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Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman


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horrified eyes to his. ‘I can’t just leave … I’m with people … Pete.’

      How could she have forgotten and be so unquestionably rude? No matter what wild spirit seemed to have taken her over, there was no excuse for leaving so abruptly. And, more to the point, the fact that this man had made her take leave of her senses so easily caused a panicky sensation in her belly.

      Xavier’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at her and took in her expressive face. He had forgotten about her companions too … all he had been aware of was getting her out of there to some private place where he could explore that lush mouth and—

      ‘I’m sorry, Mr Salgado—’

      ‘Xavier, please …’

      She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. ‘I’ll have to go back to the others. I really can’t just run out on them like this.’

      She hoped that the regret in her voice didn’t sound too obvious. But the heavy disappointment in her chest dispelled any panic. He’d wouldn’t indulge her again. No doubt he thought she must be playing some game with him. She watched with dismay as he seemed to concur.

      ‘You are right. It would be remiss of me to take you away. But be under no illusion that if you weren’t obliged to return then right now I would be doing this …’

      Before she knew what was happening he had pulled her close, one arm around her back, the other cradling her head, covering her mouth with his. Taking advantage of her startled sigh, he expertly plundered the moist interior, exploring, tracing her lips. When his tongue sought and found hers, stroking with sure mastery, a white-hot flame of desire raced through her body. Her hands clenched on his shoulders in reaction. She was lost in the moment … and in him.

      Reluctantly Xavier lifted his head to look down. She took a second to open glazed eyes, lashes long against her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted slightly. He felt the tremor in the body held tightly against his. She would be his, of that he had no doubt. He had branded her.

      Jane stepped back and tried to control her breathing, just managing to stop herself from bringing a hand up to feel her lips. Crazily, she felt as if he had just marked her in some way. She had heard about kisses like that, and thought it was some pathetic fantasy, or Lisa waxing lyrical about her latest obsession … but it wasn’t. If he hadn’t stopped when he had …

      She had been reduced to mush by little more than a kiss.

      ‘Yes … well … I … have to …’

      ‘Have lunch with me tomorrow.’

       He still wanted to see her?

      She looked at him helplessly. She felt like a moth that was being attracted to a flame with danger written all over it, but the pull was so inexorable that she couldn’t help herself. She took a deep breath. The new Jane. Quash the panic. She felt shaky.

      ‘I’d like that.’

      ‘Which villa are you staying at?’

      She told him the address.

      ‘Bien. I will pick you up at midday … till then.’

      He strode back into the lobby and got into the lift without a backward glance.

      Jane wandered back out to the poolside table in a daze. Sherry squealed when she saw her arrive. Remarkably, the men still hadn’t returned from the bar. Jane felt as though whole lifetimes had passed since Xavier had asked her to dance.

      She fielded Sherry’s questions, being as vague as possible. When the men arrived back poor Pete didn’t stand a chance. He tried to press a kiss to her lips before she left at the end of the evening, but she gave him her cheek. Somehow the thought of anyone else kissing her where Xavier had was anathema.

      She didn’t see the look of triumph on the face of the man watching from his penthouse suite overlooking the pool.

      Back in the villa, Jane couldn’t settle and went up to the terrace which overlooked the twinkling lights of the town below, still feeling slightly dazed. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, who she hoped was enjoying much the same view. She was on her honeymoon in Cyprus, with Arthur, the man she’d met a year previously. Jane thought of the recent wedding day with a smile. How proud she had been to give her mother away to such a kind, gentle man. If anyone deserved another stab at happiness it was she.

      Since her father had died at just thirty, leaving her mother penniless, with Jane still a baby, it had been a monumental struggle. Her mother had changed overnight from a relatively carefree newlywed to a woman who had had to seek work to make ends meet. Sometimes she worked three jobs at once, just to put food on the table and get Jane through school and then college, despite Jane working too to help out.

      Even when Jane had finished her degree and had begun working as a teacher her mother had refused money, insisting that she build up a nest egg for herself.

      Years of worry and work had sapped her mother’s joy and increased Jane’s concern. But now … now she was allowing herself to feel love and happiness again, and if she could embrace a new lease on life then so could Jane.

      Starting tomorrow.

      With a shiver of anticipation snaking down her spine she finally left the view.

      Chapter Three

      WHEN she woke the next morning Jane couldn’t believe she had slept at all—much less for … She consulted her watch in disbelief—ten hours straight. Which meant, she realised with a lurch of panic, that she had exactly one hour before Xavier was due to pick her up for lunch.

      She sprang out of bed and after a quick shower regarded her wardrobe, plucking a pair of white culottes from the messy pile, and a striped white and black halterneck top. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, and with espadrilles and a pair of hoop earrings was just about ready to go downstairs when the doorbell rang.

      Already!

      She took a few deep breaths and walked to the front door, trying to calm the butterflies in her belly.

      Be cool, be calm, be sophisticated.

      She opened the door, the smile on her face fading and her mouth going dry when she took in the man in front of her. Pure devastation. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest, showing his muscles off to perfection. He wore a casually faded black T-shirt and jeans, scuffed deck shoes on his bare feet. She could feel her face colour as she brought her eyes back up. She had just examined him … and blatantly!

      She couldn’t see his eyes, as they were hidden behind dark shades, but she saw all too well the way his mouth quirked.

      ‘I hope I pass inspection?’

      What could she do? She had been caught out beautifully. She had to smile, revealing small, even white teeth and a dimple in her cheek.

      ‘You’ll do.’

      She bent down to pick up her bag, where she’d stuffed her bikini and a sarong among other bits and pieces, not sure what he had planned, and pulled the door behind her, careful to lock it securely. He took the bag from her and led the way to his car. She was glad to see that although it was a convertible it wasn’t one of those tiny low-slung things that she privately thought looked ridiculous.

      As he negotiated his way down the small winding streets with casual expertise she started to relax and look around. She was very aware of his tanned hands on the wheel, moving to the gear-stick near her leg, and of the long fingers with short square nails. She swallowed and quickly put on the shades that had been resting on her head in case he caught her staring again.

      ‘How long are you here for?’ he asked idly.

      ‘Just another week; I’ve already been here for one. This is such a treat.’

      ‘What is?’

      Nerves made her babble. ‘To be taken out … driven around. I have a