.

      Santiago had never wanted a woman this much in his life, and damn her she knew it. He wanted her so badly that he could taste it. He wanted to taste her so badly that … He embraced his anger just to stay in control.

      Lucy sucked in a deep, wrathful breath and blurted, ‘You manipulative—’

      He moved so fast it seemed that one moment he was standing several feet away and the next he was beside her, with his finger poised a whisper away from her parted lips. She felt the pressure building inside and was totally helpless to do anything about it.

      ‘Think very carefully before you continue, Lucy. I am not my brother and I am not in the habit of turning the other cheek.’

      ‘You’re—’ He lunged without warning and grabbed her by the waist. The other hand went to the nape of her neck, his fingers pushing into her hair as he pulled her into him.

      About the Author

      KIM LAWRENCE lives on a farm in rural Anglesey. She runs two miles daily, and finds this an excellent opportunity to unwind and seek inspiration for her writing! It also helps her keep up with her husband, two active sons, and the various stray animals which have adopted them. Always a fanatical consumer of fiction, she is now equally enthusiastic about writing. She loves a happy ending!

       Recent titles by the same author:

GIANNI’S PRIDE* IN A STORM OF SCANDAL THE THORN IN HIS SIDE (21st Century Bosses) A SPANISH AWAKENING (One Night In …) *linked to SANTIAGO’S COMMAND

       Did you know these are also available as eBooks? Visit www.millsandboon.co.uk

       Santiago’s Command

      Kim Lawrence

      

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      CHAPTER ONE

      ‘LUCY Fitzgerald …?’

      Santiago, who had been half listening to his brother’s enthusiastic description of the latest woman who was ‘the one’, lifted his head, the indent above his narrowed eyes deepening as he tried to place the name that seemed for some reason strangely familiar.

      ‘Do I know her?’

      At the question his half-brother, who had gone to stand in front of the large gilded mirror above the room’s impressive fireplace, laughed. He took one last complacent look at his reflection, ran a hand over the dark hair he wore collar length and turned back to his brother with a white grin. ‘Oh, if you’d met Lucy you wouldn’t have forgotten,’ he promised confidently. ‘You’ll love her, Santiago.’

      ‘Not as much as you love you, little brother.’

      Ramon, who, unable to resist the lure of his reflection, had swivelled his gaze to cast a critical look at his profile, dragged a hand over his carefully groomed stubble before responding to the jibe with a joking retort: ‘You can always improve upon perfection.’

      In reality, Ramon was philosophical that, effort or not, perfect profile or not, he was never going to have what his charismatic brother had and wasted. If not criminal, it was at the very least bad manners to Ramon’s way of thinking to not even appear to notice the women who seemed more than willing to overlook his brother’s imperfect profile—the slight bump in his nose was a permanent reminder of Santiago’s rugby-playing days—as they sought to attract his attention by any, some not exactly subtle, means.

      He angled his speculative gaze at the older man seated behind the massive mahogany desk. Despite the fact he wasted opportunities, his brother was no monk, but he was equally by no stretch of the imagination a player.

      ‘Will you ever marry again, do you think?’ Ramon regretted the unconsidered words the moment they left his lips. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to …’ He gave an awkward shrug. It had been eight years since Magdalena had died and even though he’d been a kid at the time himself Ramon could still remember how awful the dead look in his brother’s eyes had been. Even now a careless mention of Magdalena’s name could bring it back. Not that he didn’t have a constant reminder: little Gabriella was the spitting image of her mother.

      Feeling sympathy for Ramon’s obvious discomfort, Santiago pushed away the sense of crushing failure and guilt any thought of his dead wife always evoked and made himself smile.

      ‘So this Lucy is making you think of marriage …?’ he asked, changing the subject, fully anticipating his brother’s horrified denial. ‘She must be special,’ he drawled.

      ‘She is …’

      Santiago’s brows lifted at the vehemence in his brother’s response.

      ‘Very special. Marriage …?’ A thunderstruck expression crossed Ramon’s face before he directed a challenging look at his brother and added, ‘Why not?’ Ramon said, looking almost as shocked to hear himself say the words as Santiago felt hearing them.

      Repressing a groan and taking comfort from the shock, Santiago struggled not to react to the challenge.

      ‘Why not?’ he drawled, struggling to keep the bite out of his voice as he added, ‘Let me see … you’re twenty-three and you’ve known this girl how long?’

      ‘You were twenty-one when you got married.’

      Santiago’s dark lashes came down in a concealing mesh as he thought, And look how well that worked out.

      Aware that too much opposition would just make his brother dig his heels in, Santiago gave an offhand shrug. Ramon’s enthusiasms frequently cooled as quickly as they surfaced.

      ‘Maybe I should meet this Lucy …?’

      The beginnings of a belligerent gleam faded from his easy-going brother’s eyes. ‘You’ll love her, Santiago, you’ll see, you won’t be able to help yourself. She’s perfect! Totally perfect, a …’ He moved his hands in an expressive curving sweep and gave a sigh. ‘A goddess.’

      Santiago raised an amused brow at the reverent declaration and, grimacing slightly, ran his thumb down the pile of correspondence designated personal that had been awaiting him on his return.

      ‘If you say so.’ His thoughts moving on, he picked up the top envelope and got to his feet, stretching the kinks from his spine as he walked around the big mahogany desk.

      ‘You know I’ve never met anyone like her before.’

      ‘This Lucy sounds … exceptional.’ Santiago, who had never encountered a woman who was either perfect or a goddess, humoured Ramon.

      ‘So you’ve no objection?’

      ‘Bring her to dinner on Friday?’

      ‘Seriously? Here?’

      Santiago nodded absently as he scrolled down the page he held, squinting to read the neat but microscopic tightly packed writing on it. The message it held was familiar: Ramon, his mother said, had messed up and what, she wanted to know, was he going to do about it?

      His head lifted. ‘You didn’t mention you have to retake your second year.’ A fact that his stepmother, without actually saying so, managed to expertly imply was actually Santiago’s fault.

      Maybe, he mused, she had a point?

      Had the time come for some tough love? While he wanted his brother to enjoy the freedom he had missed out on after their father’s premature death, had he been guilty of over-compensating