The Spaniard's Inconvenient Wife (13 page)

So much so that when one of those wicked hands moved away, slipping lower, she moaned another protest, only to let it subside into a sigh of delight as the warm fingers found a new way to tantalise, sliding into the tight space between her body and the fit of her trousers, cupping her buttocks, stroking her hips.

She was in such a delirium of needy pleasure that she didn’t notice that they had stopped, the car drawing to a halt, the driver saying something to Ramón. When he hastily straightened up, pulling away from her, removing his hand,
she muttered a petulant protest, catching hold of his jaw as he lifted his head, trying to pull it back down to her.

‘Estrella!’ Ramón’s voice was a blend of exasperated reproach and wicked laughter in the darkness of the now-silent car. ‘We’re here! We’ve arrived.’

Then, as she blinked in stunned awakening from the fever that had held her he caught her face in his hands, pressed a swift, hard kiss on her parted lips.

‘Just wait,
mi Estrella,
my little sex kitten. Wait. Paco is not staying—he will just unload the cases, and go. I will get rid of him as quickly as I can, I promise you. And then you will be all mine. Be patient—but stay hungry.’

Stay hungry! Estrella reflected dazedly. How could she do anything else when every nerve was screaming with the need for fulfilment he had woken in it, when she couldn’t think, couldn’t speak, could only feel?

Somehow she staggered out of the car, kept upright only by the muscular arm that Ramón clamped around her waist, holding her tight against the strong support of his body. He didn’t let go for a moment and Estrella could only be grateful for his help, knowing that her blurred eyesight, the unsteady feeling in her legs, would soon have resulted in her collapsing in a pitiable heap on the floor if he were ever to loosen his grip. But at the same time as that powerful support was a source of comfort, it also caused her a new wave of agony as it intensified and added to the explosive hunger deep inside, making her want him more than ever before.

She barely noticed how Ramón supervised the offloading of their bags, was only vaguely aware of his thanks to Paco, the inordinately generous tip he gave the chauffeur to speed him on his way. She wouldn’t have known if it was night or day, when Ramón kicked the door shut and turned to her, only that now, at last, they were alone.

‘Alone…’

It was the only word she’d attempted for a while and she was stunned to find that she could actually manage it, even if her voice did sound so raw and croaky that it seemed to come from a very sore throat indeed.

‘Alone,’ Ramón echoed. ‘And still hungry.’

S
TILL
hungry…

If it had been a question, not a statement, Ramón didn’t wait around for an answer. He didn’t even bother to put the lights on, but swung Estrella up into his arms and headed for the stairs, finding his way in the darkness with the ease of a cat.

The bedroom was full of moonlight, bright enough to see by. Not that Ramón gave her any chance to look round. Even as he let her slide to the ground his hands were busy peeling off the jacket, ripping away the insubstantial clinging top. Her bra was still unfastened after his attentions earlier and that too was flung away, tossed into some dark corner of the room.

The next stage took a little longer. Not because Ramón fumbled or hesitated, but because he set himself to kiss his way over her body, starting at the top of her head, and moving down, down…

Estrella felt the warmth of his mouth on her face, on her nose, briefly on her lips, before it continued on its sensual journey, devoting such time and attention to her shoulders, her breasts, the softness of her stomach where his tongue traced the indentation of her navel, that by the time he reached the slight barrier of her trousers she was already a trembling wreck, longing to sink to her knees on the floor.

But, ‘No,’ Ramón muttered as her nerveless body started to sag. He pushed her upright again, warning her with a flash of molten silver eyes to stay where she was while his
hands dispensed with the remaining items of her clothing, sliding them down onto the floor at her feet.

Still his kisses went on, lower, and lower, through the curls at the joining of her thighs, along the smooth inner skin of her legs. But when he kissed her intimately she couldn’t stop herself.

‘Ramón!’ she sighed protestingly, reaching down to clutch at his wide shoulders, needing something to support her. ‘Ramón, please. I want you—I need you.’

He needed no further encouraging. He didn’t even get up off his knees, but tumbled her backwards onto the big cushiony bed. And he came with her, his long body covering hers, his kisses driving her to distraction so that she clutched at him, tugging his clothes from him, fumbling with the belt at his waist, muttering aloud in her impatience and need.

‘Steady!’ Ramón laughed, but steady was the last thing she felt.

With a small choking cry in her throat she freed him, reaching for the hot hardness of him, only to be thwarted when he caught her wanton hands in one of his.

‘No!’ he muttered. ‘That won’t do. Not now…’

Lifting her hands above her head and pinioning them there on the pillows, he was already sliding between her thighs, using the pressure and strength of one hard, hair-roughened leg to part hers. In the space of a couple of heartbeats from the moment when she had fallen backwards onto the bed, he was lying between her thighs, the force of his erection already pushing at the core of her femininity.

