Книга - Chosen As The Frenchman’s Bride

Chosen As The Frenchman's Bride
ABBY GREEN


Tall, bronzed Frenchman Xavier Salgado-Lézille isn't a man a girl can say no to easily.Jane tries to play it cool, but she's inexperienced. . . and a virgin. Falling in love isn't part of the plan. . . neither is discovering she's pregnant once the affair is over.Xavier knows she's carrying his child, and he wants an heir. Jane has been chosen as his bride!








Abby Green




Contents


Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen



Coming Next Month


For Lynn and the women upstairs…




PROLOGUE


The poolside, Hotel Lézille, 8.30pm

HE NOTICED her as soon as she appeared in the archway between the lobby and the pool, his eyes drawn there as if pulled by a magnetic force. A rare excitement stirred his pulse. He told himself that he hadn’t come especially to seek her out. She seemed slightly hesitant, unsure. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, but she had a stunningly natural quality about her, which in his world was rare, compelling. In a simple black dress that outlined every slender curve and a generous bosom, she caught his eye again, and he couldn’t look away. Didn’t want to.

The soft waves of her dark hair framed her face. Intriguingly, she seemed to be slightly self-conscious. Or perhaps, he thought with a hardened cynicism that had been honed over years, she carefully projected that vulnerable fragility. God knew she had managed to capture his attention in the street yesterday. Her huge, striking blue eyes had momentarily stunned him, rendering him speechless. And he was never stunned, or speechless. Something in their depths had caught him, combined with that lush mouth, looking up at him so innocently, full of a shocked kind of awe.

Then, amazingly, when he had seen her on the island earlier today, he had followed some base instinct to see her up close again…She was everything he remembered, and more. He recalled how she had trembled under his hands in the street yesterday, and under his look earlier today on the island. He couldn’t ever remember a woman being so blatantly responsive.

His mouth compressed when he thought of her refusal to have dinner with him. That certainly hadn’t happened in a while, if ever. Was she playing some game? He wouldn’t be surprised…He was constantly amazed at the lengths some women went to just to get his attention. Playing hard to get wasn’t a new trick…

He mentally dismissed the bottle redhead to his left, who was chattering incessantly, oblivious of the fact that his attention had long wandered from her far too obviously surgically enhanced assets.

With a barely perceptible flick of his wrist a man materialised at his side, bending low.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Who is that woman?’ He indicated to where she stood.

‘She’s not a guest with us, sir, but I can find out if you like…’

He just shook his head and dismissed him.

The ennui that had settled over him recently was definitely fading as he took in her graceful progress through the tables to reach her companions. With a skill based on years of reading people and body language, a skill that had tripled his fortune many times over, he assessed them in seconds, focusing on the man he guessed was her date. No competition. His heart-rate speeded up pleasantly as he contemplated them from under hooded lids. He decided now that he would conveniently forget the blow to his pride when she had refused him earlier. She was definitely worth pursuing. A surge of anticipation and desire made him feel alive in a way he hadn’t in months…




CHAPTER ONE


Earlier that day…

JANE VAUGHAN wandered up and down the bustling jetty with a frown appearing over the ridge of her sunglasses. She couldn’t remember exactly which gate she’d been at yesterday; now there were lots of bobbing boats and people lining up to get on board. The man she’d approached had taken no deposit, nor given her a ticket, but instead had reassured her that if she came back to him he would make sure she got on the right boat…the only problem now was that she couldn’t spot him anywhere.

Bumping into that stranger in the street just afterwards must have scrambled her brain more than she’d thought. She shook her head wryly. She’d never thought herself to be the kind of woman that would spend a night fantasising about someone she had bumped into for mere moments. A newly familiar heat flooded her belly, however, as his tall, powerful body and hard-boned face swam into her mind’s eye, his image still as vivid as if he were standing right in front of her. She shook her head again, this time to shake free of the memory. Honestly, this was so unlike her.

She went towards a gate that looked familiar, tagging onto the end of a queue. When she got to the man at the top he seemed a little harassed. At her query of, ‘Excusez-moi. C’est le bâteau pour les îles?’ he just gestured impatiently into the boat. She hesitated for a moment, before figuring what was the worst that could happen? So if she didn’t end up exactly where she’d expected to then it would be an adventure. They were going somewhere, and she was on holiday, not everything had to be strictly organised. She needed to relax more.

Once they were underway she had to admit grudgingly that she was enjoying the breeze and the sun across her shoulders and bare legs. The brightly patterned halterneck dress she wore was a present from her friend Lisa, given with an order to make herself more visible.

She pushed her sunglasses onto her head, tipping her face up to the sun, and for the first time since landing on the Côte D’Azur a week ago felt a rush of wellbeing and freedom. She didn’t even really miss her friend’s presence. Lisa was meant to have travelled with her—after all, it was her family’s villa that Jane was staying in. But at the last minute Lisa’s father had been rushed into hospital with a suspected heart attack, and this very week was undergoing a delicate operation. The conversation she’d had with Lisa the night before her departure had been rushed, but her friend had been insistent.

‘Janey, if you don’t go then I’ll feel guilty on top of everything else. Anyway, you’ll be doing us a favour. No one has been at the house for months, and it needs to be aired, so look at it like that.’

‘But I can’t just leave when you might need me most…’

‘Look,’ Lisa pointed out, ‘you know my family. It’ll be like Picadilly Circus in the hospital, and we’ve been assured Dad is going to be fine…Seeing your little face here would only upset me, and I mean that in a good way.’

She knew Lisa was just being brave, that the outcome was anything but assured, and didn’t want to put her under any more pressure.

‘OK, OK.’

Jane had given in. Lisa was right; there wasn’t anything she could do. With a formidable mother, four sisters and three brothers she would only get in the way. And of the three brothers one in particular was intent on pursuing Jane. Not sure how she felt about Dominic, who was lovely, if a little dull, Jane was well aware that the campaign would have been taken up with enthusiasm by Lisa had she had the opportunity.

She got up and wandered over to the railing, shades back on against the glare of the sun, the sea spray catching her every now and then.

She still couldn’t help a little pang of guilt at enjoying her solitude so much. She really hadn’t expected to embrace it, but for the first time in her twenty-six years she was truly alone, without the crushing responsibility she’d carried for so long.

And it felt good!

Looking up from her contemplation of the foaming sea, she saw that they were approaching an island. Something about it, rising majestically from the water, made her shiver—as if someone had just run a finger down her spine. It was a forbidding rock, softened only by the sandy beach and picturesque houses that surrounded the small harbour. The sun glinted off the water as the boat docked and they disembarked. On the jetty, as she waited with the other passengers to be told where to go, her mind wandered back to danger territory, as if it had been waiting patiently in the wings until she’d stopped thinking of other things. She tried to resist, but it was too strong, yet again she re-lived the events of yesterday…that burning moment in the streets near the harbour came flooding back.

