by Annie O'Neil
At this exact moment she wanted him. Plain and simple. The same way he wanted her.
She let her dress drop to the floor.
It had barely pooled round her ankles before she was in his arms, his mouth claiming hers more exquisitely than she would ever have imagined possible. His hands, broad and strong, spread along her back, her waist, her buttocks...all his touches and caresses leaving tendrils of heat in their wake.
As he drew her closer to him she reveled in the sensation of his shirt and trousers against her skin. The solid reminder of his ache for her. The warm, tropical air tickled like silk against her shoulders, between her thighs, on the soles of her feet as she went up on tiptoe to hungrily match his kisses.
Abruptly, he pulled back, his eyes burning with urgency and need. “You know this isn’t real.”
“This is.” She put her hand on his pounding heart, then moved it to her own. “And this is.”
“When this is over I will let you go.”
She nodded. She knew.
“I’m not gone yet.”
* * *
In one swift move, Diego scooped Isla up and into his arms and carried her toward the outside veranda—an enchanted sprawl of painted tiles, outdoor sofas and climbing plants, providing a private view of the sea and the setting sun just a few hundred meters beyond them.
Waves... The gentle shuffling of the palms... The shadow of the approaching moon... Apart from the elements they were completely isolated from everything and everyone.
It was his favorite place in the villa. Even more so now, as he watched his bride stretch out on the luxurious emerald and azure-colored cushions of the expansive daybed. He ripped the ties off the mosquito netting and watched as Isla disappeared behind the gentle billows of diaphanous curtains.
He stood at the end of the bed, open to the elements, and soaked in the vision that lay before him. She was dangerously beautiful, his wife. Her dark auburn hair fanned out against the pillows like rare silk, the sun’s golden rays weaving through it for added luster. Her blue eyes were clearer than the sea behind him.
His gaze shifted to her kiss-bruised lips. To the pink on her cheeks that had come from the abrasion of his stubble. Fighting his desire for her had been like holding a savage beast at bay.
“I like it,” she said.
“What?”
She pushed up on her elbows, the tips of her nipples straining against the blue lace of her bra. “Your stubble. It’s not as rough as you think.”
He knelt at the end of the bed and began to crawl toward her, until he was straddling her, taking the bulk of his weight on his shins.
“Where would you like to feel it next?”
A wicked look lit up her features, her tongue dipping out of her mouth to lick her upper lip. “Surprise me.”
His gut told him this was all new to Isla. The sensuality. The bravery. The brazenness of her longing. She was offering herself to him. And it wasn’t in gratitude. It was because she wanted him every bit as much as he wanted her. So he was going to take his time and give her every ounce of pleasure she deserved.
“As you wish, amorcita.”
He cupped her face with his hands and drew a long, sweet, hot kiss from her. There was an added boldness in her touch, different from just a few minutes ago when she’d dropped her dress and bared herself to him. She was wielding every bit as much power as he did, and she knew it.
They’d been open. Honest.
She was here now. And in a fortnight...as agreed...he would let her go.
“Unbutton my shirt.”
She wriggled out from under him and knelt across him. She reached out, her fingers touching his lips. He drew them in to his mouth, his tongue swirling round them. Her other hand skimmed along the fabric barely containing her breasts, then down along her belly, then teased along the edges of her skimpy panties. Lava-strength heat harpooned straight between his legs.
“Forget it,” he growled. “I can’t wait that long.”
He pulled his shirt off in one swift move. Her fingers reached out and found his belt buckle, undid it quickly then pulled it free of his trousers with whip-like precision.
Her hands sought his erection, straining against the fabric of his trousers, and stroked along the length of it. The rest of her body arched toward him as a little moan of pleasure swept past her lips. It was intensely erotic.
He clasped her wrists in one of his hands and pulled them up and over her head. He put his other hand to the small of her back. “Lie back. I want you to let me pleasure you.”
“Not until you’re naked,” she whispered, undoing the buttons of his fly one excruciating button at a time.
It was his turn to groan.
The moment she reached the bottom button he yanked his trousers off, then stretched out along the length of her. Unable to wait for anymore commands he cupped one of her breasts while his mouth took the other through the delicate lace. Her fingernails bit into his back. He sucked harder, his teeth lightly grazing against her nipple, until he couldn’t stand having anything between them. He flicked the clasp at the center of her chest apart and slipped the bra off, luxuriating in licking, sucking and kissing her breasts.
The more he touched her, the more her hips shifted and arched toward him. He gently grazed his hand along her belly, then slid it between her legs, where he could already feel she was ready for him. He slipped in a single finger, then another when she began to press against him with a rhythmic pulsing motion.
“I want you,” she whispered into his ear as her hands raked the length of his back. “I want to feel you inside me.”
He yanked his trousers up from the side of the bed and pulled out a small silver packet. He’d snagged a couple of condoms from the mobile clinic’s supply after he and Isla had been caught kissing all those days ago. They’d been burning a hole in his wallet ever since. Now he wished he’d grabbed a dozen. More. The entire box might not be enough to sate his desire.
