The Spaniard's Inconvenient Wife (2 page)

‘Spare me the gory details,’ he grated. ‘Just give me a round number.’

This was the Estrella Medrano that Ramón had been led to expect; the woman he had heard that she was. He’d let himself be distracted by the way that she looked, because she hadn’t been at all as he had expected. She wasn’t even close to the way he had imagined her. His first sight of her had surprised him so much that he had found himself staring blankly at her when she had appeared in the doorway

In the picture he had formed of her in his mind, she had been small, and voluptuous, and definitely a little wild. The woman who had a reputation like Estrella Medrano would have to be wild. He had expected short hair and even shorter skirts, and cosmetics applied with a heavy hand. He had
expected colour and clash in her clothing, and of course that defiance that her story had led him to be sure he would see.

Instead she was taller, slimmer, quieter—altogether sleeker and more elegant than he had ever imagined. From her oval-shaped face with its high, slanting cheekbones to the slim, fine boned feet in the simple black pumps, she was restraint personified. Only the fall of her rich silky hair, black and shining as polished jet, hinted at an uncontrolled element in her that didn’t quite fit with the plain white blouse and simple, beautifully cut skirt, severe as a nun’s habit.

She was beautiful. She was stunning, and sexy as hell— but as cold and hard as a brilliant diamond.

If he hadn’t believed the tales of her past before, he believed them now. Oh, yes, he believed them! He’d just about had confirmation from her own mouth—not of the past perhaps—but of the calculating way she and her father had got together to select their prey, hunt it down, try to capture it.

‘How many?’

‘Ten.’ It was cold and clear and hard as stone. ‘Before you there were nine others. You’re the tenth.’

Her head inclined slightly at the sound of his vicious, savage-toned curse, but other than that she showed no sign of reaction.

‘I warned you you wouldn’t like it.’

‘You’re damn right I don’t like it,’ Ramón growled. ‘I don’t like it and I don’t like you. I don’t like being manipulated.’

‘I didn’t manipulate…’ she began, but then her voice trailed off as her wide dark eyes met the anger that he knew must be showing in his face.

‘You knew what was going on.’

‘I—yes,’ she admitted.

‘And you didn’t think it might be—courteous at the very least to let me know that you knew?’

But that had her lifting her chin again, bringing those dark eyes up to lock with his as if daring him to go on with this line of questioning.

‘You’re a fine one to talk about courtesy!’ she flung at him. ‘Or about what I should or should not have said to you! After all, you’re the one who was prepared to go along with my father’s plan!’

But Ramón was not having that. He had known so clearly what he meant to do from the moment that Alfredo Medrano had made his appalling suggestion. No, it hadn’t been a suggestion, more a command issued from the height of the autocratic older man’s belief in his own superiority. A decree of what he wanted—and he expected that everyone would jump to give him what he demanded.

And because Ramón had known what he expected, he fully intended to thwart him totally.

‘Hell, no!’ he cut in savagely.

‘No?’ Estrella questioned ironically, one fine black brow lifting in mocking enquiry. ‘Then what are you doing here?’

It was a question he was forced to ask himself. What the devil was he doing here, being subjected to a scolding by this dark-eyed harridan?

This beautiful, dark-eyed harridan.

This beautiful, sexy, dark-eyed, full-lipped harridan.

This sexy, dark-eyed harridan whose angry stance had pulled her spine so straight, setting her hands so firmly on her slender hips, that the sensual enticement of her full breasts was thrust forward, impossible to ignore. And whose furious temper had put rich flags of colour on the golden skin of her face, high up on the elegant, slanting cheekbones.

How could she do this? How did she do it? How could
she be so aggressive, so cynical, so hostile, so damn infuriating—and still look so beautiful and appealing that he just couldn’t get his mind to work straight?

‘You know only too well why I’m here—I came to—’

‘You originally came to negotiate the sale of the company, I know that! But you admitted that my father wouldn’t sell.’

‘Unless I agreed to his conditions.’

‘Unless you agreed to his conditions,’ Estrella echoed mockingly. ‘And then you stayed. I wonder why.’

‘You know why I stayed,’ he growled, struggling to keep his thoughts from wandering, fighting against the kick of carnal need that almost had him doubling up in pain. His mouth had dried so suddenly that it made his voice rough and harsh, rasping as if from a sore and inflamed throat. ‘I stayed to talk to you.’

‘To follow my father’s orders and get me to marry you!’

The words came out on a rush of air as she whirled away from him, circling the big leather armchair until she was behind it, the wide, high back acting as a barrier between them and a defensive shield as she faced him once again.

‘You can think that if you want.’

‘You told me how much you wanted the TV company.’