She’d escaped the crowded pedestrian area, feeling somewhat claustrophobic, and stumbled into a charming winding street that had been blessedly quiet, with no sign of any tourists. She had looked for a street name to figure out where she was; she wanted to explore more of this sleepy part of the town.

With her map open, trying to walk and read at the same time, she’d been unaware of the approaching corner. She had looked up briefly, there had been a flash of something, and she’d crashed into a wall.

Except it hadn’t been a wall, because a wall wouldn’t have reached out and clamped hard hands on her upper arms. Winded and stunned, the map slipping from her fingers, she’d realised that she’d bumped into a man. Her gaze, on a level with a T-shirt-clad broad chest, had moved up, and up again, before coming face to face with the most beautiful pair of green eyes she’d ever seen—like the green of a distant oasis in the desert—in a dark olive-skinned face, with black brows drawn together forbiddingly. Her jaw had dropped.

It had been only then that she’d become aware of her own hands, curled around his biceps, where they had gone automatically to steady herself. And with that awareness had come the feel of bunched muscle beneath his warm, silky skin. They had flexed lightly under her fingertips as his arms held her, and out of nowhere came a spiking of pleasure so intense and alien through her entire body that she’d felt her eyes open wide in shock. His gaze had moved down to her mouth, and she’d had a weightless, almost out-of-body feeling, as if they hadn’t been in a side street, as if this hadn’t really been happening.

The spell had been jarringly broken when a shrill voice had sounded. Jane’s gaze had shifted with effort to take in a stunning blonde woman rounding the corner, her stream of incomprehensible French directed at the man. His hands had tightened momentarily before he’d dipped from view and come back up with her map in his hand. He’d held it out to her wordlessly, a slightly mocking smile on his mouth. She’d taken it, and before she had even been able to say sorry, or thank you, the blonde had grabbed the man’s attention and with a scant glance at Jane had urged him away, looking at her watch with exaggerated motions. And he had disappeared.

Jane had stood, still stunned, her body energised to a point of awareness just short of pain. She had still been able to feel the imprint of his hands on her arms. She’d lifted fingers to her lips, which had tingled…as if he had actually touched them. It had been just seconds, a mere moment, but she’d felt as though she’d stood there with him for hours. The most bizarre and disturbing feeling. And then she had remembered his enigmatic smile, as if he’d known exactly what effect he was having on her. Arrogant, as if it was expected.

Jane’s reverie ended abruptly as she found that she was following the other tourists onto a small air-conditioned bus. She vowed that that was the last time she would indulge herself in thinking about that man. The last time she would indulge the fantasy she’d had of sitting across a table from him, sharing an intimate dinner, candlelight flickering, picking up the silverware and sparkling glasses. Those green eyes holding hers, not letting her look away. She quashed the silly flutter in her belly and took in the other people on the bus, leaning over to a young couple about her age across the aisle.

‘Excuse me, do you know where we are?’

The woman leant across her boyfriend, replying with a strong American accent. ‘Honey, this is Lézille Island—but you’d know that, coming from the hotel…aren’t you a guest?

‘No!’ Jane clapped a hand to her mouth. ‘I’m not in a hotel…I thought this was just a general trip…’

Dismayed, she wondered what she should do, she hadn’t paid for this trip…She belatedly remembered asking the man if this was the boat to les îles—the islands, in French, which sounded exactly like the name of this island. Lézille. No wonder he had just ushered her on board.

The other woman waved a hand. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I won’t say anything, and no one will notice…you just bagged yourself a free trip!’

Jane smiled weakly. She hated any sort of subterfuge. But maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. She could always follow them back to their hotel afterwards and offer to pay for the trip. She felt a little better with that thought.

The woman told her that they were due to visit a vineyard for some wine-tasting, and afterwards to take in an aerial display. Jane gave in and relaxed, and started to enjoy the mystery tour nature of the trip…this was exactly what she needed.

The vineyard was enormous, with beautifully kept rows of vines. They were shown every part of the winemaking process—which Jane had to admit was more interesting than she would have expected. The name on the bottles sounded familiar—as had the name of the island.

When they emerged at the other end of the buildings, they could see what looked like a medieval castle in the distance. Again she felt that funny sensation…almost like déjà vu.

‘You know this island is owned by a billionaire who lives in that castle?’

Jane looked around the see the friendly woman from the bus. ‘No…no, I don’t know anything about it.’

Her voice lowered dramatically. ‘Well, apparently he owns half the coast too—his family go back centuries…He’s so private, he only allows people to visit a few times a year. There’s all sorts of stories about—’ She broke off when her boyfriend came and dragged her away to see something.

Jane looked back to the castle. It certainly looked as if it could have been around in the Middle Ages. On a small island like this, she guessed it could have been some kind of protective fortress.

After another short trip in the bus, along a picturesque strip of coastline, they were deposited in a big green field, full of wild flowers, with an airstrip at the far end. A dozen planes were lined up in readiness. There was a fiesta-like atmosphere, with families stretched out around the ground with picnics, stalls set up with drinks, food and handicrafts. A small stone building to the side looked like some kind of museum, and on closer inspection Jane discovered that it was. She just gave it a brief look, before wandering over to see the stalls, where she bought some bread and cheese for a light lunch, noticing that everyone else seemed to have brought picnics.

Suddenly her arm was grabbed. ‘We haven’t introduced ourselves. I’m Sherry, and this is Brad. We’re on honeymoon from NewYork. You should stick with us if you’re on your own.’

The woman from the bus barely allowed Jane to get a word in edgeways to introduce herself as they led her away to a spot they had picked out on the grass. It was nice to have the company as she ate her meagre lunch, and they turned out to be very friendly, insisting on sharing their wine and fruit.

After lunch Jane noticed men in flight suits walking towards the small planes from a hangar area, and the crowd got up and started to cheer. Soon there was one last pilot walking to his plane. With the sun in her eyes, he just was a shape in the distance.

A hush went around the field and, wondering at the strange reaction, Jane lifted a hand to shade her eyes—and stiffened when she saw more clearly who it was. It was the man from the street; she was sure of it. He was unmistakable. His impressive build and height set him apart.

Before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet with the rest of the crowd. He had an innately powerful grace, commanding attention as he strode towards the plane. Clearly the leader. On a gesture from him, the other pilots started up.

When he got into the plane, something in Jane’s stomach fell, and she found she couldn’t sit down again and relax. As they took off one by one, he being the last, she unconsciously clenched her fists. The display probably only took fifteen minutes but to Jane it seemed to go on for ever. Her eyes never left his plane, a ball lodging in her gut. She couldn’t explain or fathom the completely irrational fear she felt; she just knew that nothing could move her from the spot until that plane was back on the ground and he walked out, safe.

