Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

He smiled and she was lost. His hand framed her face, fingers tangling in her hair, and he kept her still so he could savour her lips, plundering her mouth with his tongue. Teasing, touching, until the yearning inside could no longer be contained. Then it wasn’t as teasing, wasn’t as gentle. Hunger sharpened.

He couldn’t seem to get enough of kissing her. Which was good, because she couldn’t get enough of kissing him. She arched, aching to get nearer, wanting him everywhere, in every way. Her legs splayed, allowing him the space to press closer, more intimately against her. She groaned as his hard length pressed against her, right there. So good. Uncontrollably she rocked, rubbing against him, trying to ease the need, skating closer and closer to an arousal that could have only one end. Her bra was too tight, her breasts were too full, her nipples too taut. Finally, finally, blessedly, he moved, kissing down the length of her neck until his hot mouth hit the high line of her dress.

She clenched on her muscles and cried out as need spiked within her as he pressed his open mouth against her jutting nipple, through the fabric and all. He stiffened above her then swiftly returned to kiss her full on the mouth. Not tender at all now, but ravenous. She couldn’t contain another moan of desire, couldn’t stop the ragged, short breaths of desire escaping her lips.

‘I want to see you,’ he muttered savagely.

His hands dropped to her thighs, to the hem of her dress.

‘I want to see every inch of you.’

Kitty opened her eyes, his passion-roughened words shocking her back to reality. The light hurt. It was so light in here. She didn’t want to be seen by him in this unforgiving brightness. She didn’t want him to see all her imperfections. In that split second she couldn’t help comparing herself to all the other women he’d known—all those beautiful women. She gripped his hand, stopping him from lifting her dress any higher. There were very, very few people who’d seen her naked. And it would never happen in this bright light. Not with him, not with anyone.

Her emotions spiralled out of control as she realised where she was and what she was doing and with whom and what was she thinking? This behaviour was so unlike her. Never had she wanted a man the way she wanted him. It shocked her. It almost scared her.

She froze.

He raised his head and looked down at her, his gaze both astute and tense, his smile rueful. ‘You’re not ready to let me in, Catriona?’

Dazed, she looked up into his face from where she lay half beneath him. For a fatalistic moment she thought she would never be ready to cope with him.

His smile deepened—a little strained, a little tender. ‘I think you need to sleep on it.’ He levered off the bed.

‘You’re...leaving?’ Even though he was no longer pinning her, she couldn’t move, she was stunned. And suddenly desolate.

‘Perhaps I have more patience than you give me credit for.’ He braced his arms either side of her, leaning over her again only to press a quick, light kiss on her lips. ‘I will never do anything you don’t absolutely want me to. Let’s be very clear on that.’

He straightened and walked away from her before she could think what to say. Kitty sat up, watching him as he left the room. She was hot and cold and confused and part of her was relieved but the other part was nothing short of devastated. As soon as he’d closed the door behind him, she slumped back onto the bed—suddenly sorry that he’d been so restrained. She could have had an experience unlike any other if she’d not been so self-conscious. So insecure. So stupid.

If he’d kissed her for just a few minutes more she’d have been so het-up she’d have agreed to anything. But he wasn’t going to let it happen that way. He was too sensitive to her moods. He wanted her commitment to their affair to be made beforehand—not in the heat of the moment. It turned out he was too damn chivalrous to make it easy for her.

She rolled onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow in a swelter of confusion and desire and contradiction. It was only lust, right? She could get a grip on herself—it shouldn’t be that difficult. But the thing was, she did want him and he knew it. He was just going to make her say it so there was no doubt.

Could she take the little he offered? Was it even that little? She’d never had that kind of an affair. Never had the kind of pleasure he’d already made her feel in just those few touches. Maybe she could handle it. And maybe, once it was done, it would be over. The desire would die because this driving need would have been filled. All she had to do was swallow her pride and say yes to him.

But she couldn’t bring herself to do that either. She didn’t want this to be that easy for him. She didn’t want to be just another of his notches.

Basically? She was screwed.

She gave up on sleep and rose super early the next morning and grumpily trooped downstairs to the kitchen to find some fruit to freshen her up. But she encountered Alejandro on the second floor landing in shorts and a thin tee, looking hot and sweaty and, when he caught sight of her, grumpy. He’d clearly been out for a run or something. So that was how he did it.

