Winning Back His Wife (13 page)

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“
The Love of a Latino”

This was the stuff dreams
were made of. Here on this little, almost unknown, island a man could make his
paradise. The sun, though hot to the average person, was exactly the right
climate for him. The cool summer breeze drifted in from the sea, bringing with
it the cool mist of salty water, minute drops choosing to find their resting
place on the olive-toned color of his skin. It was just what he needed.

Behind the dark-tinted
glasses, Rafe surveyed the scores of beautiful women that lined the popular
beach. They varied in height, skin tone, figure, and even their hair seemed to
be several different textures and shades. It reminded him of Spain. A smile
flittered across his lips as he made a mental note to visit his father’s
homeland a little more often. It was, after all, in his blood. Sure, he lived
in New York and his mother was American, but he was a Spaniard by blood. Why
else would his parents name him Raphael Lopéz Cavos? Why not Jake, or Robert,
or an equally silly American name?

Rafe’s eyes drew to a young
couple walking hand-in-hand along the beach and his heart clenched a little. He
would never have that. Damn, where had the years gone? He’d thought he had time
to live the life of a Bachelor, play the field, and break a few hearts. Who
knew he’d celebrate his thirty-first birthday so soon? Time had run out.

How he wished he’d never made
that stupid promise to
Mamá.
Yet, she’d begged and pleaded and- loving
the woman who’d given birth to him more than anything in the world- he’d given
in. As they had agreed, if he did
not
meet and fall in love by the time
he was thirty-one, he would marry Sarafina and give his mother the grandchild
she so craved.
Dios!
Why did he have to be an only child?

A hint of vanilla teased his
senses and as if instinct commanded it, his eyes roved for some sign as to
where the intoxicating scent came from. It was gone in an instant.

His Blackberry vibrated and
Rafe plunged into his pocket to retrieve it. Recognizing his fiancé’s name, he
shut the device off and returned it to the confines of his pocket. He really
didn’t want to speak to Sarafina right now. In four weeks’ time they would be
married and then he would always have to communicate with her. The thought sank
a foul feeling into the pit of his stomach.

Sarafina was beautiful. Okay,
she was gorgeous, came from a good family, and her father was in business with
his father. By business standards, it was a match. Sarafina was three years
Rafe’s junior and though they had been practically brought-up together, he
could never see himself in love with her. Yes, he was fond of her and he did
love her, but it wasn’t in the way his parents loved each other. In the way a
man should love his wife. The room didn’t light up when Sarafina walked in, nor
was he anxious to end his day at the office just to be with her. Sex with her
was good—hell it was great, but he just wasn’t
in love
with her.

Maybe not everyone was meant
to have the kind of love his parents did. Even after thirty-three years of
marriage, their love was evident in the way they looked at each other, in a
simple touch or smile.
Damn!
How he envied them. Hadn’t they said their
kind of love came once in a lifetime? He had thought it was a myth all along;
however, now he was starting to believe it.

There was a hint of the
vanilla scent from earlier, and once again Rafe found himself searching for its
source. He was almost thrown off balance by the woman that suddenly appeared in
front of him. It was certainly no secret what her favorite color was. The
purple one piece bathing suit hugged her small figure quite seductively.
Delectable breast held tight by the spandex created the most tantalizing
cleavage. The straw hat she wore had the silliest purple bow on it, but the
makeshift umbrella blocked most of her face from his view, leaving the pair of
most kissable lips he had ever seen for his eyeing pleasure. Yes, he was
certainly interested in this
exotic
creature.

Rafe continued to observe her
as she deposited the large tote she carried on the sand and dove into it. Like
Houdini, she pulled out a large beach towel and rolled it out above the white
sand. Out came a small purple cushion that she carelessly tossed on the towel.
In the bag, she rifled for what seemed an eternity and finally emerged with her
treasure in hand. The beauty briefly waved the paper book in the air
celebrating her personal victory. Rafe’s interest deepened as he continued to
silently study the strange woman from behind his dark glasses. Laying belly
down on the towel, she tucked the cushion beneath her chest and delved between
the pages.

****

“Ann trembled as he
caressed her inner thigh, her body set afire by his every touch. It was like
this every time Nick touched her. Slowly his fingers trailed a part to her most
secret place. Clamping her legs together, she fought for control. If she
didn’t, she would come right then and there….”

As Dahlia read on, she felt
Ann’s emotions—could envision herself on the receiving end of Nick’s skilled
fingers. She could feel him touching her, kissing her where he caressed Ann.

Chewing on her bottom lip,
Dahlia felt the tiny buds of her breast tighten as heat pooled between her
legs. Quite aware of where she was, she attempted to dampen down the hot sexual
tension that was building in her body as she continued to eat up the sex scene
in this latest novel. L. Verji certainly knew how to make her characters come
alive as they participated in pretty naughty activities.

Squeezing her thighs
together, she shifted uncomfortably on the lilac colored towel—hoping that no
one noticed what was happening to her. In an effort to ease her discomfort, she
briefly closed the book using her right index finger as a bookmark. Tugging the
large straw hat off her head she used it to fan herself, smiling a little when
she realized she was just wasting her time.

Behind her large sunglasses,
she noticed the man sitting a few feet away from her on the lounge chair. Naked
from the waist up, his sweat-slicked body glistened in the midday sun. Dahlia
took the opportunity to study the way his rugged muscles flexed as he picked up
the bottle at his side. Her eyes travelled up to his mouth as he brought the
bottle to his lips and gulped a long drink. Looking in her direction, he
removed the bottle and did something she’d only ever read or saw on TV.
He
licked his lips!
But in wasn’t in any ordinary way. It was slow and
sexually tantalizing. The way that made a woman have an orgasm on the spot. This
is what almost happened to Dahlia as a rush of hot liquid gathered in her
bathing suit bottoms.