There was a wild streak of colour on his broad cheekbones, and the eyes that burned down into her had a febrile glitter that spoke of just how close to the edge he was himself.

‘What I want is this…’

On the last word he pushed himself into her, finding her
already so aroused and hungry for him that the single powerful thrust almost pushed her over the edge in a moment.

But he wasn’t prepared to let her climax quite that fast. Instantly he stilled, subjecting her already-throbbing body to yet more kisses, more caresses, finding every waiting, nerve, greedy for sensation, every pleasure spot she had ever known, and some she hadn’t even been aware existed. Eyes closed, Estrella flung her head back on the downy pillows, thrashing from side to side, wondering how much more she could endure, wanting it to go on and on—and yet also desperate to know that vital soaring moment of release before she exploded.

‘Oh, Ramón—please…’

It was all she could manage. Every fuse in her mind had blown, her eyes were blind, her ears deaf. She was locked into the sensations that drove her so close to distraction— and never quite there.

‘Please, please, please, please!’

In the end she was reduced to begging, knowing she could take no more. And at last he started to move, her own name suddenly a muttered litany on his lips, his voice husky and raw with loss of restraint, his breath warm and ragged on her face.

It seemed that he had been barely holding himself in check too, his stillness the only thing that had kept him from losing control. Because it was only a second or two before his long body clenched, his jaw tightening on a muttered curse.

The next moment any hold they had on actuality slipped totally away. There was no sight, no sound, nothing in the world but each other and the wild sensations they were creating together. Another choking cry escaped her, only to be crushed back down her throat by the force of his lips. And in the same instant the white hot explosion of delight over
powered her, throwing her out of reality and into a world of stars and meteors and blinding, brilliant light.

It was a long, long time before Estrella’s thought processes started to work again. Slowly her head stopped spinning, her breathing slowed, her heart rate settled down to a normal patter once more. But she felt worn out, exhausted by the long, emotional day, drifting in and out of sleep several times before she finally stirred, groaned, blinked her eyes, stretched…

And froze as something communicated itself to her through the silence in the room.

It was not the comfortable silence she had expected. Not the close, comfortable silence of two people who had just made wild passionate love, exhausting themselves so that they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

She was not in Ramón’s arms. In fact, Ramón was…

Where was Ramón?

Forcing her eyes open, she struggled up to a half-sitting position, leaning on one elbow, staring round, to see Ramón sitting on the edge of the bed.

‘What are you doing?’

Without a word needing to be spoken, she felt every sense sounding a fearful alarm, warning her of danger. She was still totally naked, though someone—Ramón, obviously— had pulled a sheet over her as she slept. But he was fully dressed in the black trousers and white shirt she had tugged off him such a short time before. And he was watching her through disturbingly cold, assessing eyes.

‘What—what are you doing?’

‘Waiting for you to wake up.’ The words were as cold as his icy glare, chilling her right through to her heart in the time it took to draw in a single, uneven breath.

‘Why? Has something happened? Is something wrong?’

His smile froze her blood, and a cold, cruel hand gripped the nerves in her stomach and twisted hard.

‘Of course not—everything’s gone exactly as you expected it.’

‘As I…? I don’t know what you mean.’

She actually looked bemused, Ramón reflected cynically, seeing the frown that drew her brows together, the dazed expression in her eyes. She actually looked as if she didn’t know what he meant. He wanted to laugh out loud at the fact that she was even trying to act a part he knew she wasn’t qualified for. But at the same time, deep down and unwanted in his heart was the reluctant, uncomfortable thought that maybe, just maybe she didn’t know what he was talking about.

No, that couldn’t be… She had to know.

‘You got just what you wanted.’

‘Oh—yes.’ Smiling, she stretched luxuriously. ‘Yes, I did.’

Her smile was like a stiletto blade sliding into his heart, creating a wound that, while agonising, was not yet fatal— not yet. Was he fool enough to still want to cling on to the possibility that she might not have used him as badly as he had thought?

‘And you.’

Suddenly she sat upright, pulling the sheet with her.

‘You did get what you wanted, didn’t you? This isn’t because my father went back on the deal?’

He shook his dark head, but the gesture did nothing to ease the hard, tense set of his handsome features. They remained as cold and distant as ever.

‘Oh, no—your
papá
was only too keen to sign on the dotted line.’

Of course he was. Ramón wanted to shake his head again, but this time in despair at himself. He should have learned
from old Alfredo—like father, like daughter should have been his watchword. But instead he’d let other, weaker feelings drive him.

‘So what are you in such a bad mood about?’

‘I’ve been thinking about our marriage…’

And he hadn’t come to any damn conclusions. Earlier he had told himself that this changed nothing. That he had known she wasn’t marrying him for love or anything like, so why should the realisation that she had lied about why she was not marrying for love change anything?

‘So have I.’