With the provocation of her body hidden behind the big chair, it should have been easier to think more clearly, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. The fact was that all he could think about was the swift, brief glimpse he had had of her taut, rounded behind in the sexily tight black skirt as she’d swung away from him, the sway of her hips as she’d moved. He felt hard and hot and hungry and thinking clearly was the last thing he was capable of doing.

‘Oh, I wanted it—but not that badly! Not badly enough to want to tie myself to you!’

He’d caught her on the raw there, he noted with grim
satisfaction. She’d actually flinched, the slim, elegantly manicured fingers resting on the back of the chair tightening convulsively, digging into the burgundy leather. The satisfaction of seeing her react with something more than scorn pulled at his darkest feelings and a terrible imp of malice urged him to score another hit while he could.

‘I’ve no thought of marrying any time soon. Why should I want to tie myself down when there are hundreds of beautiful women all over Catalonia and beyond? And even if I was, I do have some pride. I would much prefer to choose my own bride than marry someone I had to be bribed to wed.’

‘Well don’t worry—you won’t even get the chance!’

He didn’t mince his words, did he? Estrella fought a sharp little battle with herself to hide the sting of his barbed attack, refusing to let the tears threaten, even though they pricked hard at the backs of her eyes. She’d wept enough in the past over men who weren’t worth it—one man in particular. And after being emotionally savaged by an expert like Carlos, petty insults like this were a piece of cake.

Or at least they should have been. But somehow this man’s knife thrusts got under her skin, scoring brutal wounds along her soul.

‘I wouldn’t marry you if my life and the future of mankind depended on it!’ she flung at him. ‘If you were to ask me—’

‘Which I won’t.’

‘If you were to ask me,’ Estrella persisted through gritted teeth, ‘I’d throw the words right back in your face and love every second of it.’

‘Well, enjoy the feeling of imagining it,’ Ramón tossed back. ‘Because, believe me, that’s as close as you’ll ever get to doing it. I’ve no intention of putting my head in a noose just so that you can pull it tight around my throat, even if you are the sexiest thing on two legs I’ve seen in a long, long time.’

T
HE
sexiest thing on two legs…

Estrella couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Had Ramón really said—?

A warm, intoxicating sense of pleasure flooded her veins, making her head swim with sudden and purely feminine delight. In spite of herself she couldn’t stop a swift, tiny smile from tugging at the corners of her lips. It was brief as a heartbeat; there and gone in a second. But he caught it and his black brows twitched together in an even harsher frown.

‘Oh, you liked that did you,’ he drawled cynically. ‘You liked the thought that I find you sexy? Well, don’t think that you can use it to your advantage. I’m not so desperate that I would want Carlos Perea’s cast-offs—even if they do come with a substantial bribe of the TV company in the form of a dowry. I’d want much more than that.’

‘Well, you could have had more.’

This time Estrella’s brief, tight smile had none of the fleeting warmth and delight of just moments before.

‘If you’d played your cards right, my father would have settled anything on you. Everything you wanted—right down to the castle and the title that goes with it. If you’d given him a grandson, his gratitude would have known no bounds.’

The look that crossed his stunning face puzzled her. As did the momentary pause before he came back at her. She’d said something that had hit home to him—but what? She barely had time to formulate the question before his ex
pression changed again, the cold-eyed sneer coming back with a vengeance.

‘Thanks, but no, thanks,’ he drawled. ‘Even with the added incentives the deal is still way too expensive.’

‘I wasn’t offering,’ Estrella snapped back. ‘I was simply pointing out just what you’ve missed. There is no deal on offer, Señor Dario, nor ever will be—at least not where you’re concerned.’

Coming out from behind the chair, she marched across the room towards the door, twisting the handle with a violence that made her wish it were his neck, and smiled grimly to herself at the thought.

‘All negotiations are closed,’ she said, opening the door wide and standing aside so as to give him more than enough space to get through without having to come within an inch of her. ‘This meeting is at an end. I would appreciate it if you would leave.’

‘Willingly,’ Ramón returned, sharp as a stiletto blade, and he actually sketched a small, cynical parody of a courtly bow in her direction before he moved too.

His every stride, the tautly upright, uptight way he held his strong body, told exactly the mood he was in. He was furious, and it showed. He also despised her totally, wished he were anywhere but here, and couldn’t get out of the room quickly enough.

Which made a total nonsense of the sudden, overwhelming feeling she had: the impossible, unbelievable, but savage sense of regret that tore at her with the realisation that in two minutes, maybe less, he would be gone. And she would never see him again.

But that was what she wanted, wasn’t it? To have him out of her life, never to see him again. Never to have to look into his eyes and see the burning scorn, the icy contempt that made her shiver like a leaf in the wind.

