‘Be careful that doesn’t become a self-fulfilling prophecy,’ Cristiano warned darkly, his expression without humour.
Why did Dominique get the curious feeling he was not just talking about her? What was his story? she mused silently. Why wasn’t an amazing man like him married, with at least half a dozen kids to dote on? He was clearly devoted to family, and appeared to genuinely love children. Yet there was something behind those fascinating eyes of his that Dominique had glimpsed once or twice that bothered her…something that suggested he had been badly wounded by someone too…
‘This is really very good,’ she said, digging her fork into the fragrant rice dish in front of her, knowing she was deliberately trying to deflect further discussion about a topic that caused her more grief than any other. ‘Though it’s hard to concentrate on food with the fantastic view.’
‘Yes,’ Cristiano agreed, his steady gaze lingering long on Dominique’s face. ‘The view is…rather compelling…’
Later that evening Dominique found herself in the library. She had mentioned to Luisa that she had forgotten to bring a book to read, and the older woman had kindly brought her to this magnificent repository of books of all kinds—many, as she had proudly told Dominique, in English. Her husband had been a great reader, and so was Cristiano, and he often brought books back with him from his travels. After Luisa had left her to go and help prepare the evening meal, and while Matilde was under the protective wing of her grandmother in the sitting room, it was really pleasant for Dominique to have some time in which to relax on her own for a little while.
As she scanned the generously filled bookshelves, she was inadvertently distracted by a group of photographs that hung on the wall. Her interest piqued, she found herself gravitating there to inspect them more closely. But before she could do so the library door opened behind her, and the man she seemed to spend an ever-increasing amount of time trying not to think about entered the room. He was dressed casually but smartly, in another elegant white shirt teamed with black trousers tailored to perfection, and his dark hair looked glossily damp in the light that shone from the hall behind him. Dominique realised he must have recently showered for dinner.
Without saying anything, he shut the door behind him and slowly came into the room to join her. She sucked in a breath. When he was just inches away from her, he spoke. ‘My mother told me I would find you in here. I do not mean to intrude upon your privacy, but I thought you might like some help navigating what we have. Tell me what kind of books you like and I will point you in the right direction.’
‘Oh…I like all kinds of books. Biographies, novels, history…Do you have anything about the region where you live?’
Dominique’s tongue briefly stole out to wet her suddenly dry lips. Cristiano was standing way too close…She could barely remember her own name, let alone expound on what kind of books she liked reading when he stood so near!
‘Sí.’ He shrugged those wide shoulders of his as though her answer amused him. ‘Of course. We have many books on that subject. We have a fascinating history, as I am sure you can tell just by glancing at the architecture around you. But you surprise me, Dominique. I would have thought you were more in the mood for a novel of some kind. A Christmas Carol, perhaps, bearing in mind the season we are in?’
‘Dickens is a wonderful writer, but honestly I don’t think I have the concentration for a novel right now. My mind is all over the place!’
‘Oh?’ His gaze was seemingly transfixed on her lips, and Dominique froze. ‘Why is that?’
‘Wh-why?’
‘I see that you are wearing the shawl I bought you,’ he commented.
Disturbingly, he moved closer. So close that she could see every minute detail of his arrestingly attractive face in sharp focus—from the coal-black sweep of his long lashes to the darker shadow of beard grazing his hard, lean jaw, with that Cordova dimple in the chin that Matilde had so charmingly inherited. She was startlingly aware too of the exotic tang of his aftershave which, combined with the seductive male heat he emanated, was putting her senses under extreme intoxicating duress. Dominique had no will to tear her gaze away for even a second.
‘I was right. It perfectly matches the colour of your eyes.’
‘It does? Well, I—’
She was stunned into silence when Cristiano placed his hands either side of her face, his hypnotic gaze holding hers with heart-pounding purpose, and Dominique knew what he intended long before the explosive touch of his lips on hers obliterated every coherent thought in her head.
