8 Brand-New Romance Authors

He laughed. A soft sound she felt rumbling against her. It was all too close, too personal. She tried to step back from him but he pressed his hand firmly into the small of her back, bringing her hip close against him.

She gasped as she felt the hardness of his arousal, and nerves made her heart beat wildly—so hard she could feel the pulse in her neck throbbing. His dark eyes, smouldering with desire, met hers.

‘I too am convinced.’

His voice was a harsh whisper as he spoke against her ear, his breath blowing on her neck, making it tingle.

‘I am also convinced that now would be a good time to leave this damned party.’

She turned her head towards him, intending to speak, to try and douse the fire that had ignited between them. A fire she could never allow to burn. Her cheek touched his as he lowered his head and, following some kind of instinct she’d never before experienced, she moved until his lips were against hers.

Briefly her gaze locked with his, then her eyelids fluttered closed as the pressure of his lips met hers. The kiss was hard, demanding much more. She wound her arms around his neck, one hand still clutching her empty champagne flute, and gave herself up to the mastery of this man’s kiss. Her lips and her body asked for more and he responded, making her heart thump hard.

His tongue slid into her mouth, entwining with hers. He tasted wild and untamed. She sighed, making him deepen the kiss, and he began to invade every cell of her body with a heady desire she’d never known before.

Heaven help her, she wanted this man. Wanted him in a way she hadn’t known was possible.

Just when she thought she couldn’t remain standing against him any longer he broke the kiss. She slid her arms down slowly from his neck and he took the glass from her hand, putting it on a nearby table. Cool air rushed around her as their bodies parted and she felt exposed, naked, as if everyone in the room would be able to see just how much her body wanted his.

Santos’s gaze slid over her, just as it had done when she’d entered the room, but this time her skin sizzled. When it lingered on her breasts her knees weakened and breathing was suddenly the hardest thing to do. She was transfixed, unable to move, unable to hide from his open desire.

Around them the noise of the party slowly came back to her and she was thankful that they were not alone. What would she have done if they were?

She’d have made a big mistake, that was what. She would have allowed passion and champagne to take over, allowed them to destroy everything, exposing emotions and leaving her vulnerable. She’d seen it with her mother, knew the consequences, and had promised herself she’d never allow that to happen to her.

‘We leave now.’

His voice, though still deep and throaty, radiated total command and, afraid hers would sound weak and trembling, she nodded in agreement.

With his hand possessively in the small of her back he propelled her towards the door. Partygoers stepped aside for them. Envious glances from women came her way. The cool façade she lived behind slipped firmly back into place. She lifted her chin, smiled, and walked proudly at Santos’s side.

What would they think if they knew the truth? Would they gasp in shock at the calculated plan she was acting out?

‘Georgie?’ Emma’s voice filtered through the defensive wall she’d quickly rebuilt, despite the hum of her body.

She looked into her sister’s face and saw genuine happiness. It shone from her eyes so brightly that she knew she was doing the right thing. She touched Emma’s arm and gave her a secretive smile. The smile of a woman who was being swept away by the most magnetic man she’d ever met.

‘I’ll call you in the morning.’

Emma’s smile widened and she looked from her to Santos and back again. ‘Okay.’ She grinned and turned to leave, obviously in a hurry to tell Carlo.

‘Let’s go,’ Georgina said, without looking at Santos. The taste of deception was strong in her mouth.

‘I like it.’

His voice purred like a big cat content to take it easy for a while. He led her out of the noise of the party into the hotel foyer. The lights were brighter—too bright—as if she was now under his spotlight. His gaze slid down her again, desire still sparking in his eyes despite the latent control in his voice.

‘What do you like?’ she questioned sharply as he began to lead her out onto the streets. She shivered against the cold autumn air.

‘Georgie.’

Emma’s pet name for her sounded so exotic on his lips—sexy, even. Her body heated despite the wind, which blew her hair quickly into disarray. She combed her fingers through it, gathering it at her neck, trying to prevent herself from becoming a totally dishevelled mess.

