Surrender to Her Spanish Husband (10 page)

BOOK: Surrender to Her Spanish Husband
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Biting back a ripe curse, he saluted an old man who was walking a terrier, then—with his head down against the strong gusting wind—retraced his steps back to the car.

‘Where did you go?’

‘I took a walk on the beach. You were sleeping when I left.’

‘I sensed you weren’t in the house when I woke up.’

‘So you missed me, then?’

‘I didn’t say that. I just didn’t want you to leave without saying goodbye.’

‘I would not have left without telling you I intended to go…nor would I have absconded without paying my bill.’

Her mouth dropping open, Jenny stared at Rodrigo in amazement. ‘You don’t think I’m going to charge you for your stay when all you’ve done since you walked in here is look after me?’

‘That was hardly your fault. Besides…’ his hand scraped through his windblown black hair, then down over his jacket ‘…it’s a business your friend is running here,
querida
—not a charity.’

At the apt reminder Jenny’s heart sank.
Some helpful caretaker she’d turned out to be!
Her own business was struggling, and she had an inkling it was because her heart wasn’t really in it. When she returned to London she would throw herself into things a bit more determinedly, but what if she just wasn’t cut out to run a business at all? Ostensibly her talents lay in her creativity, not making money.

Thinking back over what she’d had to deal with in the past as far as her relationships were concerned, she wished she could have been stronger. But her trust had been shattered both by her brother and Rodrigo, and she’d defy anyone to cope with that and be full of confidence.

Glancing across at the flickering television screen, Rodrigo slipped off his jacket and threw it onto a cream pin-tucked armchair. Even at a distance Jenny scented the tang of the sea that clung to him from his walk. She wished she’d been well enough to accompany him.

‘What are you watching?’ he asked interestedly.

‘Pride and Prejudice.’
She swallowed down the regret that washed over her. All she’d ever really desired was a kind, loving husband, children of her own and a lovely home. A wistful sigh escaped her at the story unfolding on the screen, where she knew the heroine Lizzie
would
get the man and the house she dreamed of. ‘I love period dramas…the clothes, the beauty of the architecture, the manners…and the simmering unspoken passions underneath all that buttoned-up corsetry and politeness.’

The phrase ‘buttoned-up corsetry’ made Rodrigo wince. He was having trouble enough trying to keep his desire for Jenny under tight control without being taunted by images of her in an old-fashioned virginal white corset—that he, of course, would be only too eager to divest her of…

‘And is Mr Darcy your idea of the perfect man, Jenny?’

Her blue eyes looked dreamy for a moment, but then she shook her head. ‘Not really.’ Her fingers plucked restlessly at the plaid wool blanket. ‘After all, he’s just a character in a book. If you really lived with a man like that I’d bet it wouldn’t be long before his true colours emerged. He’d probably prove to be exactly what she originally thinks him to be—an egomaniac who believes it is his God-given right to have exactly what he wants including a wife who reflects his pompous vision of himself! It’s been my experience that men are selfish creatures, on the whole. They only really want what
they
want…no matter how much it may hurt the women who care for them.’

Rodrigo winced. He knew instantly this wasn’t just about the fictional Mr Darcy. ‘I’m sorry your experience of men has been so negative,’ he murmured.

Tugging the blanket up around her chest, she visibly shivered. ‘I’m not just referring to you. My brother Tim was an addict…You didn’t know that, did you? You name it, he was hooked on it. Pot, cocaine, heroin, alcohol, gambling—everything. And when his own money wasn’t enough to pay for it all, he thought it his right to demand mine. Especially after you and I parted and he thought I was rich.’

‘I had my reservations about your brother, but I had no idea he was as you say. I wish you could have shared that with me when we were together.’

‘Why? You couldn’t have changed him. If you’d got to know him he’d only have ended up using you for what he could get…just like he did with me. It didn’t matter that we were brother and sister.’

‘What happened before he went to Scotland, Jenny? I want to know.’