This time it was no exploratory kiss—executed, perhaps, with the aim of helping her forget her worries for a while and relax…No. This was the full-blown, hungry kiss of a man caught in the grip of inflamed desire, and Dominique had never in her life been the recipient of such raw, passionate need.
His tongue thrust into her mouth with almost brutal command, and a heat started to burn inside her that made her shake and fear for her very sanity. Her hands reached out to steady herself against Cristiano, her fingers biting into the iron-hard flesh of his waist as her own escalating need suddenly outran any whispered caution in her head to stop this now and be sensible. It was simply heavenly to be wanted and desired this much, and Dominique started to kiss Cristiano back just as feverishly and wantonly as he was kissing her, her heart open wide and her senses more intensely alive than they’d ever been before.
Ramón had kissed her with the clumsily selfish needs of an over-eager boy, but Cristiano was without doubt kissing her like a man. And when his hand cupped her breast and he moved his thumb devastatingly back and forth across the rigid velvet tip beneath her thin summer dress, Dominique’s hips felt as if they had melted right down to the bone. Her mouth slid away from his with a soft groan of pleasure as he ground his tight, lean hips against hers, the tender flesh of her cheekbone grazing against the harshness of his studded jaw. Impinging on her besieged senses was the shocking primal evidence of Cristiano’s need, and Dominique’s legs seemed to turn to liquid rubber that could not possibly sustain her upright position for long.
‘I will lock the door,’ Cristiano whispered against her ear, brushing his mouth briefly but devastatingly across her tender lobe.
Before she could absorb the earth-shattering meaning of such a statement he left her to do just that. With the touch of a button he dimmed the lights too, and Dominique stared at him as he returned, wondering how a man as beautiful and perfect as he could possibly want an unconfident and ordinary girl like her, when he could probably have any stunning woman he wanted.
‘Everyone is busy and will not miss us for a while,’ he told her, and before she had an inkling of what he intended Cristiano slid his arm around her waist and lifted her bodily up into his arms.
Her heart was racing so fast inside her chest that Dominique seriously feared for her ability to remain conscious. Finding herself gently lowered onto a sumptuous red velvet chaise-longue that was positioned by the unlit fireplace, she stared wide-eyed and nervous up into the riveting handsome face that gazed down at her.
‘I want to make love to you…I have been thinking about it all day,’ he told her. ‘In fact…the idea has been consuming me.’
Dominique reacted purely on instinct. Reaching up, she urged his face down towards hers. The time between kisses had been far too long, in her opinion, and she was unashamedly hungry for the taste of his lips again. He had a taste like no other man she’d ever known, and it was both intoxicating and addictive.
Her delightful blue shawl slid away from her shoulders, its delicate fringe brushing against the exposed flesh of her slender arms revealed by her dress. She heard the thud of Cristiano’s shoes as they hit the floor, and a little throb of shock pulsed through her. Just before he touched his achingly seductive mouth to hers Dominique sensed the pleasure she’d been longing for about to sweep her away—as easily as some flimsy raft on a compelling sea. ‘Please don’t regret this…’ she said softly. ‘That’s all I ask.’
For a moment his avid glance stole her soul. ‘Nunca…Never!’
His seductive reply was as fervent as Dominique had hoped it would be. Arms entwined around him, she felt Cristiano’s muscular weight press her down deep into the velvet fabric of the couch beneath her. The hard, masculine warmth of his body seemed to seep into her marrow, making everything inside her tense so hard with need that she felt she might snap in two.
Shifting his position slightly, he started to touch her intimately with his hands and his mouth…exploring, kneading, tasting…and Dominique could not contain the uncontrollable tremors that were the result of his devastating sensual attention.
‘You are so soft…so incredibly beautiful,’ he whispered against her ear as his hands—which had been moving back and forth across her pelvis—finally moved lower, dragging up the hem of her dress and, with destroying purpose, cupping her through the flimsy cotton of her panties.