He quickly sheathed the length of his erection, then pulled her close to him, whispering again and again, “This is real.”
Isla’s entire body was humming with anticipation. She drew in a breath as Diego’s arm muscles corded, taking the weight of his body as he held himself aloft. She had no actual control over her body’s response to him. It was as if magnets had been placed inside her and were uncontrollably drawing her to him. Not that she wanted to resist.
He put a knee between her legs. “Wrap them round me.”
His voice was so thick with emotion she felt tears spring to her eyes. A whimper of pleasure escaped her lips as she felt his length slide between her legs, shifting along the soft folds he’d already brought to a heated pool of readiness. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, he began to slide into her. Teasingly. To the point where he knew she would have to beg. And she did. There was no shame in it. No weakness. Only pure, unadulterated need.
He drew out the long, heated strokes until neither of them could bear it anymore and she cried out for him to take her. His hips began to move with a more fluid cadence, faster, stronger, more demanding, until finally she knew he was no longer moving with control but with undiluted, animalistic need.
And then, as one, their hips met in one graceful, powerful connection and pleasure poured through her as they shared a mutual release. She clung to him, simultaneously exhausted and energized.
After a few moments he lowered himself, then rolled over onto his back, pulling her to him so that her whole body was stretched out along the pure masculine length of him. The sensuality of skin on skin—hers soft, his warm, hairy in parts, smooth in others—threatened to reignite the fire of desire all over again.
A soft breeze was shifting in from the sea, blowing along her back. She shivered—but not because she was cold.
Diego tightened his hold on her. “Everything all right, amorcita?”
She pressed a hand against his chest and pushed herself up so that she could see his face. For the first time he looked relaxed. Happy. Not a changed man, necessarily, but more...complete.
“Want to talk about it?”
She shook her head and drew her hand along the soft bristles of his five o’clock shadow. “No.”
He let it drop, but she could see by the look in his eyes that he wouldn’t forget. That she would have to find a way to tell him about how much he’d changed her. How when she’d arrived here she’d not only been a man’s second choice, she’d become his reject. That the life she’d lived before meeting him had been a life crafted out of little more than fear. Fear of change. Fear of loss. Fear of being alone for the rest of her life.
And now she was halfway in love with a man who she would have to willingly walk away from if she wanted to live.
Diego reached up and swept a lock of hair behind her ear. “You look very thoughtful, amorcita. Are you sure you don’t want to talk about anything?”
“I’m sure,” she lied. “Just thinking about how this is absolutely the strangest holiday romance in the history of holiday romances.”
His eyebrows nearly shot off his forehead. “Is that what you’re calling this? A holiday romance?”
She shrugged. “No! I mean... What would you call it?”
She looked away, not really wanting an answer. They both knew what it was. A fiction.
Instead of answering, Diego wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to him, dropping a soft kiss on her forehead as the warm night air enveloped the pair of them in an invisible cocoon of togetherness.
Maybe she should stop asking questions, trying to define things, and give living in the moment a go.
She’d never lived her life as if she didn’t have a care in the world, and in a strange way that was what her life was right here and now. Her father was at home. Safe. Her clinic was being covered by a really talented locum. Her ex, so she’d heard from her father, had applied for a transfer to “somewhere with a bit more pace” than Loch Craggen.
The only person she needed to worry about right now was herself, because for the first time in her life she felt as though someone truly had her back.
She pressed her fingertips into Diego’s shoulders and nestled in close to him. Medicine, marriage and passion. It was almost unthinkably perfect...
But her heart nearly ripped at the seams as she let the truth invade it. This...the luxurious house, the extraordinary lovemaking, the undeniably noble man...none of it was based in reality. Her reality, at least. And sooner or later Isla would have to own the fact that everything that was happening between her and Diego was little more than a mirage.
She hid the tears that sprang to her eyes, nestling in even closer to Diego’s warm chest, and made a promise to herself. She’d live in the moment. And when she walked away she would hold her head high.
CHAPTER NINE
EACH NIGHT SINCE they’d first made love they had shared the night together. Today, fresh back from a shift at the hospital, Diego pulled open the large, carved wooden door leading into the interior courtyard and burst into hysterics at the sight that greeted him.
Carmela had Isla up on the box she’d used to make him and his brother stand on when she was making clothes for them and had her draped in fabric every color of the rainbow.
Isla looked across at him, her eyes brightening as they met and, ironically or not, struck a pose akin to the Statue of Liberty. “What do you think?”
“I love it.”
He gave Carmela an approving smile. The woman was clearly putting her stamp of approval almost literally on Diego’s choice of bride. If only she knew the details...
He quietly harrumphed. Knowing Carmela, she did know the details. And now she was making a point. Don’t do what you always do and walk away. This one’s a keeper.
“So...” He tapped his index finger on his chin as he imagined a fashion designer might. “Is this an everyday outfit, or for something a bit more special?”
