by Anne Mather
Dominic’s body felt as if it was on fire. As he pressed his face against her softness, his lungs quickly filled with her exotic scent. She was satin and silk, the rarest of spices, and oh, so responsive. His hands gripped the backs of her thighs. He wanted to rip the scrap of lace away.
It barely did the job anyway, he acknowledged. Dark curls spilled out at either side, and he wondered if those hidden lips were moist. He guessed they were, slick with the arousal rising to his nostrils. His hands moved to cup her rounded bottom. Just touching her like this was both a heaven and a hell.
He wanted to touch her everywhere, he wanted to touch her and taste her, and spread those gorgeous legs so he could—
Sanity struck him like a peen hammer. They were here—on a private beach, it was true—but one of his grandfather’s groundsmen raked the sand every morning. How would Cleo feel if someone saw them? While he might not have any inhibitions, Dominic was fairly sure Cleo would.
Abandoning the erotic image of laying her down on the warm sand and relieving the hard-on he’d had since he’d first seen her on the beach, Dominic got reluctantly to his feet.
Dammit, he thought, he’d been semi-aroused since their confrontation the night before. If you could call what had happened between them a confrontation. Whatever, he’d wanted her then and he wanted her now.
God help him!
Even so, he couldn’t deny himself the pleasure of lifting one of her pouting breasts to his mouth and suckling briefly on its puckered tip. She tasted so good; so irresistible. How could he let her go?
Desire sparked anew, and he opened his lips wide and allowed her nipple to brush the roof of his mouth. It was all unbearably sensual, this carnal need he had to make her want him as much as he wanted her. His hands followed the sensitive hollow of her spine, arching her against him, letting her feel what she was doing to him.
The unmistakable roar of the tractor arrested him before he could drag his sodden vest over his head and gather her against him. He’d wanted to feel those button-hard nipples against his bare chest, but it was too late.
‘For pity’s sake, let me go!’
Dominic didn’t know whether Cleo’s frantic words sourced a belated resistance on her part or a sudden awareness of the tractor’s approach. But they were a shocking reminder of what he was doing; or what he’d done.
With a feeling of remorse, he stumbled back from her. But when he would have bent to pick up her dress, she beat him to it, wrenching it away from his grasp.
Giving it only the most perfunctory of shakes, she stepped into it, hauling the straps up over her shoulders and recoiling from the damp clamminess of the skirt.
Cleo had heard the engine, but she was wondering who could be driving along the sand at this hour of the morning. Whoever it was, she should be grateful, she thought, avoiding Dominic’s eyes with an urgency that bordered on paranoia.
Dear heaven, what had she been thinking of? How had she allowed such a thing to happen? After everything she’d said. How could she have been so stupid?
The dress was gritty as well as wet, its abrasive folds like sandpaper against her sensitive skin. How on earth was she going to get into the house unnoticed? She could imagine how she would feel if anyone—her mind switched instinctively to Lily—saw her.
‘Cleo, dammit—’
Dominic put out a hand as she snatched up her sandals and started away from him. But she easily evaded his touch.
‘Go home, Dominic,’ she said, her voice as unsteady as her legs. But she couldn’t blame him entirely. ‘This—this never happened.’
‘We both know it did,’ said Dominic harshly as the tractor rolled into view. He swore then. ‘Look, why don’t you let me take you back to my house? We can dry your dress—’
‘Yeah, right.’ Cleo regarded him incredulously. ‘Do you honestly think I’d go anywhere with you?’
Then, her eyes widening at the sight of the heavy vehicle, she backed away from him. Stumbling a little, she turned and hurried away towards the house.
Dominic swore again. Raking frustrated hands through his hair, he watched her disappear through the trellis gate that led into his grandfather’s garden.
He hoped to God that she didn’t encounter his mother. Lily Montoya was already suspicious of the girl and she wouldn’t mince her words. If she discovered Cleo in that state and then learned that Dominic had been on the beach with her, she’d certainly demand an explanation.
One that he didn’t have to give, admitted Dominic grimly. He had the feeling that his whole day was only going to go from bad to freaking worse.
