The Twelve-Month Marriage Deal (7 page)

She looked at him for many long seconds before laughing. ‘I would assume it’s a physical impossibility.’

‘Would you care to prove it?’ he challenged, keeping his voice light.

‘Maybe if ours was a real marriage then I would.’ There was a glint of mischief in her amazing liquid-gold eyes that made him draw in a swift and uneven breath. ‘But since it’s all make-believe I’ll decline the offer, thank you. Especially as I can see your gardener heading towards us.’

Vidal cursed beneath his breath. Elena was right. Marcelo was marching determinedly their way. For once in his life Vidal wished that he lived alone—entirely alone. Then he could make love to the magnificent Elena all day long if he so wished.

Maybe they
should
have gone away on honeymoon—except that only today he had received further reports on her parents’ bank and they were not good. Immediate action was necessary if a catastrophe was to be avoided.

Elena did not know whether to be sad or sorry that Vidal’s gardener needed to speak to him. The more they were together, the more he turned her on, the more she felt that her body wouldn’t let her down a second time. She wasn’t in love with him or anything stupid like that, it was simply that he had the most amazingly toned body, and the most charismatic eyes she had ever seen.

His eyes told her a lot, even though he might not know it, turning a whole different range of greys according to his mood. She hadn’t learned all of them yet, but she was getting there. They had already gone from tempered steel to erotic silver. One end of the spectrum to the other. One end of his mood swings to the other. It would be interesting to find out what happened in between.

Vidal’s conversation with his gardener lasted so long that Elena grew tired and climbed out of the pool, striding decisively towards the changing rooms she had spotted earlier. She was conscious of the men’s conversation stopping, conscious too of Vidal’s eyes watching her—so she walked that little bit taller, swaying her hips, behaving like the siren she had never been before.

What had got into her she didn’t know, nevertheless it felt good. She was actually beginning to feel like a
different person here. As though a temptress had climbed inside and taken her skin. It felt wickedly decadent. Perhaps this was the way to play the part? The only way she could cope with marriage to a man she did not love?

Elena was in the middle of showering when she sensed Vidal’s approach. His footsteps were silent, but the air changed. It thickened and she froze, stilling her movements.

He did not call her name, he simply appeared.

In the shower with her!

Stark naked!

‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked when he slid his arms around her waist and pulled her hard against him. Thighs against thighs, the roughness of his chest hairs against the softness of her breasts. The hardness of his erection against her pelvis. Elena wasn’t sure whether to protest or enjoy.

She was given little option when the next second a firm, long-fingered hand cupped her chin and turned her face up to his where his waiting lips greedily captured hers.

‘Mmm,’ he groaned deep in his throat, thrusting one thigh between hers. ‘You taste divine, Elena.’

As did he! He tasted of male hunger, and he promised hot sex. Which meant she either got out now—or not at all.

Unconsciously she moved her body closer, feeling his hard maleness against her own softer femininity, and in that moment of weakness the decision had been made for her. Of their own accord her lips parted, her head falling back on her shoulders, and nothing mat
tered now except the power and passion, the strength and sensuality that Vidal wielded over her.

‘Not only do you taste good, but you feel good,
mi amor.
’

His voice was little more than a growl and Elena responded with a groan of her own. It took her several more seconds to realise that he was no longer kissing her.

He was not even touching her!

She opened her eyes, at first seeing nothing but hot glittering silver, but when she took in the wider view she realised that his legs were braced and his hands were on the wall either side of her. She was in a human cage where to move was to touch him, where not to move was swiftly becoming torture.

Water coursed across his back and along the tensed muscles of his arms, running down his magnificent torso, flattening his dark chest hairs, making her want to touch, to stroke, to feel his strength—but there was something strangely taboo about it at this moment.

He was the captor, she was his prisoner. He was the dominant male. She was his to play with as he liked. And heavens, did she want him to play with her. Every female hormone that she possessed was clamouring for release, and the longer he stood there not touching, the more potent they became.

‘Vidal…’ she whispered tentatively.

‘Vidal, what?’

The question came from somewhere deep in his throat and Elena fancied that she could feel the vibration. A further tremor shivered through her limbs. ‘Nothing,’ she managed, shaking her head, wanting to
turn her eyes from his, but they were held there by a magnetic force over which she had no power.

‘Were you perhaps asking me to kiss you—like this?’ With his eyes still holding hers he stroked gentle fingers down her cheek, tracing her shape with inconceivable slowness, creating a whole host of sensations, before trailing those same incredibly knowing fingers at a snail’s pace down the arch of her throat, pausing on the fluttering pulse at its base, exploring its erratic beat before returning to tip up her chin.

His face came down to hers like a dark angel, fear and excitement threatened to overspill, and Elena could contain herself no longer. She met his lips with an eagerness she feared regretting later. Hunger took over. Vidal had created a storm inside her—one that only he could assuage.