He flew as though he had a death wish. Dizzying turns and ever increasingly daring stunts had the crowd gasping in unison and clapping. He was the last to land, watched by the other pilots, their respect obvious.

When he stepped out of the plane to thunderous applause, Jane unclenched her fists, noticing that her nails had carved half moons into her palms. Unbelievably she felt anger towards him—this complete stranger!

The sun must be getting to her, she thought, unable to tear her eyes away. As the crowd surged towards the planes, his head turned, and even though at least fifty metres separated them, his gaze caught hers. She had a freefall feeling, couldn’t move. She felt as if he had reached out and touched her with those amazing eyes. With a supremely difficult struggle she turned away, and almost fell to the ground beside the American couple, who were chattering happily, oblivious to her inner turmoil. Maybe she had actually become delusional…conjured him up out of her rampant imagination.

When Brad and Sherry got up to check out the small museum she followed gratefully, feeling inexplicably as if she was escaping something…

She cast a quick glance back towards the planes, unable to help herself. She could just see the top of his dark head, surrounded by people—mainly adoring women from the looks of it.

She turned away resolutely and ducked inside, reassuring herself that by the time they came out all the pilots would be gone. After a few minutes she was feeling somewhat calmer, and walked around taking in the information with genuine interest. From a small plaque that was tucked into a corner she learned about a devastating earthquake at the turn of the century, which had reduced the population of nearly a thousand to a few hundred. It was only in recent decades that the island had begun to thrive again.

Apparently it had been in the hands of one family since the time of the crusades. They were called Salgado-Lézille, and had come originally from Spain. That would explain the hacienda-like houses Jane thought, remembering seeing them dotted around the harbour and elsewhere. And in retrospect there was something vaguely Moorish about the shape of the majestic castle.

She had turned to follow the crush out the door when the light was blocked momentarily and someone came in.

It was him. Even before she saw his face she knew. He scanned the room as people passed by him, and Jane held her breath. Slowly his gaze came to rest on her and stopped. Immediately her heart started to thump and her legs turned to jelly.

He stared at her.

Jane shook herself mentally. This was crazy. How could she be reacting like this again? She turned away and looked back at a document behind the glass, but she could see his shape reflected. He wasn’t moving. She forced herself to walk around the exhibit again and admonished herself. She was going to have to leave sooner or later, and there was no way he would have come in just to stare at her.

But he was. She could feel it.

All she had to do was walk past him. Easy.

She followed the chattering line of other tourists heading out, drawing ever closer to the door, looking anywhere but at the disturbing man and his large, broad-shouldered body leaning insouciantly against the wall. She sensed his dark gaze, hot and heavy upon her, like a physical caress, and trembled.

Now there were only two people in front of her. Why had they stopped? She dampened down her irritation. Her reaction was completely over the top. She just needed to get back out into the fresh air. That must be it, she comforted herself—the heat. As if to prove her point, she felt a trickle of sweat between her breasts.

She could see his long legs crossed at the ankles. She focused on the back of the heavy loud man in front of her. Maybe she could pretend she was with him, ensuring a smooth passage past. She had no idea why it was so important; she just felt it deep in the core of her being.

She was almost beside him now, the breath hitching in her throat. He took up her peripheral vision. She didn’t have to be looking at him to know what he was like. Despite only the brief moment the day before, and her distant view earlier today, she knew she would be able to describe him in detail.

Thick dark hair, swept high off a strong broad forehead. Harsh, vitally masculine face, lines broken only by an aquiline nose, sensually sculpted lips. And those mesmerising eyes, the eyelashes visible even from a distance. His flight suit enhanced his commanding physique.

‘Oh, my God, he is gorgeous.’

You don’t say, Jane thought wryly at Sherry’s indiscreetly loud whisper behind her. Without looking she could feel his sardonic smile. He had heard and understood; he must speak English.

She was almost at the door, almost home free, when her wrist was captured in an electrifying grip by a familiarly strong lean hand. The people behind her jostled, and to avoid a crush she had to move closer, go with the pull of the hand. Her blue eyes huge, she looked up at him.

He drew her in, close to his body, the people pushing past her inadvertently moving her in even closer. She could feel the heat of his thigh, hard against her own through the thin material of her dress.

What was happening?

She looked up, the question on her face, captivated by his gaze, which looked back down at her, lazily assessing. This man who had dominated nearly her every thought since yesterday.

‘What are you looking at?’ she croaked.

‘You,’he answered with deceptive simplicity, and the word rocked through Jane’s body.

‘Who…who are you?’

He didn’t answer, just kept a loose, yet immovable grip on her wrist. She could feel her pulse thumping against the warm skin of his hand like a captured bird. Something in her blood leapt, and excited anticipation built in her belly. The part of her that he had reached yesterday, unknown and alien, was coming to life again…just under his look. He smiled indolently, before his eyes left hers to look her up and down so thoroughly that she felt naked, exposed. A flush spread from her belly all the way up to her neck. She tried to yank her wrist away to no avail; his grip only tightened. He couldn’t possibly remember her, could he?

Nerves made her blurt out, ‘Who do you think you are? How dare you look at me like that…?’

His eyes bored into hers, the green becoming darker, making him look dangerous, ‘You pretend to not recognise me?’

He remembered.

‘No…well, that is, yes. I saw you yesterday in the street…when you bumped into me.’

‘As I recall it was the other way around, n’est ce pas?’

His voice sounded as though it had been dipped in honey treacle, deep and dark, with only the barest hint of an accent, his English flawless. She was finding it hard to concentrate.

‘I was just reading a map. Surely you saw me…’ She cursed the breathless tone in her voice.

He ran a quick glance up and down again. ‘Oh, I saw you all right.’

She saw the amusement lurking in his eyes and she tried to pull away again. This time he let her go, and she felt inexplicably bereft.

‘You should have been looking where you were going. You could have collided with a more…immovable object.’

From what she could remember, all too well, he had been like a wall…a wall of hard-packed muscle. She felt her legs weaken. More than disturbed by the effect he was having on her, she looked at him incensed,

‘The street was empty…it’s hardly a crime to divert one’s attention for a moment.’

He inclined his head in a surprisingly old-fashioned gesture. ‘Maybe we can agree that we were equally to blame.’

She huffed slightly. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘Yet you are the one who seems to be upset about it,’ he pointed out, picking up on her discomfort.

Jane looked around then, and saw that they were alone in the building. Everyone else had disappeared. When had that happened?

She looked out through the door and sighed with relief when she saw the bus, where the others were embarking. She turned to find him right behind her, and stepped back hurriedly.

‘I have to go…that’s my bus leaving now.’

He caught her hand just as she turned away. Her pulse leapt again.

‘Would you do me the honour of being my dinner guest tonight? To…foster a truce and allow me to make amends for my part in our collision.’