Chapter Nine
‘WHAT the hell did you think you were doing with my granddaughter?’
It was later that morning.
Dominic didn’t know if Cleo had made it into the house without encountering either Serena or his mother. But, evidently, nothing escaped the eagle eye of his grandfather.
Dominic himself was hardly in the mood for an argument. He’d returned to his own house to shower and change before heading for the Montoya Corporation’s headquarters in San Clemente.
Then, striding into his own suite of offices, he’d informed his staff that he wasn’t to be disturbed.
Not that that counted for anything when Jacob Montoya demanded to see him. He’d heard the old man giving his assistant hell even through the door of the outer office. By the time Jacob appeared, Dominic was on his feet and ready to defend himself. He thought it was typical that the old man should have chosen today to make one of his infrequent forays into town.
Dominic’s PA, Hannah Gerard, a pleasant-faced woman of middle years, hovered anxiously behind the visitor.
‘May I get you some coffee, Mr Montoya?’ she asked, including both men in her enquiry.
However, it was Jacob who waved his stick somewhat irritably and said, ‘Not now, woman. I want to talk to my grandson. We’ll let you know if we want anything. Now, scoot!’
Hannah’s face flushed with embarrassment and Dominic moved swiftly round the desk to take the woman’s arm. ‘That’s OK, Hannah,’ he said gently, urging her towards the door. ‘As Mr Montoya says, we’re good. I’ll let you know if we need anything, right?’
‘Yes, sir.’
Hannah was obviously relieved to return to her own office, and Dominic closed the door and leant back against it for a moment, viewing his visitor with curious eyes.
Jacob wasn’t usually so brusque with his employees. Dominic’s nerves tightened at the scowling expression on his grandfather’s face.
‘Is something wrong?’
‘You tell me.’
Jacob shifted to lower himself into the armchair opposite Dominic’s desk. He hooked his walking stick over the arm and then delivered his bombshell.
‘What the hell did you think you were doing with my granddaughter?’
Dominic sucked in a breath and then blew it out again on a long sigh.
There was no point in denying that he’d been with Cleo. Somehow—God knew how!—Jacob knew. Or thought he did.
He exchanged a look with the old man, wondering if someone had seen them and reported to him. What had they seen? Everything? His lower body heated at the memory. Or was Jacob just fishing because he’d found out Cleo had been soaked to the skin?
Now he pushed himself away from the door and circled his desk. Then, spreading his hands on its granite surface, he said evenly. ‘What did you think I was doing?’
‘Don’t get clever with me, Dom. I know what you were doing. I saw you.’ Jacob’s lips curled triumphantly. ‘You forget, I get up early in the mornings and my balcony overlooks the beach.’
Dominic stifled an inward groan.
He remembered all too clearly what they—what he—had been doing. Even from a distance it would have been impossible not to see that he had kissed her. And almost stripped her naked, kneeling on the sand, pressing his face into her—
‘You damn near had sex with her!’ exclaimed his grandfather angrily. ‘D
idn’t you care that people might see you? Your mother, perhaps?’
Dominic shrugged and, pushing back from the desk, sank down into his own chair. ‘I didn’t think,’ he said honestly. ‘It was a mistake.’ He paused. ‘It won’t happen again.’
‘Damn right!’ Jacob scowled at him with piercing blue eyes. ‘I thought you had more sense. Can’t you see the girl’s fragile; vulnerable?’
Dominic’s eyes darkened. ‘You’ve made your point, old man. You don’t have to labour it. I made a mistake and I’m sorry, OK? I’m not about to ruin her life.’
‘The way your father ruined her mother’s?’ suggested Jacob maliciously. ‘No, I won’t let you do that.’
Dominic groaned. ‘Look, is there any point to this? I’ve said I’m sorry and I am.’
His jaw tightened. Sorry his grandfather had had to be involved, anyway.
Jacob hesitated, his manner softening. ‘But you like the girl, don’t you? Silly question, of course you do. All that dark silky hair and smooth almond flesh. Kind of gets under your skin, doesn’t she?’
Dominic’s jaw dropped. ‘Are you saying—?’
