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

‘Yes.’

‘Look … Xavier … we hardly know each other, and I’m not normally—’

‘So responsive? Well, neither am I.’ His voice sounded harsh.

She had been about to say easy, and amended her words. ‘That is … I mean … I want you to know that it wasn’t my intention to come here just for some kind of holiday … thing.’

He moved her closer to him, looping deceptively loose arms around her waist, ignoring the chatter around them. She came in contact with the still semi-hard evidence of his arousal. Immediately an answering liquid heat pooled in her groin.

‘And, contrary to what you may think, I’m not in the habit of pursuing random tourists … I’m not sure what this is either, but don’t you think it might be fun to explore?’

Fun. Explore. The words resounded in her head.

He stepped back, putting her away from him gently. ‘I’ll take you back now, but I have a proposition …’ He trailed a long finger down one cheek. ‘I promised to bring you to the island tomorrow to show you the memorial.’

He lifted a brow as if to ask if she still wanted to do that.

She felt herself nodding slowly, trying to focus just on his words, not on the finger caressing her heated skin.

‘I’d like you to come and stay there as my guest for the rest of the week … We could get to know one another … explore this … attraction.’ His finger left her cheek. ‘It’s up to you.’

He looked at her for a long moment, before shading his eyes again with the dark glasses and starting back towards the boat. He hadn’t meant to ask her to stay, the words had surprised him, but now, having asked, it felt right. One thing was for sure. An afternoon picnic wasn’t enough.

A few seconds later Jane followed blindly, her mind churning furiously. She would never see him again after this week. She would have it to hug to herself for ever. What did she have to lose? Could she really be contemplating this? Could she indulge the fantasy?

They were silent on the boat back, and during the car journey up to the villa. He was detached and polite. At her front door they looked at one another for the first time since they had left the beach. He tipped up her face with a finger under her chin.

‘So, Jane Vaughan … I’ll be here to pick you up at ten a.m. It can be a simple day trip to see the grotto, or you can come and stay for the next few days … Like I said, the choice is yours.’

And then he was in his car, the purring sound of the engine growing fainter before she drew in another breath, still looking at the spot where he had stood. She knew without a doubt that he would let her go at the end of the next day if she so desired. He was far too proud to push her. It was, as he’d said, up to her.

She mechanically went into the house, and before she knew what she was doing she realised that she was packing her things, tidying up in readiness to leave for a few days. Her body was ahead of her brain. She sat on the couch in the living room, an excited, nervous, shivery feeling in her belly.

Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. The words popped into her head. Well, this was what she had wished for, wasn’t it? The start of something new. Letting go of the old reliable, sensible, mature Jane. It was time for her to have some fun for a change. And when someone like Xavier Salgado-Lézille wanted you … then surely it went against the flow of the universe to say no? She was being offered a taste of something that she knew many women would not hesitate for a second to experience.

The only thing was … she had a sneaking suspicion that more than her body was in danger of falling under his spell. Was it a risk she was prepared to take? A resounding voice in her head said yes. Throw caution to the wind. She caught sight of her reflection in a mirror. I mean really, she asked herself, how involved could she get in one week? She turned away before she could see the mocking glint in her eye.

Chapter Four

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.