Even as Dominique felt her breath catch, Cristiano inserted his finger into the heat and moisture that drenched her there. Pushing her dress up further, he let his hot mouth fall upon her aching breasts contained by the simple white cotton bra, his lips and tongue giving them equal attention as his fingers worked their irresistible magic between her thighs. Dominique felt herself drowning in the erotic pleasure that consumed her like hot, licking flame ripping through a tinder-dry forest.
A harsh gasp left her throat and, captured by the sound, Cristiano diverted his attention from her breasts to her mouth, claiming it passionately as his fingers moved rhythmically faster and deeper inside her.
Learning intimately what the expression ‘seeing stars’ meant, Dominique bit down hard on her lip to try and contain her cry as she climaxed, shutting her eyes against a pleasure so wild and yet so profound that she couldn’t help but release tears.
‘Dominique? Look at me.’
Her eyes flew open again at the huskily voiced request, and her already fast-beating heart galloped even more when she saw the expression of primal need and hunger etched into the striking contours of Cristiano’s bronzed face.
‘What is it?’
‘You are crying…Is it because I caused you pain?’
His concern was such that Dominique’s heart stalled. She hurried to reassure him.
‘No. No—of course not! I just…’ Hesitating over what she had been going to say—because she did not want to refer to Ramón and the intimacy she had shared with him, which had been nowhere near as satisfying—Dominique tried to explain her feelings another way. ‘I was crying because what you—what you did gave me such pleasure, Cristiano! It made me feel a little emotional…that’s all.’
‘Do you know how much more pleasure I want to give you? I am almost in physical pain with the desire to be inside you!’ Cristiano’s voice was rough with need as he slid his hand behind Dominique’s head and angled it towards him, his voracious glance devouring every inch of her startled face. ‘But I realise this is not the place for me to join with you as I long to! Tonight…after everyone has retired and Matilde is fast asleep…I will come to you. Leave your door unlocked…sí?’
Should she come to her senses and say no? All Dominique knew was that she ached down to her very soul to have him possess her in the way he so candidly described, and to refuse him would be like denying herself vital oxygen to breathe. She wasn’t about to do any such thing.
‘All right,’ she whispered, tenderly cupping his face.
He kissed her passionately then, as if to brand her with his taste and leave her with the tantalising promise of what lay ahead in the night to come…
CHAPTER NINE
THROUGHOUT the delicious meal that had been placed before him Cristiano merely toyed with the food on his plate. It was as if some strange exotic disease afflicted him, making him feel light-headed almost to the point of dizziness. His heart raced and his stomach clenched as if it was trapped in a vice. And the symptoms were heightened whenever his gaze happened to alight on Dominique.
Dominique…the bewitching young woman that his irresponsible cousin had got pregnant and abandoned without even the most basic financial assistance with which to raise his child. The woman Cristiano had sworn to protect and watch over until such time as some other man…her future husband…took on the responsibility. The woman he now lusted after as he had lusted after no other woman before…Even his wife, God rest her soul.
He could hardly believe what was happening to him. Before he had pledged himself to Martina, Cristiano had enjoyed seducing women just as much as any other red-blooded male. But his need to be near Dominique—to know where she was when she wasn’t in his sight, to hear her voice, to gaze at her and wonder what it would feel like to have that long unbound hair of hers trickle freely through his fingers, to have her unique scent saturate his senses—it was like some unstoppable force of nature that he scarce had any control over.
For the past two years he had steered clear of romantic entanglements like a driver taking an immediate detour whenever a potential traffic jam loomed on the horizon. Nothing could have prepared him for the powerful feelings running through his body and mind whenever he even thought about Dominique—let alone spent time with her. And this afternoon, when he had deliberately sought her out in the library, locked the door and engaged her in the most intimate way…Cristiano almost had to suppress a groan as he recalled the experience.
As though sensing his passionate discomfort, Dominique glanced across the table at him just then, and he saw the surge of colour that tinted her cheeks to a most delightful rose-pink. Dry-mouthed, he let his glance fall to the scooped neckline of the dress she was wearing, and the enticing shadow of cleavage it revealed. She had the most lush, perfect breasts…breasts that Cristiano’s mouth had become acquainted with only a few short hours ago.