She stared at him with a haunted look. ‘He put me through hell, trying to get our family house from me.’ She dropped her head onto her raised knees. Glancing up again, she pushed back her hair. ‘When I finally agreed to buy him out, that and the legal costs almost bankrupted me. The court case was horrendous. He persuaded a besotted rich girlfriend to pay for some whiz-bang lawyer, and the lies he told about me to plead his case were vile…such vindictive, terrible lies that I wanted to die. Anyway, when I was worn out with fighting I agreed to a settlement. I only did it because I knew if he won the case everything my parents had worked so hard for would have been sold for a song to pay for his out-of-control lifestyle. Ironic that not long after he’d been paid out the house caught fire and burned down and it all went anyway.’

‘My God! If I had had any idea that that was the situation you were returning to when we broke up I would have—’

‘You would have what, Rodrigo? Taken me back?’ Her eyes glittering, Jenny shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Besides…I can fight my own battles.’

‘You are strong, that is true…But it grieves me to hear you went through that alone.’

Switching off the television, Rodrigo lowered himself onto the end of the couch. His glance alighted on Jenny’s lovely face as fervently as a ship looked for the lodestar—and he saw that her gaze shimmered with tears.

‘The truth is I don’t know if I have the heart to continue with my business’ she confessed. ‘I worked so hard at it—and for what? The thing I wanted most in the world was a family and a home of my own. You and I only lasted a year, my parents are gone, and my relationship with my brother is non-existent because of what happened. I never envisaged spending the rest of my life alone.’

‘And neither will you be alone for ever, Jenny. It simply is not possible. One day everything will change for the better and you will have your dream.’

‘Does your famous intuition tell you that Rodrigo?’

Fielding the swathe of pain that cut through him at the despondency in her voice, Rodrigo struggled to find the words to convince her life would improve. It didn’t help that he had played a big part in making her mistrust her future.

‘It’s no surprise that you got ill. There is too much hurt and unhappiness weighing down your heart, and I honestly regret that.’

Jenny stared at him. ‘I think you do. But, like me, you can’t help how you’re made. Your past has shaped you too, and you’ve grown to believe that work is the most important thing. I don’t like the idea of you being alone for the rest of your life either.’

‘Maybe I deserve to? Anyway, I will just have to live with my mistakes, if that’s what they are.’

‘Sometimes you’re far too hard on yourself—do you know that?’

When she leaned over and squeezed his arm, Rodrigo sensed such a tide of heat and longing sweep over him that all he could do was stare down at that small perfect palm circling his wrist without any words at all. Then his brain engaged properly.

‘I’m a man who goes for what he wants and gets it, Jenny. To get on in this life you have to cultivate some steel. To this day I’ve never allowed sentiment to get in the way of making the decisions that suit
me
best—whether that’s in my private life or my work. You know that to your cost. So please don’t waste your time thinking I need kindness and forgiveness.’

Chapter Seven

R
ODRIGO
was on his feet before Jenny had a chance to respond. ‘It’s getting late, and I should see to our meal. Finish watching your DVD…relax and enjoy it.’

Without glancing back to gauge her expression, he strode out through the door into the hallway. The cat followed him. In the kitchen, he automatically located the ingredients he needed for their meal from the fridge and the larder, pausing briefly to fill a dish of food for Cozette when her pitiful mewing became too loud to ignore. Straightening, he leant his hip against the counter, pressing his fingers deeply into his brow.

It was about time Jenny fully realised that he couldn’t pursue a relationship with her for a second time.
Even if that meant that next time he met her eyes they would be even more wary and sad around him.

If he hadn’t been married to her before would he have stayed and played nursemaid as he had done? It was an uncomfortable thought, but a truthful one at least. He’d stayed purely because it was Jenny. On Monday he was leaving, all being well, and right now he needed to employ some of that distance he spoke about. God knew it should be second nature to him when it came to relationships—especially when someone threatened to get too close. But twice now Jenny had almost made him forget that. If he employed his usual strategy it would make it less hard for him to go and easier for Jenny to let him.

A long time ago his father had warned him not to let his focus stray from his ambition. ‘Play by all means,’ he had advised his son. ‘But do not allow yourself to become too involved.’ Having made the error once before of thinking he could have it all—marriage
and
a successful business—Rodrigo intended to steer well clear of such a dangerous and misleading temptation again.