He was smooth, and practised, and too, too seductive. Jane shook her head, slightly dazed. He was asking her out for dinner? Her eyes met his. No way, no way, went through her mind. This man was so out of her league that he might as well be from another planet. She didn’t have the wherewithal to sit across a table from him! She’d dissolve in a puddle within minutes. And the way he was looking at her…as though he wanted to have her for dinner!

‘I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly, pulling her hand free. ‘I…I have arrangements made already, but thank you for asking.’

His eyes probed hers for an uncomfortably long moment, and then he shrugged lightly, a shuttered look descending over his face. ‘Very well.’

Now she had offended him, she thought miserably. Without knowing what to say or do, she stepped away and half ran, half walked back to the bus.

She sank into her seat breathing heavily. She felt hot and bothered, her hand still tingling where he had caught it. Jane evaded Sherry’s very pointed look and stared out of the window.

All the way back to the mainland she veered between feeling as if she had made a lucky escape and extreme self-recrimination. Since bumping into him she had thought of little else, even fantasised about having dinner with him, but when she was offered the opportunity what did she do? Refused point-blank.

She didn’t deserve a date with such a man if she couldn’t even handle being asked out. And why had he asked her out? She couldn’t fathom it. She could tell that he was mannerly—perhaps it was a pilot thing, a code of conduct? Although somehow he didn’t look like just a pilot. Her brain began to throb. She couldn’t help but feel as though she had let herself down in some way. She could well imagine Lisa’s reaction.

Back on land, she sighed to herself, trying to catch a glimpse of the island which was too far away to view in the late-afternoon haze. She would just have to put it down to experience. A man like Lisa’s brother Dominic was obviously all she could handle…maybe this was a sign.

When she saw the others get on the bus for their hotel she followed them on board.

Fifteen minutes later they pulled off the road and into a resort. It screamed extreme wealth. Immaculate lawns and manicured gardens led up to a beautiful hacienda-style building, all in white. In the early dusk lights shone from the windows, gauzy curtains fluttering in the breeze. She read the name of the hotel carved discreetly into a low stone wall, and only registered then how well dressed her companions were.

She had tagged on to a day trip from one of the Lézille Hotels. No wonder the name had sounded familiar. The owner of the island obviously also owned this very well-known string of resorts dotted all over the world in prime locations and renowned for their discretion, luxuriousness, exclusivity.

She followed the others into the lobby and they split off in different directions. Just as she went to look for the tourist office Sherry stopped her. ‘Hey, Jane, why don’t you come back here for dinner tonight? You said you were on your own, and we’ve made friends with a guy from Washington DC who works in town…We could make a foursome; he’d love your accent.’

Jane opened her mouth on reflex to say no, and stopped herself. Had she learnt nothing from her recent experience? Here she was, being offered another chance. She smiled at Sherry. ‘I’d love to.’

‘Plus, I want to hear all about your conversation with Mr Gorgeous!’

Jane’s smile faded. They would most certainly not be discussing that. She made a mental note to make sure the conversation never strayed into that area.

Once she had sorted out payment for the trip with a very bemused tour manager she made her way back to the villa.



A few hours later Jane was in a taxi on her way back to the hotel. She hoped that her mystery date was tall. She was five foot nine herself in flats, and if he wasn’t they would look ridiculous. Unlike him—she knew she could wear the highest heels and would still have to look up. Her heart started to thump, just thinking of what it would be like to be on the way to meet him…But you were a chicken and turned him down. As if she needed to be reminded…

The taxi pulled into the front courtyard and Jane made a last-ditch effort to erase his image. She made her way out to the poolside buffet, where she had arranged to meet the others, and Sherry’s madly waving arm caught her attention easily enough—along with the sparkly half-dress she was wearing. She weaved through the tables to get to them, completely oblivious of several admiring glances on the way. And one in particular from the other side of the pool.




CHAPTER TWO


‘JANE! Meet Pete—he split up with his fiancée back home a few months ago and moved here to lick his wounds.’

Jane had to hold back a smile at Sherry’s effervescent indiscretion, and stuck out her hand to the other man. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Jane Vaughan.’

He was pleasantly attractive, with nothing overpowering about him—brown hair, brown eyes, nice smile. No chemistry whatsoever. Jane relaxed, and they settled into a light easy conversation. When the band struck up a slow jazzy tune Pete stood and asked her to dance. As she went into his arms on the dance floor she had to admit that it was all very agreeable. This was much more her scene than the messily overwhelming attraction she had felt for the stranger. Heat induced lust. This she could handle. That…She shivered at the thought.

Pete tightened his arms around her. ‘Hey, are you cold?’

Jane immediately recoiled, surprised at the strength of her reaction. ‘No!’ she said, far too quickly, amending it with a smile. ‘No…just a little tired. Maybe if we could sit down again…’

As they approached the table another woman was leaving and waving gaily at Sherry, who turned gleaming eyes on Jane as she sat down. ‘You’ll never guess what I just found out.’

Jane obediently supplied, ‘What?’

The men took themselves off to the bar, muttering something about women and gossip. It made Jane cringe a little, but Sherry was leaning over the table, saying with a loud whisper, ‘That guy…the gorgeous hunk from earlier…well, don’t look now, but he’s behind you on the other side of the pool, and he’s been looking this way.’

Immediately Jane’s back straightened, and she started breathing faster. She just managed to stop herself from turning around, but Sherry was doing it for her, looking over Jane’s shoulder. A frown marred her pretty features,

‘Shoot—he’s gone. Oh, well…anyway, wait till you hear what I found out from Tilly Brown. He’s Mr Island!’ She looked at Jane as if to say, Don’t you get it? Jane just looked back blankly. What on earth did she mean?

Sherry sighed exaggeratedly. ‘He owns the island we were on today. He’s the billionaire. His name is—get this for a mouthful—Xavier Salgado-Lézille, and he owns this whole complex too. Can you believe that? To think that we saw him and didn’t know. I’m so dumb…’

Jane sat there stunned as Sherry chattered on. It made sense now—his presence, the authority he commanded. She recognised that he must have assumed she was a guest at the hotel. His reaction to her refusal earlier didn’t surprise her now. She doubted that many women would turn down someone like him.

‘And the best thing is,’ Sherry continued, pausing for dramatic effect, ‘he’s a bachelor. Well, actually a notorious playboy, incapable of commitment some say—they call him the Prince of Darkness because he’s so dark and brooding and—’

‘You really shouldn’t listen to idle gossip you know.’

The deep voice beside them could have cut through steel. They both looked up to find the object of their conversation beside the table. The epitome of wealth and sophistication in an impeccable tuxedo. The man who had loomed large in Jane’s imagination for two days now had a name—and an island, a hotel chain, a wine label, a reputation. Her head swirled. Sherry didn’t even have the grace to blush, but Jane did, horribly aware of how they must have looked, their heads close together like conspirators.