‘I prefer Georgina,’ she said, trying to ignore the way her body hummed as he took her hand and pulled her close against him. Was this what it was like to be protected?

Minutes later she was in the back of his chauffeur-driven car. The light from the streetlamps cast a glow around the interior and she glanced at Santos, startled to find he was watching her intently.

She looked down at her hands clasped in her lap, unable to look into the heat of his eyes.

‘You are a very beautiful woman.’

Georgina tensed. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. ‘You can drop the act now.’ Her words were stiff and she looked up at his face. The angles of his cheekbones were severe in the ever-changing light.

‘I’m enjoying the role.’ His deep voice seemed to ripple around the car, sending pinpricks of heat rushing over her. ‘And you never know who may be listening or watching.’

Georgina glanced at the chauffeur, who appeared to be concentrating on driving. She heard Santos laugh softly and her gaze flew to meet his once more. He really was charming—but on a lethal level. Somewhere deep inside her she recognised him as the kind of man who could hurt her or, worse, destroy her. He was the same type of devil-may-care man her mother had fallen for time and time again, and exactly like her father.

‘You don’t really think I’ll buy that, do you?’ She raised a brow at him, infusing indifference into her body with each syllable.

Cool and aloof. That was the protection she needed.

‘My staff are nothing but discreet,’ he replied as the car came to a stop outside some very exclusive riverside apartments.

‘That is a relief—but then I suppose I’m just another on a very long list as far as they are concerned.’ The haughty demeanour she routinely hid behind sounded in her voice, and from the look on his face, the frown that furrowed his brow, she knew she’d scored a direct hit.

With one final look at her he got out of the car, almost instantly appearing at her door. He held out his hand for her, but the look on his face suggested he was far from happy. For a moment she was worried. Had she pushed things just a little too far, taunting him like that? A man like him was used to people pandering to his ego.

She had the sudden urge to bolt past him and run away. Reason followed swiftly. She wouldn’t help her sister like that, and the shoes she was wearing certainly hadn’t been created for running.

‘If you want to drop this charade you can go home now.’ His voice was rough, edged with exasperation. ‘But just remember, querida, it was your idea.’

He was right. She had started this and she would finish it—but only when she knew her sister could marry the man she loved without any implications from this power-hungry man who now stood waiting for her, looking devastatingly sexy. Did he really mean to keep this up, even in private?

For a moment she wondered if she’d already done enough. They’d been seen leaving the party together. Then she remembered Emma’s smile, the hope that had shone from her eyes. Georgina realised that it didn’t matter what anyone else thought, whether they believed their whirlwind romance was real. It only mattered what Emma thought. There was no way she could let her sister think that yet again she was marrying to secure her future. Emma was all she cared about.

She could do this—even if it meant continuing with the charade of attraction.

Taking his hand, she stepped out of the car and looked up at the tall modern building. She’d never given any thought to where he might live, but the clean, precise lines of this apartment block didn’t surprise her.

‘I suppose you have the top floor, complete with river views?’

‘Very perceptive of you.’

His voice had lowered to a steely tone, interwoven with charm, and her stomach fluttered irrationally.

‘It seems you do know something about me after all.’

Yes, I do. I know too much. I know you have an abundance of charm and the ability to break a woman’s heart.

‘It was merely an observation.’ Georgina kept the words light as he gestured her towards the entrance of the building. She was beginning to feel disorientated by him, by his seductive tone and sexy smiles. She couldn’t allow that to happen. As far as she was concerned once his name was on their marriage certificate and her sister was married all contact would be severed. She had no intention of becoming a real wife. Whatever motivation was behind that absurd request she would find a way out of it. She had to.

The lift doors closed on them with expensive silence and as they were taken upwards she kept her eyes straight ahead, watching the doors, not daring to look at him or at their reflection, which seemed to mock her from all sides. She could feel the intensity of his gaze, but refused to meet it. She didn’t dare. He was still acting the part of an attracted and attentive man and it was beginning to stir emotions she’d long since locked away.

