Читать книгу Summer With Love: The Spanish Consultant - Sarah Morgan - Страница 12

JAGO rang the bell of the flat with impatient fingers and proceeded to pace up and down like a caged tiger.

Ever since their totally unsatisfactory, interrupted conversation, he’d been filled with a rising tension and foreboding.

What had Katy been about to say when she’d stopped in mid-sentence?

Obviously something that she would rather have kept a secret, he reflected grimly, remembering the sudden pallor of her cheeks.

The door suddenly opened and Libby stood there, her blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders, a defiant gleam appearing in her eyes as she recognised him.

‘Yes?’ Her tone was decidedly unfriendly and he tensed. He wasn’t accustomed to receiving such a complete lack of response from a woman.

Obviously he had some serious fence-mending to do with the sister as well as Katy.

‘I need to talk to your sister.’

‘She’s got a date with Freddie tonight,’ Libby announced smoothly. ‘He’s the man she’s marrying in two months’ time.’

Seeing that she was about to close the door in his face, Jago planted a powerful hand in the middle and pushed it open.

‘She won’t be marrying him.’

Given no choice but to let him in, Libby backed away from the door and glared at him. ‘It took years for her to recover when you walked out last time,’ she said frostily. ‘Because of what you did she’s avoided men like the plague. Don’t think Alex and I are going to stand by and let you do it again.’

‘I’m not going to hurt her.’ Jago stood still, wondering why he felt the need to explain himself to Katy’s sister. He wasn’t in the habit of explaining himself to anyone. ‘I came to finish a conversation. She finally told me everything this morning.’

Libby’s blue eyes were suddenly wary. ‘What do you mean, everything?’

Pushing away the slight niggle that he wasn’t playing fair, Jago took instant advantage. He needed the information. He needed to know.

‘Everything. I know about the baby.’ It was no more than an educated guess but he could see from the look in his eyes that he’d hit the jackpot.

‘She told you that?’ Libby’s eyes narrowed. ‘She didn’t mention it to me this evening.’

Jago’s fabled intellect was working overtime, trying to map out a conversation that would give him the information he needed without revealing that there had been no confession.

‘Let’s just say we’ve finally started talking about things we should have talked about a long time ago. It must have been terrible for her.’

‘It was terrible for all of us. We thought she was going to die for a while,’ Libby said softly, her eyes clouded by unpleasant memories. ‘She was devastated when you left, but then to lose the baby was the final straw. And she was so ill.’

She lost the baby?

His baby?

Stunned by the news, Jago masked his expression, determined to elicit all the facts. ‘She was in hospital?’

‘Of course.’ Libby frowned, as if surprised that he should ask such a strange question. ‘It was such a bad fall they were really worried about her.’

Jago was battling with the shock of discovering that Katy had been pregnant when he’d left her and had then lost the baby. He was utterly appalled by the notion that he’d somehow failed to protect her. And confused. How could she have become pregnant?

His hard jaw clenched. Had her father known she was pregnant? And why had she fallen?

His brain was still scanning through a variety of equally distasteful scenarios when the door opened and Katy walked into the room.

Dressed for an evening out, she looked incredibly beautiful in a silky black dress and he felt his body tighten in the most basic of male responses. He adored her curves. Like most men, his preference was for women to be shaped like women rather than sticks, and Katy was every inch a woman. The only thing that was wrong with her appearance was her hair.

His mouth tightened as he saw how carefully she’d styled her hair, twisting it and taming it until it lay subdued on top of her head.

She had fabulous hair. Left loose, it fell like a sleek gold curtain almost to her waist and he’d spent hours smoothing his fingers through it, enjoying its amazing scent and texture. But she’d only ever worn it loose when he’d forced the issue. The rest of the time she’d twisted it into submission on the top of her head.

It was the style she always wore for her parents and he hated it. It was restrained, dignified and repressed. All the things that she thought she ought to be. How many times had he ripped the pins out of her hair when they’d been together?

It was as if she was locking an important part of herself away.

He wondered briefly if her fiancé knew what she was really like underneath that elegant, contained exterior and then almost growled with anger at the thought of another man touching her.

She was his.

She’d always been his.

The thought made him catch his breath.

‘Jago!’ Her startled gaze slid between him and her sister and Libby pulled an apologetic face and backed towards the kitchen.