‘That she gets under my skin?’ Jacob swore impatiently. ‘Get over yourself, boy. I’m not talking personally.’ His scowl returned. ‘I’m only saying I can see how a young buck like yourself might be smitten. She’s certainly got more about her than the girls you usually bring to Magnolia Hill.’
Dominic stared at him in disbelief. ‘A few minutes ago you were reminding me of my responsibilities.’
‘I know, I know.’ Jacob moved his stick agitatedly. ‘But maybe I was too rash. Maybe you and Cleo should get together. My grandson and my granddaughter. Yes, that is a very appealing image.’
‘No!’
Dominic spoke heatedly, and his grandfather regarded him with calculating eyes.
‘You haven’t heard what I have to say yet,’ he said harshly. ‘Don’t go second-guessing me before I tell you what I have in mind.’
‘I don’t care what you have in mind,’ retorted Dominic grimly. ‘I was out of line this morning. I admit it. But if you think you can manipulate me as you manipulated Serena, you’ve got another think coming. And if you don’t like it, well—tough.’
His grandfather didn’t react as he’d expected however. Instead of arguing with him, a mocking smile tipped up the old man’s mouth.
‘OK, OK,’ he said. ‘If that’s the way you feel, I’ll say no more about it.’ He reached across the desk and pressed the button for the intercom. ‘Let’s have that coffee, shall we? You look as if you need something to kick you into shape.’
Dominic dragged weary hands down his face, feeling the scrape of stubble he’d been too preoccupied to shave. He didn’t feel as if he’d won the argument. He felt agitated and frustrated in equal measures.
When Hannah knocked timidly at the door, Jacob summoned her in. And then ordered coffee for two with the kind of charming diffidence that left the woman wondering if she’d only imagined his anger earlier.
‘So,’ he said, when she’d departed again, ‘what are you planning on doing for the rest of the day? I had thought of bringing Cleo into town, showing her around, giving her a taste of what she’s been missing all these years. What do you think?’
Dominic gnawed at his lower lip. ‘What do you mean? Showing her around? You don’t intend to bring her here, do you?’
‘Why not?’ The old man was irritatingly bland. ‘You have no objections, do you?’
‘No.’ But Dominic’s nerves tightened at the thought of seeing Cleo again. ‘I—just don’t think she’ll want to do that, that’s all.’
‘Why?’ Jacob was suspicious. ‘What has she said to you?’
‘Nothing.’ Dominic blew out a resigned breath. ‘Hell, old man, she doesn’t talk to me.’
‘No, I noticed that,’ remarked his grandfather sharply, and Dominic ran damp palms over the arms of his chair. ‘But I want you to know, I’m hoping to persuade Cleo to make her home on San Clemente. And I don’t want you doing anything to queer my pitch.’
Dominic shook his head. ‘You’ll probably do that yourself,’ he muttered, and the old man gave him an angry look.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘Oh—’ Dominic wished he’d never started this ‘—I just don’t think she’s happy here.’
‘She didn’t enjoy the party?’ Jacob could be disconcertingly astute. ‘I noticed she was still wearing the dress she wore last night when I saw you two this morning. Did someone upset her? Did you upset her?’
Then he snorted. ‘No, don’t answer that. Of course you upset her. Trying to seduce her. My God, don’t you have any respect for her at all?’
‘Of course I do.’ Dominic spoke fiercely, refusing to admit that his behaviour might have had any bearing on the way Cleo was feeling. He groaned. ‘Look, you can’t expect everyone you know to like her, just because you say so, old man.’
‘So someone did say something to upset her last night. After I’d gone to bed, I’ll wager.’ He scowled. ‘Go on. You might as well tell me what it was.’
Dominic sighed. ‘Maybe,’ he said reluctantly, ‘maybe—people asked questions. They were curious about her. You can’t blame them for that.’
‘Can’t I?’
The return of Hannah with the tray of refreshments provided a welcome break in the conversation.
Dominic thanked her and assured her he could handle it, and after she’d gone he poured them both a cup of the strong beverage.