She almost let out a sigh of relief as the lift doors opened. The opulence of the corridor wasn’t lost on her. He wrapped his arm around her, so her elbow nestled in the palm of his hand, and she moved towards the door of his apartment, a sense of dread filling her.

‘Do we really need to take it this far?’ The words left her in a rush, before she’d had time to consider them.

He stopped outside the white double doors to his apartment, his arm still around her, keeping her close. She looked up at him, desperate to keep calm. He mustn’t know just how unnerved he made her feel.

‘Yes—if you want authenticity you need to be seen leaving here tomorrow morning.’ Amusement lightened his eyes before he turned to open the doors.

‘We could have just stayed at the hotel...’ She clutched at the idea, not daring to cross the threshold, not wanting to be alone with him—especially on his territory.

‘On the contrary.’ He smiled that heart-stopping smile that could very easily make her think she was the only woman he saw, the only woman he wanted. ‘To bring you here gives a clear message to everyone who knows me—including my brother.’

With his arm firmly around her, he walked into the apartment. She had no choice but to go too. Her heels clicked on a marble floor and the low lighting hinted at a very sparse and masculine living space.

‘I don’t understand...’ The words rushed out on an unsteady breath as he finally moved away from her. At least she could breathe properly, now he wasn’t so close.

Dropping his keys onto a table, he took off his jacket and tossed it over the back of a large black leather sofa. Unable to keep her eyes off him, she watched as he loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top of his shirt. Dark tanned skin drew her eyes and she had to force herself to look away.

‘I never bring a woman back to my apartment.’

The implication of his words sank in. He was giving a very clear message—not just to Carlo, but to her. He wanted the business so badly he was prepared not only to accept her proposal of marriage, but to do everything to make it look real. Even appear to cast aside his womanising reputation and ways and take her as his wife.

‘I should be honoured, then,’ she replied flippantly, in an attempt to hide her thoughts.

He might be able to discard the way he lived for the sake of his business, but she couldn’t quite let slip the distant demeanour she hid behind. After all, it wasn’t a business she was doing it for, but the love of her sister.

‘The first woman to spend a night here with you?’

* * *

Santos flicked on a light, wanting to see Georgina’s face better. In fact he wanted to see more than just her face. All evening her soft skin had teased his senses—so much so that he’d done the one thing he never did with any woman. He’d kissed her publicly. Not just a light brush of lips on lips either, but a desire-laden kiss that held a promise of passion and satisfaction.

‘More champagne?’

He should just be showing her to her room, as he’d intended when he’d formed this bizarre back-up plan yesterday. But even then, as she’d stood so proudly in his office, he’d found the cocktail of icy control laced with underlying passion tempting. Too tempting. And challenging. What man could refuse such a challenge?

‘No, thanks.’

Her frosty tone made it clear the ice maiden was back. He watched as she walked across the room to look down on the Thames, at the city’s lights reflected in the dark water.

Ordinarily, if he’d taken a woman back to a hotel suite, he wouldn’t be thinking of any kind of drink. He would be enjoying holding her, kissing her, and thinking only of satisfying their sexual needs. But this was different.

It unnerved him, but he quickly pushed the notion to the back of his mind. It was different simply because of the deal they’d struck. Never before had he spent time with a woman for any other reason than that he wanted to.

‘Coffee?’

‘No, thanks.’ She turned to face him. ‘We both know this isn’t for real, and there isn’t anyone here to witness anything more, so can we just say goodnight and go to bed—separately?’

He raised his brows at that last word and was rewarded with a light flush to her cheeks, giving her an air of innocence. Their eyes met and for a moment it was as if everything hung in the balance. Boldly she held his gaze. Did she have any idea how magnificent she looked? A glacial beauty with barely concealed simmering passion.

‘I’ll show you to your room.’

He turned and broke the contact, but could feel her gaze following him. A sizzle of desire zipped through him and he gripped his hands into fists. If she could be so coldly in control, then so could he.