‘You are aware of where this kiss will lead?’ His hoarse voice pulsed against her mouth. ‘You are prepared? Because there’ll be no backing out this time. You’ll be my wife, my woman, totally and completely.’

Elena hardly took in what he was saying. His touch, the powerful feel of his lips, had drugged her, made her insensitive to everything except the feel of him against her hungry body. She wanted more than his kisses, she wanted him inside her. Now! No man had ever driven her to such hunger before. It was almost unbearable.

‘I’m yours,’ she whispered.

The groan in Vidal’s throat echoed triumphantly in the enclosed space. His kiss burned into her senses, creating a crescendo of feelings that threatened to
explode. The fact that they were in the shower was forgotten, she hardly felt the harsh jets of water pounding their bodies.

Vidal’s lips against hers, Vidal’s tongue tasting and inciting, they were her world. Vidal’s hands now drawing her close to him, urging her against the exciting hardness of his arousal. Sending her as high as if she were on drugs.

Elena felt as though she had been elevated into a world reserved for senses only. An ethereal world where the human form was banned, where feelings and pleasure were the order of the day. She felt weightless and mindless and when Vidal’s strong fingers splayed across her bottom, lifting and urging her over him, when he entered her with incredible gentleness—making sure there was no barrier this time—every sane thought disappeared.

Sensations such as she had experienced with no man before spun through her, contorting her limbs, making her grip Vidal’s shoulders so hard that she expected her nails might draw blood.

Vidal’s thrusts grew more urgent with every second that passed. She dared open her eyes to look into his face and saw that he was as far gone as she was. His eyes were glazed, his mouth almost grim. Then even as she watched his expression changed, his face screwed into agony—and she could look no more.

She too was experiencing the same painful explosion of feelings. They screamed through the part of her that he had made his own. They filled her with golden light and sparkling stars and a need to keep him thrusting against her. Wave after wave of intense emotional feelings shuddered through every inch of her.

It was all and more than she had expected from Vidal’s lovemaking. If this was what marriage to him was going to be like, then perhaps twelve months wouldn’t be too long after all.

V
IDAL
found it hard to believe that Elena had turned into such a fiery sex goddess. Earlier in the shower—when he hadn’t expected it, when he had given her a get-out option even though it had killed him to offer it—she had finally given him her everything. She had responded far more fiercely, far more fully than he had ever anticipated.

Now it was the end of the day and they were in bed and had just made spectacular love again. Elena was proving insatiable, like no other woman he had met. He was a lucky man; this could have all ended so differently.

‘I have to go into the office early tomorrow,’ he told her gently, stroking a stray strand of hair from her forehead. ‘Don’t miss me too much.’

‘I could come with you. You did say you could find me work.’

He looked into her soulful dark eyes. ‘I did,’ he agreed, ‘but that was before I got to know you. I think you’ll prove more of a distraction than a help and I don’t want to be distracted.’ He stroked a firm finger down her nose. ‘Have you any idea how beautiful you
are? How hard I find it to think of anything other than you here in my bed?’

When she caught his finger and pressed it to her lips, sucking it gently into her mouth, he groaned and gathered her against him again and the rest of the night passed in a blur of lovemaking and sleep.

Elena woke to find the bed at her side empty. She glanced at the clock and gave a tiny squeal. Nine-thirty! Why hadn’t someone woken her? She’d had the most beautiful dream. She had dreamt that her marriage to Vidal was real and for ever. How crazy was that?

How could it be permanent when they both knew so differently? When she had been coerced into this marriage and Vidal had insisted on his conjugal rights? Why had she given in? Why did he have to be such an expert lover? Why had he made her feel as though she were special and actually meant something to him?

The problem was she’d never before had a purely physical relationship. She didn’t believe in them. Maybe she was old-fashioned, but she felt that love and sex went hand in hand. Not sex for the sake of it.

And yet she was guilty of doing precisely that.

So what did it make her?

She didn’t want to think about it. She sprang out of bed and hurried to take a shower, but that was a mistake because all it did was remind her of yesterday. With a swift shake of her head she towelled herself dry. What she was going to do with herself all day while Vidal was at work she didn’t know. Perhaps visit her parents? See how her mother was?

In the end she decided against it, phoning instead, reassuring herself that they were all right. And after lunch
when she was sitting in the shade of one of the trees by the pool she had a visitor.

‘Fernan!’ More than pleased to see Vidal’s brother, she flung her arms around him.

‘Now there’s an unexpected welcome,’ he said with a grin. ‘Where’s Vidal? Is he around? I don’t want him getting jealous.’

‘He’s at work,’ said Elena, and there must have been something in her voice because he looked at her sharply.

