Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman. Эбби Грин
tightened his arms around her. ‘Hey, are you cold?’
Jane immediately recoiled, surprised at the strength of her reaction. ‘No!’ she said, far too quickly, amending it with a smile. ‘No … just a little tired. Maybe if we could sit down again …’
As they approached the table another woman was leaving and waving gaily at Sherry, who turned gleaming eyes on Jane as she sat down. ‘You’ll never guess what I just found out.’
Jane obediently supplied, ‘What?’
The men took themselves off to the bar, muttering something about women and gossip. It made Jane cringe a little, but Sherry was leaning over the table, saying with a loud whisper, ‘That guy … the gorgeous hunk from earlier … well, don’t look now, but he’s behind you on the other side of the pool, and he’s been looking this way.’
Immediately Jane’s back straightened, and she started breathing faster. She just managed to stop herself from turning around, but Sherry was doing it for her, looking over Jane’s shoulder. A frown marred her pretty features,
‘Shoot—he’s gone. Oh, well … anyway, wait till you hear what I found out from Tilly Brown. He’s Mr Island!’ She looked at Jane as if to say, Don’t you get it? Jane just looked back blankly. What on earth did she mean?
Sherry sighed exaggeratedly. ‘He owns the island we were on today. He’s the billionaire. His name is—get this for a mouthful—Xavier Salgado-Lézille, and he owns this whole complex too. Can you believe that? To think that we saw him and didn’t know. I’m so dumb …’
Jane sat there stunned as Sherry chattered on. It made sense now—his presence, the authority he commanded. She recognised that he must have assumed she was a guest at the hotel. His reaction to her refusal earlier didn’t surprise her now. She doubted that many women would turn down someone like him.
‘And the best thing is,’ Sherry continued, pausing for dramatic effect, ‘he’s a bachelor. Well, actually a notorious playboy, incapable of commitment some say—they call him the Prince of Darkness because he’s so dark and brooding and—’
‘You really shouldn’t listen to idle gossip you know.’
The deep voice beside them could have cut through steel. They both looked up to find the object of their conversation beside the table. The epitome of wealth and sophistication in an impeccable tuxedo. The man who had loomed large in Jane’s imagination for two days now had a name—and an island, a hotel chain, a wine label, a reputation. Her head swirled. Sherry didn’t even have the grace to blush, but Jane did, horribly aware of how they must have looked, their heads close together like conspirators.
‘Why, Mr Salgado-Lézille—why don’t you join us?’
‘Please, Mr Salgado will do. The full name is such a … mouthful … if that’s the right term.’
Jane cringed, going even pinker with embarrassment, and she marvelled at Sherry’s hide, which was as thick as a rhinoceros. He flicked Sherry a dismissive glance and turned his attention to Jane, holding out a hand in a clear invitation to dance. She couldn’t refuse. Especially after what had just happened. Wordlessly she put her hand in his much larger one and felt a tingle go up her arm as he lightly guided her onto the dance floor.
Drawing into his arms, Jane fought for composure. The difference between this man and Pete from only a few moments ago was laughable. This was what she had been afraid of—this melting feeling, a hyper-awareness of every part of her skin, an acute consciousness of the way her body seemed to want to fuse with his. His scent was clean and crisp, with a hint of some indefinably erotic element. The man himself, she guessed.
One arm held her securely, high across her back, his hand curving around to just beside her breast. His other hand held hers lightly against his chest. They said nothing, swaying together in perfect unison. When the song ended he held her fast when she would have pulled away until another number started up.
‘Don’t you think you owe me at least one more dance?’
Jane lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. ‘Of … of course.’
His eyes glinted in the flickering light of the candles all around them, a small hard smile playing around his mouth.
As they started to move again she felt she had to say something, blurting out, ‘I’m sorry about Sherry … That is, I don’t even really know her. I’d hate for you to think that you were the subject of our …’ She trailed off, reminding herself that she had been listening to Sherry with bated breath. ‘I thought you were just one of the pilots …’
Even as the words came out she wanted to grab them back. But it was too late. She couldn’t mistake the cynical edge to his voice,
‘Ah … I should have known. It is much easier to accept a dance, or dinner for that matter, from the owner of a hotel rather than just a pilot.’
She pulled back as far as he would allow, every line in her body indignant. ‘I didn’t mean it like that … that had nothing to do with anything, Mr Salgado. The reason I declined your invitation earlier was because—’ She broke off. As if she could tell him that the reason she’d turned him down was because her reaction to him had scared the life out of her.
‘Well?’ he prompted softly, one dark brow lifted.
‘I … I, well, as you can see I had made arrangements with Sherry and Brad.’ She crossed her fingers, hating the lie, but self-preservation was more important. ‘I’m not actually staying here … I’m alone, staying at a friend’s villa on the hill. I ended up on the day trip by mistake earlier, and they invited me for dinner.’
It wasn’t a complete lie, she reassured herself. Their invitation had just come after his.
He frowned slightly. ‘The tour manager told me about someone who had inadvertently ended up on a trip coming in afterwards to pay … was that you?’
‘I guess so … unless there was someone else.’
‘Quite an enigma, aren’t you? Miss …?’
‘Vaughan. Jane Vaughan.’
He stepped back for a moment and made a courteous bow, taking her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Vaughan.’
And then he kissed her hand. She could feel his lips firm and yet soft against her skin, and the fluttering excitement grew stronger in her belly.
‘Let’s start again,’ he said, in a low seductive voice, tucking her into him even closer than before.
Jane fought an internal battle for a few seconds and then gave in. It was too strong … this … whatever it was that she was feeling. She allowed her head to fall into the crook of his neck and shoulder, closing her eyes. A perfect fit.
His hand on her back was moving in slow sensuous circles, grazing her bare skin. She could feel her breasts grow heavier, sensitive against the material of her dress. When he shifted subtly she could feel the thrust of his arousal low against her belly. She pulled back for a second, but Xavier felt it and caught her even closer, growling into her ear, ‘You can’t move now. Everyone will see what you’re doing to me.’
Jane blushed scarlet to the roots of her hair. The next few minutes were an exercise in erotic torture. She had never felt anything like this in her life. Completely unaware of everyone around them. Burning up.
Finally, when she feared her very legs weren’t capable of holding her up any more, he pulled back, but held onto her hand. Dark green eyes glittered into blue ones.
‘Let’s get out of here.’
She nodded mutely. She was being swept away on a tidal wave of feelings and sensations. Sanity tried to break through her consciousness but she pushed it aside. She couldn’t let this second chance slip away.
They were in the alcove that led outside to the front of