Alejandro's Revenge (15 page)

‘I'm—I'm sure it would be delightful,' she said honestly. ‘But we hardly know one another. I couldn't—'

‘Okay.' Without another word he released her. And as Abby hovered uncertainly by the glass doors, not sure how—or even if—she should proceed, she heard a sudden splash behind her and realised Alejandro had dived into the pool.

She turned then, unable to prevent herself, and was just in time to see Alejandro's dark head appear above the water. He swept back his hair with a careless hand and then grinned in a way that sent a coil of heat into the pit of her stomach.
‘Dios,'
he said ruefully, ‘I am not in good shape. I must start taking regular exercise again.'

Abby thought that was something of an exaggeration. From what she'd seen, Alejandro was in very good shape indeed. All he was trying to do was make her feel better about herself. Perhaps he suspected that the real reason she hadn't accepted his invitation was because she was intensely conscious of being several pounds overweight.

‘Is the water cold?' she asked, unable to force herself to leave him and go into the house.

‘Try it,' he said, and she stepped forward and squatted down on the tiled surround. She dipped her hand into the water and found it wasn't cold at all, just soft and inviting. How she wished she had the guts to join him. This might be her only chance to swim in the nude.

But such thoughts seemed a betrayal of all she'd ever tried to teach her brother. Abby straightened, and Alejandro swam to the side to look up at her with an enquiring gaze. ‘What are you afraid of,
cara
?' he asked. ‘I promise I will keep my distance. I will even allow you to keep on your underwear, if that will satisfy your modest little soul.'

Abby expelled a breath, remembering that her underwear was barely worthy of the name. Her cream lace bra and matching panties had been designed with tantalisation in mind, not
modesty. She had the feeling she'd feel more exposed in them than in her bare skin.

‘You don't understand,' she said at last, her breasts rising and falling rapidly with the agitation she was feeling. ‘I'm not like you, Alejandro. I'm not used to getting undressed in front of strangers.'

‘And you think I am?' he queried gently. ‘
Querida
, I thought I was making it easier for you. Contrary to your suspicions, I do not make a habit of taking my clothes off in public. But we are alone here. There are no eyes watching us. No eyes watching
you
. Only mine.'

And that was what she was afraid of.

And yet…

What did she really have to lose? she asked herself. She wasn't a virgin. True, her only experience of sex had been in the back seat of a car, and that had ended almost as soon as it had begun. But she wasn't afraid. Only afraid of getting hurt—emotionally hurt, she acknowledged unhappily. Alejandro Varga was like no man she had ever known. And in a few short days he had unknowingly captured her heart.

A
S IF
abandoning any further attempt to persuade her, Alejandro turned and swam leisurely away from her. The movement caused the water to ripple along the edge of the pool below her, fragmenting the underwater lighting like shards of glass. And exposing the paler shade of his buttocks, taut and firm beneath the surface.

Abby sucked in a breath and, unable to stop herself, she took one foot out of her shoe and tested the temperature of the water again. As before, it felt lukewarm, still retaining the heat from that day's sun. Without giving herself time to have second thoughts, she stepped out of her shoes and unbuttoned the ice-green jacket of her two-piece. Shedding it onto the tiled surround, she dropped her skirt, too, and quickly slipped into the water.

Despite its apparent warmth, that initial plunge almost took her breath away. But she didn't think about that. Didn't think about anything—particularly not Alejandro. Kicking away from the side, she swam smoothly across the pool.

She was aware that Alejandro must have felt the movement in the water, but she didn't allow herself to speculate on what might happen now. This was her last night in Miami; her last chance to do something reckless. Tomorrow she would be sane and sensible again. And what could be more sane and sensible than getting on the plane back home?

The pool was perhaps five feet in depth around the rim, but it swiftly sloped away to deeper water. It was long, too, easily seventy-five feet, surrounded at the far end by lush greenery, the petals of a magnolia floating like stars upon the water.

When Alejandro surfaced some six feet away from where she was standing she couldn't prevent one hand from spread
ing almost protectively across her chest. She was uneasily aware that her bra and panties were virtually transparent now that they were wet, and looked just as provocatively suggestive as she'd imagined.

‘You changed your mind,' he said, not coming any closer, and she wondered if that was for her benefit or his. Beneath the surface his skin gleamed darkly, and she had to force herself not to speculate about what she couldn't see.

‘I was hot,' she said, as if that was an answer. ‘You don't mind, do you?' Which was a ridiculous question to ask.

‘Why should I mind?' he queried, his lips tilting humorously. ‘You are free to do what you like in my home.' But his eyes darkened as he looked at her, and she was suddenly aware of how impulsive she'd been in taking off her clothes.

‘It's a big pool,' she said foolishly, desperate to say something,
anything
, to deflect the deepening awareness between them, and he shook his head, flicking droplets of water in all directions.

