The Morning After

He kissed the fingers, but also dislodged them with a small, grim shake of his head. ‘Then suddenly there you were again,’ he continued, his eyes dark green with emotion. ‘Being thrust into my life again, this time threatening Susie’s happiness!’

‘But—’

‘Shush.’ He silenced her. ‘I will finish. Mistakes are mistakes, Angelica. All of us have had to acknowledge that one way or another over these last two weeks. But before the mistakes were exposed I had spent four years seeing you as the kind of woman I could never care for—should never care for,’ he qualified.

Then he smiled very ruefully. ‘It did not stop me from wanting you, though,’ he admitted, dropping a kiss on her tender mouth. ‘It simply turned that want into a frustrated kind of ache that gnawed at me every time I saw your face on a billboard or in a magazine or—’ He stopped and sighed.

‘Then the Susie thing came up,’ he went on. ‘And, I have to admit it, I was quite ready to pay you back for four years of hell. I called it revenge for myself.’

He kissed her again before she could say anything. ‘And I knew it the moment I saw you in the flesh that night—it was the first time I had actually been in the same company as you, did you know that?’ His expression was wry. ‘Four years lusting after one special woman, and I hadn’t even met her!’

‘Fantasising gone mad.’ She smiled.

He laughed, but it wasn’t with any humour. ‘A lot of things gone mad,’ he agreed. ‘But I learned one very dangerous thing on that first meeting. And it was that holding you in my arms was like having all that madness turning into sanity. It felt right,’ he said softly. ‘It felt good! And, even more dangerous, I knew you too were shocked by how good it felt.

‘After that,’ he claimed with more his usual arrogance, ‘you really did not stand a chance. I may have used all kinds of excuses for bringing you here, but I knew deep down inside that I was bringing you here for myself. I wanted you for myself. Susie no longer mattered. The Alvarez thing no longer mattered. From then on the only mistakes being made were because of the lies entangling both of us. I thought I was dealing with a very spirited, very tough, very experienced woman.’ If it was possible, his eyes darkened even further. ‘So I made love to the woman I believed you to be, and found I had defiled an angel—’

‘No,’ she protested. ‘Don’t call me that! It’s not true and I always hated it. It was just another lie I lived with, can’t you see that?’ Her breasts moved against his chest with a small heave of pain. ‘Most of my life has been spent playing a lie. First with my mother’s help.’ The hurt that memory could still cause shot across her blue eyes. ‘Then as a silly character created to sell breakfast cereal, for goodness’ sake!’

‘Don’t cry,’ he muttered when a film of tears washed across her eyes.

‘I’m not!’ she denied, but the denial was thick with tears too, and with a shaky sigh he captured her trembling mouth.

It was a now familiar kiss—the one that caught fire at her lips and burned its way to every corner of her body, cleansing all the bitterness and hurt right out of her as it went. She sighed as she gave in to it, her soft lips parting, her tongue searching, finding, and she gave another pleasurable sigh as her hands went up around his neck and found that shank of hair that she loved to hold onto in moments like these.

It was wonderful—like coming home through the storm and finding warmth and comfort waiting for her. He pressed her against him and she melted into the embrace, loving the feel of her breasts cushioning against the solid warmth of his chest, loving the feel of his body alive and pulsing against her own.

He muttered something in Spanish as he drew away, his eyes burning like angry green flames as they delved into her own. ‘You understand that I love you whoever you are, whatever you are?’

‘I understand,’ she smiled softly.

He nodded, always arrogant, no matter what other emotions were running rife through him. ‘Angelica DeSanquez,’ he muttered, then added tersely, ‘Remember how I said that! For Angelica Lacey no longer exists!’

‘Did I tell you I’m madly in love with you?’ she heard herself say, and actually cried out in alarm as he took her mouth again in a volcanic eruption of emotion that threatened to consume them both.

‘You unman me,’ he muttered hoarsely as his dark head dipped lower so that he could taste her silken throat. ‘You always do. But then,’ he added ruefully, ‘I think you enjoy doing it.’

‘You don’t feel unmanned to me,’ she remarked provocatively, nudging her hips against his swollen body.

His sigh was oddly shaken. ‘Let go of my hair,’ he ordered. ‘You’re hurting.’

&nbs

p; ‘No.’ Her grip only tightened as her mouth went in search of his ear to taste it. ‘I like it,’ she whispered. ‘It’s sexy.’

With a husky growl he bent and scooped her up into his arms.

‘Where are we going?’ she enquired innocently.

César sent her a glaring glance. ‘Guess,’ he mocked as he strode with grim intention into the coolness of the house.

Annie let go of the hair so she could trail a tender fingertip down his taut cheek. ‘I love you, César,’ she told him again. ‘Thank you for loving me too.’

‘Oh, hell,’ he gritted as his firm stride faltered. ‘If you don’t stop saying things like that I’ll take you right here on the stairs!’

‘Sorry,’ she said, her blue eyes alight with pure female mischief, hear white teeth pressing into the sensual fullness of her bottom lip. ‘I just wanted to say it, that’s all.’

‘Santa María!’ he rasped out explosively as he entered the bedroom and toppled them both onto the bed. ‘I have never known a woman affect me as badly as you do!’ he muttered complainingly.