Spaniard Untamed (Blood and Thunder 3)

“You think too much,” Diego argued.

Balling her hands into fists, she turned away to try to steady her breathing and saw a snapshot of her friends and colleagues on the estate, going about their day-to-day work, happy, productive, vital, and fun. There was a full life here. Deep down, she didn’t want to leave. This was the first real home she’d ever had. “Can’t we just go back to where we began, when you were my employer and I worked for the team?”

“Not a chance,” Diego flashed. “What’s this really about, Celina? Is it love in general that frightens you, or just loving me?”

“Why should love frighten me when sex is all we have?”

“Are you sure about that?”

He moved so quickly to take hold of her, she had no chance to answer. “You’re coming with me,” he said. Keeping a tight hold on her arm, he marched her back to the house.

“You feel this way about me now, but what about tomorrow and all the days after that?” She tried to forget the chains around her heart that bound her to Diego.

“Are you done arguing with yourself?” he demanded. “Who the hell knows about tomorrow? We work at it like everyone else has to. That’s how we learn about each other—”

“Until you find someone new,” she stated with confidence.

By this time, they’d reached the grand double doors that marked the entrance to his home. Pressing her back against the smooth, cool wood with the weight of his body, Diego glared into her face. “I’d love to say you’re not worth the trouble, but God help me, you are.”

Chapter Fourteen

Diego steered her through the double doors and into his magnificent hallway. “My life has changed, and yours can too, but only if you allow it to.”

This couldn’t work. They would never work as a couple, she told herself as he opened a tall, imposing door on a room she hadn’t visited before. For an unforgettable, heart-stopping moment, she stood on the threshold in awe. Diego had brought her to his library…to his stunning, book-packed library. He couldn’t have brought her anywhere to affect her more profoundly. The room was vast, with floor-to-ceiling books on three sides, and floor-to-ceiling windows on the fourth. The windows overlooked the glorious formal gardens, where fountains played and songbirds ready to roost for the night fluttered among the branches of the trees. Burnished wood paneling and vast, jewel-colored rugs competed with antique Oriental ornaments, but it was the scent of books that Celina found intoxicating. The thought of all those adventures tucked inside their leather bindings excited her.

It was twilight, and the subtly lit gardens lent their glow to the room. The soothing ambience invited her to venture deeper and explore. There was a huge library table to sit around and study, and a comfortable seating arrangement positioned around an open fire. She could just imagine snuggling up for cozy reading on chilly winter nights. It was too warm for the fire to be lit at the moment, but the hearth was full of flowers, and their scent mingled with the aroma of polished wood and ancient pages, creating a unique an

d heady perfume. It was a room straight out of her dreams. It was heaven. She drank it in and almost forgot why she was here until Diego removed the heavy pack from her shoulders and dumped it on the floor.

Long years of defending herself prompted her to launch the first verbal blow. “You want to control me. You knew I couldn’t resist a room like this. That’s why you brought me here.”

“How could I know how the room would affect you?” he said with resounding good sense. “Perhaps one day you’ll explain why you find my library so compelling.”

“I love books.” She turned to face him. “I love having control of my life too.”

“Because control keeps you safe.”

She gave an allowing shrug. “So far,” she agreed. “So many books,” she breathed as she walked across the room to trail her fingertips reverently over the leather bindings.

“That’s usual in a library,” Diego commented dryly, coming to join her. Bringing her into his arms, he added, “Most women want diamonds or a house in the South of France, but you want books.”

“I’ve never seen so many in one place before,” she admitted. “It’s a treasure trove.”

“Shall we sit?” he suggested, indicating one of the comfortable sofas.

“I prefer to stand,” she said.

“And I prefer to sit.”

She yelped with shock as he swung her into his arms. She should have known that Diego never did as expected. They were in such a civilized setting, he had taken her off guard. He was a creature of fierce passion and decisive action, and now it was a battle of wills. She stiffened and resisted him when he sat down on the sofa, still holding her. He dipped his head and kissed her, anyway. She fought him and lost. Trying to block her mind to the wealth of sensation he provoked was a lost cause, as was pummeling her fists on the wall of his chest. When he pulled back his head, he just laughed as if he’d never been so happy.

“What do I have to do?” he demanded. “How do I convince you that if you insist on seeing the world through the eyes of a damaged child, you will never be happy? There’s nothing timid about you when it comes to helping anyone else, but you won’t lift a finger to help yourself. How can I change that? Tell me,” he insisted when she didn’t answer. “What do I have to do to make you care about you?”

She didn’t speak, so he did. “Do you think you’re protecting yourself?” he demanded. “Because you’re not. You’re hiding. You’re fooling yourself that it’s safer that way. If you don’t feel anything, you can get through life, however hard it becomes, one day at a time.”

“And what about you?” she demanded, finding her voice. “Are you so in touch with your feelings that you feel qualified to lecture me?”

“I’m not in touch with my feelings. I’m drowning in them,” Diego admitted. “And for that, I hold you entirely responsible.”