Then, sinking down into his chair again, he allowed himself a moment’s respite. But he knew his grandfather too well to imagine that the old man would leave it there.
‘They blame her, don’t they?’ Jacob said, making no attempt to drink his coffee. ‘Those idiots blame her for what her parents did.’ He thumped his cane on the floor. ‘Dammit, Dom, it’s unreasonable. It wasn’t her fault.’
‘I know.’ Dominic replaced his cup in its saucer. ‘And, in time, people will begin to see her for the—the attractive young woman she is.’
‘As you do?’ Jacob was sardonic. ‘Or are you like them, Dom? Was the way you treated Cleo this morning an example of how you really feel about her?’
Cleo was standing beside the pool looking down into the blue water, when her grandfather came to join her.
It was the morning after that disastrous encounter with Dominic on the beach, and she was relieved she hadn’t seen him since.
The previous day, she’d had only Serena and Lily for company. Dominic had evidently left before breakfast, and when she’d ventured downstairs again it was to find she had the morning room to herself.
Not that she’d been hungry. Some orange juice, a cup of coffee and a fresh nectarine satisfied her, and she was grateful not to have to explain herself to anyone else.
Lunch had been a different affair.
Both Serena and Lily had joined her at the table, Serena taking the time to inform her that her grandfather had gone into town.
‘He’s gone to the office to see Dominic,’ she’d said tersely, in answer to her sister-in-law’s query. ‘But he should be resting, Lily, not risking his health over something he can do nothing about.’
Or someone, Cleo had reflected uneasily, when Lily cast a speculative glance her way. But she didn’t see how she could be held responsible for her grandfather’s behaviour. She hadn’t even spoken to him since last night.
‘Jacob always was a stubborn man,’ Lily had declared carelessly. ‘But Dominic won’t let him do anything silly. Whatever ideas may have been put into his head.’
Cleo had caught her breath at this.
‘I hope you’re not implying that I had anything to do with Jacob’s going into town!’ she’d exclaimed defensively. And even Serena had been taken aback by the fierceness of her tone.
‘Why, no.’
For once, Lily had seemed at a loss for words, and Cleo pressed on.
‘But you were implying that I might have
had some ulterior motive for coming here, weren’t you? Do you think I want Jacob’s money, Mrs Montoya? Do you honestly believe that any amount of money could compensate me for everything I’ve lost?’
Lily had swallowed a little nervously. ‘That’s easy to say, Ms Novak—’
‘No, it’s not easy to say, Mrs Montoya.’
Cleo had had enough of being the silent victim, and although she’d been fighting back tears, she’d had to speak out.
‘I was happy in England, believe it or not. Six months ago, I hadn’t a care in the world.’
Well, that hadn’t been precisely true. But everyone had problems, even a wealthy woman like Lily, who must have been as devastated by her husband’s betrayal as Cleo herself.
‘I—I had a good home,’ she’d continued, a little huskily. ‘A loving family; a job I like.’ She paused. ‘When my parents—the only parents I’d ever known—were killed, I was shattered. I didn’t think anything worse could happen to me. And then— and then Serena turned up and told me that my whole life up until that point had been a lie.’
‘I’m sure Lily didn’t mean to offend you, Cleo,’ Serena had broken in anxiously, evidently aware of the bigger picture here. She’d known Jacob wouldn’t be at all pleased if he thought the other women in his household had been upsetting his granddaughter.
‘Is that true?’
Cleo had held Dominic’s mother’s gaze, her own eyes dark and sparkling with unshed tears. And, with a little shrug, Lily had given a little ground.
‘Perhaps I have been a little hasty in judging you, Ms Novak,’ she’d conceded, tracing the rim of her plate with a purple-tipped nail. Her shoulders lifted again. ‘We shall see.’
Her reluctance to admit anything had been apparent, but to avoid any further unpleasantness, Cleo had let it go. Besides, how could she sustain her animosity towards a woman who had been as innocent a victim as herself?
In any case, Serena had smoothed the waters with a comment about the lobster pâté she’d been spreading on waferthin biscuits. Dominic’s mother had seemed equally eager to change the subject and that was that.
