Still in Love

by Delaney Diamond

  A mere look from her ex and she melted, but that didn’t happen with Clark. Unfortunately, the man bored her to tears. On the excitement barometer, it was like going from a superstar concert to a middle school talent show. After a few dates, they realized they were better off as friends.

  “There’s nothing going on between us. Not that I care what you think.” She set her water on the counter and stalked toward the door, seeking escape, but his next words halted her in her tracks.

  “You’d better care what I think,” he said, voice low and lethal. “You will not bring another man into the house that I pay for.”

  Nadine rounded on him. “You think because you pay for that house you own everything inside it?” Her eyes narrowed on him. “How did you even know about Clark? Are you grilling our daughter to get information about me and my personal affairs?”

  A faint blush darkened his cheeks.

  “That’s despicable,” she said.

  His face tightened in anger. “What’s despicable is having that man around our daughter.”

  “I have a right to date. We’re no longer married.” She held up her left hand so he could see her bare fingers.

  Wrong thing to do. Seething anger entered his eyes, but still he maintained his cool—a trait that used to make steam blow from her ears when they were married. She wanted to see some emotion from him, to know what he was feeling.

  “You’d better go to bed now,” he said in a calm voice.

  “Why?” she demanded. “Because you don’t want to talk? That’s so familiar. You always did an excellent job of avoiding conversation when we were married, traveling around, using your tour schedule as an excuse to stay away when you didn’t want to deal with…the problems in our marriage.”

  She shut down as pain erupted inside of her, the kind that had kept her bedridden from depression, closed off from everyone around her until she found the strength to go on.

  “I didn’t need an excuse to stay away. My wife made it very clear I was not welcome in my own house.” He tilted his head sideways. “Although…you never failed to welcome me in other ways.”

  A flash of heat swept Nadine’s skin.

  They’d never had any problems communicating in the bedroom, driven by a sexual compulsion that surmounted their marital problems, though it couldn’t make them disappear. After weeks on the road, the impatience with which he’d reach for her never failed to thrill her. So many times he’d tugged on her clothes, on more than one occasion tearing them from her body like a man possessed.

  Every single time she’d matched his hunger, and her neck burned at the thought of him pushing her down into the bed, grabbing her thighs, pushing into her with the same focus, the same concentration he reserved for the craft of music.

  “Does he know?” Cortez asked.

  “Know what?” Nadine swallowed hard. She had to get out of there. She couldn’t think straight.

  “Does your boyfriend have any idea how insatiable you are?”

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Does he know how demanding you are? That when we were married, you required two, sometimes three orgasms in one night? That sometimes you wanted my tongue, and other times all you wanted was my rock hard c—”

  Nadine swung at him, but he caught her wrist. His fingers tightened around her arm and she winced.

  “That’s not very nice. You should never resort to violence.” He hauled her forward and she lost her balance, tumbling into his chest. She put out a hand to brace herself and the springy hairs tickled her palm.

  “All right, you’ve proved your point,” Nadine said in a tremulous whisper.

  “No.” His gray-blue eyes scoured her face. He examined her features as though branding her image into his brain. Below his waist, she could feel his body stir to life. “I haven’t proven my point yet.”

  Then he crushed her mouth beneath his.

  Chapter 5

  They’d been edging toward this explosive kiss from the minute they started arguing—maybe even from the moment they saw each other at the airport.

  Cortez’s tongue pressed against the seam of her mouth, and with embarrassing ease, Nadine’s lips fell apart to allow the moist invasion. He swept the interior with such boldness, such authority, that a tremor rattled through her body. The kiss consumed and took over all her senses. Explosive. Powerful. Like a pyrotechnic display with no holds barred.

  Cortez cradled the back of her head in his large hand and sifted his fingers through her short hair, keeping her locked against him. Her scalp tingled at his touch, and her heart careened against her ribs in excitement. It had been so long since she’d felt his hands on her and his mouth on hers. She strained to get closer, eagerly sucking and gorging on the sweetness of his flavor.

