Page 21 of Spanish Marriage Solution

Except pretending this thing between them didn’t exist was the lie they’d told themselves for years, the lie they kept on telling themselves in order for them both to have the future they wanted.

A future that had been destroyed by their respective spouses.

Now all they had were the remains: grief and guilt and no answer to either.

He shouldn’t make this harder. He shouldn’t want to hear her say that it hadn’t been the grief, that it had been more, because there was nothing to be gained from that conversation. Knowing it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference to the distance they had to keep between them.

Perhaps, after all, it was easier if they pretended nothing had happened.

Yes, that was probably for the best.

He dropped his hand from her arm, the warmth of her skin lingering on his fingertips. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It was a mistake. I’ll let you get to bed.’

Something flickered through her gaze, though he couldn’t tell what, and then, without another word, she left the room, leaving him to the silence.

CHAPTER SIX

ALICE BARELY SLEPT. Every time she closed her eyes, she could see Sebastián’s face in the darkness behind her lids. The carved lines of his features harsh and fierce with desire, pleasure glowing bright in his eyes. Pleasure that she gave him. And then everything he’d given her in return...

Her body pulsed with the reminder of the passion he’d poured into her. The way he’d ripped her dress away and her underwear too, as if he couldn’t wait to get his hands on her. Then his kiss, the blinding heat of it...

Restlessly, she turned over in bed yet again, aching, unable to stop thinking, too, of the aftermath. After all of that wonder and pleasure the first words out of his mouth had been ‘I didn’t use a condom’. As if he hadn’t shared any of that wonder and ecstasy with her. As if the only thing that had mattered to him was the possibility that she might be pregnant.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have flung the truth of her miscarriage in his face, but it had felt as if he’d taken something special and precious and thrown it in the dirt. She’d felt a momentary sense of satisfaction at the look of shock on his face when she’d told him, and it had been enough to help her walk from the room with her head held high. But then that satisfaction had vanished and all she’d felt was sick guilt.

She’d showered before she’d gone to bed, even though part of her hadn’t wanted to wash away the scent of him on her skin, desperate to hold onto the physical reminders for as long as she could.

But nothing could wash away what he’d said to her and how cheap she’d felt afterwards. Or the knowledge that he’d felt that same guilt too, because she’d seen it in his eyes.

The only way forward, it seemed, was to pretend it hadn’t happened. They still had the situation with Diego to negotiate and she couldn’t afford to let something as meaningless as sex get in the way of that.

You made a terrible, terrible mistake.

Alice turned over yet again. Yes, so she had made a mistake, but it needn’t be catastrophic. If they pretended it hadn’t happened, they could move on. They didn’t have to let it get in the way of what they needed to do with Diego. It would be fine. In fact, it might even have been a good thing. Perhaps without the sexual tension in the air between them, their negotiations with Diego would go more smoothly.

It was a comforting thought, and yet still she didn’t sleep.

Eventually, when the first light of dawn showed around the edges of the curtains, she hauled herself out of bed, gritty-eyed from lack of sleep. She grabbed a white robe from the bathroom and put it on, then went out into the kitchen in search of coffee. Only to find Sebastián already up and leaning against one of the kitchen counters, sipping an espresso.

And it wasn’t until that moment that she realised it was going to be impossible to pretend the night before hadn’t happened, that all the blazing sexual tension that had always been between them didn’t exist. Because it did.

In fact, it seemed to have only increased, because seeing him standing there, dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a loose white shirt, his black hair damp from a recent shower, the shirt open at the neck to reveal the smooth brown skin of his throat... God. He was still just as gorgeous as he’d been the night before.

Now, though, it was even worse. Because now she knew what his mouth tasted like, and how hot his skin felt under her hands. That his eyes glowed bright when he was aroused and when he pushed inside her, it had felt as if he’d been made for her alone.

She didn’t know what to do or what to say. The breath had been completely ripped out of her.

Sebastián didn’t move as she met his gaze and her mouth dried, her heart once more galloping around in her chest the way it always did when he was near.

‘Good,’ he said. ‘You’re up. We need to talk.’

A little shock went through her, though she tried not to show it, resisting the urge to adjust her robe in a nervous movement. ‘About Diego, I assume?’ she asked with what she hoped was her normal cool.

‘About Diego, yes.’ He turned, put his cup down on the counter, then went over to one of the cupboards and took out another. ‘Among other things.’

Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. ‘What other things?’

Sebastián went to the stove and picked up the stove-top coffee maker, pouring some of the thick black liquid into the cup he was holding. Then he glanced at her, the look in the smoky gold of his eyes utterly unreadable. ‘Milk?’

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