Sliding towards him on the mattress, she put a hand on his arm, stroked the skin exposed where he had pushed up the sleeves of his shirt.

‘It was the first thing in my mind when I woke up.’

It was all he could do not to respond. He wanted to respond, dammit; it was hell not responding. Her skin was still pink from the heat of their passion, her eyes heavy, their lids slightly drooping from tiredness, drowsy from sleep. The ridiculously ornate hair style had pulled loose in places in the fury of their lovemaking so that long black strands of it hung, tangled and loose around her face.

His fingers itched to reach up and smooth them back, tuck them behind her ears, but he knew that if he so much as touched her he would never be able to hold back again.

So he forced himself to sit there, cold and stiff as a marble statue, his eyes blanked off, jaw set.

‘Oh, Ramón, that can’t be what’s upset you…’

Moving closer, she rested her head against his shoulder, letting go of the sheet so that it began to slither slowly and seductively down her body.

He knew damn well what was happening. She wanted to distract him, and she was using seduction to do so. But he didn’t want to be distracted. Earlier, in the car, he had told
himself that it didn’t matter. That he had married her because she wanted him and he wanted her—and he still wanted her, more than ever.

It could still work, he’d resolved, he could settle for that. He had settled for that—just now—here on this bed.

And it hadn’t been enough. Not enough to satisfy him— not really. Not enough to wipe from his mind the way that she’d lied to him, used him.

Not enough.

‘We both know that we can make this marriage work.’

She’d lowered her voice to a husky whisper. One that coiled round his nerves, tormented his senses, made the burn of need clutch at him savagely and cruelly—cruelly because he knew he had to fight it. Sex was no answer, even if Estrella believed it was.

Sex would fade—it might even die completely. And what would they be left with then? What would she want when the fun of having him in her power had waned and she looked around for newer toys to play with? Hell, even his mother had actually never schemed to get Juan Alcolar into her bed. She had fallen in love with him totally unexpectedly.

‘We went into it with our eyes open. We both knew what we wanted—and we got it.’

‘But you got so much more than you claimed you wanted.’

That stopped her dead, stilling her so suddenly that she actually left her mouth hanging part way open in stunned amazement. Her black eyes looked as dazed as if someone had slapped her hard in the face and there was a wary expression in them as she turned them on his face.

‘More than—more than… Oh, yes.’

She laughed.

She actually, damn well laughed. Starting as a slightly
nervous giggle, moving into something disturbingly high-pitched and almost out of control, it grated on his raw nerves, notched the tension up several more degrees.

And brought the rage rushing back into his mind.

‘Yes, I got so much more than I ever expected. But I never thought you’d realise that.’

‘Never thought!’

It was a roar of blind fury. Fury and pain in a deadly combination, so that his ability to think straight was blasted, the red haze of wrath flooding his mind until he couldn’t see, could only feel.

He couldn’t stand to be near her any longer. Couldn’t sit here while she cuddled up to him, resting her head on his shoulder, clearly thinking that all she had to do was to kiss him again, to let that damn sheet slip a little lower…

No!
Wrenching himself away from her so savagely that she lost her balance and went sprawling on the bed, he flung himself to his feet in a movement that took him halfway across the room, whirling to face her, glare at her, though the mist before his eyes meant that he couldn’t actually see the details of her lying, conniving face.

‘So you’re admitting to it! Telling me it’s true?’

‘Yes—I think…’

Her voice was only faint through the monstrous buzzing in his ears, and suddenly she stopped, going very still and white.

‘H-how did you know?’

‘Your father, of course!’ Ramón flung at her, biting off the words in his anger. ‘You surely didn’t think he wouldn’t tell me—and enjoy doing it?’

‘My—father…? Ramón, what are we talking about here?’

‘Oh, don’t give me that!’ he exploded. ‘Don’t try to go back on it now, Doña Estrella, not when you’ve already admitted that it was true. You and your father got exactly
what you planned for. You got your marriage—even if only to the tenth on the list—and the inheritance that depended on it. You even got the unexpected bonus of a husband you wanted in your bed. Was that what was wrong with the others, Estrella—that you weren’t hot for them?’

She didn’t try to answer, and even if she had he wouldn’t have listened. Instead he rushed on, driven only by fury.

‘Your father got the return to respectability he wanted— the prospect of a grandchild to inherit—he got some mug to buy his company. And I—I got stitched up completely!’

‘No!’ Estrella tried to put in, but he refused to hear her.

‘Yes, damn you, yes! But no more,
querida!
No more— do you hear me? No more! I’ve had enough—all I can take! You got your marriage, so I hope it was worth it. And you had better hope that what we did tonight, in that bed, had the result your
papá
wanted too. If you really dreamed of presenting him with a grandson for the title and the inheritance, then you’d better start praying that you’re already pregnant. Because if you’re not, then I swear to God that I’ll never damn well touch you again.’