Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride

He opened his eyes, that brilliant green pinning her to the spot.

‘Are you OK?’

She nodded her head, incapable of speech, her eyes drawn helplessly to his. They lay face to face, her hands captured against his chest, his arms around her. She was mesmerised by every part of him—his eyes, nose, mouth. She reached a finger up to trace his lips wonderingly. He gently pulled himself from her body and she blushed.

He shook his head wryly. ‘You’re the first virgin I’ve slept with since my teens … I suspected, but wasn’t sure, and when you didn’t say anything—’

Jane coloured, wanting to hide. Her virginity had been the last thing on her mind.

‘If I’d known …’

She felt herself tense slightly. ‘If … if you’d known, what?’

He wouldn’t have pursued her? He preferred his women more experienced?

His hand drifted up and down her back, relaxing her again. ‘It doesn’t matter now. To think I’m your first lover is actually the most erotic thing I’ve experienced in …’

He didn’t finish, just bent and kissed her mouth with aching tenderness. What had she expected after all? The man was sinfully gorgeous, powerful and rich. Of course he was experienced, used to women falling at his feet. She locked her misgivings away somewhere deep inside her.

He curled her into him more tightly, and finally she drifted off to sleep, enclosed in his arms, his strong heart beating under her cheek.

Jane woke the next morning to face an expanse of naked chest. Lifted her eyes slowly to meet green ones looking back. A heavy, possessive arm lay across her hip, the hand moving in slow circles.

‘Morning,’ she said shyly, wanting to duck her head as the previous night came back into her consciousness. She felt a pleasurable ache in every muscle.

‘Morning.’ He pressed a kiss to her mouth.

She could feel some tension in the air, and his eyes took on a serious light, making a finger of something skate up and down her spine.

‘I didn’t use protection last night. I never usually forget, but …’ A strange expression came over his face, but it was bland again in a second, making her think she’d imagined it.

‘I’m guessing you’re probably not on the Pill?’

Reality crashed in on Jane, waking her sleep-muddled brain up in a second. Of course he wouldn’t want any complications from this … holiday fling. Because that was all it was. She tried to remain unaware of his naked body stretched close against hers, where she could already feel the stirrings of his arousal, and felt herself responding, with heat unfurling in her lower body. She struggled to focus on his words, not the response of her body.

‘No, I’m not … but it’s a safe time of the month for me …’

It wasn’t strictly accurate, but she did a quick calculation in her head. She was sure it would be fine. Seemingly content with her assurance, he relaxed and drew her in tighter against his body, where she could feel the full strength of his hardness as it pressed against her.

‘I think you owe me at least a day in bed … to make up for making me wait …’

All previous thoughts fled as her pulse threatened to strangle her words. She was already breathing faster as his hand caressed the globe of her bottom. ‘You knew better than me … you must have known the torture I was going through.’

‘No … I was going through my own … In fact it’s happening again—something you can help me remedy …’

He drew her on top of him, running his hands down her smooth back, cupping her bottom, bringing up her legs to either side of him. He drew her head down to his, and as she closed her eyes she thought that she’d never get enough of him.

Over the next two days they made love, talked, ate. Xavier revelled in teaching her how much her body could respond to his touch … and how he could respond to hers.

Jane shut out the outside world. Even when they went beyond the confines of the castle and he took her on a sightseeing tour of the rest of the island, it felt as though the island itself was the perimeter of this world, that nothing could intrude. He brought her to the small village, with exactly two hundred and seven inhabitants. It was a bustling, thriving community—largely thanks to him. The people considered themselves markedly different from the mainland, with their Spanish heritage, and it was reflected everywhere. The locals welcomed him as if he was their king … the children shy, men respectful, young women blushing.

Jane knew that without his presence there was no way the island would have retained its unique heritage.

Xavier had promised to show her his favourite childhood spot for swimming, and as they drove there another Jeep approached them on the small narrow road. When it drew alongside the driver was gesturing. Xavier stopped and got out. Jane followed. A stunning brunette, clad in an exquisite suit, was embracing Xavier energetically, speaking fast and furiously.

Jane walked around to join them, feeling very mussed-up and plain next to this vision of chic. Xavier pulled her close and cut through the other woman’s stream of words. ‘Sophie Vercors … meet Jane Vaughan.’

The woman halted with comic surprise as Jane was revealed, her eyes widening, and then a mischievous look dawned, an undeniable warmth in her face.

She replied in English, ‘Xavier, you dark horse … entertaining on the island? Why, I thought you never—’

He cut her off with a warning look in his eye. ‘Sophie, Jane is on holiday from England. She goes home in two days.’

Jane felt the brusque comment like a physical slap. He was very tacitly stating the extent of their involvement …

She held out a hand and smiled, ignoring an ache somewhere deep inside. ‘Nice to meet you.’

‘You too, Jane.’ Sophie’s smile was wide and unaffected. She had obviously decided to drop any further probing, and launched into a long and hilarious explanation of how she had to race to the mainland to meet her husband, who had forgotten something. She left after a few minutes with a friendly wink to Jane, a flurry of kisses and a cloud of dust in her wake.

Xavier didn’t elaborate, beyond telling Jane that she was a Parisienne who had married one of his oldest friends. He, like Xavier, worked primarily on the mainland. It was obvious that she and Xavier were very good friends, easily affectionate with each other.

After a short drive, they pulled in off the track and made their way on foot to the secluded cove. They left the picnic Jane had prepared under a tree on the edge of the beach and raced each other into the water. All thoughts of the future, and her looming departure, were gone, and Jane strenuously focused on the present moment.

In the water, their horseplay quickly turned into something more serious, and afterwards, under the shade of the tree, Xavier laid out the blanket and stood before her. Hair slicked against his head, the tang of the salty water on his skin, Xavier removed her bikini, kissing every exposed piece of flesh until he came to kneel before her. Her hands were on his shoulders, and her legs were threatening to buckle under waves of intense pleasure as he held her bottom. He wouldn’t allow her to fall as his mouth and tongue did wicked things between her legs. Finally, when she thought she couldn’t bear it any more, with words pleading for release on her lips, he laid her down and stretched over her, his body long and lean, every muscle clearly delineated, his erection jutting proudly, majestically between their bodies.

Jane felt a primal possessiveness as she looked into his eyes.

This man is mine …

And it scared her to death. She drove it away, reaching up, her lips seeking and finding his, saying his name on a moan. ‘Xavier … now, please now.’

‘What … what do you want?’

She urged her hips to his, but he went with her, thwarting her efforts. She bit her lip in frustration.

He took a second to slip on protection, and the knowledge that he hadn’t failed to do so since that first time was all too clear in Jane’s head. But the throbbing of her body drowned that thought out as she felt him position himself between her legs in one fluid move.

‘Tell me what you want … is it this?’

He started to enter the heart of her, just with the tip, and pulled out again.

Jane was nearly mindless with need, barely coherent. ‘Yes … yes! Please, Xavier, I can’t … hold on …’

He continued to torture her, focusing his attention on her breasts, taking each peak with a hot mouth and stimulating them unbearably, and then his mouth found hers, tongue stroking hers, igniting an ever-climbing fire of need that raced along every vein and cell.

Finally he entered her again, a little deeper, but this time Jane wanted to frustrate him and she pulled back. Much as it pained her, it excited her unbearably, this erotic dance.

‘Two can play that game …’ she breathed with a new confidence.