‘Sorry, he forced his way in.’ She glared at Jago and then looked pointedly at her sister. ‘I’ll be making coffee if you need me.’

‘Libby—wait!’ Katy’s plea was ignored and the kitchen door closed firmly behind Libby.

Jago derived some comfort from the fact that Katy hadn’t wanted to be left alone with him.

She didn’t trust herself.

It gave him a primitive type of male satisfaction to note the way her soft lips parted and her pupils dilated when she looked at him.

He gave a soft smile and stepped towards her.

Katy’s eyes locked on Jago’s powerful frame and she felt a rush of panic.

He’d come after her.

And hadn’t she guessed that he would? Ever since her thoughtless, unguarded comment spoken in the heat of the moment, she’d known that he wouldn’t let it go.

His dark gaze locked on hers with the deadly accuracy of a heat-seeking weapon and she felt something unravel deep within her stomach.

It appalled her that he could still make her feel this way. All right, so he was gorgeous, but he was also the man who’d thought her capable of sleeping with two men at the same time. They clearly didn’t share the same moral values. How could she still find him even remotely attractive?

But she did. One look at his hard mouth made her skin tingle and her breasts ache.

She felt hot all over.

Shocked by the depth of her reaction, drowning in her elemental response to him, Katy sucked in a breath and tried to apply logic to the situation.

Of course she found him attractive. What woman wouldn’t? Jago Rodriguez was as sexy as sin. Her reaction didn’t mean anything. It was something she could control.

Furiously denying what she was feeling, she reminded herself that she was marrying Freddie in two months’ time, and if a tiny voice pointed out that Jago could arouse a response at a distance of metres that Freddie couldn’t match even when they were touching, then she chose to ignore it.

There was no way she’d be so foolish as to resume a relationship with Jago again.

Whatever she felt for him, she couldn’t be with a man who didn’t trust her. And Jago hadn’t trusted her.

Having reminded herself firmly of that fact, she tried to match his attitude of cool indifference. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Finishing our conversation.’ His eyes rested on her mouth with blatant fascination and then slid down her body, his intense scrutiny making her relieved that she was wearing a very modest silk dress. At least he couldn’t see what she was feeling.

Or could he?

‘The conversation was finished, Jago.’

‘I don’t think so. We’d just reached the part where you were telling me about the baby.’

She was shaken into silence by his smooth declaration and panic clawed at her stomach. ‘I didn’t say—’

‘It was more what you left unsaid,’ he finished softly, stepping closer to her. ‘Finish the story, Katy.’

She turned and fled towards her bedroom but he was right behind her, closing the door and isolating them together in the confines of the cosy room. Instantly she realised her mistake.

The large, elegant hallway was impersonal whereas everything about her bedroom was soft and intimate. Personal.

The last place in the world she’d have chosen to be alone with Jago.

In the hallway of her apartment she hadn’t found him particularly intimidating, but in her bedroom she couldn’t help but be aware of his superior height and strength. He dominated the room, overwhelmingly male and unshakably confident. And he was looking for answers.

‘When did you find out that you were pregnant?’

‘After you left.’ What was the point in denying what he clearly knew? She walked over the far end of her bedroom, wondering how a room that she normally regarded as a sanctuary could suddenly seem so claustrophobic.

He frowned. ‘You didn’t find out until after I left?’

She swallowed. ‘I suspected …’

‘But you didn’t say anything?’

‘I panicked.’

‘I can imagine.’ He ran a hand over his jaw, visibly tense. ‘Katy, you told me you were protected.’

His voice was surprisingly gentle and her heart missed several beats. If she was vulnerable to his macho, dominating male side, she was even more vulnerable to his gentle side. She wished he’d kept it hidden.

She felt the colour touch her cheeks. ‘There really isn’t any reason to talk about this.’

‘Your sister clearly blames me for making you pregnant,’ he pointed out, and she sat down on the edge of the bed because standing suddenly seemed too much like hard work.

‘That’s not true. I told Libby it was my fault.’

He inhaled sharply. ‘I was older than you and more experienced. It was my responsibility but you definitely told me you were protected.’ He stepped forward and hunkered down next to her, his dark gaze fixed on her pale face, his eyes tormented. ‘Have you any idea what it does to me to know that I left you pregnant? You lied to me, querida. Why?’

‘Because I was eighteen and stupid,’ she muttered, her cheeks hot with embarrassment. ‘And desperate.’