In the charmingly decorated living room, with its gently ticking French antique clock, Jenny was asleep. About to shake her, Rodrigo saw that she slumbered as deeply and peacefully as an untroubled child—just as if she’d laid all her worries and cares aside. Her angelic features were slightly flushed, and her glorious hair tumbled round her shoulders in shining ringlets the hue of golden summer sunshine.

It seemed heartless to wake her to tell her that a meal was ready. Instead he divested her of the blanket tucked round her, then lifted her carefully into his arms. She barely even stirred. Just disconcertingly rested her head against his chest and gently sighed.

Clenching his jaw, because her soft, pliant body was exquisitely, painfully arousing him, Rodrigo carried her upstairs to bed. Leaving the door slightly ajar, to let the light flood in from the landing, he didn’t bother to switch on the lamp. The rose scent from her skin sneaked captivatingly under his radar. It stormed his senses as he laid her down under the covers. With great care he removed her already opened dressing gown, then dropped it onto a nearby chair.

As he leaned over to tuck the covers up round her shoulders, Jenny’s stunning blue eyes fluttered open. ‘Mmm…’ she breathed, coiling her arms round his neck. ‘You smell so nice.’

He froze.
She must be dreaming he thought. But then she laid her hand across his cheek, tenderly stroking it.

‘You’re such a good man, really…and sometimes…sometimes so hard to resist.’

‘Do you know what you are saying?’ he demanded huskily.

‘Yes, I do. I’m wide awake, Rodrigo.’

‘This is a dangerous game you’re playing, Jenny Wren.’

‘Don’t you want to kiss me?’ she whispered, her hand moving gracefully from his cheek into his hair.

His blood heating violently, Rodrigo gripped her shoulder. Self-control was suddenly frighteningly thin. ‘I want much more than just a sweet, drowsy little kiss, my angel. Unless you are prepared for that, then we will stop this right here, right now.’

In answer, Jenny gazed up at him with her bewitching light eyes full of longing. Then, with a fleeting bold smile, she slanted her petal-soft lips against his.

Kissing her back fully on the mouth was like coming home at last.
His fantasy of tasting her like this again was like a pastel watercolour compared to vividly sensuous passionate reality. With a rough groan, Rodrigo let his hard, sensually aching body fall against the inviting feminine curves beneath him. His lips clashed urgently with Jenny’s for a short-lived second before his tongue hungrily invaded the hot purse of the sweetest silken mouth he’d ever tasted. He devoured it like a pauper at a banquet.

Arching her body to get closer, she feathered soft little gasps of pleasure over him, and as he pressed her deep down into the mattress she matched every groan and feverish demand he was meting out with equal ardour. Her small hands urgently pushed at his sweater, in search of the warm hard flesh underneath, and she tangled her long bare legs with his still jean-clad ones.

Rodrigo was left in no doubt that they were of a single mind. Sweeping the counterpane aside so he could join her in bed, he shucked off his expensive Italian loafers, jettisoned his sweater, and repositioned himself on top of her. Then he feverishly manoeuvred Jenny’s simple white nightgown up over her pale thighs until his palms located her firmly defined satin hipbones. Stilling for just a moment, he unzipped his fly.

It was as if he’d left his mind at the door.
Pure, undiluted primal desire was what was driving him—desire sharpened into dizzying focus by Jenny’s seductive hot mouth brushing against his over and over. Her hands were moulding themselves to his jean-clad rear as she impelled him urgently towards her.

‘You have bewitched me without even trying,’ he breathed against her ear, and then, freeing himself, he inserted his hard aching shaft deeply between her slender thighs in a long shattering thrust. Secluded by the semi-dark, they stared back at each other in mutual wonderment.

If this was a dream then Jenny wanted it to go on for ever…It was true she
had
been lost in the most delicious sensual fantasy about Rodrigo when she’d sensed him lift her up from the couch. The warm, woody scent of him along with the colossal strength in his arms had made that fantasy blossom into the most vividly detailed erotic sequence she could have imagined.

Then she had opened her eyes, felt his warm breath on her face, and been so transfixed by the most tempting magnetic sea of ebony silk that she hadn’t had a prayer of resisting.

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