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A Spanish Inheritance

Page 15

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‘Lucky for you he didn’t see that expression on your face,’ Ramon said as he accompanied her across the street.

The touch of his hand on her arm even through two layers of fabric was electrifying. The knowledge that he was only being courteous should have filled her with relief, but shock came first and put a chill in her voice. ‘I never want to hear the word champagne again.’

‘That sounds like a challenge to me,’ Ramon threatened softly.

‘I’m serious.’ But even Annalisa knew her words lacked conviction.

‘For now,’ Ramon murmured, increasing the pressure of his fingers enough to invade her body with warmth in a way that was both seductive and alarming. ‘We’ll stop off for something to eat on the way back to the finca.’

That was a really bad idea! She told him so.

‘Why not? I’ll drive you home.’

And then…? ‘I can take a taxi,’ Annalisa told him, willing her voice to stay firm.

‘Why do that when you don’t have to?’

She stopped and looked up at him. Was it that muscle working in his jaw, the smouldering amusement and confidence in his eyes, or the curve of his lips? Did it even matter? One thing she was sure about. There could be no such thing as a harmless friendship with a man like Ramon Perez.

‘I’m going to take a taxi because you haven’t been straight with me,’ she said, for want of a better excuse. But even as she tried to free her arm from his grip he tightened his hold.

‘What are you talking about now?’ he asked, catching hold of her other arm and drawing her round in front of him.

The tang of warm clean male laced with sandalwood and musk was almost too much to bear. ‘The shoreline…for your marina,’ she said, whipping her head away from the evocative scent.

‘The fresh water for your orange groves,’ he countered lightly.

Annalisa gasped as he cupped her chin in one hand and brought her round to face him again. ‘You didn’t tell me about your plans for a marina,’ she whispered, shutting her eyes tight as his fingers strayed beyond the sensitive area just behind her ear to mesh through her hair.

‘And Don Alfonso didn’t tell you that your father and I were partners…did he, Annalisa?’ Ramon countered, releasing her abruptly.

She had been right to accept that intuitive warning. Ramon was a man that any woman would need an anaesthetic to resist. She took a moment or two to steady her nerves. ‘I’m not sure… I—’

He cut in impatiently. ‘And that’s not the only piece of vital information he failed to give you. Is it, Annalisa?’

She shared his irritation at the incompetence of her lawyer, but a peculiar loyalty to someone who had once worked for her father prevailed. She wouldn’t get rid of Don Alfonso. She would just have to mug up on Spanish law in her spare time. Spare time? That was a joke! ‘Don Alfonso hasn’t had a chance to fill me in on every detail,’ she said casually, noting the look of suspicion in his eyes.

‘You don’t know much about your father, do you, Annalisa?’ he pressed shrewdly.

‘No, I—’ She flicked her wrist in a gesture that suggested she didn’t want to either, at this late stage.

‘If you intend to live in his house…employ his workers…make your home in the village where he was born—’

‘Surely the approach I take where that is concerned is up to me?’

‘OK,’ Ramon agreed. ‘Perhaps it is too soon to revisit the past. But there’s a lot to talk about besides that, and it won’t hurt you to have lunch with me. You survived dinner—’

‘Barely,’ she reminded him quickly. And before she could stop it the hint of a smile warmed her eyes.

But Ramon appeared not to notice and only hummed a brief note of agreement before grabbing her arm to steer her across the street. ‘I’m glad that’s settled,’ she heard him murmur as they wove their way through some ambling tourists.

His self-assurance jolted Annalisa out of her complacency. ‘No!’ she said, almost causing a pile-up as she stopped dead in her tracks.

‘What’s wrong now?’

Could a voice seduce you? she wondered, trying desperately to ground herself in the day-to-day bustle of the city street. ‘I’m not sure we should.’

‘Should what?’

His molten gaze was like liquid heat. It seemed to steal into every part of her. ‘Be together when Margarita—’ She felt her throat dry, attempted to swallow and gave up.

‘This is work,’ Ramon broke in impatiently. ‘We’ve just had a business meeting. I need to eat. You need to eat.’ He stared at her intently, as if daring her to argue.



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