Page 27 of The Spaniard's Wedding Revenge

The sound of her heart hammered in her ears. She stared blindly across the room, every sense she possessed concentrated on the man standing beside her, holding her.

Was that another warning? And if it was, why was he still holding her? If he really wanted her to leave he only needed to open his hand and she’d be free.

Yet he hadn’t.

She tried to process what that meant, but it was difficult when his thumb was pressing against the sensitive flesh of her under-arm, caressing lightly.

You could pull away. You don’t have to stand here.

That was true. She didn’t need to stand there being reminded of how empty and cold her life was, of all the good things she was missing out on. She didn’t need to be reminded of how unwanted and unneeded she was.

Anyway, she had a warm bed, and food, and a job. Wanting more than that was just being greedy. She should be happy with what she had.

‘All this talk of scaring me and being bad—yet you’re not doing anything but hold on to me.’ She kept her gaze resolutely ahead. ‘I know you don’t really want me. So why don’t you just be done with it and let me go?’

There was a moment of silence and then she was being tugged around to face him, his glittering green gaze clashing with hers.

‘What on earth makes you think I don’t want you?’ he demanded.

‘Why would you?’ She lifted her chin, prepared for the truth, ignoring the hurt lodged deep inside her. ‘I’m just some poor homeless woman you picked up from the streets. No one else has ever wanted me so why should you?’

The hot flame in his eyes leapt, an emotion she couldn’t name flickering over his handsome face.‘Gatita...’

He looked as if he might say something more, but he didn’t. Instead he jerked her suddenly towards him.

Not expecting it, she flung up her hands, her palms connecting with the heat and hardness of his broad chest. His fingers had curled around both her upper arms now, keeping her prisoner, and he’d bent his head, so his green eyes were all she could see.

‘You are very foolish indeed if you think that,’ he said, in a soft, dangerous voice.

Then, before she could say anything more, his mouth covered hers.

She froze in shock. She’d never been kissed before—had never wanted to be. Although sometimes, when the nights were very dark and she was especially cold, she’d remember that man and woman in the alleyway. Remember how the woman had cried out and how the man had kissed her, silencing her. And she’d wonder what it would feel like to have someone’s mouth touching hers. Kissing her...

Now she knew. And it became very clear why that woman had clutched at the man kissing her.

The duke’s lips were warm, so much softer than she’d expected a man’s lips to be, and the subtle pressure and implicit demand were making a river of unfamiliar heat course the length of her spine.

She trembled, curling her fingers into the warm cotton of his shirt, her own mouth opening beneath his almost automatically. And he took advantage, his tongue pushing inside, tasting her, coaxing her, beginning to explore her.

A low, helpless moan escaped her. The delicious flavour of him was filling her senses and making her want more. She clutched at his shirt tighter, pressing herself closer. The heat of his kiss was melting all the frozen places inside her. All the lonely places. Lighting up all the dark corners of her soul.

Her awareness narrowed on the heat of his mouth, the slow exploration of his tongue, the dark, rich flavour that was all him and the iron-hard body she was pressed against.

It was overwhelming.

It was not enough.

It was everything she’d missed out on, all the good things she’d never had, and now she’d had a taste she wanted more.

She wanted them all.

‘Cristiano...’ she murmured against his mouth. And the name he’d given her, that she’d only used once before now, came out of her as easily as breathing. ‘Please...’

CHAPTER SIX

HESHOULDN’THAVEkissed her. Yet now her mouth was open beneath his, the sweet taste of her was on his tongue and the slender heat of her body was pressed against him, he couldn’t stop.

She was right in thinking he’d been trying to scare her. And he’d expected it to be easy—that a blatantly sexual touch would have her jerking away from him and leaving the room.

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