by Penny Jordan
Why did Sabrina get the feeling it wasn’t just her business technique he was talking about? Wishful thinking, she concluded disparagingly. Thinking about her husband in bed was becoming an obsession. She gulped her coffee and returned the cup noisily to its elegant green and gold saucer.
‘I had a visit from my sister yesterday—Ellie. I invited her to the house on Saturday to meet you. Was that all right?’
‘That is good, yes.’ His lips parted, showing those perfect white teeth, and for a long moment Sabrina just basked in the pleasure of his smile.
‘I hope you still think it’s good after she’s gone. I’m afraid my sister isn’t one for standing on ceremony. Neither does she pull her punches.’
Javier frowned.
‘She says exactly what she thinks,’ Sabrina explained. ‘I just thought I’d better warn you.’
‘No doubt it is because she cares about you.’ Signalling the young waitress for more coffee, he stayed silent while she refilled both their cups. When she’d gone, he leant forward towards Sabrina and snagged her hand. His touch electrified her. All she heard was the wave-like pounding of her blood in her ears. ‘It is good to have family who care.’
‘The way you do for Angelina.’
‘Sí.’ He released her hand to sit back in his chair and Sabrina didn’t miss the flash of concern his dark eyes exhibited. ‘I have already talked to the authorities concerned about adoption. I have been advised there should be no problem. It is a big relief, yes?’
‘Yes, it must be. That little girl deserves something good to happen. She seemed a little brighter yesterday, don’t you think?’
‘I am glad you noticed. I thought so too. This evening I thought we might all go out for the evening—to the movies perhaps?’
‘Javier, I…’
‘What is it, Sabrina?’
‘We need to talk about us…about—about our arrangement.’
‘You are unhappy about something?’
‘No! But…where do we draw the line exactly? I mean, I want to help you with Angelina but this marriage of ours isn’t real, is it? And I—’
‘Isn’t real?’ He was scowling heavily, immediately alert. ‘We said our vows in front of the proper authorities, no? We signed the papers. Of course this marriage is real.’
‘You know very well what I mean.’ She rubbed the side of her temple and wondered why the room suddenly felt so unbearably hot. ‘We agreed it’s a formality—a business arrangement. That understood, I can’t be so involved in your life. There have to be lines we absolutely don’t cross. Do you see what I’m getting at?’
‘You do not like spending time with me and Angelina?’
Mortified, Sabrina rushed to reassure him. Without thought she automatically reached out for his hand, covering those fascinating brown fingers with her own pale ones. Heat immediately made its presence felt but she couldn’t let go. ‘How could you ever think that? I care about you both.’
Her words warmed Javier like a deep draught of brandy stealing into his blood and he couldn’t help but smile. ‘We are fine as we are, Sabrina—wouldn’t you say? As far as I can see, nothing has to be changed.’
Oh, this was getting complicated. Biting her lip, Sabrina slid her hand away from his. She stared down into her coffee, feeling as though all the control she’d assumed over her life for the past fifteen years was slowly but surely slipping away.
‘I will order you some dessert. You hardly ate any of your lunch.’ Before she could stop him, Javier had summoned the pretty young waitress and ordered some rich-sounding sweet that Sabrina knew under normal circumstances she’d be sorely tempted by. However, her current circumstances weren’t normal at all and the pudding would no doubt go to waste.
‘You shouldn’t have done that.’
‘You need to eat. In my country, men look after their women.’ He said it so matter-of-factly that Sabrina didn’t know whether to hit him with something or simply submit to the inevitable. She’d been taking care of herself for so long now that the mere concept of a man assuming any kind of responsibility for her welfare was completely alien.
‘We’re back to that again, are we? Have you even heard of feminism in Argentina?’ she retorted, rattled.
In return he gave her one of those slow, deeply sexy smiles that made her insides dissolve like melting sugar. ‘Some of it we younger men embrace—some we don’t.’
‘I don’t think I should get into this argument.’ Her face flushed, blue eyes resentful, she sank back into her chair with a sigh and folded her arms across her chest.