It was what she wanted, but, just watching him, she was a prey to a sudden shaft of pure need. She didn’t know how, she didn’t know why, but something about this man had hit home to all that was female in her. She had been able to let all the others go without a single qualm—but not him. He hadn’t even touched her—or kissed her and if she let him go now, like this, then he never would.

The need to have known this man’s kiss, if only once in her lifetime, was so overpowering that she almost spoke of it. She actually opened her mouth to beg him to stay, just for a moment. To pause and turn away from his determined path.

But she didn’t dare. Her tongue seemed tied into knots and she could only watch in silence as Ramón continued on his way towards the open door.

But not out of the door.

Instead, just as he came near, he made a tiny detour, coming close to her instead. The look in his eyes warned her, but before Estrella could quite work out just what was in his mind he had already acted.

Reaching out, he caught hold of her shoulders, pulling her up to him with a sudden, jerky movement. All the breath escaped from her lungs in a gasp as her breasts made contact with the hard, warm wall of his chest, and she had no time to think, or resist, before his hand came under her chin and pushed it upwards so that her angry black eyes clashed with the cool, assessing grey of his.

‘I’ll leave,’ he muttered roughly, his voice thick with suppressed rage and something else, something that made her shiver inwardly, but whether in fear or a thread of excited anticipation, she was unable to say. ‘I’ll leave—and willingly—but first there’s something I just have to do.’

Storm cloud eyes dropped to her lips just in time to catch
her slicking them nervously with her tongue before his gaze flicked back up to meet her nervous ebony one.

‘Something I’ve been wanting to do since the moment I met you. Something you’ve been tempting me to do since you walked through that door.’

‘I—’ Estrella tried to protest, but the words were crushed back down her throat as his mouth came down on hers, taking possession of her lips with a wildly demanding hunger that struck with all the force of a tidal wave.

A tidal wave that swept her away completely with its power, driving all thoughts from her mind. Instead, she was only aware of sensation, of the throbbing pulse of the blood at her temples, the heat of her skin, the way that the world seemed to swirl around her.

And of Ramón.

Ramón, so big and dark and strong, his arms enclosing her, his lips on hers, his skin against her skin, his breath on her face. The scent of him was in her nostrils, clean and subtly musky, and the warmth of his body was all around her, pervading every nerve, every cell until she was unable to tell which was Ramón, and which was her.

Unable to stop herself, she kissed him right back. Her mouth opened under his, her lips not forced apart but responding, enticing, welcoming the sensual slide and caress of his tongue, meeting its silky exploration with her own.

Her hands fluttered up to the width of his shoulders under the finely tailored jacket. They touched, explored, lingered for a moment, but then, unsatisfied, they moved again, upwards, to slide over his neck, then combing her fingers through the silky darkness of his hair.

‘Ramón…’

It was just a murmur against his mouth, his name choked out with no control, no coherent thought.

‘Ramón…’ she sighed again and felt his soft, faintly
shaken laughter against her cheek before he drew her close again and took her mouth once more.

Driven by the wild heat uncoiling in the pit of her stomach and spreading lower, pooling between her legs, she couldn’t stop herself from crushing up against him, fitting her pelvis to his and feeling the swollen evidence of a hungry desire for more than just a kiss.

The rough, incoherent sound he made in his throat in response worked on her already heated senses like the most ardent encouragement, so that the fingers in his hair twisted and tangled in the dark strands, clutching tightly as she tugged his head down even more, pressing her mouth closer to his.

The heat of his palms was on her ribcage, burning through the fine cotton of her shirt, and he was walking her backwards, clumsily, awkwardly, urgently backwards until they came up hard against the wall. With the wall at her back and the fierce, hot pressure that was all Ramón crushed up against her front, Estrella should have felt trapped, but instead the sensation that burned through her was exactly the opposite.

She wanted more. More of this heat, this power. More of the hectic pulse that was sending her heart rate skyrocketing. More of the heavier, harder throb that centred at the joining of her thighs, making her shift restlessly at its urging. More of the wild and heady sensations that were making her head swim.

She wanted more of Ramón’s kisses, more of his touch. She wanted his hands to move upwards, higher—higher. Her breasts ached with the need to feel his hard fingers against them, caressing, teasing… And the erotic hunger was so strong that she actually moaned aloud in her need.

The next moment, to her horror, it was as if the sound had been a slap in the face to Ramón. Or a shout of warning,
telling him that this could not go on. Because he suddenly stilled, paused, then lifted his head with deliberate slowness, looking deep into her eyes as he did so.