‘He’s neglecting you already? I thought you’d at least have gone away on honeymoon?’

Elena flashed him an impatient glance. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, Fernan. You know the story.’

He lifted his shoulders and his dark eyes met hers. ‘I know that in theory it’s an arranged marriage, but you have stars in your eyes, Elena. Don’t tell me you’re falling for my big brother already?’

She shook her head in an explosive denial. ‘There’s no chance of that.’

Fernan’s brows rose. He was so like Vidal: the same stature; the same level of haughtiness; the same intelligence. They were even similar-looking except that Fernan’s eyes were dark brown, not the intense silver of Vidal’s.

‘We’re getting on well,’ she admitted, ‘but make no mistake, everything’s under control. Like I told you before, I have my own life to lead after this. I’m not letting anything interfere with that.’

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ he said, taking both her hands into his and smiling into her eyes. ‘How’s Reina, by the way? Have you heard from her?’

‘Sadly, no,’ answered Elena. ‘I expect she’ll turn up
in her own good time.’ It troubled her that her sister had disappeared and no one knew where she was.

He nodded. ‘I hope so, for your sake, for your family’s sake. I dropped by to tell you that I’m flying to New York tomorrow. I wanted to make sure you and Vidal weren’t killing each other first. Clearly you’re not. Though I still think a caution is in order. My brother can be very persuasive when he sets his mind to it. Don’t let yourself get drawn into something you’ll later regret.’

Elena smiled. ‘I can look after myself, but thank you, Fernan, for the warning. You’re a good friend.’

He held her against him for a brief second. He was such a lovely, caring man that Elena could not help wondering why he hadn’t been snapped up by some woman long before now.

‘What the hell is going on?’

She jumped when she heard Vidal’s angry voice, felt her heart flutter uneasily. ‘Vidal, I didn’t expect you back yet.’

‘Clearly. Fernan?’ His eyes were a gunmetal-grey and fiercely accusing as they settled on his brother.

Fernan shrugged and smiled and let Elena go. ‘I just came to say goodbye. And to see how the newlyweds are. I’m flying out in a few hours’ time.’

‘Then you’d better get going,’ growled Vidal.

Elena wondered whether there had always been this enmity between them or whether—and this was laughable—Vidal was actually jealous of the attention Fernan had paid her. It was ridiculous if he was. She and Fernan had always been friends, there was nothing different in their relationship. He was like the brother she had never had and always wanted.

Fernan appeared not in the least upset by his sibling’s attitude. ‘
Adiós,
Elena. Take care. I’ll see you next time I’m home.’

Elena kissed his cheek impulsively and when she looked at Vidal he was scowling again. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ she asked, knowing full well what was going through his mind, but wanting to hear it in his own words.

‘What was my brother doing here?’

‘He’s just told you,’ she answered smartly.

‘What were you doing in his arms?’

‘Making love!’ snapped Elena. ‘What did it look like?’ She couldn’t believe he was asking these questions. He actually sounded jealous!

‘He was kissing you.’

‘He was kissing me goodbye. It’s what Fernan does. We’re good friends. Always have been, always will be. Satisfied?’

With a snarl he turned away and headed indoors.

Vidal had seen red when he saw his brother with Elena in his arms. He hadn’t stopped to question what it meant, all he knew was that this was his woman and Fernan was taking advantage.

His woman!
Dios!
She would never be that. She was his for twelve months, and if at the end of it she wanted to get it together with Fernan there was not a thing he could do about it. Why the hell hadn’t he foreseen this? They’d always been close, always the best of friends. And now that they’d met up again…

Hopefully he would have got her out of his system by the end of their contract—and then she could go with whoever the hell she liked. But until then he in
tended on making love to her every single day. No man would stand in his way.

If he’d ever wanted to take a punch at Fernan it had been when he saw them in each other’s arms. But what would that have done to his relationship with Elena? It would have killed it stone-dead. Even if he’d insisted on them remaining married she would never have let him into her bed again. It would have been separate rooms and endless, sleepless nights.

He’d come home early with the intention of making love to his wife. He’d worked hard all day and was ready for some relaxation. Now he felt cheated. He stripped off his clothes and stormed out to the pool, punishing himself instead with lap after gruelling lap.

‘Don’t you think you’ve done enough?’ Suddenly Elena was in the water in front of him, her arms outstretched along the sides of the pool. It was clear that she had nothing on and everything inside him sprang into high alert.

‘Elena, get out of here.’ Otherwise he would take her right where she was.

Her chin lifted in a mutinous gesture that he was beginning to recognise. This lady was not for moving, it said.

‘I’m warning you, Elena.’ God, she was gorgeous. It was no wonder his brother was trying to muscle in on her. And it was the thought of Fernan holding her that spurred him to launch himself at her, pulling her hard against him, pressing his lips to hers in a kiss that was both savage and seriously demanding.