Her heels tapped rhythmically as she walked behind him, out of the vast open space of the living area and into a long corridor. He stopped outside a door, opened it, and reached in to flick on the light. ‘I trust this will be comfortable for you?’

Then he looked at her face, saw a moment of hesitancy in eyes which now sparkled like rich mahogany.

‘If you need anything I’ll be in here.’

He pushed open the door to the master bedroom, where the lights of the city were visible for miles through large windows.

‘I won’t need anything,’ she said, lifting her chin defiantly, and he fought hard the urge to lower his head and capture those full lips beneath his. He wanted to taste her again, to feel her mould to his body as if she were meant to be there.

‘I’ll see you in the morning, then,’ he said, and stepped away from her—away from the temptation of her body, away from the sweet seductive scent that wrapped itself around him.

In that moment he realised he was no better than his father if he couldn’t allow this woman to sleep alone. But she fired something deep within him. Something so powerful he didn’t want to ignore it.

‘Goodnight,’ she whispered. and moved into the room, using the door to shield her glorious body from his view, apprehension clear in her eyes.

Anger simmered in his blood, mixing with unquenched desire. He was worse than his father, moving from one woman to the next. Memories from childhood, of watching an endless stream of woman enter his home, surfaced like a tidal wave. Was he now just as bad, if he couldn’t walk away from Georgina?

‘Goodnight.’ His voice was harsh as he battled with emotions long since packed away.

Damn it all—this was a business arrangement, a means to an end. If he couldn’t get out of that clause in the will legally, then he would damn well take her up on her proposition. Keeping the business was his priority. Nothing else mattered. And if Georgina had offered herself as a sacrificial lamb, so be it. Soon she would be his wife, and he had no intention of saying goodnight then.

CHAPTER THREE

GEORGINA WOKE WITH a start. Her heart thumped in her chest like a hammer as she tried to blink away the images that had haunted her sleep. Images of Santos kissing her, wanting her. Images that had heated her body as surely as if he had spent the night next to her.

She dragged in a sharp breath and looked around the room, different now the calm light of dawn was casting its glow. Her jade dress was draped over a chair, just where she’d left it, and she pulled the sheet tighter against her, feeling suddenly naked in her underwear.

Waking up in a man’s bed, even if it was only the guest bed, was something she wasn’t used to. She groaned at the thought of the field-day the press would have if they ever found out.

She hadn’t given a thought to the morning as she’d left the party last night. Her mind had been elsewhere, thanks to Santos’s charm attack.

In that moment she knew she couldn’t face him. There was only one option. She had to leave now.

Could she make a quick getaway? The thought raced into her head and quickly she flung back the sheet and grabbed her dress. The silk was cool against her skin as she stepped into it and embarrassment washed over her as she thought of all those who’d know about this walk of shame.

She would be able to slip away without seeing Santos, she reassured herself, especially at this early hour.

She washed her face in the en-suite bathroom, trying hard to remove the traces of last night’s make-up before applying fresh mascara and lipstick—all she’d been able to fit into her evening bag.

At the bedroom door she paused, took a deep breath, forcing her racing heart to calm before slowly opening it. Silence greeted her and she smiled, sure she was going to be able to slip away. With her bag in her hand and sandals dangling from her fingers she closed the door and padded softly along the wooden floor of the hallway, but as she entered the vast open living space the smell of strong coffee greeted her.

Her heart sank.

Someone was up.

Did Santos have a housekeeper who prepared breakfast for him? Yes, that must be it. Could she slip out without whoever it was in the kitchen noticing her? Quietly she walked across the huge room, feeling more like an intruder with every step.

‘Going somewhere?’

The deep, seductive tones of Santos’s voice halted her in her tracks. She turned to look at him and tried not to react to the sexy image he created in denims and a shirt. Casual suited him. But she didn’t want to dwell on that now.

‘Home, of course.’ She kept her voice bright, as if this scenario was one she was familiar with, and met his gaze. Lifting her chin, she made every effort to appear totally indifferent to him—which was hard when he stood before her, cool and powerful, just like the man who had haunted her through her dreams last night.

