Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge. Lynn Harris Raye
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“You will be pleased to know we are divorced,” he continued. “Alas, arranged marriages never work as planned.”
“Good for her, for wising up.”
“Like you did?”
A bitter laugh burst from her throat before she could stop it. “There was never a choice for me, Alejandro. You were already engaged.”
“Promised, not engaged.”
Rebecca scoffed, hoping he wouldn’t see how the subject still affected her. “What is that? Spanish hair-splitting? The truth is you were to marry another woman when you so conveniently seduced me.”
“You did not mind being seduced, as I recall.”
Heat blossomed in her belly. Flooded her senses. Gathered between her thighs. “I was stupid—and blind to your true nature.”
His square jaw flexed. He hitched a leg onto the corner of the desk, his custom-made trousers stretching tight against one hard thigh. “And just what is my true nature, querida?”
Danger saturated his voice, but she was too angry and hurt to heed the warning. No, what she itched to do was slap his sculpted profile. How dare he steal her company and then stand there and defend his actions of five years ago like he’d been the one wronged?
“You’re a liar and a cheat.”
She stood her ground as he stalked her. One arm snaked around her waist, yanked her against every last inch of his muscled body. The other hand gripped her jaw, forcing her to accept his kiss. Fire exploded in her veins when his lips pressed to hers.
Shock reverberated through her system. It was too much, too soon. She was still processing what it meant to see him again, to be flooded with conflicting emotions. She didn’t want this, didn’t need it.
Couldn’t resist it for much longer.
Her hands went to his chest of their own volition, whether to push away or touch him she wasn’t sure. She marshaled what was left of her willpower and pressed her palms against a granite wall. He simply upped the ante, his tongue sliding along the seam of her lips, teasing her with remembered bliss.
She gave one last push. But he smelled good, felt good, and—
There would be time for recriminations later. Besides, nothing was ever as good as the memory. Surely one kiss would inoculate her to Alejandro’s masculine charm. It was just what she needed to prove to herself he no longer meant a thing to her.
Her mouth parted and his tongue slipped inside. Big mistake.
But it was too late. She shuddered as she met him stroke for stroke. Was she out of her mind? She had to stop—but she didn’t want to. Not yet. For a moment she was flooded with memories—his mouth on hers, his naked skin beneath her fingers, their bodies moving together in perfect rhythm. Ecstasy unlike any she’d ever known. Happiness and love and a feeling of rightness.
One of her hands threaded into his hair, luxuriated in its obsidian crispness. His fingers slid beneath her blouse, teased her nipple through the lace of her bra. It budded under his touch, sensitive and painful and neglected.
She held on to his shoulders, all sense of time and place leaching away as she lost herself in the hot need he called up. She very much feared that if he pressed her to the floor right now, ripped off her clothes and impaled her with his hard maleness, she’d wrap her legs around him and hold on for the ride. Just to feel that perfect rightness once more, even if it was only an illusion.
But, no, it was an illusion. She had to stop this. Now—
He broke the kiss first. “You’re still sizzling, Rebecca,” he said, his breath hot against her moist lips. “And you are still a slut.”
Her hand connected with his cheek before he could block the blow. He moved away from her, laughing. She thanked God for the fury coursing through her right now, because without it shame would have eaten her alive. How had she managed to lose every last shred of dignity she possessed the instant he kissed her?
“Then I guess we know where we stand,” she said, her breath razoring in and out. She would not hyperventilate. Not now. Stupid to let down her guard like that, to feel any softness at all toward this man. “And now I’d like to go to the hotel and get some rest—if you’re finished trying to humiliate me.”
“Your room is upstairs.”
She gaped at him. “I’m staying here? In your villa? Is that wise?” she added, on what she hoped was a cool note.
“I cannot possibly refuse paying guests simply to house an employee. You will stay here.”
An employee. The word grated like nothing else ever had. Worse, it stung that he could kiss her so hotly and then act as though it was nothing more than a joke. “Fine. But don’t you ever touch me again.”
His mouth twitched. “Are you sure about that? You were not so chilly a moment ago. Were you not remembering what it was like between us?”
She lifted her chin. No sense lying, because he’d see right through it. “You’re a fine lover, Alejandro, but you aren’t the only man who knows his way around a woman’s body. Men like you are easy to find if a woman knows where to look.”
“And where would that be?” His look was half amused, half curious.
“I believe they like to hang out at resorts and fleece rich women out of their money.”
His brows drew together. “You are calling me a gigolo?”
“Keep it in mind if the hotel thing doesn’t work out.”
He threw back his head and laughed. Rebecca had to bite her lip to keep from grinning at the sound. She’d always loved his laugh. But the last thing she needed was to share a light moment with this man. He’d just stolen her company and ruined her career. The thought was enough to harden her resolve.
He reached for the phone on his desk, touched a button. “Señora Flores will show you to your room.” She was almost to the door when his voice stopped her. “And do not worry, Rebecca. I have no intention of ever again accepting what you offer each time you look at me.”
Rebecca’s spine snapped ramrod-straight. “What’s that? Sudden death? Because if you see anything else, you are a deluded man.”
“Do not make me prove you wrong again.”
She gave him her best glare, the one she’d perfected as a woman working hard to succeed in a man’s business. “Try me when I’m no longer jet-lagged, Alejandro. I promise you the response will be much different.”
Alejandro returned to the villa late, having spent several hours at his sleek downtown office. He tossed his jacket across a chair in the master suite, loosened his tie and tugged it from his collar. He started to pour a drink from the bar in his room, but changed his mind and pulled on a pair of swim trunks instead. Right now he needed the release