The Spaniard's Woman

A swamping wave of tenderness drenched through him, taking him by surprise. Whatever happened, he vowed, he wouldn’t allow her to suffer for what had happened between them last night. It had been magical, instinctive, transcending his previous, admittedly slightly cynical experiences with the opposite sex. But he wasn’t going to think about that, he told himself harshly, as he watched her stretch to reach a high corner.

He would wipe it from his memory banks and make sure it never happened again.

Oblivious of his silent appearance in the room, Rosie, rubbing at a stubborn smear, addressed her workmate, ‘I don’t suppose you remember the family who lived in Briar Cottage before the present head gardener?’

‘I do,’ Sebastian slotted in, and watched her go very still, as if his voice had given her a huge shock, and added easily, his eyes on Rosie’s now rigid shoulders, willing her to turn and face him, ‘There’s been a change of plan, ladies.’

Reluctantly, he turned to Sharon, who was now on her hands and knees, unenthusiastically dabbing polish on the oak boards. If anyone should be stiff with embarrassment it should be she, not Rosie, who had been diligently working. Unless she thought that idle chit-chat was forbidden.

If her questions had been idle?

Shelving that for the moment, he elaborated, ‘I’ve decided to hire a team of professional cleaners. They start tomorrow. You’ll be paid until the end of the week so you might as well pack your bags and leave now.’

Rosie’s knees threatened to give way beneath her and she felt the colour drain out of her face. Despite telling her not to worry about possible repercussions following last night’s frenzied lovemaking, he was giving her her marching orders! Getting rid of her in case there were consequences he wouldn’t want to handle! So much for him telling her they had to get together and talk things out!

Besides, to add insult to injury, she’d only been here a few days and had found out next to nothing about her father, and found out too much about herself!

She hadn’t even had the opportunity to look at the cottage where her mother had lived for the first eighteen years of her life.

But there was nothing she could do about it. She hadn’t signed a contract or anything. She gathered up her cleaning materials and turned to watch as Sebastian peeled notes off a roll and handed them to Sharon.

Determined that he wouldn’t have the faintest idea how much she was hurting, she held her chin high as she watched him watch Sharon make a hasty exit. She knew the other girl had told him and Madge that she was leaving at the end of the week. So Sebastian had grabbed the opportunity to get rid of her as well. Like her mother before her, she had a lousy taste in men! And she wasn’t going to cry—no way was she going to cry!

And he could keep his rotten money! She would accept only what was due to her for the few days she’d actually worked here. Her voice stiff and sharp, her chin still painfully high, she announced, ‘I’ll be ready to leave in ten minutes. And I’d like permission to use the phone to call a cab to get me to the station.’

He turned slowly, glittering silver eyes resting on her, his beautiful mouth softly curved as if her independent stand had amused him. Her breath snagging in her throat. Rosie turned her head away; if she looked at him she would disgrace herself and start to cry. Like her mother before her, she had fallen instantly and recklessly in love with the one man she should have run a mile from.

‘You’re going nowhere,’ he stated, with such flat determination he aroused everything stubborn within her. I let Sharon go because the work didn’t suit her. You’re different.’

Because she believed in ‘working for her wages’? Because she didn’t skive off and grumble about everything? A case of knowing a bargain when he saw one? It shouldn’t hurt. But it did.

Moments ago she’d been on the verge of tears because she thought he was throwing her out. Suddenly everything had changed. She had fallen headlong into the mire of

loving him, but she could get herself out of it, couldn’t she?

She could cut her losses as far as meeting her father and getting to know him was concerned—he wouldn’t be interested in any case. And rescue herself from the awful fate of falling even more deeply for Sebastian Garcia, falling so deeply that she would be spoiled for ever—unable to form a special relationship with any other man—just as her mother had been.

Her eyes very blue, she turned to him and made herself look into his strong, lean face. ‘You don’t need me. Professional cleaners will go through this place like a dose of salts. I’d just get in the way. I’d rather go.’

Even as she stated her intentions, as firmly as she was able, she felt desperately empty, as if she were suffering a loss beyond bearing. But it was the best way; the only way. Staying around would make her act like a real fool. Watching for him, hoping and praying for a kind word, a smile, lying awake at night longing for him to come to her room.

‘Forget the cleaning,’ he dismissed, clearly losing patience with her, his skin taut over his beautiful bone structure. I may have made you pregnant, remember?’ he jolted acidly. ‘I want you where I can see you until we’re sure, either way. I took advantage of you, which in the cold light of day I deeply regret,’ he admitted, mortifying her. ‘However, I take my responsibilities seriously. You stay.’

‘What did that mean?’ Rosie questioned hysterically.

That if the worst happened he would book her into a private clinic and pay for an abortion? Well, he could forget that, for starters!

Her legs turning to jelly, she stared at the floor and mumbled, I can look out for myself.’

And shuddered uncontrollably as he took two swift paces forward, tipped her chin with an inescapable forefinger and ground out, as if he wished he’d never set eyes on her, ‘No, you can’t. And even if you could I wouldn’t let you. I feel guilty enough as it is. Now.’ He dragged in a tight breath and said more levelly, which must have called for a huge effort, Rosie decided miserably, ‘Get changed. I’m taking you out for lunch. And while we’re eating I’ll tell you what I have in mind.’

As she opened her mouth to say thanks, but no thanks, he denied her the opportunity by putting both hands on her shoulders and giving her the benefit of his dazzling grin, ‘Humour me, Rosie. Please?’

She could drown in that smile, in the depths of those glittering silver eyes. That unfair charisma coupled with the warm male scent of him made her tummy flip. Wordlessly, she nodded then dipped her head, hiding her suddenly wildly coloured cheeks. In this mood she could deny him nothing.

She was a hopeless case where he was concerned, and there didn’t seem to be a blind thing she could do about it!

CHAPTER FIVE