  His hand climbed up her side beneath her shirt and her breasts drew tight and throbbed, demanding to be touched. When he finally covered one with his warm hand, she released a low, heavy moan of immense relief and tipped her head back. His mouth immediately fastened on her neck, tongue tracing the arch of her throat while his hand squeezed her breast and she trembled, overwhelmed by sensation as her nipple swelled against his cupping hand.

  She noted that the texture of his hand had softened. Rough calluses, from years of playing music, were gone from the tips of his broad fingers. His other hand pushed beneath the hem of her loose shorts and grabbed one butt cheek. Deep in a sensual haze, Nadine arched her hips, grinding against the thick arousal tenting his pants to relieve the swelling ache between her thighs. It was as if they’d leaped back in time—pawing, grabbing, kissing on each other with unchecked enthusiasm.

  Suddenly, Cortez lifted his head and looked down at Nadine with half-closed eyes that glittered with need, his heavy breathing ragged and unstable. “Now I’ve proven my point,” he rasped.

  His warm breath brushed against her lips, and the thumb stroking along the crease of her hip wreaked havoc with her nerves. With an abrupt shake of the head, he released her, staring at her in wide-eyed disbelief, obviously shaken by the powerful attraction that still existed between them.

  Nadine staggered back and grabbed onto the butcher-block island at her back for balance. She needed to put distance between them, but for the moment couldn’t move—could barely even think. Her brain had shut down.

  She didn’t know what had made him stop, but she was glad one of them had done so. If it had been up to her, they’d be horizontal on the kitchen floor in a few minutes. Something they’d done before. In fact, they’d christened almost every nook of the house, and she was hard-pressed to find a room in which he hadn’t made her come.

  When he touched her like that, she could almost forget why they’d divorced. Strangers, virtual enemies in the end, they used to square off like boxers, retreating to their own corners after they’d lobbed verbal blows at each other that bruised egos and hurt feelings.

  The loudest noise in the room was the trembling inhalation of her breaths. She couldn’t control the sound, a glaring manifestation of how undone she’d become by a simple kiss. Yet nothing was simple with Cortez. She couldn’t believe that after three years she still reacted so strongly to him.

  “You had no right to do that.” Her voice was unsteady. She took a deep breath. “Tomorrow I’m getting a hotel.”

  “You will not stay in a hotel,” Cortez said between gritted teeth.

  “Well, I can’t stay here if you’re going to maul me,” Nadine shot back, completely ignoring her own role in their heated kiss. She held a hand to her lips to hide their trembling.

  “You’re an Alesini,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  “In name only. You’re not responsible for me.”

  “You’re the mother of my child! I will always be responsible for you, and you will not stay in a hotel like a stranger.” The vehemence in his voice took her by surprise. She didn’t know what upset him more. The denial of his name or the desire to find lodging elsewhere.

  “Of course Anton
ella would rather have you here,” he added in a calmer voice. “Stay. I…won’t touch you again.” He clenched his hands into fists.

  Nadine swallowed. “How do I know I can trust you?”

  “Don’t raise your hand to me and you have nothing to worry about,” Cortez said in a raw tone.

  She angled her chin upward but watched him warily, doubting him.

  “You have my word. I promise to keep my hands to myself. I had a momentary lapse in judgment and it won’t happen again.”

  “If you touch me again, I’m leaving,” Nadine warned.

  Tension hummed in the room as they stared at each other. She waited for his response, but when there was none forthcoming, she found the strength to leave. Hurrying from the room, she raced up the stairs on unsteady legs, managing on adrenaline alone. When she shut the door to the bedroom, she couldn’t make it to the bed. It might as well have been a thousand miles away.

  She was shaking so badly, she slid to the floor. He’d branded her in multiple ways. She touched her fingers to her lips. They burned from the heat of his kiss, and the taste of him remained on her tongue. Even his scent—masculine, robust—had been absorbed into her skin.