‘You think I mind you arguing with me? I like a woman who knows her own mind. I have no problem with you expressing your views, Sabrina. Even if I don’t happen to agree…’
So much for establishing where we stand. Staring down at the incredible chocolate concoction the waitress placed in front of her, Sabrina picked up her spoon and defiantly tucked in.
Javier paused outside his niece’s door. Was that laughter he had heard or had his foolish, hopeful heart just imagined it? He knocked briefly at the door and his shoulders automatically tightened as Angelina called out, ‘Come in, Uncle.’
The sight that met his eyes had him staring in stunned disbelief. CDs and tapes spread out on the floor all around them, Angelina and Sabrina were lying front down on the carpet, propped up on their elbows, sifting through discs like two giggling schoolgirls. Although with Sabrina dressed in tight denims and a little pink T-shirt that was riding above her waist, her long hair loose down her back, she was most definitely all grown up. Javier’s breathing felt suddenly laboured. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked lightly, feeling oddly excluded.
‘We’re just listening to some music and talking about girl stuff.’ Angelina’s small shoulders shrugged as if it should be perfectly obvious. ‘Sabrina said that her sister got my favourite singer’s autograph at a concert and she’s going to ask her on Saturday if I could have it.’
‘That’s nice.’ Moving to the bed with its bright pink Barbie duvet, Javier sat down, his gaze helplessly gravitating to Sabrina’s long, slim legs in soft, hugging denim and the sweet curve of her sexy rear end.
‘Did you want something, Javier?’ she asked him, smiling. Was it his fevered imagination or was there a more intimate invitation in that smile of hers?
‘Yes, Uncle, because if you don’t, we’d really like some privacy—wouldn’t we, Sabrina?’
‘I was just going to offer you both a drink of some kind. How about some fruit juice or a glass of milk, Angelina?’ Rising to his feet, he dug his hands into his trouser pockets, irked that he suddenly felt superfluous to the needs of the women in his life.
‘Juice is fine, Uncle. How about you, Sabrina?’
‘Sure. Thanks.’
‘OK. See you in a minute.’
There was a wildlife documentary on the TV about tigers in India he’d wanted to see but, once settled in the big luxurious armchair, the remote control at his elbow, Javier couldn’t work up an interest. Not when Angelina had actually bid him goodnight with a smile on her face for the first time in weeks and Sabrina was taking a shower. Did the woman tell him she was going to take a shower just to taunt him? He shifted against the cushions at his back, cursing softly at the discomfort of having his blood head south with a vengeance.
He flicked off the TV and raked his fingers irritably through his hair. Almost of their own volition his feet took him out of the room, down the thickly carpeted corridor to what was now Sabrina’s room. He rapped briefly on the door.
He heard movement from within, the sound of something thunking to the floor and her muttered curse. His heart beat a little faster.
‘Hi.’ Her face pink from the shower, dressed in a thick white towelling robe and with her long hair scooped up into a loose topknot, she looked deliciously feminine and warm. Javier knew he was playing with fire. This isn’t part of the plan, he told himself. I don’t want to care about this woman. I don’t want to desire her the way I do�
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‘Is everything all right?’ he asked after a long moment spent just gazing at her as a starving man gazed at a banquet.
‘You’re too late if you’ve come to scrub my back,’ came her rejoinder, blue eyes issuing a challenge that hit him square in the solar plexus.
‘My bad luck, I guess.’ As he stepped into the room, Sabrina heard the soft ‘snick’ of the door closing behind him with a thundering heart.
CHAPTER SIX
‘WHAT are you doing?’ Her hands went to her robe, fingering the soft collar, absently stroking the material. Seeing the small pulse beat at the side of his temple, she got the strangest sensation that she’d been waiting all her life for his answer.
‘Looking at you,’ he replied. ‘Do you mind?’
Sabrina had heard of being stripped naked by a man’s eyes, but her husband was way ahead. He was shamelessly making love to her with that slumberous dark gaze of his, heating her blood with a potent mixture of fire and pure masculine chemistry, making her skin prickle with the sensation of being physically touched in the most intimately erotic way. Inside her robe her nipples peaked, the intense, aching throb bordering on pain. Moisture spread between the juncture of her thighs as her knees literally started to shake.
