and I like cooking.’

‘You’d better be careful or you might be rolling me out of here in a few days.’

She smiled easily, but the words reminded her that this was only for a few days. A mere interlude. Xavier would never remember someone like her when this was over. He would be moving on to the next exquisite beauty. Someone much more his equal, in every way.

‘You have such an expressive face …’

She groaned with a lightness she suddenly didn’t feel. ‘That along with the blushing … it must be an intoxicating mix for someone used to a more sophist—’

He shook his head, cutting her off. ‘Don’t even say it … you have more innate grace in you than half the people I deal with every day.’

‘Th … thank you.’ Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth. She wasn’t used to compliments. Wanting to change to subject, she asked, ‘Do you have any staff? Surely you can’t look after this place by yourself.’

‘Yes, I do but they’re on a few days’ break.’

She couldn’t help a silly flutter of fear.

Xavier read the look on her face effortlessly. ‘They go on holiday this time every year. It’s pure coincidence that it happens to be this week.’

‘Oh … of course.’

The fact that he seemed to be able to read her better than anyone she knew made the flutter come back. That was nearly more disturbing than the thought of being alone with him in this huge castle.

‘Come on, I’ll show you around.’

He stood and held out a hand again, and she found herself taking it without thinking.

Every corner they turned made her exclaim anew. It was full of nooks and crannies, and secret courtyards overflowing with plants and eclectic furniture. She could imagine it being a children’s paradise … and immediately stopped her wayward mind. What on earth had made her think of that?

He brought her to a swimming pool at the back. It was surrounded by trees and flowering bushes, in idyllic seclusion from the rest of the house.

‘Why don’t you go for a swim and relax for a bit? I’ve got that call to take.’

‘OK … why not? If I can ever find my way back here.’

‘There are cabins just behind the trees.’ He indicated to the other side of the pool. ‘Help yourself to a bathing suit and towels; there are robes as well.’

She should have guessed.

She chose a modest one-piece in dark blue, and went back to the pool to choose a lounger. After a quick dip and drying off she succumbed to the peace, which was broken only by the sound of birds and crickets.

A couple of hours later there was still no sign of him, and Jane felt she wanted to wash and get rid of the stickiness of the day. She gathered up her things and tied a robe securely around herself, wandering back through the house until she eventually found the stairs. She whirled around at the sound of a door opening. Xavier stood framed in the doorway. She could see a vast room behind him, with all manner of hi-tech office equipment.

‘I’m sorry, but I’m still caught up with this call … Make yourself at home. I shouldn’t be much longer.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about me,’ Jane declared airily.

Up in the bedroom, she found her bag and padded barefoot to the en suite bathroom. She looked at the huge bath. The bath of her dreams. Filling it almost to the top, and adding copious amounts of the oils and scents that she’d found in a cupboard, she sank blissfully into the bubbles. Along with food, baths were her only other fatal weakness. This one was so huge she could have almost done a length.

But before she could turn into a prune—or, more disturbingly, have Xavier come looking for her—she stepped out. She smoothed on some body lotion and wrapped a towel around herself. Despite it being her own room, she went out cautiously. She couldn’t hear any sounds … he must be busy still.

She caught sight of her reflection in a mirror and stopped for a second. She nearly didn’t recognise herself. Skin glowing a light golden, her hair drifting around her face in waves, softening the harsh bob it had been when she’d first got it cut. Her eyes shone and sparkled, and her cheeks were flushed rosy from the bath.

In the mirror behind her a figure materialised in the doorway. Her eyes lifted, and she froze and watched as Xavier crossed the room to stand behind her.

Their eyes met in the mirror. There was only the sound of their breathing in the room. His hands were on her shoulders, dark against her skin. She watched, barely able to breathe, as they moved down her arms. She brought her eyes back up to his. Her whole body seemed to be pulsating in time with her heart, goosebumps making her skin prickle in anticipation. Right at that moment she wanted nothing more than for him to read her mind, undo her towel, let it drop to the floor, baring her to his gaze. She wanted him to take her breasts in his dark hands, weigh them, feel their heaviness, she wanted him to take off his clothes so she could lean back against the naked length of him …

But he didn’t. His hands came up to her shoulders and rested there heavily.

‘I’m sorry it took so long … When you’re dressed come back downstairs and I’ll cook us some dinner.’

She nodded at his reflection in the mirror, wordlessly watched as he stepped back and away. Thank God he couldn’t read her mind, she thought shakily as he disappeared. Talk about waking a hitherto dormant sexual desire. Where had those images come from?

She went to close the door and whisked off the towel abruptly, studiously avoiding her own reflection again. In the space of a few hours she had morphed from shrinking virgin to mentally stripping him … but he was taking her at her word, holding back, letting her get comfortable. Well, she’d asked for it. She just hoped that he would take the initiative again, before she had to drum up the courage to let him know that she was ready!

