The Spaniard's Woman

Skirting around the touchy subject of her father, Rosie said, ‘No siblings. There was only ever Mum and me.’ And took another long swallow of wine to disguise the sudden wobbling of her mouth.

Pretending to be cool and sophisticated was fine when it came to acting as if that kiss had been nothing special, merely the sort of thing that adults indulged in when there was nothing better to do. It was certainly salvaging her pride, but, my, was it difficult.

Leaning forward, his untouched glass of wine held loosely between his hands, Sebastian asked, ‘What about your boyfriend?’ and wondered why he had phrased the question so harshly. Why he’d phrased it at all, come to that.

It was none of his business but he’d bet his life on her having a string of them. Despite her ingenuous big blue eyes, the aura of vulnerability that had previously made his under-used protective genes work overtime, she was no novice when it came to sex. She’d been well and truly turned on a short while ago, more than willing.

He could have taken her just like that!

‘I don’t have a boyfriend.’ Rosie lowered her eyes.

His were glittering at her, as if she’d done something wrong.

But he was only trying to make conversation and being nice about her having visitors. So why was she feeling so jumpy and on edge when it was patently obvious by now that he was being a gentleman and wasn’t going to shame her by mentioning the way she’d kissed him as if she were a sex-mad trollop’?

Meaning she was between men? Sebastian’s mouth tightened.

He wouldn’t ask. It wasn’t of the slightest importance. She was blushing again, he noted, her long thick lashes veiling her eyes, her full lips slightly parted. Kissable.

‘You mean you haven’t a man in your life at the moment?’ He heard the words slip out and despaired of himself. Why couldn’t he leave the subject alone? He was behaving totally out of character and didn’t know why.

Rosie drained the last of her wine in sheer desperation. Why the inquisition? He was looking incredibly macho and domineering right now, his powerfully virile body really tense.

And why didn’t he just keep quiet and so give her the opportunity to say goodnight, thanks for the wine, and take herself off to her room?

He couldn’t be interested in the state of her love life. Could he?

No, of course not.

If this was a soppy romantic film he would be asking because he wanted to know if the coast was clear for him to start up a relationship with her. But real life wasn’t like that and she wasn’t daft enough to think it was. Wealthy, handsome, hard-headed businessmen didn’t have relationships with nobodies.

Metaphorically planting her feet firmly back on the ground, she told herself that as he was standing in for her absent employer he would naturally want to vet her thoroughly.

A horrible thought struck her and made her feel physically ill.

He had doubtlessly decided that, after her lustful earlier display, she made a habit of inviting all and sundry into her bed and he might have to face the distasteful experience of finding a string of rampaging males queuing up outside!

The ridiculous scenario made her feel hysterical. She pulled in a steadying breath. She could at least put his mind at rest on that score!

‘I have never had a boyfriend.’ Red flags of embarrassment flamed over her face. Girls at school had teased her mercilessly because, unlike them, she’d never had loads of boyfriends and experimented with sex. Her mother had vetoed out of school friendships with the rough crowd who lived on their estate.

Besides, she hadn’t been interested. She had the first-hand knowledge of what a casual fling had done to her mother.

Angry regret at that sorry fact tightened her voice as she scrambled to her feet and informed him, ‘I left school to look after my mother. She was ill. Dying. Inoperable cancer. Towards the end she could have gone to a hospice, but she didn’t want that. Neither did I. I nursed her. It didn’t leave any time for socialising. So don’t worry.’ She huffed out a bitterly angry breath and put him straight. ‘I’m not about to hang a red light outside Sir Marcus’s front door!’

Placing her empty glass on the tray beside the half empty bottle with an angry little click, she bade Sebastian a cool goodnight and headed off up the stairs. She had never felt quite this assertive before in her entire life, or so cross. She placed her feet firmly on the treads and lifted her chin in the air. Right at this moment, she almost hated the gorgeous Sebastian Garcia!

In fact, when she really thought about it, she was damn sure she did!

Dismissed and firmly put in his place! Sebastian’s mouth slanted wryly. Just like that! A totally new experience and he rather liked the challenge it presented. Always provided he wanted to take it up, of course.

Which he didn’t. His eyes narrowed, he watched Rosie Lambert mount the broad staircase.

Never had a boyfriend? Did he really believe that? Initially, he’d been struck by her aura of naivety, his instinct to protect. He’d have believed anything she chose to tell him. But her shattering response when his lips had brushed hers, the immediate arousal of her body, had told him she’d been down that road many times before.

Not that he’d seen it that way, not to begin with. He’d been fuddled by lust himself and had felt a real heel for getting so close and intimate in the first place. Only when his mind had cleared had he recognised the signals she’d been sending out.

He could have taken her there and then and she would have encouraged him.