He frowned with an unusual lack of comprehension. ‘Desperate?’

‘To go to bed with you.’

She looked away from him, instantly regretting her honesty, but strong fingers caught her chin and forced her to look at him.

Connecting with those stunning dark eyes, she suddenly understood with appalling clarity how she could have made such a serious error of judgement at eighteen. Jago was so staggeringly sexy that exercising common sense would have been as unlikely as a snowstorm in summer.

He said something under his breath in Spanish and then switched to English. ‘I can’t believe I let that happen,’ he muttered, and her eyes slid away from his.

‘I’ve never blamed you.’

‘You should have told me you were pregnant.’

‘I had no idea where you were,’ she pointed out, struggling to control the traitorous reaction of her body. He was so close to her. She curled her fingers into her palms in case she gave in to the temptation to slide them into his silky black hair. ‘And, anyway, you’d rejected me.’

He gave an agonised groan. ‘Don’t remind me. If I’d known …’ His face was unusually pale, the skin stretched taut over his cheekbones. ‘And then you lost the baby. How did you fall? Tell me what happened.’

Shaken by a question that she hadn’t been anticipating, she stared at him. ‘How did you know I fell?’

‘I’m afraid I took advantage of your sister,’ he muttered, and she stood up and moved over to her bedroom window.

He was being too nice to her. The only way she could keep him at a distance was if she reminded herself that he was an uncaring, unfeeling monster who hadn’t trusted her, and it was very hard to do that convincingly when he was working overtime on demonstrating his sensitive side.

She desperately wanted him to leave.

Unfortunately Freddie wasn’t due for another half-hour so there was no hope of a reprieve from that direction.

‘Katy?’ Eyes narrowed, Jago rose to his feet in a fluid movement and she stopped to pick up a towelling robe, which lay discarded on the floor, and draped it over the back of a chair.

Anything to avoid that penetrating gaze. He saw too much.

‘I tripped—it was just one of those things.’

There was a long silence. ‘You tripped?’

She licked her lips, hearing the surprise and disbelief in his tone. ‘That’s right. And now can we change the subject?’ She looked at him and managed something resembling a smile. ‘As you’re always saying, it’s history now and I certainly don’t blame you for the baby.’

His powerful body radiated tension. ‘But you blame me for everything else.’

‘You should have trusted me, Jago,’ she said simply. ‘I was completely in love with you and a man as experienced as you should have seen that I couldn’t see straight enough to focus on another man.’

A muscle moved in his cheek and she watched him dealing with the unfamiliar experience of being in the wrong.

For a man with his pride she knew it would be hard and she certainly wasn’t expecting an apology. Jago had probably never apologised for anything in his life.

‘You have to admit I had reason—’

‘You ignored what you knew about me and judged me on the evidence of someone who had every reason to destroy our relationship,’ she said quietly, holding onto the fact that he’d behaved with such totally predictable male arrogance. Only by remembering that would she be able to keep him at a distance. ‘I still can’t quite believe you did that. And now you have to go, Jago. Freddie will be here any minute.’

‘Call him and cancel.’

He moved towards her with deliberate intent and she found herself backing against the wall of the bedroom.

‘He’s booked a table.’

‘Cancel.’ His eyes dropped to her mouth and she felt her heart rate increase with startling rapidity. ‘You’re not going to marry him, Katy.’

The atmosphere in the room was suddenly charged with tension and she felt frighteningly out of control.

‘I am, I’m—’

‘Call him and end it. We both know you’re not in love with him. So why are you marrying him?’ Because she didn’t want love.

Jago stepped closer still and she felt sensation knife through her pelvis. She was breathlessly aware of him, of the blue-black stubble on his jaw, of the slumberous dark eyes probing hers with relentless intent, of his wide shoulders blocking her escape.

‘You’re dating a Brazilian model,’ she reminded him desperately, and he gave a groan of denial.

‘Not any more.’

Trapped by his ferocious masculinity, she felt the tension in the room rise to an almost unbearable degree.

‘End it,’ he instructed softly, his eyes dropping to her parted lips and clouding hungrily, ‘or stop looking at me like that.’

She couldn’t get the air into her lungs. ‘I’m not looking at you—’

‘Yes, you are.’

