A Spanish Awakening

His hand did not fall away. Instead he touched her ear lobe, seeming to notice the amber studs in the gold setting for the first time. His dark, thickly lashed eyes drifted downwards to the hollow of her throat where a pulse fluttered visibly against the tender blue-veined white skin.

Any residual guilt he might have felt for exploiting the situation had long vanished. It had been a long time coming, but Megan Armstrong was going to be his and he was going to make her forget every man she had ever been with—and, Madre di Dios, he was going to enjoy every second of it!

His fingertips barely brushed her, but even the suggestion of contact sent a shiver of sensation across the surface of her skin. She was frozen to the spot by a wave of enervating lust that was terrifying in its strength.

Hating the feeling of being utterly helpless and not in control, Megan hid behind the sweeping half-moon fan of her dark lashes and, like a drowning man clinging to a straw, repeated, You’ll laugh about this later, over and over in her head.

‘I like those,’ he said, making her shiver as he touched, not just the earring, but the thin layer of skin behind her ear, and Megan realised it really was an erogenous zone.

God, I’ve got erogenous zones!

She met his dark intent gaze and thought, God, I’ve got a problem!

Her hand came up to push his away—that had been the intention at least. Instead she somehow ended up with her fingers curled over his and stayed there for an awkward heart-thudding moment.

‘They were my mum’s.’

Her eyes dropped from his uncomfortably perceptive gaze a moment before they filled with emotional tears. The earrings were one of a handful of physical reminders she had of her mother, along with her watch and the creased and grainy snapshot of herself as a baby held in her mother’s arms she carried in her wallet.

‘They match your eyes. Did your mother have golden eyes too?’ His voice flowed over her like honey.

She was startled by the question; the eyes in question flew to his. He wasn’t really interested, she told herself. This little byplay was presumably for Rosanna’s benefit—like the kisses.

‘Yes, she did. I … I look like her.’

‘Then she must have been a very beautiful woman.’

Megan felt her heart give a traitorous thud and forced herself to look away. He looked genuine but he was about as sincere as a politician running for re-election; she would be a fool if she lost sight of that fact.

Twisting her earring, she turned to the older woman. ‘Look, it was nice to see you again but I’m running late.’

‘Of course, and it was very nice to see you too, Megan,’ she said warmly. ‘Philip often speaks of you.’

‘You speak to Philip? ‘

A look of consternation crossed the older woman’s face. ‘I, well—’

Emilio cut across her. ‘I hate to interrupt, ladies, but—’ he tapped the face of the watch on his wrist and angled a significant look at Megan ‘—this is why we are running late. You talk too much.’ Grabbing her arm, he dropped a kiss on Rosanna’s cheek and headed for the exit, virtually dragging Megan along with him.

She angled an angry look up at his lean face. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘I am rescuing you from an awkward situation.’

Megan loosed an incredulous hoot as they emerged in the fresh air. She pulled away from him and stood, hands on hips, glaring at him.

‘An awkward situation of your making.’

He flashed a grin and held out an arm towards her. ‘The car is this way.’

Megan didn’t move. ‘Goodbye.’

He studied her face for a moment before sighing. ‘Look, we can—’

‘Do this the hard way or the easy way,’ she slotted in.

‘Tempting, but no, I was going to say we can stand here debating this, but in the end you will accept a lift because the alternative is a very long wait.’ He nodded towards the long queues beside the empty taxi ranks. ‘And you are, I am led to believe, a practical woman not given to cutting off her very pretty nose to spite her beautiful face.

‘Besides, I promised your father I would take care of you.’

‘And you are a man of your word?’

‘It hurts me you doubt it.’ The silence stretched as he watched her struggle. ‘Of course, if for some reason you are afraid to get in a car with me …?’

Her chin went up. ‘Of course I’m not afraid,’ she scoffed.

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