‘Why, Mr Salgado-Lézille—why don’t you join us?’

‘Please, Mr Salgado will do. The full name is such a…mouthful…if that’s the right term.’

Jane cringed, going even pinker with embarrassment, and she marvelled at Sherry’s hide, which was as thick as a rhinoceros. He flicked Sherry a dismissive glance and turned his attention to Jane, holding out a hand in a clear invitation to dance. She couldn’t refuse. Especially after what had just happened. Wordlessly she put her hand in his much larger one and felt a tingle go up her arm as he lightly guided her onto the dance floor.

Drawing into his arms, Jane fought for composure. The difference between this man and Pete from only a few moments ago was laughable. This was what she had been afraid of—this melting feeling, a hyper-awareness of every part of her skin, an acute consciousness of the way her body seemed to want to fuse with his. His scent was clean and crisp, with a hint of some indefinably erotic element. The man himself, she guessed.

One arm held her securely, high across her back, his hand curving around to just beside her breast. His other hand held hers lightly against his chest. They said nothing, swaying together in perfect unison. When the song ended he held her fast when she would have pulled away until another number started up.

‘Don’t you think you owe me at least one more dance?’

Jane lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. ‘Of…of course.’

His eyes glinted in the flickering light of the candles all around them, a small hard smile playing around his mouth. As they started to move again she felt she had to say something, blurting out, ‘I’m sorry about Sherry…That is, I don’t even really know her. I’d hate for you to think that you were the subject of our…’ She trailed off, reminding herself that she had been listening to Sherry with bated breath. ‘I thought you were just one of the pilots…’

Even as the words came out she wanted to grab them back. But it was too late. She couldn’t mistake the cynical edge to his voice,

‘Ah…I should have known. It is much easier to accept a dance, or dinner for that matter, from the owner of a hotel rather than just a pilot.’

She pulled back as far as he would allow, every line in her body indignant. ‘I didn’t mean it like that…that had nothing to do with anything, Mr Salgado. The reason I declined your invitation earlier was because—’ She broke off. As if she could tell him that the reason she’d turned him down was because her reaction to him had scared the life out of her.

‘Well?’ he prompted softly, one dark brow lifted.

‘I…I, well, as you can see I had made arrangements with Sherry and Brad.’ She crossed her fingers, hating the lie, but self-preservation was more important. ‘I’m not actually staying here…I’m alone, staying at a friend’s villa on the hill. I ended up on the day trip by mistake earlier, and they invited me for dinner.’

It wasn’t a complete lie, she reassured herself. Their invitation had just come after his.

He frowned slightly. ‘The tour manager told me about someone who had inadvertently ended up on a trip coming in afterwards to pay…was that you?’

‘I guess so…unless there was someone else.’

‘Quite an enigma, aren’t you? Miss…?’

‘Vaughan. Jane Vaughan.’

He stepped back for a moment and made a courteous bow, taking her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Vaughan.’

And then he kissed her hand. She could feel his lips firm and yet soft against her skin, and the fluttering excitement grew stronger in her belly.

‘Let’s start again,’he said, in a low seductive voice, tucking her into him even closer than before.

Jane fought an internal battle for a few seconds and then gave in. It was too strong…this…whatever it was that she was feeling. She allowed her head to fall into the crook of his neck and shoulder, closing her eyes. A perfect fit.

His hand on her back was moving in slow sensuous circles, grazing her bare skin. She could feel her breasts grow heavier, sensitive against the material of her dress. When he shifted subtly she could feel the thrust of his arousal low against her belly. She pulled back for a second, but Xavier felt it and caught her even closer, growling into her ear, ‘You can’t move now. Everyone will see what you’re doing to me.’

Jane blushed scarlet to the roots of her hair. The next few minutes were an exercise in erotic torture. She had never felt anything like this in her life. Completely unaware of everyone around them. Burning up.

Finally, when she feared her very legs weren’t capable of holding her up any more, he pulled back, but held onto her hand. Dark green eyes glittered into blue ones.

‘Let’s get out of here.’

She nodded mutely. She was being swept away on a tidal wave of feelings and sensations. Sanity tried to break through her consciousness but she pushed it aside. She couldn’t let this second chance slip away.

They were in the alcove that led outside to the front of the building and the gardens. Muslin drapes fluttered around them, acting as a shield between the lobby and the main entrance. Jane stopped suddenly. ‘Wait!’ She turned horrified eyes to his. ‘I can’t just leave…I’m with people…Pete.’

How could she have forgotten and be so unquestionably rude? No matter what wild spirit seemed to have taken her over, there was no excuse for leaving so abruptly. And, more to the point, the fact that this man had made her take leave of her senses so easily caused a panicky sensation in her belly.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at her and took in her expressive face. He had forgotten about her companions too…all he had been aware of was getting her out of there to some private place where he could explore that lush mouth and—

‘I’m sorry, Mr Salgado—’

‘Xavier, please…’

She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. ‘I’ll have to go back to the others. I really can’t just run out on them like this.’

She hoped that the regret in her voice didn’t sound too obvious. But the heavy disappointment in her chest dispelled any panic. He’d wouldn’t indulge her again. No doubt he thought she must be playing some game with him. She watched with dismay as he seemed to concur.

‘You are right. It would be remiss of me to take you away. But be under no illusion that if you weren’t obliged to return then right now I would be doing this…’

Before she knew what was happening he had pulled her close, one arm around her back, the other cradling her head, covering her mouth with his. Taking advantage of her startled sigh, he expertly plundered the moist interior, exploring, tracing her lips. When his tongue sought and found hers, stroking with sure mastery, a white-hot flame of desire raced through her body. Her hands clenched on his shoulders in reaction. She was lost in the moment…and in him.

Reluctantly Xavier lifted his head to look down. She took a second to open glazed eyes, lashes long against her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted slightly. He felt the tremor in the body held tightly against his. She would be his, of that he had no doubt. He had branded her.

Jane stepped back and tried to control her breathing, just managing to stop herself from bringing a hand up to feel her lips. Crazily, she felt as if he had just marked her in some way. She had heard about kisses like that, and thought it was some pathetic fantasy, or Lisa waxing lyrical about her latest obsession…but it wasn’t. If he hadn’t stopped when he had…

She had been reduced to mush by little more than a kiss.

‘Yes…well…I…have to…’

‘Have lunch with me tomorrow.’

He still wanted to see her?

She looked at him helplessly. She felt like a moth that was being attracted to a flame with danger written all over it, but the pull was so inexorable that she couldn’t help herself. She took a deep breath. The new Jane. Quash the panic. She felt shaky.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Which villa are you staying at?’

She told him the address.

‘Bien. I will pick you up at midday…till then.’