Without warning he took her mouth in a kiss so explicit in its intent that her senses went into freefall. With a rough exclamation he hauled her against his powerful body, the sensual onslaught of his kiss creating an excitement so wild that she couldn’t help but respond. Fevered by his touch, she kissed him back, locking her arms around his strong neck, feeling the heat of his body pressing through the thin fabric of her dress.

His breathing fractured, he lifted a hand and tugged roughly at her hair, discarding the clips impatiently until it tumbled in a silken mass over his arm and down her back.

With a groan of satisfaction he sank both hands into the soft waves that he’d released, anchoring her head against the relentless onslaught of his skilled mouth.

‘I love your hair.’ He muttered the words against her mouth, moving his lips over hers, exploring suggestively with his tongue until she went up in flames.

How could she have forgotten what it felt like to kiss Jago?

Instead of pulling away, she pressed herself closer to him, quivering with response as he kissed her senseless.

Her body softened under the hard possession of his mouth, her insides melting as his tongue probed and teased in an erotic reminder of more intimate moments.

‘Jago, please …’ She was out of her mind with excitement, her whole body consumed by a wild hunger that was totally outside her control.

She needed him so badly.

It had been so long.

The hot demands of his mouth intensified and she started to shiver, held in the grip of an electrifying force so powerful that that she thought she might explode.

She felt frantic.

Desperate.

When Jago finally dragged his mouth away from hers, she staggered slightly, grateful that his fingers were gripping her arms so tightly. If they hadn’t been, she would undoubtedly have fallen.

Aghast and embarrassed by the uninhibited way she’d responded to him, she freed herself from his grip and backed away, deriving some small satisfaction from the fact that Jago looked as stunned as she felt.

Maybe he wasn’t quite as cool and in control as he liked to pretend.

He sucked in his breath and took a step backwards, reaching out to steady himself as he almost tripped over the chair.

His dark eyes burned into hers. ‘You definitely need to call Freddie.’

With that parting shot he turned and strode out of the room, leaving her staring after him in trembling disbelief, feeling intensely vulnerable.

What had she done?

She’d kissed Jago.

And that hadn’t been any old kiss. That kiss had been as close to sex as it was possible to get without removing clothing.

She groaned in mortification. Knowing Jago, he wasn’t going to let her forget it. He was self-confident and arrogant enough to have taken that response as a green light. From now on he’d be pursuing her with all the subtlety of a herd bull.

Shocked and confused, she sat on the edge of the bed until the sound of the doorbell disturbed her.

It would be Freddie. What was she going to do?

She stared at the closed door with something close to desperation.

She was engaged to Freddie but she’d kissed Jago. And kissing Jago had exposed her to a level of excitement that she’d denied herself for eleven years. Intense, toe-curling excitement that could so easily become addictive.

Lifting a hand, she touched her lips, still able to feel a slight tingling where he’d plundered her mouth with his.

No one but no one kissed like Jago. Jago had cornered the market in sexual excitement.

Hearing Freddie’s voice in the hallway, she closed her eyes, knowing that she needed to make a decision.

Fingers shaking, she stood up just as Freddie tapped on the door and walked in. He stopped in surprise, visibly taken aback by her appearance.

‘Goodness, Katherine, what have you done to your hair?’ His frown was faintly disapproving. ‘The Fletcher-Gibbs are quite formal usually and this evening is very much a business dinner. There’ll be clients there. You might want to wear it up.’

Katy blinked, suddenly realising that she’d forgotten to redo her hair after Jago had strode like the conquering male out of her bedroom, having kissed her to the point of total surrender.

She lifted a hand and realised that her long blonde hair, normally fiercely restrained, was flowing loose over her shoulders.

‘I—I—’ She broke off, suddenly needing to ask him a question. ‘Freddie, do you like it like this? If we weren’t dining with the Fletcher-Gibbs, would you prefer that I left it down?’

He looked at her with the expression of a man who knew he was on dangerous ground. ‘You look lovely,’ he said tactfully, ‘but generally speaking I prefer it up. It projects the right sort of image, don’t you agree?’

And that was what Freddie cared about, of course. Image.

Katy looked at him thoughtfully. Jago didn’t prefer it up. Her hair had always driven him wild. But, then, as Libby had pointed out, Freddie wasn’t the sort of man to be driven wild by anything except stocks and shares.

And that had been one of the reasons she’d agreed to marry him.

But what was she going to do now?

Could she ever be satisfied with the blandness of Freddie after experiencing the heat and colour of a man like Jago?