A while later Jane sipped from a glass of deep red wine in the open-plan kitchen as she watched Xavier prepare a simple pasta dish. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a loose shirt, and she was equally casual, in a loose pair of linen trousers and a crossover short-sleeved top. She enjoyed watching him move dexterously around the kitchen.

‘Where did you learn to cook?’

He glanced up briefly. ‘In my teens I rebelled against the role my father wanted me to take up in the family business—namely the island—and ran away to the flight school on the mainland … I worked as a cook in a restaurant to help pay my way.’

‘That’s why you took part in the display?’

‘Yes … I allow the pilots to do it here every year. Since my father died, we’ve incorporated it into a summer fête. It’s a day out for everyone, and it’s good for morale—and it allows me to indulge my love for flying.’

Jane had to suppress a slight shudder when she remembered his death-defying stunts.

‘You were better then any of the others … you had some edge that they don’t.’

He looked at her, but instead of finding a look of false flattery on her face saw she was busily picking at a salad. She had merely stated a fact.

‘Thank you … I do miss it, but it was never going to be my destiny. Once my father died, I had to come back and take over the reins here. It used to be just the vineyard, but I developed abroad into the hotel chain and various other investments … mainly property.’

‘Did you see your father before he died?’ she asked softly.

‘No.’ It was curt, and Jane knew she’d hit a nerve. She deflected his attention.

‘Well, this all looks more than fabulous—if that’s possible. You’ll have to let me cook for you, maybe tomorrow …’

He placed a swift kiss on her lips. ‘For now, I’m quite happy to cook and enjoy watching you eat.’

For a moment he seemed as shocked as she was at the impulsive kiss that had come so naturally, but he recovered himself quickly.

Jane coloured as he had known she would. How was it that he felt as though he could read her like a book?

They sat out on a veranda at the back of the house. Soft jazz was coming from a speaker that was artfully hidden. Low lights from the house and candles illuminated the scene outside. Steps led down to a beautifully manicured lawn, teeming with exotic flowers. A clear sky glittered with stars and a full moon hung low in the horizon. It was magical.

The conversation flowed as Jane told him about her mother, the marriage, her job … her life. Instead of a glazed look of boredom passing over his face, as she had feared, he seemed genuinely interested.

He cradled his glass of wine. ‘It’s a strange connection to have …’

When she lifted a quizzical brow he elaborated.

‘You growing up without a father, me without a mother.’

Jane nodded and shrugged lightly. ‘I know … I wish I’d known him. But you can’t really miss what you never had. I think for years Mum immortalised him as the perfect husband, but the truth was that he left us with nothing, and that … that was hard.’

‘The truth usually is …’

She was surprised by the bleak look that crossed his face but then it was gone.

He leant forward to top up her glass of wine. ‘Enough of this maudlin talk …’

He deftly changed the subject and she found herself forgetting about his enigmatic look as he effortlessly charmed her. After they had exhausted several topics, she couldn’t remember when she had enjoyed talking to anyone as much. When she could forget for a moment the intense attraction that was always humming between them …

Later, when he stood and held out a hand to lead her inside, she took it easily. She followed him upstairs to her bedroom door. In the moonlit hallway she could just make out his eyes, feeling them rove over her face. Surely he would …?

She wanted him to take her, mould her to him, kiss her senseless. Her hands itched to pull his head down to hers. But she was too shy to show him. He bent his head and pressed a friendly kiss to her forehead … she felt a crushing disappointment.

‘Goodnight, sweet Jane … I’ll see you in the morning.’ And he firmly turned her towards the bedroom and pushed her gently in.

Hours later Jane lay in sheets that were a tangled mess around her overheated body. Overheated because of all the images that wouldn’t abate. Because of the knowledge that that man was mere feet away, probably naked, just lying there … All she had to do was get up, walk over …

She veered between just about getting up and sinking back into the pillows. At one point she cursed him. He probably knew exactly what he was doing, was so tuned in to the female psyche that this was a tried and tested technique … He was probably sleeping like a baby. As the first fingers of dawn crept into the sky she gave up and admitted defeat. She was a coward. Tomorrow, after all, was another day. And it was her own fault. She finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep of exhaustion.

Jane woke to a gentle prodding, opening up one eye to see a cleanshaven and impeccable Xavier looking down at her. Both eyes snapped open.

‘What time is it?’

‘Almost midday … couldn’t you sleep last night?’

She eyed him suspiciously from under her lashes, was that a mocking smile? She as good as had sexual frustration tattooed on her forehead.

‘Fine, thank you, actually … and you?’ she asked sweetly, making sure the sheet was pulled all the way up to her neck. Did he have to stand so close to the bed?

‘Oh … like the proverbial log. I’ve made a picnic. There’s a nice route we can take on the boat to get around to the memorial. We can take a gentle hike up to see it. It’s a little more demanding, but ultimately rewarding.’