He strode back into the lobby and got into the lift without a backward glance.

Jane wandered back out to the poolside table in a daze. Sherry squealed when she saw her arrive. Remarkably, the men still hadn’t returned from the bar. Jane felt as though whole lifetimes had passed since Xavier had asked her to dance.

She fielded Sherry’s questions, being as vague as possible. When the men arrived back poor Pete didn’t stand a chance. He tried to press a kiss to her lips before she left at the end of the evening, but she gave him her cheek. Somehow the thought of anyone else kissing her where Xavier had was anathema.

She didn’t see the look of triumph on the face of the man watching from his penthouse suite overlooking the pool.

Back in the villa, Jane couldn’t settle and went up to the terrace which overlooked the twinkling lights of the town below, still feeling slightly dazed. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, who she hoped was enjoying much the same view. She was on her honeymoon in Cyprus, with Arthur, the man she’d met a year previously. Jane thought of the recent wedding day with a smile. How proud she had been to give her mother away to such a kind, gentle man. If anyone deserved another stab at happiness it was she.

Since her father had died at just thirty, leaving her mother penniless, with Jane still a baby, it had been a monumental struggle. Her mother had changed overnight from a relatively carefree newlywed to a woman who had had to seek work to make ends meet. Sometimes she worked three jobs at once, just to put food on the table and get Jane through school and then college, despite Jane working too to help out.

Even when Jane had finished her degree and had begun working as a teacher her mother had refused money, insisting that she build up a nest egg for herself.

Years of worry and work had sapped her mother’s joy and increased Jane’s concern. But now…now she was allowing herself to feel love and happiness again, and if she could embrace a new lease on life then so could Jane.

Starting tomorrow.

With a shiver of anticipation snaking down her spine she finally left the view.




CHAPTER THREE


WHEN she woke the next morning Jane couldn’t believe she had slept at all—much less for…She consulted her watch in disbelief—ten hours straight. Which meant, she realised with a lurch of panic, that she had exactly one hour before Xavier was due to pick her up for lunch.

She sprang out of bed and after a quick shower regarded her wardrobe, plucking a pair of white culottes from the messy pile, and a striped white and black halterneck top. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, and with espadrilles and a pair of hoop earrings was just about ready to go downstairs when the doorbell rang.

Already!

She took a few deep breaths and walked to the front door, trying to calm the butterflies in her belly.

Be cool, be calm, be sophisticated.

She opened the door, the smile on her face fading and her mouth going dry when she took in the man in front of her. Pure devastation. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest, showing his muscles off to perfection. He wore a casually faded black T-shirt and jeans, scuffed deck shoes on his bare feet. She could feel her face colour as she brought her eyes back up. She had just examined him…and blatantly!

She couldn’t see his eyes, as they were hidden behind dark shades, but she saw all too well the way his mouth quirked.

‘I hope I pass inspection?’

What could she do? She had been caught out beautifully. She had to smile, revealing small, even white teeth and a dimple in her cheek.

‘You’ll do.’

She bent down to pick up her bag, where she’d stuffed her bikini and a sarong among other bits and pieces, not sure what he had planned, and pulled the door behind her, careful to lock it securely. He took the bag from her and led the way to his car. She was glad to see that although it was a convertible it wasn’t one of those tiny low-slung things that she privately thought looked ridiculous.

As he negotiated his way down the small winding streets with casual expertise she started to relax and look around. She was very aware of his tanned hands on the wheel, moving to the gear-stick near her leg, and of the long fingers with short square nails. She swallowed and quickly put on the shades that had been resting on her head in case he caught her staring again.

‘How long are you here for?’ he asked idly.

‘Just another week; I’ve already been here for one. This is such a treat.’

‘What is?’

Nerves made her babble. ‘To be taken out…driven around. I have a hire car, but this place is like a labyrinth…The first day it took me an hour to find my way back up the hill from the town.’

‘I know…it is getting crazier, with more and more tourists…We’re hoping that they’ll make the centre of the town entirely for pedestrians only; it’s small enough, so it could work.’

His comment reminded her who she was dealing with. He wasn’t just a local, he was the local. She felt intimidated all of a sudden.

He cast a curious glance her way. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

She shrugged lightly, honesty prevailing. ‘I know this might sound silly, but I keep forgetting that you are…who you are. You own that entire island…that hotel chain. I guess it’s just a little overwhelming. I bump into you in the street two days ago and now here I am in your car.’ She gave a nervous laugh.

Xavier looked over at her sharply, but she had her face averted. Well, this was a new approach—and one that he hadn’t encountered before. Was she for real? More or less hinting that she’d be more comfortable with him if he were just a pilot? He’d never had to reassure a woman before by playing his status down…normally they wanted him to play it up! Well, if this was a game that she was playing then he would play along. She was intriguingly different from any other woman he’d ever known. Whether it was artifice or not he didn’t much care. He wasn’t planning on getting to know her too well…just well enough.

His glance took in the long shapely legs beside him. He could imagine how they might feel wrapped around his naked back. He grew hard there and then, much to his chagrin. He wasn’t used to being at the mercy of hormones he had long ago learnt to control. A woman hadn’t had the power to ignite his desire so forcibly since…ever, he realised. He focused on the road, hands gripping the wheel. Only one way to exorcise this hunger raging in his blood.

He forced himself to say lightly, ‘Ah, so you admit now that you were the one who bumped into me?’

Jane cast him a quick glance, relieved to see him flash her a teasing smile.

Lord, but he was gorgeous. She couldn’t answer, nervously touching her tongue to dry lips.

‘I thought we’d take a little trip on my boat. I know a cove near here that’s usually deserted. We can swim and have a picnic.’

She was going to forget everything and enjoy this moment for what it was. She was being given a second chance…her fantasy was coming true…and she was smart enough not to sabotage it again. She hoped.

‘That sounds lovely.’

After he had parked the car and lifted out a hamper, he led her into a private marina, where yacht after yacht was lined up, bobbing on the water. His was a small sleek speed boat, with a tiny cabin down below.

‘This is how you get to and from the island?’

‘Yes…or I use the helicopter. This takes fifteen minutes.’

Of course…the helicopter!

It was hard to keep her intimidation at bay when he threw out such admissions of extreme wealth. She forgot everything, though, as he helped her into the boat, big hands curling around her waist to steady her, just under her breasts. Suddenly breathless, she moved away quickly to the other end and looked anywhere but at him. She could see the tourists in the distance, lining up for their day trips. That had been her yesterday, and if she hadn’t tagged onto that particular queue…

He showed her where to sit back and relax as he started up the engine and they pulled out into the open water. The breeze felt wonderfully cool on Jane’s skin, and she closed her eyes, lifting her face to the sun.