‘You should go.’ Finding her voice, she silently acknowledged it had no real conviction. How could it when she craved him the way parched land needed rain?
‘We never kissed when we exchanged vows.’ He took a step nearer until her startled gaze was in direct line with the second white button on his shirt. The exposed V of his skin appeared very bronze and all the more appealing because of it. The heat they were engendering between them turned up the temperature in the room another notch.
‘I would very much like to remedy that, Sabrina.’
When his hands settled possessively around her upper arms, his breath drifting feather-light touches across her face, Sabrina focused on his mouth. That perfect, strong impression of everything that was Javier D’Alessandro—courage, honour, strength and enough sizzling personal attraction to melt all the ice in a glacier.
When that same mouth slanted possessively across hers, she leaned into his kiss as if the decision had been totally taken out of her hands and she might as well bow to the inevitable. With a husky sound of hungry need, she willingly opened to the invasion of his tongue, welcoming his hotly intimate exploration as if it was the Christmas gift she’d always dreamed of but never had. Her fingers curled into the hard, iron strength of his shoulders beneath the silkiness of his shirt, even as he hauled her urgently against the granite wall of muscle and sinew that was his chest. Deepening the kiss until he could hear the wild roar of his own blood in his ears, his heart thumping with all the force of a blacksmith’s hammer, Javier told himself he had no right to hold her like this, to demand so much when she had already saved his life by marrying him. But when reason was weighted against pure, raging desire, it made a poor persuader. The sweet, fresh pine scent of her shampoo, her warm, giving body still glowing from her shower making seductive little asides into his senses, Javier’s hands moved from her arms to slide up her back, pressing her closer still. Every one of her delicious feminine curves melded with the harder lean contours of his own proudly male body and he was heavily, almost painfully aroused.
With great reluctance Sabrina forced herself to come to her senses. Her small, elegant hands sliding down his shirt, she pushed against him, staring up at him with blue eyes that were dark with longing and regret. She shouldn’t be doing this. They shouldn’t be doing this.
Javier let loose a muffled curse in Spanish. ‘Madre del Dios!’
‘We can’t. This wasn’t part of our agreement.’ She shot him a nervous smile.
‘No.’ Stepping away, ostensibly to put temptation out of reach, he reluctantly agreed. Then, changing his mind, he shook his head, hands dropping angrily to his hips. ‘Is it wrong that I should desire you? I know we have an agreement but I am a living, breathing man with hot blood running through my veins! Am I supposed not to notice when you smile at me as if you’re pleased to see me, or tell me that you’re going to take a shower with an invitation in your eyes? I cannot pretend not to want you, Sabrina. It would be denying my own nature.’
‘If we are to see this thing through then you have to! Six months down the line, when Angelina’s adoption comes through and we sign the divorce papers, I’ll be leaving to take up where I left off, Javier, and so will you. We have to be sensible.’
‘Sensible?’ Frustration crawling through his skin, Javier glared at her. ‘You do not know what you ask. Is the business all you think of? You must have ice in your veins, woman!’ Without another word, he turned and exited the room, slamming the door behind him.
‘Good morning, Angelina. What have you got lined up at school today? Something nice, I hope.’ Sweeping into the kitchen, dressed in a navy-blue linen suit and carrying her briefcase, Sabrina paused at the work-top to pour a cup of coffee from the percolator, then brought it to the table to join the little girl dressed in her grey and green uniform, her black hair in two neat braids. Angelina acknowledged Sabrina’s presence with a slight dip of her head. Immediately sensing something amiss, Sabrina slid her hand across the child’s.
‘What’s the matter, darling? Not feeling well this morning?’