“Diego!” Isla gave her hair a coltish flick. “With you every day is special.”
He wanted to believe it. Knew he couldn’t. So he played along instead—just as she was. The pair of them assuming roles to make the best of an insane situation.
As mad as it was, he could genuinely see doing this for the rest of his life. Being caught in this bubble of happiness that surrounded the two of them, empowering them rather than breaking them.
He made a mark for Team Vasquez on his mental scorecard and put a large nil under Axl’s. So far there had been no more trouble at the sanctuary. And no more mysterious “meet-and-greets” from Axl’s wife Serena. That visit niggled, though. She’d never approached him before and, if it was true he had been as boorish as Isla had suggested, she might not again.
Had he missed a trick?
Proof, if he needed any, that letting himself fall for Isla would cloud his judgment.
“So?” He touched one of the fabrics—a luminous green. “What do you have in mind?”
Something flashed across her eyes he couldn’t quite put a finger on. “Maybe when the dress is done we’ll know what to do with it. For now I’d like to get back into my scrubs. Get word out about Phase Two of the mobile clinic.”
“Phase Two?” This was news to him. “I didn’t realize we had a Phase One in place?”
“Absolutely. Ooh!” She pulled a pin out of a piece of fabric held atop her shoulder and handed it to Carmela. In Spanish, she thanked her, then continued, “Is it all right if we finish this up tomorrow?”
“Absolutely, señora,” Carmela cooed indulgently, throwing an unmistakable I’m her housekeeper now look at Diego. “Whatever you like. Shall I put dinner out for you at eight?”
Isla shook her head as Carmela began undraping the fabrics. “Don’t worry. We can sort something out. Perhaps I’ll make something Scottish for Diego. A bowl of Stovies? Or perhaps some clootie dumplings?”
Carmela gave her a dubious look, one that suggested nothing Scottish could match her cooking. It pleased Diego to see Isla laugh good-naturedly at the obvious slight. As if she were a part of the place.
She is part of the place, idiota. You guaranteed that when you put that ring on her finger. A ring that saved her life.
“Right!” Isla rubbed her hands together once her stint as a mannequin had finished and Carmela had disappeared into her sewing room. “You ready to hear my plan? Perhaps over a glass of wine out on the patio?”
“Sounds perfect.” He dropped a kiss on to her soft lips, instantly knowing, as she arched into him, that a simple kiss wouldn’t tide him over until he held her in his arms tonight.
Skin against skin. Legs and arms tangled together. Hearts beating as one. He pulled her closer to him and drew a long, sensual, heated kiss from her not releasing her until he heard that adorable little mew of happiness that meant they either had to go straight to bed or stop touching one another.
He pulled away. She wanted to talk. He owed it to her to listen.
“Come, amorcita. Let’s hear this plan of yours.”
* * *
“So that’s the plan in a nutshell.”
Isla was unsurprised to see Diego’s metaphorical brake lights go on. The thing was, she needed a project to distract herself from her looming departure date. She wanted to stay now, every bit as much as she’d wanted to leave when Diego had first slipped that wedding ring on to her finger. And knowing that was going to require some serious distraction.
“There is no way she will go for it.”
“But surely Maria will see the plus side of having a blood drive that would benefit the hospital?”
“Sí, but...”
“But what?”
He sat forward in his chair, elbows propped on his knees. “You wan
t half the donations to go to the mobile clinic?”
She nodded.
“It’s a great idea, but Maria would know that the blood would be going straight to Noche Blanca and would nix it in a minute.”
“So if Noche Blanca were no longer a threat, everyone could receive healthcare?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then I think it’s time we sat down with Axl Cruz and had a nice little chat.”
“Que?” The brake lights went on again. “Amor. Things don’t work so quickly here.” He tapped his watch. “Island time. Besides, I thought we’d agreed to let things settle before we approached Axl.”
She hung quote marks in the air with her fingers. “‘We’ agreed nothing of the sort. You made an executive decision.”
“One that you agreed with.”
Isla shook her finger in front of Diego’s face and made a No, I did not sound. “There is no need for these ridiculous flares of violence. There’s hasn’t been so much as a whisper of crime in the past few weeks.”
Diego’s expression was deadly serious. “The incident at the sanctuary was huge. There’s always a lull after that sort of things. People lay low. But it will happen again. Some would say it’s human nature, amor. To fight. To have conflict.”
“That’s a pretty bleak attitude.”
He fixed her with a solid gaze. One that reminded her he was a man who had lost his brother to violence. “There will never be a world without conflict. Without crime. Without loss.”
It didn’t mean they should give up. Just because they each bore the scars of other people’s fury.
“I think peace is possible on El Valderon. And I think we should do a blood drive. Remind everyone they have the power to save lives.”
He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “How did one small Scottish island contain all this energy?”
She looked away. He wasn’t to know she’d been an entirely different person less than a month ago. A person so intent on finding somewhere safe, somewhere it was impossible to get hurt, she’d not even noticed the only person she was hurting was herself.
