The Secret Sanchez Heir. Cathy Williams

that to happen. Maybe she would now rethink the choices she had made but she would do that coolly and calmly. That settled her and she relaxed a little. She thought about his question. A man in her life? She wanted to burst out laughing because, between work and motherhood, she barely had time to breathe, never mind deal with the complications of a relationship. Not that she had been tempted anyway.

      ‘No, Leandro,’ she said coolly. ‘I didn’t rush back to London and immediately get involved with your replacement. I’ve been busy trying to get my career going.’

      ‘And no time left to jump back into the dating scene?’ Leandro murmured.

      ‘Unlike you.’ Abigail couldn’t resist the dig. Not only had he jumped right back into the dating scene but he had become so involved with a woman that she had actually been led to believe that marriage was on the cards. She turned away, angry with herself for feeling hurt and jealous.

      ‘But it didn’t work,’ Leandro said softly. He reached out and circled her wrist with his hand. He stroked her skin with his thumb and Abigail wanted to moan and drag her hand away but she didn’t do either. Instead, she froze.

      ‘Want to know something?’ he asked as his thumb continued to do its damage. ‘I understood why when I saw you today, Abby.’

      ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she croaked, and he smiled crookedly at her.

      ‘Yes, you do,’ he corrected gently. ‘I can feel the way you’re trembling right now. You’re still in my system. It doesn’t make any sense, because you’re the last woman I should still be interested in taking to bed, but against all odds you are. Do you think it’s because what we had ended under such...bizarre circumstances?’

      He sounded genuinely curious and his voice was calm, neutral and conversational. In fact, she had to sift through what he had just said and replay it in her head just to establish that she hadn’t misheard it.

      That he still wanted to take her to bed!

      She tugged her hand and he tightened his grip on it and focused on her, his fabulous eyes lazy with intent. ‘Now you’re going to tell me that you have no idea what I’m talking about, aren’t you? Maybe you’ll express horror that I could even suggest such a thing. Am I on the right track?’

      Spot on, Abigail thought. She licked her lips and tried to still her racing pulse. He was still the sexiest man she had ever laid eyes on in her life, but she was not attracted to him. Because you couldn’t possibly be attracted to a man who had insulted, offended and disbelieved you. That just didn’t make sense.

      But her skin was prickling and dampness had pooled between her legs. Fascinated and mesmerised, she stared at him, sucked in by the low, honeyed seductiveness of his voice.

      Leandro could feel the racing of her pulse under his thumb. Her skin was so soft and his recall of her so clear. Just touching her like this made him remember how it had felt to touch her all over, to hear the little cries and whimpers she’d made as she climbed towards an orgasm, the way she’d moved and wriggled under him. He was so turned on he had to adjust his stance to try and subdue the discomfort of his arousal.

      His eyes drifted downwards to her parted lips.

      Abigail knew that he was going to kiss her before his mouth covered hers and her body strained towards his, as natural an instinct as a flower leaning towards a source of light. His lips, when they touched hers, detonated a series of little thrilling explosions inside her. She wanted him. She’d never stopped wanting him. She hated him and was terrified of being here, in his company, carrying a secret she knew could be as devastating as dynamite, yet she couldn’t get enough of his kiss.

      With a helpless little groan, her fingers curled into his jumper and she angrily pulled him towards her even as he propelled her towards the wall without breaking physical contact.

      His hands were hot and hungry on her, reaching to tug the prissy white shirt free from her trousers, then pushing underneath the shirt to cup her breasts and massage them until her nipples were pushing against the lace in a desperate bid to be caressed.

      Leandro was shocked at how fabulously familiar her body was and even more shocked at how novel he still found the experience. Familiarity, in this instance, was showing no signs of breeding contempt.

      He wanted, he needed more than just some schoolboy groping through a bra, and he discovered that his hands were shaking as he undid the tiny pearl buttons of her blouse. Given the option, he would have ripped the thing open, so desperate was he to suckle what his hands were touching, but taking his time at least had the advantage of imposing some control on his runaway libido.

      Buttons finally undone, he delicately peeled aside her blouse and lifted her bra, pushing it up so that her generous breasts were on show.

      ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said in a ragged undertone. He held her breasts in his big hands and rubbed his thumbs over her nipples, watching as they promptly stood to attention, the pink tips hardening and peaking under the caress. He looked at her. ‘I want you so much it hurts,’ he confessed, and Abigail shuddered because this couldn’t be more wrong and yet it felt so right. ‘Tell me right now that you don’t want me back...’