When he thought of the night that lay ahead he tried to quash any qualms that arose in his mind about the wisdom—or lack of it—of what he was anticipating by fiercely asserting that he would not be reckless. He would absolutely protect Dominique against another situation like the one that had manifested itself with Ramón. And he reassured himself that their being together the way he yearned for could not be wrong when she had made it so clear to him that it was what she desired too…
Dominique had lain in the bathtub for ages after Matilde had gone to sleep. She had scattered a handful of fragrant rose petals in the steamy hot water—a gift that had been left in a beautifully presented jar, along with many other expensive toiletries on the marble surround for her exclusive use. Lounging back in the gently lapping perfumed water, she felt as close to the legendary Cleopatra as a girl could get. She might not be bathing in asses’ milk but this luxurious alternative was seriously hard to beat!
As soon as she started to relax, one subject asserted itself in Dominique’s mind above all the rest. Cristiano and his promised visit. Even though the air was filled with steam, she sensed a shiver of delicious anticipation quiver through her. Their encounter this afternoon in the library had been beyond words, but it had left her hungry for more of his thrilling touch.
Her excitement was only dampened by one question…Was she the biggest fool that ever lived where men were concerned? Why didn’t it seem to be an even halfway viable option to resist Cristiano’s devastating attraction? It was a dangerous game she was playing. And she was the one who was going to get hurt—not him.
Her disquiet increased. He had already mentioned that he expected that she would meet someone else one day and get married. Surely the subtext of that assertion was that she would then be off his hands, leaving him free to enjoy the bachelor status Dominique guessed he guarded so jealously? And why wouldn’t he, when he was rich, gorgeous and successful? Who could blame him if he wanted to play the field instead of settling down? All that was probably on the cards with him for Dominique was a brief, intense affair.
A frustrated sigh escaped her. If only Cristiano hadn’t been so persistent in trying to help her! If only he hadn’t
acted so honourably on his cousin’s behalf and brought her back to Spain, united her daughter with her grandmother and given Dominique the opportunity for a far better life than she’d ever known before! All these amazing things had worked their magic on her sensitive heartstrings more than anything else—even more than the sizzling attraction that now flared between them. And now her situation was as precarious as a novice trapeze artist balancing on a high wire…
By the time she’d vacated the sensually fragrant bath serious doubt had set in about the whole affair. And once she’d dried herself off, put on a short cotton nightdress and climbed into bed, Dominique told herself that when Cristiano showed up she would tell him she’d changed her mind about them being intimate. That she’d decided it was best if they just stayed friends rather than risk spoiling everything if they became lovers…
But midnight came and went, and there was no sign of the man whose visit she’d anticipated with such nervous excitement and trepidation. Hurt that he’d obviously come to the conclusion himself that their nocturnal assignation wasn’t a good idea, Dominique switched off her bedside lamp and lay back in the darkness, feeling slightly ill. Why hadn’t he come? Had he recognised somehow that she was too needy and been put off? God knew she had tried so hard to contain her emotions and feelings around him, tried to let him see only that her intention was to be independent and not depend upon any man again! But then she had been so eager when he had kissed her, touched her. She had hardly pushed him away!
Oh, God…why couldn’t she ever get it right? Turning her face dejectedly into the pillow, Dominique reluctantly closed her eyes. As profound disappointment and an inevitable sense of rejection washed over her, she prayed she would soon escape her distress in the dreamy avenues of sleep…
‘Buenos diás, Dominique.’
Everything in her tightened at the sound of that arresting rich voice, but she did not glance round. In the large but homely kitchen, giving her daughter her breakfast, Dominique was halfway to Matilde’s mouth with a spoonful of oatmeal when Cristiano finally put in an appearance. The other members of his family had long since eaten and gone out again, leaving her with some precious time to spend alone with Matilde. She wondered that Cristiano had the nerve to wish her good morning after so casually standing her up last night, but told herself that whatever happened she mustn’t let him see how upset she was.
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