  In no time at all, Cortez had made her feel jittery and out of control. As if their years apart had never been, and no time had passed at all.

  She still had seven days to go.

  Raking a hand through his hair, a line of bitter curses flew from Cortez’s lips.

  He waited until he thought Nadine was back in her bedroom before he risked taking the stairs. His body tightened as he passed her bedroom door, and he almost pushed his way in to relieve the lust raging through his body.

  He was forty-three years old, but she had him as discombobulated as a man with far less maturity. The thick pounding of blood in his veins had shot south within moments, turning his flesh hard and unyielding, hungry for a chance to bury deep inside of her. He knew he should exercise some measure of self-control, but Nadine made him feel out of control. Always had. She elicited emotional responses from him that no one else could. He’d written songs about life, the birth of their daughter, and his family, but it was Nadine who had inspired his best work.

  She’d been there less than twenty-four hours—less than twelve hours—and he hadn’t been able to resist touching her. If he couldn’t go twelve hours, how the hell was he going to make it through the next week?

  Cortez banked the corner and pushed open the double doors of the master bedroom suite. In the silent room, he lay on his back and placed a hand over his groin and his hefty erection. He massaged his stiff flesh through the silk pants, but it wasn’t enough. He grimaced as sexual hunger continued to run rampant through him.

  Closing his eyes, he slipped a hand beneath the waistband and stroked his hard erection. Then he let his imagination run wild with everything he wanted to do to his wife.

  Ex-wife.

  Chapter 6

  Nadine woke up to pallid light streaming through the sheer curtains and the muffled sounds of mowers cutting the grass outside. She stretched, feeling somewhat rested. At some point her mind had settled enough to fall asleep, but not before she’d tortured herself with thoughts of Cortez and wondered if she had, indeed, made a mistake by agreeing to stay in the house with him.

  At a short rap on the door, she twisted her head and Antonella traipsed into the room wearing a pair of capris and a T-shirt. Her loose hair tumbled down the middle of her back, and her bright, happy face made Nadine smile.

  Antonella hopped onto the bed with a lot of energy, looking like she’d been up for hours, which was probably the case. Like her father, she didn’t need much sleep. As long as Cortez could catch a refreshing nap every now and again, he could go for long periods without extended rest.

  “What are we doing today?” her daughter asked.

  Nadine twirled a lock of Antonella’s hair around her finger and yawned. “I need breakfast first, but just because I’m here, don’t think you can’t do what you normally do when you come to see your dad. You don’t have to keep me company.”

  She tweaked Antonella’s nose and then rolled out of bed. She went into the en suite bathroom, a sleekly designed space in timeless black and white. Her fingers briefly touched the pewter-framed mirror, a piece she and the decorator had both seen at the same time and simultaneously cried, “That one!”

  She smiled a little to herself. That day was a long time ago.

  “I might watch a movie in the theater. Or go down the street to one of my friends—Kara’s house. I don’t think she knows I’m back yet.” Katarina was the daughter of a couple who owned a chain of clothing stores.

  “If you go down the street, let Joachim walk with you. Or I’ll take you.” Nadine peeked out the door at Antonella, who was plucking at the sheet. “Understand?”

  Her daughter’s head popped up. “Yes.”

  “You don’t walk around here by yourself, do you?” One couldn’t be too careful, even in a neighborhood like this.

  “No,” Antonella said in a small voice, lowering her eyes, which made Nadine suspect it was an untruth. She’d address that issue with Cortez later.

  “Did you eat breakfast?” She started brushing her teeth.

  “Yep.” Antonella came to stand in the doorway, a mischievous look on her face. “Since you were so late, Papá and I ate all the medialunas. Nothing’s left. Not a single crumb.” She licked her lips for good measure.

