has fallen asleep,’ Alejandro murmured softly behind her a few minutes later. ‘No doubt exhausted from the release of emotion,’ he added huskily as he made his son comfortable on the bed before turning to look at Brynne. ‘You and I need to talk,’ he bit out grimly as he moved to the door, pointedly holding it open for her to precede him out of the room.
Brynne shot him a nervous glance as she reached his side, not at all sure of him in this mood, the tenderness he had shown towards Michael a few minutes ago having completely disappeared behind a hard mask.
Brynne swallowed hard. ‘Perhaps one of us should stay with Michael—’
‘You can come back and sit with him in a few minutes,’ Alejandro assured her harshly. ‘For now you and I have a conversation to finish. Not downstairs,’ he instructed tautly as she moved in that direction. ‘In here, where we cannot be overheard,’ he added determinedly as he pushed open a door farther down the hallway.
‘In here’ was a room Brynne had never been in before, a huge, sunny room with double French doors leading out onto a large balcony, decorated in muted golds and browns, and dominated by a huge four-poster bed with gauzy drapes that could be pulled at night for complete privacy.
Alejandro’s bedroom …
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ALEJANDRO saw the look of panic on Brynne’s face as she realized he had brought her to his bedroom, his mouth twisting in derision. ‘I am hardly in the mood for seduction at this moment!’ He moved to the French doors, throwing them open to breathe in the clean, gentle breeze. He needed the fresh air to help him calm down. That scene with Michael had disturbed him.
‘Michael overheard part of our conversation earlier,’ Brynne told him unnecessarily.
They should have been more careful, of course, had once again allowed the antagonism that existed between them to spill out unchecked.
Brynne looked pale, her freckles once again standing out against the whiteness of her skin. Her darkly shadowed eyes showed that she was as disturbed by the incident as he was.
Unless finding herself in his bedroom had caused that …?
He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘The distress just caused to Michael has surely shown you that this habit you have of attacking me concerning my past relationship with Joanna has got to stop!’
Brynne gasped. ‘You’re blaming me—’
‘We are both to blame,’ Alejandro acknowledged harshly. ‘You, for making accusations, judgements, you have no right to make. Me, because I felt the need to defend those judgements.’ His eyes glinted angrily. ‘My past relationship with Joanna is not your concern—’
‘No, I just have to help pick up the pieces seven years later!’ Brynne scorned, feeling stung by his words.
She accepted they had been wrong to argue like that in a place where Michael could overhear them. But she didn’t accept the argument had been her fault. Alejandro was the one who had reacted to a perfectly innocent remark—
‘Is that your only interest, Brynne?’ Alejandro challenged, as he looked down his chiselled nose at her. ‘Or is it that you feel some—personal curiosity, concerning my relationship with Joanna all those years ago?’ he added softly.
Brynne felt the colour warm her cheeks. ‘What are you implying now?’
His mouth twisted, there was o humor in his tone. ‘There is a saying in your country, is there not, something about people in glass houses should not throw stones …?’
Brynne stared at him blankly for several long seconds, and then her eyes widened as his meaning became clear. ‘If you’re talking about what happened between us last night—’
‘That is exactly what I am talking about, Brynne,’ he sneered. ‘How do you think that would have ended if we had not been interrupted in the way that we were?’
She had tortured herself with those very same thoughts alone in her bedroom last night …
‘Is that why you did it, to prove—’
‘We did it, Brynne,’ Alejandro cut in harshly. ‘I kissed you—certainly not to prove anything!—but once I had kissed you you were a willing participant to what happened next,’ he reminded her coldly. ‘So,’ he clipped. ‘What do you think would have happened?’ he persisted.
‘If your girlfriend hadn’t arrived, you mean—’
‘Oh, no,’ Alejandro cut in softly. ‘I am not going to allow you to antagonize me into changing the subject in that way.’ He crossed the room to stand just in front of her.
Making Brynne all too aware of him, the heat of his body, that all-male smell, the leashed power that could be released at any second.
She avoided that compelling silver gaze as she moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘I like to think—’
‘No, Brynne!’ Alejandro grasped her arms and shook her slightly. ‘No thinking. No wishing. No imagining.’ He shook her again. ‘Tell me what you think would have happened after I had touched you here.’ One of his hands moved to caress lightly across her breast before returning to grasp her arm. ‘Kissed you here.’ He held her gaze as his head lowered. His lips and tongue grazed lightly across her hardened nipple beneath her cotton top.
‘Stop it!’ Brynne struggled to pull away from him but was held tight by the strength of his hands on her arms.
‘What if we had not stopped—for whatever reason—when we did, Brynne?’ he repeated softly. ‘What do you think would have happened next?’
She didn’t need to think—she knew what would have happened!
She had wanted Alejandro last night, mindlessly, urgently. She had been unable to think of anything but him, of being even closer to him; she hadn’t even been aware of the approaching car that had alerted him to Antonia Roig’s arrival.
Alejandro could see the pained bewilderment in Brynne’s eyes, could guess at the reason for it, knew that he was hurting her, but needed to make her understand the past.
It was this lack of understanding—perhaps of experience?—that caused her to judge him and Joanna as harshly as she did, and while he did not care for himself, Joanna was a different matter.
‘We both know what was going to happen next.’ He released her abruptly, moving several feet away to thrust his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘The two of us would have become lovers—’
‘No—’
‘But yes, Brynne,’ he insisted softly. ‘We were almost there already.’
‘You’re despicable!’ she gasped.
‘I am honest,’ he corrected grimly. ‘With myself. And with other people. It is the same honesty that Joanna and I had between us seven years ago. We were not in love with each other, but we liked each other, were attracted to each other. It was an attraction that we acted upon. The same attraction that was between us last night—’
‘No—’
