Lucy Monroe, Trish Morey by The Latin Lover

Author:The Latin Lover
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-05-05T08:59:15+00:00

CHAPTER TWO

SHEknew he was going to kiss her. Knew it before he’d dipped his head and angled his face in her direction. Knew it before his hand curled had around her neck, drawing her closer to him.

Knew it and didn’t move a muscle to get away.

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‘Alejandro…’

‘You already said that,’ he whispered, so quietly against her lips that she wasn’t sure if she’d heard the words or merely read them on his breath.

And then his mouth found hers and she didn’t care, for his taste was no longer just a distant memory, his touch was no longer just a dream. He was here and real and he was kissing her, his mouth moving over hers gently, his fingers stroking her neck in a massage so sensually inviting that it was impossible not to kiss him back.

And his lips were smooth and warm, inviting her participation, smoothing her objections. If Alejandro were a fabric, she decided as she melted into him, he would be silk, the finest quality Italian silk, black and rich and lustrous, moving like shadows in the light.

Her fingers bunched in his shirt, once more itching to be let loose on the firm-packed skin that lay so close beneath. He took advantage of her complicity to pull her deeper into the kiss, and she went with him into a kiss that was utterly magic and so infinitely sweet that her heart squeezed tight on the question—why couldn’t it have always been this way?—before two fat tears spilled unbidden down her cheeks.

Damn him! Two tears were more than enough to bring her to her senses. It was bad enough that she cared, but letting him see her tears—letting himknow that she cared—would be suicidal.

‘I don’t want this,’ she said, finding untapped reserves of strength, taking him by surprise as she pushed at his rock-solid chest. She spun away, her hands swiping at her cheeks, obliterating any trace of tears before she was game enough to face him again. ‘I told you. I don’t want you back.’

As if a mask had dropped, his features were suddenly harsher, all unforgiving angles and damning planes, every trace of her silken seducer banished. From across the room he regarded her coolly, his eyes like polished stones, hard and unrelenting. ‘I don’t believe you.’

She crossed her arms over her chest, keeping herself together—centred—in a world that was in danger of lurching out of control. ‘I’m afraid you’ve wasted a trip, Spaniard,’ she said, not caring this time if she was rude, determined not to make the mistake of mentioning his name again. It was distance she needed right now. Distance, and to be once more left alone.

‘You will come back to me,’ he said, taking a step closer.

‘Not a chance.’

‘You will be my lover again.’

‘Don’t tell me what I will do! This is my city, my world. Here, I decide.’

‘And I tell you now, youwill decide to come back to me.’

She crossed to the door on knees that threatened to buckle beneath her, opened it and let the noise of the outside world in.

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