Page 25 of Spanish Marriage Solution

He’d given her everything she asked for, attention, physical pleasure, a house in Paris... Yet it still hadn’t been enough.

You’d given your heart to Alice. You can’t deny it.

No, this wasn’t about his heart. His heart couldn’t be trusted and he wouldn’t listen to it, not again.

‘It wasn’t mere attraction,’ he said, because attraction was too tame a word for the physical hunger he felt for her. ‘It was almost obsession, Alice. And you know it. You felt it too. Or was there some other reason that you never let yourself be alone in the same room with me?’ The red in her cheeks deepened, her eyes getting darker, and he stared at her, searching her face. ‘Or were you afraid of me? Perhaps it was that? Did you think I would do something to you that you wouldn’t want?’

‘No,’ she said quickly. ‘No, of course not.’

He knew that wasn’t it already. She’d never been afraid of him, only of the electricity between them, but he wanted her to say it. ‘I couldn’t get close to you, Alice. You must have known that. And I think you couldn’t get close to me for the same reasons.’

She glanced away. The pulse at the base of her throat raced and he was close enough to feel her warmth. She smelled of lavender and sex and, though he wasn’t even touching her, he was hard. But he’d already decided one thing: the next move was hers. He’d crossed the line the night before and she’d welcomed him. But now he needed it to be her turn. If this was to work, she had to show that she wanted him every bit as badly as he wanted her.

‘I didn’t... I never...’ She stopped, her fingers fussing with the tie of her robe. Then she looked back at him, her gaze fierce. ‘I was faithful to Edward. I always have been.’

‘I wasn’t implying otherwise. And I have always been faithful to Emily. But you changed everything. You must have known that.’ He saw the admission in her eyes. It had changed for her too. ‘Say it, Alice. I want you to say it. Out loud so I can hear it.’

He took a step even closer, so there were only inches between them. She wasn’t as petite as Emily and he didn’t have to look down as far. She didn’t give off that air of fragility either, the delicacy that Emily had that he’d been so afraid of breaking. He could feel himself get even harder. Sometimes Emily had found his physical passion too much and, certainly in the last year, she’d kept putting him off. Kept telling him she had a headache, that she wasn’t ‘feeling it’, that she was too tired.

But last night Alice had put her hands on him, and she’d been so hungry. He’d almost forgotten what it was like to have a woman desperate for him and he wanted more. He needed it. He wanted a woman whose passion matched his own and the night before Alice had certainly done that. Her body had been all luscious curves and soft skin. A feast he could spend days devouring.

She stared at him for a long moment, and he could see fear in her eyes. She was afraid of admitting what she felt, afraid of admitting what she wanted.

Well, he wasn’t going to help her. She either wanted him, wanted this, or she didn’t. There was no middle ground. And he wasn’t going to force her into an admission. She had to choose it for herself.

‘Edward’s dead,’ she said. ‘It’s been two months, Sebastián. Just two months.’

‘Oh, I understand, believe me. I know all too well how many months it’s been. But if you hadn’t felt as I did, you wouldn’t have reached for me last night the way you did. You wouldn’t have kissed me back, and you certainly wouldn’t have spread your legs for me so desperately.’

Her jaw hardened, anger leaping in her eyes. ‘I would never have—’

‘They’re both dead, Alice,’ he interrupted. ‘You don’t have to pretend any more.’

Her mouth opened then shut and she swallowed. Took a breath.

Then, before he could move, she reached for him.

CHAPTER SEVEN

HE WAS RIGHT. Even now, despite last night, she was still pretending.

Pretending she didn’t want him with every breath in her. Pretending she wasn’t desperate to touch him, to taste him. Pretending his physical presence didn’t spin her world entirely on its axis.

Pretending had become such a deeply ingrained habit, though, that it was difficult to break. Difficult even to say the words out loud.

You’re not alone, though. He always wanted you too.

All this time. From the moment he first saw her. It seemed impossible. He’d been so cold, so distant, and she’d thought the electricity in the air that always seemed to hover around them was only on her side. There had been times where it had felt as if he might feel the same way, that last Christmas Eve they’d all had, for example. But he’d never said anything. Never given her any reason to think that he even liked her, let alone wanted her.

But he had. And last night he’d proved it.

Now, in the kitchen, he was so close, his body hot, and the scent of him irresistible, and she had no idea what to do with his marriage proposal, no idea at all. It was so complicated. The prospect scared her, filled her with guilt and yet at the same time there was also a traitorous joy, as if being his wife was all she’d ever wanted to be.

It seemed easier to reach for him, touch him. Kiss him. Because the only thing that made any sense was the need inside her. That, at least, was simple.

Yet when she lifted her hands to him, his fingers closed around her wrists, holding her at bay, his golden eyes blazing.

‘No, Alice,’ he said softly. ‘Give me the words. I want to hear you say them. You won’t get anything until you do.’

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