With a glint in his eye and his lip twitching he took his leave to let her get ready, before she could make a smart comeback to his none too subtle double entendre.

Gentle hike …? Some gentle hike, she thought about two hours later, when her legs were aching and sweat was running in rivulets down her brow, between her breasts and down her back. Her shorts and vest clung to her body like an indecent second skin, and all she could do was focus on Xavier’s feet ahead of her, making sure to take exactly the same steps as him.

They had come around to the other end of the island, with Xavier pointing out landmarks, interesting birds and fauna along the way. There was so much more than she had seen at first. It was vibrant with the colour of thousands of wild flowers, cared for laboriously by the islanders who grew them to sell on the mainland.

They had docked the boat at a small cove, not dissimilar to the one he had taken her to the other day. He’d pointed up at what looked a perilously long way away to an overhanging rock. She hadn’t been able to see the memorial, but he’d assured her that it was up there.

They had left their picnic in the shade on the beach, and now she was following Xavier up the hill, which was fast becoming her personal Everest.

Finally, just when she was about to beg for a break, his feet disappeared. She lifted her head to see his outstretched hand and took it gratefully, allowing him to haul her up the last couple of feet. He didn’t let go of her hand, waiting until she had her breath under control, but the view was threatening to take it away again. They had emerged at the highest point of the island, the southernmost tip, and falling away from them and to the north they could see everything … the mainland shimmering faintly in the distance and the castle a small speck up at the other tip.

‘This is … words fail me,’ she breathed when she had enough to spare.

‘I know … it’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

‘Beautiful doesn’t do it justice. It’s epic … and it’s yours.’ She shook her head. ‘How must it feel to come up here and know that all you survey is yours and yours alone?’

‘Not everything …’

She turned her head to see him looking at her. Words crammed her mouth, wanting to come out, but she couldn’t say them. She was tongue-tied, wanting to make some flip comment … but it just wasn’t her.

He drew her attention to the grotto-like shrine a few feet to their left. It was a simple altar, with some candles, and vases with flowers that looked a few days old. It was sheltered on three sides by walls and a roof, facing out to the sea. She felt immeasurably honoured to be shown this special place. She took the small backpack off her shoulders and reached in, pulling out some flowers she had picked on their way up the hill, placing them in one of the vases. Around at the back, Xavier pointed out where the names were inscribed in clear and simple black paint.

‘Thank you for showing me this … it’s very special.’ Her voice was husky.

‘My pleasure.’

He made sure she drank some water, and after a few minutes of companionable silence he took her hand again and started to lead her back down the rocky path.

When they reached the beach Jane saw the water glinting and shimmering, and it was the best thing she’d ever seen. She tore off her shorts and vest, thankful that she had thought to put her bikini on before they left, and ran into the water, relishing the first cool sting and freshness over her sticky body.

Xavier did the same, and she squealed with delight when he emerged from underneath the water only inches away, pulling her down playfully. She silently urged him to kiss her, as he had done that first day, but he was still being the consummate gentleman—much to her growing frustration.

When they were cooled down, he led her back to the beach and spread out a delicious feast. Jane relaxed back and watched him talk … not even hearing his words. She couldn’t remember a time when she had felt so full of delighted expectation. She was aware of every part of him—his hands, his mouth, legs … that chest. She was burning up just thinking about touching him, having him touch her. Her skin itched to be next to his. She wanted to reach over, stop his mouth with hers, run her hands over his muscles. But she didn’t.

It was as if there was a silent communication going on between them on a subliminal level:

Come on, touch me if you dare … you’re the one who wanted to go slowly …

I know! I just don’t know what to do … how to make the move.

The atmosphere that surrounded them was thick with it.

That evening her skin felt hot after the sun … or else her imagination was just keeping it overheated. In bare feet and a plain shift dress, she padded down to the kitchen where she could hear Xavier making dinner. She paused at the door, drinking him in as he worked. He wore a white T-shirt and faded jeans, feet bare like hers. His hair was still wet from the shower, like hers, and a crisp fresh scent intoxicated her nostrils as he moved. He looked up then, and caught her staring. She didn’t even blush … she was beyond that … just smiled.

His eyes boldly appraised her as she came towards him. She was completely unconscious of the provocatively innocent sway to her hips. He poured her a glass of wine and lifted his to hers. They clinked glasses.

‘À nous.’

She nodded jerkily in response.

All through dinner they talked, but it had a hushed, frantic quality. A breathless anticipation was building in Jane’s belly.

When he stood to take her hand under the stars at the end of the evening she was trembling, unable to speak. They stopped once again outside her door. She turned her face up to his. Wordlessly she tried to communicate with him. Couldn’t he tell? Surely he had to know how ready she was? She watched as he brought her hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to the delicate underside of her wrist. She closed her eyes and felt a weakening in her body, her blood slowing to a deep throbbing pulse.

‘Goodnight, Jane. Sleep tight.’