She shook her head without saying a word. The silence was followed by two wet streaks tracking slowly down her pretty face. Sabrina’s heart squeezed tightly. Without further ado, she cradled Angelina’s head against her chest, stroking down the silky, soft hair, murmuring any words of comfort that came to mind. With a shudder, the little girl leaned deeper into Sabrina’s jacket, her hand reaching out to clutch hers. The wave of love that surged through her at that trusting little touch made her eyes sting with tears.
‘Oh, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting but it will get better in time, I promise. You’re being so brave, so brave.’
‘Angelina, mi angel, what is wrong?’ Suddenly Javier was there. Handsome and concerned, he dropped to his haunches beside them, rubbing Angelina’s hunched back with firm, soothing strokes, his devastatingly dark gaze meeting Sabrina’s, frowning at the tears he saw there.
‘I think she’s having a bad day,’ she explained gently. ‘I’ll stay with her for a while. I don’t have to rush.’
‘Would you like that, Angelina? Would you like Sabrina to stay with you?’
The child sniffed and nodded.
‘Te amo. Everything will be all right.’ Planting a kiss at the side of her cheek, Javier smiled tenderly.
‘There’s some coffee in the pot,’ Sabrina told him.
‘Rosie must be around somewhere if you want breakfast.’
‘She is just drying her hair.’ Her small fist scrubbing at her eyes, Angelina hiccuped then leant her head back against Sabrina’s chest. Noticing the small, trusting gesture with a thump in his chest, Javier got to his feet, gave Sabrina’s shoulder a squeeze, then went across the room to pour himself some coffee.
‘Have you eaten?’ He directed his question to the both of them.
‘I had some cornflakes, Uncle. I don’t want anything else.’
‘As long as you ate something, mi querida. We have to take great care of you. What about you, Sabrina? Can I get you some toast or cereal?’
‘I don’t usually have breakfast in the morning.’
‘Why not?’
‘I don’t usually have the time.’ She was drying Angelina’s tears with the pad of her thumb, smiling into the sad little face, still holding her.
Again Javier felt his heart turn over. Was it only last night he had accused this woman of having ice in her veins? Because he had been burning up for her he had let his frustration boil over into an insult when she rejected him—an insult that he deeply regretted. Watching her now with his niece, her beautiful, candid blue eyes too bright, he concluded that his new wife was a natural mother. It was just a shame she didn’t know it. ‘You should make time,’ he admo
nished, wishing his voice wasn’t quite so stern because Sabrina threw him a bewildered look that pricked at his conscience badly. He would make it up to her, he promised himself. Later on today he would go out and buy her a gift of some kind—one for Angelina too. It would, he decided, give him the greatest pleasure to spoil them both a little.
When Sabrina still wasn’t home at ten-thirty that same evening, Javier paced the living-room for a further five minutes before retracing his steps to the kitchen to stare at the note that Rosie had scribbled earlier and left for him propped up by the sugar basin: ‘Sabrina rang. Said she’s going out for a drink with a colleague and not to wait dinner.’ Angelina was staying the night at a friend’s house. Julie’s parents had been good friends with Michael and had been pressing him for a while now to let Angelina come and stay. His niece had been happy to go and so Javier had raised no objections. He understood life had to go on and he wasn’t about to curtail even the smallest pleasure if it made the child feel good. But where was Sabrina and what was keeping her? Who was this colleague she’d gone out with? Jill, or Robbie? He scowled at the thought of the young man who worked with her. He’d seen the admiring way he looked at Sabrina sometimes and it made Javier naturally a little cool towards him.
Switching on the radio, he flicked through the stations for something that wouldn’t bite on his nerves. As the soothing strains of harp strings filled the room, he turned up the volume a little then poured himself a brandy. Remembering a stack of Spanish magazines he’d bought from the newsagents in Harrods, he returned to the living-room to fetch them, bringing them back to the large pine table in the kitchen. Sipping his brandy, he immersed himself in an article about the compelling virtues of the latest Italian sports car, smiling wryly to himself when he thought about the three similar models he had in his garage at home in Buenos Aires. Once upon a time they’d been his pride and joy. Now they did nothing for him. He would have to ring his cousin Enrique and tell him to take them for a spin.
