Kate’s voice felt husky, and already in her head she was rationalising giving in. She was leaving tomorrow evening, and with Rosie at lunch too Tiarnan was hardly going to ravish her, was he? And then once she got back to New York she’d be safe again … it would be fine.
‘Good. We’ll pick you up at midday from the lobby. See you then, Kate.’
And with those softly spoken last words, almost like a caress, the phone line went dead and Kate had the horrible feeling that everything was not going to be fine.
CHAPTER THREE
THE following day at midday Kate sat in the lobby of the impossibly chic hotel where she’d been staying. She’d already said goodbye to the crew who’d been with her for the shoot. They were all leaving on an earlier flight, heading to London and their next assignment. Her nerves were coiled tight, making her belly constrict. The thought of the lunch ahead was daunting, to say the least.
And then, as if pulled by an invisible thread, Kate’s head came up and she saw Tiarnan silhouetted in the doorway. A huge, imposing figure. Not even giving her time to collect herself, prepare herself. Kate’s nerves intensified to a crescendo as she stood up jerkily. Tiarnan strode authoritatively towards her—a man clearly on his own turf. Confident, powerful.
He was dressed in black trousers and a white shirt, open at the neck, his dark skin visible and the strong bronzed column of his throat. Kate hadn’t been sure what to wear, and her wardrobe was limited, so she’d gone for a plain black shirt dress and accessorised it with a bright red scarf around her throat. She’d pulled her hair back in a ponytail, trying to project an image that said friend and not lover. Except right now she felt as if her scarf was strangling her as Tiarnan came to a halt right in front of her. Too close. Especially when he took her hands and leant forward to kiss her on both cheeks.
His scent wound through her, and she felt that quiver between her legs again. He had his own very uniquely male scent. She’d always been aware of it. He was one of the few men she knew who didn’t douse himself in cologne. Kate had developed an acute sensitivity to smell after years of having to promote various perfumes, almost to the point that strong scents made her feel ill. But Tiarnan’s scent was simply soap and water and him. Headier than any manufactured scent.
He let her hands go and they tingled. He looked around her. ‘Where are your things?’
Kate fought to sound calm, aloof. ‘The concierge has my bag. I’ve arranged for a car to pick me up from here to go to the airport later.’
Tiarnan shook his head and took her by the elbow to lead her over to the desk. ‘That won’t be necessary.’
In shock, Kate heard him instruct the concierge to cancel the cab and get her bag. The man jumped straight away, clearly recognising Tiarnan. She rounded on him, incensed that he was already dictating. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’
He looked down at her, leaning nonchalantly against the concierge desk. ‘I have to go to the airport later too. You might as well come with me. It’ll give us more time together.’
Kate realised something then. Suspicion sparked from her eyes and she crossed her arms. ‘Where’s Rosie?’
Tiarnan straightened as Kate’s small case was delivered by the concierge, who all but bowed to Tiarnan.
He took Kate’s arm again, giving her no choice but to trot after him unless she wanted to create a scene. She felt slightly bewildered. She wasn’t used to seeing this side of Tiarnan. They emerged, and Kate saw a Range Rover and realised that he still hadn’t answered her question. He opened the passenger door and turned to her, the intense blue of his eyes rendering her speechless.
‘Rosie’s at home. I thought we’d have lunch there.’
She chafed at his easy dominance, at the feeling of being backed into a corner. Tiarnan still had a hand on her elbow and he helped her into the passenger seat. Then, after putting her case in the back, he came around and got into the front, pulling away from the hotel with smooth ease.
The journey to Tiarnan’s home didn’t take long. It was in the Salamanca area of Madrid, one of the oldest barrios and home to some of the most exclusive houses, shops and hotels. It was just off Calle de Serrano, near a charming park, where he turned into a set of huge wrought-iron gates which opened slowly.
Kate looked around her, seriously impressed. Madrid was one of her favourite cities—it always had been. She loved its vibrancy, its history, the café culture, and could spend days wandering around, taking in the museums and galleries. Even now, though it was well into autumn, people were strolling in the lingering warm sunshine. Tiarnan waited to let a woman pass with a baby in a pushchair, and Kate had a sudden vision of what it might be like to live here, have this life. Be that woman with the pushchair.
She glanced at Tiarnan’s profile as he drove forward when the gates were fully open. He looked distant, and not a little harsh. A shiver went through her even as she felt hot inside. He’d never be part of a dream like that. He’d made it clear a long time ago that as far as he was concerned he’d done the family thing. Sorcha had often told Kate how strongly Tiarnan felt about never marrying again. How Rosie had fulfilled any need he might have had for children.
‘Here we are.’
Kate’s turbulent thoughts came to an abrupt halt when she realised that they’d stopped outside a huge baroque townhouse. The colour of warm sandstone, it had a crumbling grandeur, with wooden shutters held back from gleaming windows. Bright flowers burst from ornate wrought-iron window box railings and from pots set around the steps and door. Trees surrounded the house, so that it seemed to nestle into the foliage. It was beautiful.
Tiarnan came around to join her. He carried her case in one hand. Kate asked suspiciously, ‘Why are you taking it out of the car?’
Tiarnan’s blue gaze mocked her for her suspicion. ‘Because my driver Juan will be taking us to the airport.’
‘But how do you know what time I have to be there?’ Kate was struggling not to give in to Tiarnan’s effortless domination.
His mouth quirked and her belly flipped.
‘Because I know everything, Kate. Stop worrying. I’m not going to jump on you like some callow youth. You’re quite safe.’
Just then the massive front door opened, and Kate saw a small dark-haired figure appear. Genuine emotion rushed through her. Tiarnan was forgotten for a moment.
‘Rosie!’
Kate started forward instinctively, but then faltered. Rosie wasn’t running to greet her as Kate remembered she’d used to do. She was standing there looking very serious. In an instant Kate curbed her instinct to go and hug Rosie, sensing that the child had changed since she’d seen her last. And it had been a while. Rosie hadn’t come to Molly’s christening. Instead, when Kate reached her she just smiled and bent to kiss her formally. She pulled back and looked into dark, wary eyes, wondering what had made her so cautious.
‘Rosie, you’re all grown up since I last saw you. You’re becoming quite the young lady.’
Kate couldn’t help tucking a strand of long dark hair behind her ear. Rosie’s cheeks flushed pink as she seemed to fight something, and then she mumbled an incoherent reply before turning and running back inside—presumably to her room.
Kate sensed Tiarnan behind her, sensed his impatience. ‘I’m sorry about that. Rosie is going through a difficult patch. She spent time with her mother recently, which never ends well.’
Kate’s heart went out to the child. She could remember her own trials and tribulations, how her mother hadn’t wanted anything to do with the fact that her daughter was growing and developing into a young woman. She could remember the turmoil she’d felt. Maybe Rosie was going through the same thing? From what Kate could remember, Stella Rios, Rosie’s mother, had never been warm.
She