  Medialunas were small, crescent-shaped pastries that looked like miniature croissants, but had a sweeter taste. They were part of a typical Argentine breakfast, and Nadine loved to sweeten hers even more by cutting open the flaky bread and swiping on a healthy serving of dulce de leche. She’d learned that from Cortez, who had a sweet tooth like she did, and something their daughter had inherited from both of them.

  Nadine finished up at the sink. “Nah-uh. You better not have.”

  “Uh-huh. And I’m not sorry.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Nadine darted after her daughter, and Antonella took off running with a loud screech. When Nadine caught her, she tackled her onto the bed and tickled her mercilessly.

  “This is your punishment for being so mean to your mother.”

  Antonella squealed and laughed, wriggling and twisting to get away from Nadine’s poking fingers.

  “Are you sorry?” Nadine asked, continuing to dig and prod while holding her so she couldn’t escape.

  “Yes. I’m…sorry,” Antonella choked out. “We…didn’t eat them…all.”

  “That’s what I thought. You know better.” Nadine released Antonella, and her daughter brushed away her thick hair, which had tumbled into her face during their playful tussle.

  Nadine looked down into her daughter’s dark eyes, her heart hurting a little as it filled with emotion. Her baby, her one and only. “You know I love you,” she said softly.

  Antonella nodded, her face grave. “More than life itself.”

  She’d told her that a thousand times. Squeezing her daughter tight, she pressed a long, loud kiss to her cheek. If anything happened to her…She cast aside the devastating thought, one that was too unbearable in its familiarity.

  She retrieved her suitcase and dropped it onto the bed. “I guess I better get dressed and have some breakfast. Your tío Gustavo and his family will be here soon.”

  “I can’t wait to see Gabriela,” Antonella said, her eyes lighting up.

  Gabriela was Gustavo’s daughter, only a year older than Antonella, and her favorite cousin. Gustavo had six children in all, five boys and Gabriela. When they arrived, the house would be alive with activity.

  Nadine changed and had breakfast on the back terrace overlooking the lake. On the opposite side, a father and son fed the ducks, who squawked loudly as they chased after the morsels of bread. This side featured a dock where a small row boat was moored, and a shallow beach where they used to sit and roast marshmallows or relax under the stars with blankets and a small fire, a tradition
she knew Cortez continued when Antonella came to visit.

  She hadn’t seen Cortez this morning yet, and that was a good thing. It gave her a chance to put on her mask and secure her defenses in place.

  According to her daughter, he went to his home office after breakfast. He still had details from a deal to work out, which he wanted to have completed so he could spend quality time with Antonella during the rest of her stay.

  She and her daughter went to the home theater. Instead of sitting in the tall-back leather seats, they sat in the overstuffed sofa that ran along the rear wall. It was filled with giant pillows, and was a comfy alternative to the chairs. Antonella stretched out beside Nadine for a Harry Potter marathon.

  Late morning and halfway through the first movie, Nadine’s former in-laws arrived, sooner than expected. Philippa came to announce their arrival, and that’s when all the commotion started. Antonella rushed out and Nadine followed her. By the time she made it outside, Antonella and Gabriela had already fallen into each other’s arms with gleeful squeals.

  Cortez stood outside in jeans and a ribbed gray shirt, his handsome face brightened with joy, greeting his much taller and huskier brother, Gustavo, beside a gray SUV. His wife, Gabriela, three of the boys, and their luggage, arrived in that vehicle, while his eldest, Carlos, had driven behind in a blue sedan with the second oldest.

  Gustavo was a giant of a man at six foot five, with beefy arms and a weather-worn face that came from working out in the elements. His stern features belied a gentle nature, and his black hair was streaked with more gray than Cortez’s. By contrast, his wife, Benita, was a petite woman with reddish-blonde hair, a soothing smile, and a very pregnant belly—baby number seven.

  There were hugs and kisses all around, and finally Benita stopped to beam at Nadine. “It’s so good to see you.”