Dear God!
This could not be happening. Increasing the rhythm in
which she waved the large straw hat, she prayed her body would cool down, but
when her beach God slowly unfurled his body from his sitting position, she
almost fainted. He was well over six feet sitting down and appeared to be huge.
When standing he was a giant. He was
gorgeous
! A perfect specimen if she
ever saw one.  Dahlia’s body went into overdrive. Her nipples tightened into
hardened peaks, her mouth went dry, and her vision blurred.

She needed a dip in the sea!
It would definitely cool her down. Tossing her book and the straw hat aside,
Dahlia shot to her feet only to watch the world spin in front of her. Unable to
steady herself, darkness engulfed her as she fell into a heap atop the hot
sand.

****

Why in God’s name did her
head hurt so much? Where the hell was she? Dahlia’s gaze travelled the large
room as she attempted to make sense of where she was. She felt almost lost in
the large four-poster bed. It was gigantic! A large window was open to the
right of her, the wind gently tossing the soft, sheer curtains. Outside, she
could still make out daylight and hear the sea below lapping against the sand.

Trying to make sense of what
had happened she struggled to sit up, but reconsidered when she felt the little
elves pounding away at her brain. She immediately became aware of the fact that
she was naked beneath the sheets.

Sudden fear engulfed her.
Oh
God!
What had happened? Had she been
raped?
Why couldn’t she
remember? The last thing she remembered was ogling her beach God and
then—nothing.

A sound from across the room
had her burying herself deeper beneath the sheets. The large door swung open at
the other end of the room, the object of her thoughts emerging from the
opposite side’s recesses. Dressed in a pair of jeans and a plain white T-shirt,
the man was spectacular. His coal-black hair was ruffled and his feet were bare
as he crossed the carpeted floor. Dahlia felt that stunning rush of desire
again. This man was nothing short of exquisite. Somewhere in the back of her
mind the word edible popped up. For the whole twenty seconds she drank him in,
she had completely forgotten where she was.

“Ah, I see that you are
finally awake,
Amor.
I was beginning to think I would have to find you a
doctor.”

Oh dear God! Was that thick,
rich, and sexy, accented drawl really
his voice
? Dahlia felt her dainty
toes curl beneath the sheets. “Where am I? Where are my clothes?” She
questioned, hoping to distract herself from what this man’s presence did to
her.

“You do not remember,
Corazón.
You were on the beach and fainted. I brought you here, to my hotel room and put
you to bed.” The handsome stranger offered as an explanation.

“Did you undress me?” Dahlia
squeaked.

“Sí.”
He offered a one word response.

“
Why?”
She delivered
the point-blank question with much more emphasis than was needed.

“Because, Princess, it is
thought that when one has fainted, constricting clothing should be removed. It
was also wise—since your bathing suit was covered in sand.” His explanation
made sense, but she was still too embarrassed at the thought of this man
stripping her clothes away.

“Couldn’t you get a maid or
someone
else
to undress me? You didn’t have to do it yourself.” The suggestion,
though late, was still thrown out there.

“Ah, I see! You are wondering
what I did after I undressed you, no?” A mischievous smile snuck across his
cheeks as he paused for effect. “You need not to worry,
Amor.
Tempted as
I was, because I certainly was, I did not dishonor you in anyway. Your virtue
is still intact, but I strongly advise you—should you wish to keep your virtue,
that it would be wise for you to get dressed and meet me on the balcony.”

Dumbstruck, Dahlia stared
open mouthed at her beach God as he left the same way he came. Had the man just
insinuated that he wanted to have sex with her? She could not believe it! That
gorgeous hunk of a Latin man was sexually attracted to her.
Oh God!
He
had seen her naked! No man had ever seen her naked, unless her father counted
as one. Dahlia’s body turned beet red from the top of her head to the tips of
her toes. At least he wasn’t able to see her now.

Ignoring the now dull
headache, she scampered out of bed, looking around until she located her
belongings in a chair near the bed. Hastily, she began to dress. She didn’t
want to be naked any longer. What if he came back again?

****

That girl was trouble with a
capital T, and he needed to get her out of his hotel room before he did
something he’d surely regret. Having sensed that she’d been watching him down
on the beach, Rafe had thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. The small woman had
not been as scantily dressed as most of the women on the beach and her head had
been engulfed by that ridiculously large hat and sunglasses. Although he could
not see her completely, he’d been strangely drawn to her. He’d paid close
attention to her as she read the paper book within her grasp, but felt the
first stirrings of arousal in his body when she’d removed the hat from her
curly head and began to fan herself with it.

The woman had no idea what a
vision she made, lying there with her generous bosom in clear line of his
sight. He felt the heat of her gaze burning through her lenses, causing the
strangest effect to his body. Finally giving into the attraction the sea nymph
had unconsciously caused, Rafe had risen with every intention of introducing
himself when the oddest thing occurred. She’d risen, looked at him, and
fainted.

Acting on instinct, he’d
brought her to his room, undressed her and placed her in bed. By the time he
was finished he’d felt like some horny teenager, thoroughly aroused and aching.
The woman had the perfect body, curved in all the right places with full and
high breasts, a waist so narrow his hand could easily curve around it and the
beauty held wide hips flowing into long, thick legs. Her skin was soft as silk,
but her hair- that lovely mass of curls- had been his undoing. When let loose,
her tresses easily reached her rounded bottom. He’d closed his eyes to clear
his thoughts only to be blinded by the vision of her sprawled naked beneath
him, her sexily long legs wrapped around him as he did unspoken things to her.

A cold shower had hazily
dulled his desire, but seeing her awake
in his bed
, looking ready for
loving, had made him hard as a rock again. Having known she was stark naked
beneath those sheets had only made it worse.