And as that cold, steely gaze burned into hers she felt the jarring shock of the unwanted return to reality, the abrupt descent from the giddy heights of passion to this cold, hard moment making her feel faintly nauseous. Desperately struggling with a numb sense of shock at her own behaviour, and the knowledge that the way Ramón was looking at her was a million miles away from lover-like, she tried to school her features into a mask of cold indifference but had no idea at all whether she had even come close to succeeding.

‘Madre de Dios…’
Ramón breathed rawly.
‘Madre de Dios.’

She looked as dazed as he felt, Ramón acknowledged through the haze of unfocused thoughts, sexual imaginings and yearning demand that filled what might laughingly have been called his brain. He was dazed and knocked sideways by the wild and uncontrollable passion that had suddenly flared between them.

Suddenly but not unexpectedly. It had been what he had wanted almost from the moment he had met her. All he had wanted and more.

He had wanted her. Hadn’t been able to resist the urge to kiss her. Hadn’t been able to hold back when the chance had come to take her into his arms and kiss the haughty condescension from her face.

What he hadn’t anticipated had been her response. He had thought that kissing her would have been like kissing a brick wall, cold and hard and totally unyielding.

Instead she had been pure fire in his arms. She had ignited like a firework, becoming nothing but heat and flame, flashing lightning, whirling sparks that had exploded inside his head. In that moment his control had gone into total melt
down. He hadn’t known where he was or who he was, had had no idea what was happening. His whole being had been concentrated on one desire: the need to know this woman as intimately and as totally as he could. His senses screamed to have her, his body harder and hotter than it had ever been before in his life. Another moment more and he would have ripped her clothes from her and flung her down onto the floor, easing the ravenous demand of his hungry body in her responsive and willing flesh.

It was only when that small, moaning cry had brought him to a sudden awareness of where he was and who she was that any sense of reality had returned. With that realisation had come a rush of sanity that had felt like a brutal blow to the side of his head, forcing him to tear his mouth away from hers and fight desperately for control over the excruciating burn of frustration low down in his groin.

‘Well, how about that?’ he forced himself to drawl, as if he weren’t in the least affected by the sudden tidal wave of passion that had broken over him. Only by blanking off his mind from the rest of his still hungry body could he keep his voice under control, stop the words from breaking harshly in the middle.

“‘All negotiations are closed,”’ he quoted, echoing her words of what seemed like a lifetime ago but had in fact only been a couple of heated, mind-blowing minutes. “‘This meeting is at an end.” Oh, my dear Doña Estrella—is that how you dismiss all your business partners? With a kiss?’

‘I—’

Estrella opened her mouth to answer him, then clearly lost control of her voice and had to close it again, swallowing hard and hurriedly. ‘I didn’t kiss you,’ she managed at last. ‘As I remember it, you were the one who kissed me. And we are not part
ners, not by any stretch of the imagination. Not business partners or—or any other kind of partners at all.’

‘Of course not,’ Ramón accompanied the words with a cynical smile. ‘But as I remember it, you were definitely not holding back. Quite the opposite, in fact.’

Holding her huge, dazed eyes with his, he let his smile grow as he remembered.

“‘I wouldn’t marry you if my life and the future of mankind depended on it,”’ he quoted again, watching her sharp, embarrassed start of response as she recognised her own words. ‘Not marry me, perhaps, Doña Medrano, but I’d be willing to bet that if I’d asked you to come to bed with me then, you’d have been there like a shot. You probably still would.’

She drew in a brusque little breath and opened her mouth to rage at him in protest. But Ramón broke in again swiftly, before she even had time to speak a word.

‘But, much as I would like to take you up on what you’re offering, I’m afraid I’m going to have to decline. If there was one thing that kiss taught me then it’s that I was right the first time—any deal with you is going to cost way too much. And frankly, I don’t think you’re worth it.’

He was just going to have to pray that she bought that, he told himself as he turned and walked away. He was not going to look back; not going to give her a chance to argue with him or say anything more. Because the truth was that he really didn’t think he had any chance of convincing her if he spoke again.

Hell, he hadn’t even convinced himself.

If she had said one word of encouragement to him—if even now she called to him, asked him to come back, he knew damn well that he would do it. He couldn’t not do it. He wanted her so much that even walking was agony, with
his body still totally aroused and heatedly demanding the satisfaction he had refused to give it.

If he stopped, if he paused, he would turn. If he turned, he would see her—and she would see him. She couldn’t be unaware of the physical state he was in, not unless she was blind and stupid, and he knew she was neither of those. And if he saw her face again, her mouth swollen and pink from his kisses, her black hair mussed and tousled around her face, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from going back to her, gathering her up into his arms, and continuing from where they had left off—and this time nothing, but nothing, would stop him from taking what he wanted. Even if Alfredo himself came into the room in the middle of the whole thing.