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Her head moved in denial, even as awareness flickered in her eyes. She exhaled a ragged hot breath on the pad of his thumb. “I won’t,” she whispered.
He didn’t reply, just lowered his head to silence any more feeble protests. She struggled to break away from his kiss, but he followed her lips with his own, piercing his tongue into her mouth and claiming her.
Her struggles ceased when she let out a groan of frustration and leaned into him, returning the kiss heatedly. He made a murmur of triumph, unfastened her seatbelt and pulled her onto his lap.
He’d meant to maintain control. To distance himself from a kiss that was simply to prove to her how much she wanted him. How compatible they were on this level. But tasting her, feeling the press of Chloe’s curves against his hardness, put his control on a volatile foundation.
He blindly moved his hand up her ribcage to cup one breast, noticing immediately how much fuller it was with her pregnancy. His stomach clenched and a surprising wave of tenderness swept through him. He gentled the kiss, unable to abandon the sweetness of her mouth as he stroked her taut nipple.
Her soft whimper of pleasure sent his blood pounding—reaffirmed that Chloe was his. And he would remind her as often as it took until she stopped denying it.
She was drowning in sensation. Chloe returned Andrés’ kiss with fervor, knowing she should stop him. Each stroke of his thumb across her breast sent shards of pleasure straight through her body.
It was shocking. At any moment one of his flight attendants could walk through the aisle and see them. But she was helpless to the pleasure and to the passion Andrés seemed determined to remind her they had.
The familiar heat sank low in her belly, and she knew she was a fool to even try to deny it. Everything inside her craved this reconnection, needed the protection she knew his arms could give her, and wanted to surrender to the passion.
When he finally lifted his mouth from hers, she let out cry of protest and actually gripped his shirt to try to stop him. Her cheeks flamed with humiliation at his knowing laugh.
What was she doing? Trying to join the mile-high club with a man who alternately frustrated and captivated her? She pushed off his lap and fumbled to straighten her dress.
“I think I hate you,” she muttered churlishly.
“If that was hate, cariño, I’m curious what your definition of love is.” He chuckled, but made no effort to reach for her again.
The heat in her cheeks grew and she knew her words had been stupid. She looked away from him and out the window instead. “Where are you taking me?”
“Back to Spain. But then, I think you already knew that.”
Excitement sparked inside her at having her earlier suspicions confirmed, and she didn’t bother to hide her smug smile. She wasn’t going to Spain.
“Yes. Actually, I believe I did know. But tell me, Andrés, do you really think they’ll let me into your country without my passport?”
“With enough money, sí, I imagine I could get you in. However, it will not be an issue seeing as we currently have your passport in our possession.”
“You what?” she asked faintly, her bravado vanishing. “How on earth did you get my passport?”
Andrés shrugged. “The same way I acquired the other necessary items from your apartment. I had one of my employees retrieve them.”
Chloe fell back against the soft leather of her seat, a sense of helplessness growing. It was like some twisted game he played with her, and Andrés always managed to stay one step ahead. “Breaking and entering? You have no limits.”
She’d thought for sure that the lack of a passport would put a halt to his crazy plans to fly her to Spain. What did he plan to do with her there? Keep her locked up? Her palms dampened and she bit her lip.
She wanted to cry, or at least scream at him until her throat was dry. Her emotions were on a roller coaster that appeared to have no end in sight.
It wasn’t fair. This morning she’d woken up with a renewed optimism, determined to find a way to raise her child alone. A child she already loved and hadn’t thought possible. A child Andrés was now determined to take from her.
Chloe blinked the sudden tears from her eyes. “What kind of man are you?” she demanded raggedly, though she already knew the answer.
His gaze raked over her, confident and possessive. “The kind who always gets what he wants.”
Chapter 6
Chloe woke to a swaying motion and when she opened her eyes, found herself being carried in Andrés’ arms. She blinked, trying to dispel the disorientation after having fallen asleep on the journey.
It was warm outside, even though it appeared the sun would soon be setting. After over fifteen hours of traveling,-since the plane had stopped to refuel in New York-they’d finally landed in Spain. She’d been asleep moments after stepping into Andrés’s Rolls-Royce.
He was so strong, carrying her effortlessly. Beneath her back she could feel the hard coil of the muscles in his arms. Even after he’d completely upset her life in the last twenty-four hours, she couldn’t stop the swell of emotion at being in his arms again. Feeling small, vulnerable, and almost cherished. Which was silly. Andrés didn’t cherish her; if anything, he cherished the idea of owning her and the baby inside her.
She lay still in his arms so as not to tip him off that she’d awoken, and let her gaze slip around their surroundings.
A manicured green lawn surrounded the white paved driveway he carried her upon. The breath locked in her throat when she saw the villa up ahead. Was this his home? It had the appearance of an old castle, with its grandeur and gray stone walls. It was gorgeous. Spectacular. Her lips parted on a silent sigh of wonder.
Andrés suddenly glanced down at her. “Ah, you are awake.”
She stiffened and muttered a husky, “Would you put me down now, please? I’d rather walk.”
He gave a deep, sensual laugh that sent a tremor through her body. Slowly, he lowered her to the ground and then released her.
Having spent so many hours traveling in planes and cars, Chloe’s knees immediately buckled when they hit the paved drive. In an instant, Andrés’ hands returned to her waist and she was pulled against his solid length.
“All right?” he asked gently.
She nodded and bit her lip, wishing she didn’t need his support. “Where are we?”
“At my villa in the Catalonia countryside,” he murmured against her ear.
The large wooden double doors were pushed open and a plump, older woman appeared with a wide grin. “Señor Montero, you have returned.”
Andrés arrived next to the woman and leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “Sí. Buenas noches, Rosa.”
Chloe cast him a surprised glance, noting the warmth in his tone and the softness in his gaze. Clearly this woman had his affection.
Switching to English, Andrés said, “Chloe, please meet Rosa, the villa’s housekeeper. I would be lost without her. She is priceless.”
Rosa blushed and waved a hand in denial.
“And Rosa, I’d like to introduce you to Chloe Wilkinson. She will be staying with us indefinitely.”
“Wonderful! I will have a room prepared.”
“That will not be necessary. She will be staying with me.”
Chloe’s cheeks burned, but if the housekeeper was scandalized by the announcement she revealed no outward sign of it.
Andrés urged Chloe forward and into his villa. He couldn’t help but notice the myriad of emotions flickering across her face as she took in the spacious interior. Her expression showed wonder and obvious appreciation of the tiled floors, stone walls, and high ceilings with antiqued beams.
He’d purchased his home back in his early twenties, when he’d made his first billion dollars. And now, a decade later, it was still his most prized reflection of his success. The villa would always be the one place where he preferred to spend his time when he wasn’t traveling.
He kept the furnishings simple yet plush, to invite comfort and relaxation but not overwhelm a guest with extravagance. It was rare, though, that he brought guests to his villa, and he again appreciated Rosa’s discretion and ability to withhold judgment.
His heart softened at the thought of the mother figure who was his housekeeper now.
“Come,” he said briskly to Chloe. “I will take you upstairs to our room.”
Chloe trailed after him and grumbled, “I’d prefer my own room.”
“I’m sure you would.” His mouth twitched as he led her up the curved staircase that led to the second floor. “But I prefer you in mine.”
“I won’t sleep with you,” she vowed.
“It is entirely up to you, but sleeping wasn’t what I had in mind anyway.”
“Oh. You’re infuriating.”