When she opened them again she found Xavier staring at her from behind the wheel, shades on his head. He didn’t look away. The gleam in his eyes was explicit, and Jane’s pulse started to speed up and throb through her veins. That kiss last night came back in vivid Technicolor, the feel of his chest against hers…She was the one to break contact first, putting on her sunglasses again. His mouth quirked in a mocking smile, the same one he had smiled in the street, aware of his effect. She tried not to let it unsettle her.

Leaving the harbour and marina behind, Xavier hugged the coast for a while. Jane was enthralled by the view of all the huge estates visible from their vantage point. They couldn’t really talk over the sound of the engine, but she was happy to drink in the sight of him when she was sure she couldn’t be caught. She’d never been reduced to this level of carnal feeling before. Didn’t know how to handle it.

She could see a small cove come into view, and Xavier negotiated the boat towards it. It looked empty. She was bizarrely both disappointed and excited not to have company, but if she was honest with herself she knew which feeling won out.

When he had anchored a short way from the shore he indicated the cabin below. ‘Why don’t you change into your swimsuit here? That way you can leave your things on board.’

‘Sure.’ Jane feigned a nonchalance that she was far from feeling.

Down below in the small cabin, she changed with awkward haste, half terrified that he’d come down the ladder. Her bikini had felt perfectly adequate up until today, but now she pulled at it ineffectually and tried to stretch it out. Had it shrunk? Somehow it felt as if it had become the skimpiest two-piece on earth since she had last worn it, and she was very conscious of her skin, still pale despite a slight tan. She chastised herself. He was no doubt used to seeing women baring a lot more, especially in this part of the world.

When she emerged from the cabin her skin was still gleaming from an application of suncream. Xavier’s breath stopped in his throat as she was revealed bit by bit. Like a lust-controlled youth, he couldn’t take his eyes off her chest, full and generous, yet perfectly shaped. She had tied a sarong around hips that flared out gently from a small waist. She looked shy and uncertain, as if she couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, which were hidden behind his dark lenses. Unbidden, and as swift as his physical response, came a desire to reassure and protect. Alien and unwelcome emotions when it came to him and women. Especially ones he’d known for less than forty-eight hours.

He masked it speaking more brusquely than he’d intended. ‘The water should only be waist-deep here, so you can wade ashore.’

He had to stop himself staring when she took off her sarong to reveal a curvy bottom and those never-ending legs…Her self-consciousness was at odds with her body. A body made for pleasure. His pleasure.

When Jane hit the water she welcomed the distraction from the fever racing in her blood. Tried to block out the potent image of the man leaning over the edge.

‘OK?’

‘Yes…fine.’

She half-swam, half-waded to the shore, grateful for the moment to herself. However impressive she had thought his physique while under clothes, it hadn’t prepared her for seeing him half naked. He should come with a health warning. He was the most perfect man she had ever seen. She’d tried to avoid looking, but it was impossible not to take in that expanse of bare, toned, exquisitely muscled chest. A light smattering of dark hair led down in a silky line to where his shorts…She gulped as she rested on the sand.

He was wading towards her, with the hamper held aloft in his arms, dark hair gleaming wetly against his head. Strong-muscled legs strode out of the water towards her. She had spread her sarong out on the sand, and was glad of the need for sunglasses and the protection, however slight, they afforded her. She brought her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them in another unconscious gesture of protection.

To her relief, he was businesslike. Coming to rest beside her on the sand, he opened up the basket, taking out a light blanket. He spread it out and started to take out a mouthwatering array of food. Olives, bread, cheese, houmous…sliced ham, chicken wings, pâté.

‘There’s enough food here to feed an army.’

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start.’

‘Why don’t we start here?’ he said, uncorking a bottle of champagne that came in its own encasing to ensure it stayed chilled. He filled two glasses and handed one to her.

‘To…meeting you.’

‘To meeting you.’ She echoed his words, not sure what to say.

A funny feeling lodged in her chest as she took a sip, the bubbles tickling her nostrils. As he busied himself preparing her a selection of food to pick from on a plate, she couldn’t help but shake the feeling that this was all a little too smooth…practiced, even—as if he had done it a thousand times before.

‘Do you come here often?’ she asked lightly, trying to make it sound like a joke.

He stopped what he was doing and looked at her sharply. ‘Do you mean have I brought women here before? Then the answer is yes.’

She was taken aback by his honesty. He hadn’t tried to temper his words, or make her feel better. Somehow it comforted her. Although the thought of being the latest in a long line of undoubtedly more beautiful women caused some dark emotion to threaten her equilibrium, which she was barely clinging on to as it was.

‘I can tell you, though, that it hasn’t been for some time. And there probably haven’t been half as many as you seem to be imagining. I’ve come here since my teens, and it’s a favourite hang-out for friends of both sexes…not some place purely to seduce women.’

‘Oh…well, of course. I never thought for a second—’

‘Yes, you did—but I suppose I can’t blame you.’

A blush crept up over her face and she turned her attention to the food, hoping to distract him and get off the subject. She could envisage a neon sign above her head with an arrow pointing downwards saying—Gauche!

She crossed her legs and helped him to put out the food. If anything had ever helped her to take her mind off things then it was food. She tucked in healthily. After the first few mouthfuls she looked up to find him staring.

‘What?’ She wiped her mouth with a napkin. ‘Have I got some food somewhere?’

He shook his head, taking his glasses off. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a woman eat the way you do. You look like you could keep going until everything is gone.’

She smiled wryly. ‘My appetite is legendary, I’m afraid. You’ve probably met your match. I’ve never been a delicate eater…’

He nodded towards her. ‘Keep going, please—I’m enjoying the novelty of watching a woman relish her food.’

Suddenly self-conscious, she took a sip of champagne to wet her throat and forced herself to keep eating as nonchalantly as possible. But now his attention was focused on her it was impossible. He seemed to be fixated by her mouth. She swallowed a piece of cheese with difficulty.

‘The history of your island seems fascinating…what I read of it in the exhibit space. Has your family really been there for centuries?’

Thankfully he finally took his gaze away. ‘Yes. They were given the island as a gift by the French royal family in the twelfth century. We originally came from Aragon, in Spain. The royals in the north wanted to establish allies in the south. We took the name of the island and added it to Salgado…hence my name today.’

‘And are there many in your family now?’

His voice was curiously unemotional. ‘No, just me left…Hard to believe that the line could very well die out with me. I was the first born, and my mother passed away when I was five…my father never married again, and he died when I was in my early twenties.’

Jane pushed her glasses up onto her head, her eyes wide and sympathetic. ‘I’m sorry…he must have loved her a great deal…and to lose both parents so young…My father died when I was small too—a baby. But at least I still have my mother.’

Xavier looked into her eyes and felt an unfamiliar sensation, almost like losing his footing. How had they got onto this subject?

She gazed out to the sea and shook her head.