‘This early?’ He pushed back the cuff of his shirt and looked at his watch, a small smile lingering on his lips. ‘I think you have time for a coffee first. Even the most hardened shoppers aren’t about this early on a Saturday.’

‘It’s not the shoppers I’m worried about,’ she said with a huff of exasperation. ‘Emma will be wondering where I am.’

‘Precisely.’

The curt word made her blink, and despite her need to get away she walked towards him. As she did so Santos turned and headed back into the kitchen, its sleek design as contemporary as the rest of the apartment.

‘How do you take your coffee?’

‘This is a game to you, isn’t it?’ She really wasn’t in the mood for pleasantries. ‘We were seen leaving the party together and your housekeeper will know I’ve spent the night. I think that is enough, don’t you?’

Santos didn’t answer, and she found herself mesmerised as he poured the coffee. In her chest her heart was pounding, and a whole stream of butterflies had taken flight in her stomach.

It’s not him, she told herself firmly. It’s just that you haven’t been in this situation for years. It was exactly this kind of awkward morning-after she had witnessed her mother and her lovers enduring, and exactly what she’d then gone and done herself as a naive young woman. But she’d changed, and repeating her past wasn’t something she wanted to do.

‘Try this.’ He took her sandals and bag from her and replaced them with a steaming mug of black coffee. ‘And even if my housekeeper had seen you—assuming she was working, that is—I would expect nothing other than her discretion.’

He smiled at her, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered ever more wildly, but before she could respond he continued, ‘At least no one will know you didn’t sleep in my bed. That would really upset our plans.’

Georgina’s fingers burned, and she was sure it wasn’t just the mug of hot liquid in her hands. His touch, brief as it was, had jolted her with a voltage more powerful than any coffee. She took a sip—anything other than stand and look at him, fearing that if she did he would see just what an effect he was having on her.

‘We left the party together. It will have to be enough.’ She instilled as much courage into her voice as she could muster, which was difficult given the way her body now tingled.

Purposefully he moved past her, to place her shoes beneath a small ornamental table and drop her bag onto its glossy surface. His expression when he turned back to her was one of guarded control.

‘I’m not a man to do things by half, Georgina. If I do something, I do it properly.’ He stepped closer to her, the fresh scent of pine and his dark hair still slightly damp evidence that he’d recently showered.

She thought of his kiss last night at the party. The feel of his lips on hers, the way she hadn’t been able to do anything other than sway towards him, and knew he was right. He didn’t do anything by halves.

‘I’m sure you don’t, Mr Ramirez—’

‘Santos,’ he interrupted, his voice firm as he moved towards her.

He was coming so near she had to brace herself against the urge to move closer to him. The desire to experience his kiss just once more was almost overwhelming. She clung to her cup of coffee as if it were a lifeline.

Distance was what she needed. Distance was the safest option. She stepped back, out of the shadow of his power. She didn’t know what was the matter with her—she’d never experienced this before. It was insane. Of all the men to find herself attracted to, why did it have to be this man? She furrowed her brow.

‘If you don’t use my name, who is going to believe this charade of yours?’

He raised his brow in question at her. Did he really think he could get the better of her so easily?

‘You appear to be taking this far more seriously than me,’ she goaded, and took another sip of her coffee before placing it on the table. Then, turning to look directly at him, she added for good measure, ‘Santos.’

‘You can be assured of that, querida.’

His lips—the ones that had set light to a trail of heady need as he’d kissed her last night—spread into a smile of the kind that made his dark eyes sparkle, full of triumph.

‘I have as much to gain from this deal as you do.’

‘More, if your commitment to it is anything to go by.’ The words flew from her before she’d had time to think. She had to remember her goal—the sole reason she’d even approached this man in the first place. Antagonising him could put it all in jeopardy.

He didn’t respond with words, but she saw his expression change. The smile still lingered, but granite hardness blazed from his eyes and he folded his arms across his chest, highlighting the breadth of his shoulders.