Hot Nights with a Spaniard: Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure / Spanish Aristocrat, Forced Bride / Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge

Cairo looked at him wordlessly, her gaze searching the hard, unreadable arrogance of his face. ‘Rafe—’ She broke off, her eyes wide, as Rafe moved to stand so close to her their bodies almost touched, that crackling tension she had been so aware of in the car intensifying as their gazes met and held.

Cairo could barely breathe. Rafe made no effort now to hide the desire burning in the luminous depths of those deep blue eyes, the same desire that had been there earlier this afternoon when he’d told her of all the things he would like to do to her.

He lifted his hand, his palm cupping her chin as the pad of his thumb moved gently across her bottom lip. Cairo instinctively parted her lips at the softness of that caress even as she felt her nipples harden and swell beneath her dress.

Time seemed to stand still.

Not a sound, not a movement of air disturbed them.

All there was at that moment was Rafe and this wild, singing awareness that heated the blood in Cairo’s veins and made her skin burn with the need for the caress of his hands upon it, stroking, cupping, arousing.

She didn’t move—couldn’t move as Rafe began to lower his head towards hers, her breath catching in her throat as his lips moved softly, enticingly, against hers. He was no longer touching her in any other way but held her captive there with just those arousing lips as he slowly sipped and tasted her.

How long that kiss lasted Cairo had no idea. Nor did she care as she responded with everything that was in her.

Cairo tasted wonderful, Rafe acknowledged achingly. Warm. Silky. Intoxicating.

He felt the hardening of his thighs even as he became drunk on the heady pleasure of kissing her. Nothing else. Just the softness of her lips against his as they drank their fill of each other.

Eventually it wasn’t enough, of course. Rafe wanted more. So much more.

Rafe lifted his head to look down at Cairo, knowing from her flushed cheeks and the glow in the deep, dark brown of her eyes that she was as aroused as he was. ‘I want you so much, Cairo,’ he groaned throatily. ‘Don’t keep me waiting outside too long, hmm?’

Don’t keep him—!

Rafe thought that the two of them—? That they were going to—?

Rafe believed her response to his kiss was an invitation for the two of them to go outside together and make love in the way he had described earlier? Then what? A few more days of the same, before he returned to his world and she returned to hers?

Reality washed over Cairo like the shock of a blast of cold air, and she could only stare up at him as something withered and died deep down inside her. Some hope … Some remembered dream of long ago …

But this was Rafe Montero, she reminded herself. The same man who had claimed her heart eight years ago and then cast it aside when he became bored and moved on to another conquest. As he would become bored with her again once he had made love with her!

Not again, Cairo told herself firmly. Never again would she allow her heart to rule her head.

‘I’ll be outside,’ Rafe whispered, running a slow, caressing finger down the hollow of her cheek before turning and quietly leaving the room.

Cairo stood as still as a statue.

She felt like one, too, at that moment.

A figure of cold marble in which no emotion, no sensation existed.

Not even pain….

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘WHAT the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Cairo was sitting up in bed reading a book—or, at least, appearing to!—when Rafe burst unannounced into her bedroom. A quick glance at the face of the slender gold watch on her wrist showed her that it was now half an hour since he had told her he would be waiting outside for her on the terrace.

She had considered actually lying down in bed with the light off and pretending she was asleep when he came in search of her—as she had known that he would—but had decided that would be too undignified; Rafe wasn’t the type of man to just turn and leave again and was more than capable of switching on the light before dragging her from the bed kicking and screaming!

So instead she had removed her make-up and taken a leisurely shower before donning a pale cream nightgown of the sheerest silk, only a band of matching cream lace across her breasts preventing it from being completely transparent. She’d then stood in front of the mirror brushing her hair until it shone straight and sleek over her shoulders and down her spine.

Her tools of war, she decided angrily as she arranged her pillows before getting into bed to sit and wait, her tension increasing with each tick of her wristwatch.

However, none of that tension showed as she looked over her book at Rafe where he stood in the doorway glowering across the room at her. He was no longer wearing the jacket to his suit or the red bowtie, and the top two buttons of his shirt were open to reveal the silky black hair on his chest.

Cairo suppressed an inward shiver as she acknowledged how dark and dangerous he looked. Instead, she gave him a bright, enquiring smile. ‘I’m reading a book, of course.’

Rafe’s scowl deepened as he advanced into the room, his movements predatory before he came to an abrupt halt beside the bed. ‘I’ve been waiting outside for you for the last half-hour,’ he growled.

Cairo could almost feel his anger, knew by the nerve that pulsed in his clenched jaw just how near to the surface that anger was.

She gave a shrug as she lay the book face down beside her on the bed. ‘I decided I was just too tired for any more conversation tonight, Rafe.’

‘You—!’ Rafe bit off what he was going to say and instead drew in a deep, controlling breath. Like his father before him, Rafe had a volatile Spanish temper. A temper that Rafe rarely, if ever, lost. Only Cairo, it seemed, had the power to stretch his control to its very limits.

He very carefully reached down and plucked the book from beside her and placed it on the bedside table before sitting down on the edge of the bed. ‘We both know conversation was the last thing I had in mind when I asked you to join me outside once Daisy was in bed,’ he said softly.

‘Really?’ She continued to meet his gaze unblinkingly.

‘Yes,’ he acknowledged pleasantly. ‘Good book?’ He nodded towards the bedside table.

‘Very good,’ she confirmed slowly, no longer quite as composed as Rafe saw a slight frown appear between the clear brown of her eyes.

‘What’s it about?’ Rafe reached out and picked the book up so that he could read the back cover. ‘Strange,’ he said as he put it back down. ‘I would never have tagged you as a reader of murder mysteries.’

She smiled. ‘This one’s about a woman who kills her lover after she finds out he’s been cheating on her.’

‘Really,’ Rafe commented, easily holding her gaze with his. ‘But I bet she gets caught in the end. They all do.’

‘Not all of them,’ Cairo said dryly. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, Rafe …? I really am very tired.’ She raised one auburn brow.

Rafe wanted to reach out, grasp her shoulders, and shake her. Anything to put some spark of emotion back into her!

He had become more irritated by the minute as he’d stood outside waiting for her to join him, knowing that earlier Cairo had wanted him as much as he wanted her.

But as he looked at her now he saw none of that softly desirable woman he had kissed such a short time ago. Instead he saw a woman whose barriers were so firmly back in place it was impossible to tell what thoughts were going through her head.

He gave her a narrow-eyed look. ‘Did seeing Bond again tonight reawaken a spark of emotion for him? Is that it?’

She blinked in surprise. ‘You’re being utterly ridiculous, Rafe.’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind leaving? I really am very tired—’

‘Cairo.’ Rafe spoke her name quietly, but it was enough to silence her.

Cairo’s gaze became less certain on his as she became aware of how dangerous it was for them to be alone together in her bedroom.