Elena kissed him back, her passion as high as his, and in no time at all they hauled themselves out of the pool
and ran laughing to the relative seclusion of the overhanging branches of an olive tree.

Their lovemaking was fast and furious. Neither could get enough of each other. It was nothing but hot, sizzling sex—but what it did to him. He forgot all about his suspicions regarding his brother. Elena was his willing accomplice. She was up for anything he cared to dish out. In fact, he was the one who called a halt.

‘Enough, Elena,’ he declared softly, pushing himself up on his elbows. He studied her for a few minutes, ‘You are amazing, do you know that? Your skin is soft and beautiful, your lips are flushed with that just-kissed look and your eyes—well, they’re shining like stars. I think I’d like you in this state permanently.’

‘You look very pleased with yourself, too, Señor Marquez,’ she answered primly. ‘Like the cat who’s stolen the cream. Or should I say the stud who’s found his perfect mate?’

‘Mmm, I like that. My perfect mate. Is that you, Elena?’ he asked softly.

‘It’s what I shall endeavour to be for the duration of our marriage,’ she replied, her chin suddenly high, some of the softness going out of her eyes.

It had been the wrong question to ask, the wrong answer he’d been given. He wanted Elena to feel that their lovemaking was something to be enjoyed, not endured. He wanted her to enjoy it so much that she wanted more from him. He did not want her to think of it as a duty.

But perhaps she didn’t. She had virtually invited him to make love earlier and it certainly hadn’t felt like duty when they were in the throes of passion. He had been
certain that Elena’s pleasure was as great as his. So why the caustic comment?

‘Do you have a boyfriend back in the States?’ The words came out of nowhere. Why it had occurred to him to ask her now he didn’t know.

‘Of course not,’ she answered swiftly, with a further flash of her magnificent eyes. ‘How could I have gone through with this if I had? Do you think a boyfriend, a fiancé even, would have put up with me marrying someone else purely to save my parents’ bank? Besides I’ve had no time for serious boyfriends.’

‘Do you hate me for taking you away from your work?’

Another flash of her eyes. ‘I’m not doing it for you, I’m doing it for my parents. And I don’t really think we should be having this sort of a conversation when we don’t have a stitch on.’

‘You could wear me,’ he growled, feeling himself harden all over again.

‘You’re getting very greedy, señor,’ she returned smartly. ‘I think we should get dressed and go indoors and behave like two decent adults.’

‘Decent? When I’m in your company, my sweet Elena? You tempt a man beyond decency.’ She was the most tempting woman he had ever met or was likely to meet. This whole affair had started out because he wanted her body, but he had discovered that there was more to Elena than he had first thought. Inside that head of hers was a keen brain and the combination was lethal.

Elena sprang to her feet and began pulling on her clothes. ‘I’m merely doing the job I was asked to do.’ Not for anything was she going to tell him that she
enjoyed their lovemaking far more than she had ever expected. That it went a long way to making up for the fact that she’d had to put her life on hold.

Her words, however, were like waving a red rag to a bull.

‘Elena!’
There was power behind his voice and a sudden hardness in his eyes. ‘I don’t want you to feel like that. I want you to come to me willingly—or not at all.’ He jumped up too and dragged on his trousers and shirt before storming off into the house.

What would have been his response, wondered Elena, if she’d said that she would settle for the
not at all
? His answer didn’t take much working out. Nevertheless it was true—she was doing a job. Did she have to ruin things, though, by dropping it into the conversation? Or was it herself she had been reminding? Elena sighed deeply. It was proving far too easy to get carried away into believing that their marriage was for real.

And she could not afford to do that. This was a contract. Nothing more, nothing less.

Vidal kept asking himself what was wrong. Why had he gone off the deep end when Elena had said something that was perfectly true? The answer was simple. Because it reminded him that theirs wasn’t a real marriage. And he didn’t want reminding.

The fact that he had insisted on her marrying him in the first place no longer sat easily on his shoulders. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He had wanted this woman beyond reason. But now that he was getting to know her, reason was beginning to step in, and he began to question whether he had done the right thing.

He had taken her away from her job and her friends
all because of his own very selfish needs—needs that were growing and expanding in a way that he had never expected. She was an incredible lover, and had given every impression that she enjoyed the intimate part of their relationship as much as he did—until she’d spoken those damning words!

So was it really all an act?
Was
it just a job to her? How would he ever know? If it was then she had to be a very consummate actress to perform the way she did. Could he demand it of her again without thinking of the words she had spoken?

This was turning into a nightmare. And he had to do something about it. He needed to persuade her that her feelings were very real. Otherwise he couldn’t go through with this—charade—any longer. He did not want her to feel that she had to act when they were making love. Her words had made him uneasy and it was not something he was used to.