Chosen As The Frenchman's Bride. ABBY GREEN
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She blanched at the starkness of his words.
‘Lovely is a little bit of an understatement, don’t you think, for what two people seem to be able to ignite in each other within seconds or with just a look?’
‘I…I…well, maybe…’
His eyes were hypnotic. ‘The most important thing on my mind at the moment is exploring this attraction between us.’
‘It is?’
‘Yes.’
‘Look…Xavier…we hardly know each other, and I’m not normally—’
‘So responsive? Well, neither am I.’ His voice sounded harsh.
She had been about to say easy, and amended her words. ‘That is…I mean…I want you to know that it wasn’t my intention to come here just for some kind of holiday…thing.’
He moved her closer to him, looping deceptively loose arms around her waist, ignoring the chatter around them. She came in contact with the still semi-hard evidence of his arousal. Immediately an answering liquid heat pooled in her groin.
‘And, contrary to what you may think, I’m not in the habit of pursuing random tourists…I’m not sure what this is either, but don’t you think it might be fun to explore?’
Fun. Explore. The words resounded in her head.
He stepped back, putting her away from him gently. ‘I’ll take you back now, but I have a proposition…’ He trailed a long finger down one cheek. ‘I promised to bring you to the island tomorrow to show you the memorial.’
He lifted a brow as if to ask if she still wanted to do that.
She felt herself nodding slowly, trying to focus just on his words, not on the finger caressing her heated skin.
‘I’d like you to come and stay there as my guest for the rest of the week…We could get to know one another…explore this…attraction.’ His finger left her cheek. ‘It’s up to you.’
He looked at her for a long moment, before shading his eyes again with the dark glasses and starting back towards the boat. He hadn’t meant to ask her to stay, the words had surprised him, but now, having asked, it felt right. One thing was for sure. An afternoon picnic wasn’t enough.
A few seconds later Jane followed blindly, her mind churning furiously. She would never see him again after this week. She would have it to hug to herself for ever. What did she have to lose? Could she really be contemplating this? Could she indulge the fantasy?
They were silent on the boat back, and during the car journey up to the villa. He was detached and polite. At her front door they looked at one another for the first time since they had left the beach. He tipped up her face with a finger under her chin.
‘So, Jane Vaughan…I’ll be here to pick you up at ten a.m. It can be a simple day trip to see the grotto, or you can come and stay for the next few days…Like I said, the choice is yours.’
And then he was in his car, the purring sound of the engine growing fainter before she drew in another breath, still looking at the spot where he had stood. She knew without a doubt that he would let her go at the end of the next day if she so desired. He was far too proud to push her. It was, as he’d said, up to her.
She mechanically went into the house, and before she knew what she was doing she realised that she was packing her things, tidying up in readiness to leave for a few days. Her body was ahead of her brain. She sat on the couch in the living room, an excited, nervous, shivery feeling in her belly.
Be careful what you wish for because you just might get it. The words popped into her head. Well, this was what she had wished for, wasn’t it? The start of something new. Letting go of the old reliable, sensible, mature Jane. It was time for her to have some fun for a change. And when someone like Xavier Salgado-Lézille wanted you…then surely it went against the flow of the universe to say no? She was being offered a taste of something that she knew many women would not hesitate for a second to experience.
The only thing was…she had a sneaking suspicion that more than her body was in danger of falling under his spell. Was it a risk she was prepared to take? A resounding voice in her head said yes. Throw caution to the wind. She caught sight of her reflection in a mirror. I mean really, she asked herself, how involved could she get in one week? She turned away before she could see the mocking glint in her eye.
CHAPTER FOUR
BY NINE forty-five the next morning Jane was having second, third and fourth thoughts. In the cold light of day things were more stark. She would get burned. And not from the sun. She knew it. She heard an engine outside. He was early. As if he could hear the doubts that were in her private thoughts. Which was ridiculous.
She took a deep breath and waited for the doorbell to sound. She was wearing simple shorts, flip-flops and a plain T-shirt. If he wanted her then he could have her as she was, unadorned.
She lifted the small weekend bag that she had brought to carry home gifts, and suddenly it felt as if it held rocks instead of clothes and toiletries for the next few days.
The doorbell rang. Her heart stopped. She could see his tall dark shape against the glass. The Prince of Darkness. The name made her shiver.
When she opened the door his sharp eyes took in her slender figure in the plain clothes, and the bag clutched in one hand with her knuckles showing white. Instinctively he schooled his features, not allowing the surge of triumph he felt to show on his face. For once in his life he actually hadn’t been sure which way a woman was going to react, and had been prepared for her to reject his offer. But the bag told him that she was saying yes. He needed to tread carefully. She was as skittish as a colt. He bent to take the bag from her grip, and left her to lock up.
Jane had sent a text to Lisa that morning, wishing her all the best for her dad’s operation and saying she was taking a small trip. Just in case Lisa rang and got no answer from the house. She wasn’t going to go into any details about Xavier yet. If her friend thought for a second there was a man in the picture she’d be like a dog with a bone.
And, as Jane could barely quantify to herself what was happening, she could hardly begin to explain herself to someone else.
By the time they reached the island, and Xavier had guided her to a waiting Jeep, she had pushed any last dissenting voices out of her head. He was being a complete gentleman. Charming, funny, insightful. She hadn’t felt this kind of connection with anyone before—almost as though they’d known each other for years.
A couple of times when they’d locked eyes the heat had flared, swift and intense, reminding her of what was not so far from the surface.
He paused in the Jeep, turning towards her in his seat. ‘We’ll have to go to my home first…an unavoidable conference call I need to take. My penance for taking some time off…I’m sorry.’
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