‘How I do what?’ he asked.

She choked—had she uttered that thought aloud? She must have; he was gazing at her expectantly. But he still wasn’t smiling.

Awkwardly, she tried to explain. ‘Eat all that rich food but stay so...’

‘What?’ he prompted when she broke off.

‘Fit,’ she mumbled.

He didn’t smile. If anything, his expression grew even grimmer. ‘Is that what you wear to bed?’ He gestured at her white pyjamas. ‘You wear black during the day and white at night. That’s very you.’

They stared at each other across the landing and for a moment neither moved.

‘Please be ready to go out when I get home tonight,’ he said gruffly. ‘Unlike some, I work a long day and when I’m done, I’m hungry.’

Her spine stiffened. ‘Certainly, darling. I won’t make you wait a second longer than necessary.’

Her gaze clashed with his.

‘God,’ he muttered hoarsely, ‘I hope not.’

* * *

Alejandro threw himself into work, determined to put Catriona out of his mind for the day and concentrate on everything else. But thoughts of her eroded his focus. He’d never met a woman like her—intriguing, contrary. Annoying. She made him laugh. And the feeling of her strong yet soft body arching to meet his? The sound of her breathy moans as her desire escalated?

He puffed out a long-held breath and turned away from his computer in disgust. He was getting nowhere. He fished in his pocket, then laid the diamond choker across the desk. He wanted to see her wearing it again. He wanted to see her wearing the diamonds and nothing else. But that was what had shut her down last night—when he’d said he wanted to see her, she’d stiffened in his arms. She had an insecurity there that he was going to have to sweep clear somehow.

He deliberately worked late because he wanted to prove to himself that he could stay away from her. That he was still in control of himself emotionally and physically. This was nothing, this was easy, this was still safe. But when he finally headed home, his pulse started pounding. It was all he could do not to bolt up the stairs and haul her into his arms.

He didn’t bolt. He just walked. Still in control.

But his pulse sprinted.

He found her in one of the box-filled upstairs bedrooms. She was in black again—long-sleeved top, slimline trousers and thin black sneakers on her feet. Her hair hung loose down her back, as glorious as ever. His blood fizzed. Just seeing her was a pleasure, but her mouth was downturned as she bent over another enormous cardboard box. She had a clipboard beside her, ready to itemise everything she extracted.

He glanced about the room. He had little sentimentality, but maybe the loss of these things truly made her sad.

‘What are these?’ He nudged the box

she’d been looking into.

‘Oh.’ She glanced up, startled, and coloured slightly. ‘They’re the Christmas and birthday presents I gave my father every year since I was about eight. My earliest sculptures. He obviously didn’t feel the need to keep them.’

She shrugged.

Alejandro knew there were issues with her father. He’d found him to be somewhat unreliable in his business practice—the amount left behind in the house had been totally downplayed, for one thing, and it seemed Catriona and her father were not close. But Alejandro knew some fathers were worse than others. His father was the worst of all.

Distracting himself, he lifted some of the pottery pieces out. Some had not stood the test of time. Or at least hadn’t been kept in a safe place. There were chipped bits and a couple of broken vase tips at the bottom of the box. But a couple—especially one vase and a sculpture that looked like a lion—were very delicate and showed the development of skill. ‘Some are—’

‘Terrible, I know.’ She interrupted him with a brittle laugh. ‘I was just a kid. He didn’t think I should study art; apparently I needed to get a real job. You know, the kind that earns money. Because that was what mattered most to Dad. The guy who’d married into an old wealthy family and managed to lose all the money...’ She trailed off and glanced at Alejandro with a wistful smile. ‘Your parents must be very proud of you.’

It felt as if a boulder had been lodged in his chest. For a second he gaped before collecting himself. She didn’t know about his parents then. She didn’t know...

He halted his thoughts. He didn’t feel inclined to tell her. He never discussed it and ensured conversation never became personal enough for a woman to ask. Several business colleagues knew, but also knew never to mention it. He turned away from the box. ‘Are you ready for dinner?’ he asked bluntly.

‘Time sneaked away from me.’ Kitty bit her lip, surprised to see icy reserve sweep over him. ‘I only need five minutes if we’re going out again?’

He’d totally stiffened up, no longer the suave conversationalist and tease.