‘Size is not everything,' he remarked drily. ‘I believe that is what they say. Personally, I think it depends what you are talking about,
no
?'

Abby felt her face grow warm with colour. Although he wasn't touching her, his words brushed seductively across her skin. It was so easy for him to embarrass her. She'd never met anyone who played these verbal games so well.

‘Well, I think it's a big pool,' she insisted, trying to ignore his amusement. ‘It's bigger than the one at the Esquivals', anyway. And deeper, too, I should imagine. How deep is it, actually?'

Alejandro's mouth compressed for a moment, and then, to her dismay, he swam lazily across the space between them. ‘The pool is twenty-five metres in length, and it is four metres at its deepest point,' he told her solemnly. His feet touched the tiles as he straightened. ‘And I know what you are trying to do.'

Abby recoiled, but with the edge of the pool at her back she didn't have far to go. ‘I'm trying to show an interest in
my surroundings,' she replied defensively. ‘You may be used to—to all this, but I'm not.'

Alejandro put one hand on the rim at either side of her, successfully imprisoning her within the circle of his arms. ‘No,' he said softly, his eyes warm and invasive, ‘you are trying to distract me. You think if you babble on about the pool and its size I will forget the reason why I brought you here.' His gaze dropped to the revealing cleavage of her bra, where her treacherous nipples strained against the lace. ‘
Ni hablar, cara
. No way. I am a man, and I would not be human if I did not want to make love to you.'

Abby tried to keep calm. ‘I thought you invited me to swim in the pool,' she said, resisting the urge she had to try and cover herself. ‘That's why I'm here, anyway.'

‘Ah, cara…'
His lips twisted. ‘I did not know you could be such a liar.' One hand moved and curved knowingly about her nape, his thumb catching in the gold hoop she wore in her ear and tugging almost cruelly. ‘Do you not know that your body is betraying you? That it is almost as eager as I to cast off these—' one finger slid the strap of her bra off her shoulder ‘—these unnecessary sops to your conscience,
no
?'

Abby's fingers moved to restore the strap to her shoulder, but Alejandro was quicker. With ruthless efficiency his hand dipped behind her back and unfastened the clasp, so that her breasts tumbled free of the confining lace.

That was too much. ‘Don't!' she exclaimed in a panicked voice. ‘You're wrong about me. I didn't come here to—to sleep with you. I—don't do things like that.'

‘Who said anything about sleeping?' countered Alejandro, lowering his head and covering her anxious lips with his. The hair on his chest brushed provocatively against her nipples and her breath caught in her throat. ‘
Ah, querida, te deseo.
I want you.
Besame, cara.
Kiss me.
Quiero hacerte el amor.'

Abby felt the weakness of her own defences. The reality of his nude body against hers was more sensual than she had ever dreamed. Around them, the water ebbed and flowed, sensitising her skin in ways she had never known before. Its cool
ness lapped like silk about her shoulders, moving as he was moving, letting her feel the heat that their bodies were creating. When he tossed her bra onto the side she was almost grateful for the freedom it gave her.

Then his lips were on hers again, his tongue slipping between her teeth and making its own possession. The kiss deepened, lengthened, robbed her of breath so that she could only cling to his arms for support. Hot and unashamedly sexual, his mouth plundered hers hungrily, his tongue invading and retreating in a dance as old as time.

Abby was incapable of resisting him. She felt his hands beneath the water, shaping the curve of her waist, caressing the rounded swell of her bottom. She was suddenly desperate to be free of the scrap of lace that prevented him from touching her there, and when Alejandro found the high leg of her panties and probed beneath she whimpered. The wet petals spread eagerly to admit his searching fingers and a pulse beat hotly between her legs.

‘Oh, my God,' she groaned shakily, unable to prevent herself from crying out, and Alejandro's face filled with satisfaction as he pressed the offending garment down her legs.

‘Better?' he asked huskily, the throbbing heat of his arousal nudging her mound. And when she could only nod her agreement, he tucked his hands beneath her bottom and lifted her against him.

Abby wound her legs about his waist, but although it pleased her to feel his erection touching her aching core, it was not what Alejandro wanted.

‘Not here,' he said. ‘Not like this,
cara
. I want to love you, Abigail. But I want to lay you on my bed, to look at you, to show how much I want you.'

At that moment Abby thought she would have been content if he'd pushed his way inside her there and then. She'd never felt this desire for a man before, and the needs he'd inspired inside her—had been inspiring inside her, actually, since they'd first met—demanded an immediate response.

When he lifted her onto the side of the pool she knew he
was tempted. For a moment he moved between her thighs, took her breasts in his hands. Then, as she trembled at his touch, he took one swollen nipple into his mouth, tugging on it with his lips and tongue until she was throbbing all over.