‘I just remembered what I read about the earthquake…it must have affected your family?’

He followed her look. ‘Yes, it did…all of them perished apart from my great-grandparents…not to mention many of the islanders. Whole families were wiped out.’

‘That’s awful. It must have taken generations to begin to forget, rebuild lives…’

He nodded. ‘We built a commemorative grotto to their memory on the island some years ago. There are hundreds of names inscribed.’

She turned shining eyes on him, stunning him again momentarily. ‘That sounds like a lovely thing to do. I wish I’d seen it…how come the tour didn’t go there?’

He shrugged. ‘It’s small, and wouldn’t mean much to anyone else. It’s a very personal space for the islanders.’

He regarded her profile. ‘If you want you could come back there with me tomorrow and I’ll show it to you.’

‘Would you really?’

She couldn’t control the surge of excitement that took hold at the thought of seeing him again the next day.

He nodded. They didn’t speak for a few moments, and then he started to pack away some food but refilled her glass. He avoided her eye.

‘I’m going for a quick swim, but you should let your food settle for a while.’

She had to smile inwardly at his arrogant assumption that he was somehow immune to cramp after eating. Which, she had to admit as she watched his powerful back and legs walk away from her, he probably was. Immune to banal mortal complaints.

She lay back on her sarong, feeling deliciously relaxed and replete. The sky was hazy, the sun blissfully not beating down with full force. The lapping of the waves lulled her into a light sleep.

A while later she woke with a start…She looked to her side, to see Xavier stretched out beside her. The basket was gone and there was nothing between them. His eyes were closed, lashes long and dark against high cheekbones. He really was beautiful.

‘Do I pass inspection again?’ he asked, opening one eye, fixing her.

She sat up quickly to hide her mortification. ‘I think I’ll go for a swim now…’

‘I’ll join you.’ And with lithe grace he stood up beside her and held out a hand. She looked at it warily for a moment before taking it.

The initial cool of the waves lapping against her feet woke her up better than a pail of water over her head.

She extricated her hand from his, and once in far enough dived headlong into the first big wave, swimming underwater for as long as her breath held out.

She popped up to the surface some way off and shook her head. The sun glinting off the water was dazzling. She looked around and could see Xavier’s sleek head, arms gracefully scissoring through the water as he swam powerfully towards her. She trod water, breathing far more heavily than was normal after what she had just done.

He came within a couple of feet of her. They just looked at each other. Simultaneously his arms reached for her, and she felt herself gravitate towards him as if being pulled by a magnetic force until she was in his arms. It felt completely right…inevitable.

He brought her arms around his neck and instinctively she wrapped her legs around his waist to steady herself. She was out of her depth…in more ways than one.

Seduced by the place, by him, and her resolve to embrace the moment, she gave in to a powerful desire. Slowly she dipped her head towards his, eyes closing as she felt the hard, sensual contours of his lips. His arms were like a steel band around her waist.

With naive boldness she explored his lips, feeling their shape and texture. One of his hands moved up to the back of her head and he angled it, his tongue sliding between her lips to taste and explore. Hesitantly she allowed him access.

A molten urgent feeling was building between her legs, the centre of her desire. She could feel the friction against his chest, and just below her bottom she could feel a hard ridge. Realizing what it was made her gasp.

He tore his lips from hers and looked down. Her nipples were two hard points thrusting against the wet material of her bikini.

He brought smoky green eyes up to hers and shifted her subtly, so that now he carried her in his arms and out of the water.

Jane knew that if he had put her down her legs would have given way, and was thankful he didn’t as he walked up the beach and laid her down on the sarong, stretching out his long length beside her. He looked down her body, a hand resting possessively on her stomach, its gentle feminine swell.

‘So beautiful…’

‘So are you,’ she said shyly.

The sun was blocked as his head dipped again to take her mouth, slowly, languorously. As if they had all the time in the world to touch, explore. She arched herself towards him slightly, a hand reaching out blindly to rest against his chest, revelling in the feel of the surprisingly silky hair, finding a hard nipple, circling it experimentally before flicking it accidentally with a nail.

He tore his mouth away with a moan. ‘Let’s see how you like that.’

Before she could question what he was doing, he had lowered his mouth to one jutting peak, sucking through the wet material of her top. An exquisite burst of pleasure made her cry out. He was relentless, and she gasped when he finally pulled the material aside to reveal the dark peak, raw and aroused. The feel of his tongue on her bare skin made her almost pass out with pleasure, and then he moved to the other side.

Jane barely recognised this wanton version of herself. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding his head in case he might pull away. She was caught up…caught up in uncharted territory…powerless to do anything but feel…respond.

She could feel him drifting a hand down over her belly, to rest near the top of her briefs. Toying with her, moving in slow sensuous circles, before his fingers moved down…under the elastic, over the mound of soft hair…down further, until…

She held her breath, her body tensing as his fingers dipped into her most secret place, exploring, rubbing back and forth over the most sensitive part, which she could feel getting slicker, harder. It was too much. No one had ever touched her there.

Her legs came together, trapping his hand, but he gently manoeuvred them apart again.

A very strident child-like squeal made them both tense.

In a haze of pleasure that was fast receding Jane became aware of Xavier reacting quicker than her, adjusting her bikini back over her body, which felt acutely sensitised.

‘We have company…pity,’ he drawled, making sure she was decent again, and then he looked down into her shocked eyes.

Sure enough another boat was pulling into the small cove, and a gang of children were starting to jump down from a yacht into the water, splashing and swimming towards the beach. Thankfully they were far enough out not to have seen anything…she hoped.

She wanted the sand to rise up around her and suck her down. A mortified flush burned her skin as she thought of what would have happened if they hadn’t arrived. He must think her so…easy. Bring her to a deserted stretch of beach, ply her with a little champagne and food, and she was a possessed woman in his arms, with little or no encouragement. The worst cliché of a tourist looking for a quick holiday fling.

She thrust herself away from him and sat up, gathering her sarong around her waist and tying it in a knot.

‘This has been…lovely…but we probably should be getting back. I’m sure you have lots of important things to be doing.’

She couldn’t even look at him. She stood up awkwardly and a soft gasp escaped her lips as she felt him whirl her around to face him. She couldn’t escape his eyes, which probed far deeper than the surface. They were oblivious to the people arriving onto the beach only feet away from them.

‘Lovely…?’ He shook his head incredulously. ‘Correct me if I’m wrong, but if we hadn’t been interrupted, right about now I think you would be fast approaching a climax.’

She blanched at the starkness of his words.

‘Lovely is a little bit of an understatement, don’t you think, for what two people seem to be able to ignite in each other within seconds or with just a look?’

‘I…I…well, maybe…’

His eyes were hypnotic. ‘The most important thing on my mind at the moment is exploring this attraction between us.’

‘It is?’

‘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.’





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