Each nipple received the same treatment, and by the time he sprang out of the pool and drew her to her feet she could barely stand. Her legs were weak and her senses felt as if they were as taut as violin strings. Seeing him, aroused and magnificent, was no turn-off. Springing proudly from its nest of hair, his manhood was as powerful as he was.

‘Come,' he said, taking her hand and starting towards the house, and when she stumbled he turned back and swung her into his arms.
‘Pobrecita,'
he whispered, his lips finding the vulnerable curve of her nape. ‘Am I going too fast for you? I want this to be as good for you as it is for me.'

Alejandro carried her into the house and up the stairs, apparently uncaring that neither of them was wearing any clothes. Abby, who had admired the soaring ceiling of the reception area earlier, barely noticed it now. The exquisite crystal chandelier, whose lamps had been muted since their arrival, shone down on a scene more unreal than any she had ever imagined. But Abby's eyes were focused on Alejandro, on the lean, aristocratic lines of his dark face as he mounted the stairs without effort, taking them to the upper floor.

His bedroom was just as opulent. A huge square bed occupied a central position, with several chairs grouped beneath the wide windows. There were shaded lamps and concealed lighting up near the moulded ceiling, but Alejandro turned off the switch as he came through the door. Now only two or three bulbs provided a subtle illumination, highlighting the satin coverlet, creating shadows in the corners of the room.

When he laid her down, the coverlet clung to her shoulders. ‘I'm wet,' she protested, but Alejandro's response was merely to stretch his length beside her on the bed.

‘I know,' he said, one hand playing sensuously across her stomach and sliding briefly down between her thighs. ‘I can feel it here.'

‘That—that wasn't what I meant,' she got out breathlessly, and he smiled.

‘I know,' he said again. ‘But our skin will dry soon enough. Between us we will generate enough heat to drain the pool,
no
?'

Abby quivered. ‘Alejandro—'

‘Relax,' he told her softly, bending to bestow a line of kisses that followed the passage of his hand. With the utmost patience, he eased her shaking legs apart and licked her with obvious enjoyment. ‘You are as delicious as you look,' he added, sliding back to share his explorations with her, and she could taste the spicy heat of her arousal on his tongue.

Her head swam as he continued to kiss her, but he seemed determined to prolong her delight. Every inch of her flesh—her limbs, her shoulders, her breasts—all received his sensual ministrations, and Abby reached for him mindlessly, eager to end this torment that was both a pleasure and a pain.

But Alejandro was in no hurry, and it was only when she captured him between her palms and caressed his silky length that he moaned in protest.
‘Es inútil, cara,'
he whispered achingly. ‘It is no good. I must have you.' And, easing her legs wider, he moved between her thighs.

And then swore.

Softly, but distinctly. The word he used was unfamiliar to her, but Abby knew it wasn't good.
‘Caray,'
he added, less violently. ‘I have left my wallet by the pool.'

Abby blinked, confused. ‘Your wallet?' she echoed. ‘But surely you can trust your—'

‘That is not what I mean,' he said thickly. ‘I have no protection here.' He raked back his hair with a savage hand. ‘
Mierda
, I will have to go downstairs.'

‘Oh, no, please…' Abby thought she wouldn't be able to bear it if he left her now. ‘It's all right,' she told him frantically. ‘I—I can handle it. Just—just don't leave me, please.'

 

Now, two years later, lying chilled and sleepless in her bed, Abby acknowledged for the first time that Alejandro hadn't
been totally to blame for what had happened next. How had she blotted that out of her mind? Oh, he hadn't been completely honest with her about the fact that he was still married, however unstable that marriage had been, or made any attempt to see her again after she'd gone back to England. But he had believed she was more experienced than she was. He'd probably imagined that she was taking the Pill.

Whatever, her words had evidently reassured him, because he hadn't hesitated any longer. He'd entered her in one swift thrust that had had her catching her breath. He'd been so big, so thick, he'd filled her completely. She'd been halfway to an orgasm before he'd started to move.

She hadn't known that then, of course. Her previous encounter had given her no reason to believe that there was more to sex than the excitement Alejandro had engendered this far. Even the undeveloped sensations she'd had when he'd pulled back, before surging into her again, had had her arching towards him more in need than expectation. The feelings that had been building inside her were tantalising but, she'd believed, unreachable. The incredible truth of her own sexuality had yet to dawn on her.

That it had, in such a fantastic fashion, had been all due to Alejandro, she admitted painfully. She recalled him kissing her and caressing her as he drove them both to the very peak of sensual fulfilment. He'd been sweating, she remembered, his eyes dark and passionate, gleaming as he'd shared her breathless climb. She'd cried out as she'd reached her climax, only seconds before he'd collapsed, shuddering, in her arms. And feeling his hot seed spilling inside her had renewed the feeling, sending her shattering into a million shards of light…

She shuddered now, the memories suddenly too painful to rekindle. Had she really been that frantic, that naïve, that desperate? She'd been like moulding clay in his hands, only far more responsive to his touch.