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Andrés smiled briefly at her frustration. They walked down to the end of the hall on the second floor and he opened a door, gesturing for her to enter.


She did, though with obvious reluctance. Her gaze swept around the room and he again saw the awe and appreciation in her eyes. But if she was pleased, she did not say anything.


Instead she turned and faced him, her arms folded across her breasts. “Andrés, please, you can’t mean to keep me here.” She shook her head, her stare beseeching. “You have no reason to.”


“But I have every reason to, cariño,” he said softly, and walked the few steps to close the distance between them. “You are carrying my child and I must ensure that he comes to no harm. With you here, I can guarantee that you have the best prenatal care available at your fingertips.”


“We have doctors in the states,” she said with exasperation. “I promise I will take good care of myself and the baby.”


“Perhaps, but I prefer to have you here.”


He turned away from her and moved toward the bathroom, trying to give her a bit of space to adjust. “Would you care to bathe? I could have a bath drawn—”


“No, I would care to be flown home to Seattle. This is madness.” She strode after him. “How long do you intend to keep me here?”


When she touched his shoulder, some of his control snapped. He spun on his heel and caught her about the waist, hauling her against him; needing her lushness pressed against him and to reassure himself she was here in Spain.


“Have I not been clear? Until our child is born, Chloe,” he muttered thickly, and slid his hand up her neck to hold her head still. “Then you will be free to leave.”


Her eyes widened and he could see the pulse in her neck beating furiously. “Leave with my baby?”


“No. Our child will stay in Spain with me.”


“No.” Her body weakened against him.


“I’ve told you. You may stay too, Chloe. As my wife.” His head lowered and he caught her mouth in a deep kiss, tasting her thoroughly.


When he lifted his head again her lovely eyes flickered with a mix of helplessness and desire. “Please, Andrés.”


Her whispered plea, combined with the press of her soft curves against his body, had his groin tightening. “I like it when you beg me. It reminds me of other times you begged.”


Like when she’d been in his bed on that hot summer night, her legs wrapped around his waist while he’d driven into her. He didn’t speak the words, but by the way her cheeks turned pink he knew she thought about it also.


“My job will wonder where I am,” she challenged huskily.


“I’ve spoken with the restaurant owner and notified him that you will be leaving to move to Spain with me, your fiancé. I have also paid the rest of your rent and informed your landlord that your lease will not be renewed.”


Tears filled her eyes again, even while they flashed with anger. “My parents will search for me.”


“Your parents are deceased,” Andrés said softly, not surprised but a bit saddened that she’d tried to lie again. He’d been surprised to learn Chloe was nearly as alone in the world as he was.


Pain flickered in her eyes, and then resentment returned. “Well, you’ve certainly thought of everything, haven’t you?”


“And more.” He visually traced her body. “You are mine, Chloe, until I say otherwise.”


He wanted to strip her naked and prove it. Kiss every inch of her body until she proclaimed herself his. But she was tired and shocked, and he wasn’t a complete bastard. He could wait. For at least a little while.


“I have business. Please, make yourself at home in my room. I will have supper sent up shortly.”


“I’m not hungry.”


“You will eat,” he said more curtly than intended.


To soften his words, he slid his hand inward to caress her belly, trying to remind her of the baby. Instead, it was a reminder to himself when he found her stomach not quite as flat as it had been over the summer. Something tightened and then softened inside him when he thought of the child growing inside her womb. A child so helpless and innocent.


“Eat, Chloe. You must think of the baby,” he said, his voice husky now and his brows furrowed. “I will return later.”


Chloe watched him go and resisted the urge to throw something after him. Giving a soft sigh, she unthreaded the braids and fluffed her hair so that it fell in loose curls over her shoulders. She glanced at the closed door and wondered if it was locked.


Most likely, and even if it weren’t, what would she do? Run free and beg for help from his staff? She pressed her palm against her forehead and bit her lip to stop a frenzied giggle.


She shook her head and crossed the room to where she assumed the bathroom was. She’d stubbornly turned down his offer for a bath, but now a shower sounded exquisite after all the travel and time that had passed.


The bathroom was just as fancy as the rest of his house, with marble countertops and a sunken bath. She cast a look of longing at the bathtub but pushed aside any notions of a relaxing soak.


Instead, she stripped out of her clothes, folded them and set them on the counter, then stepped into the oversized shower.


When she emerged, Chloe felt half alive again, if not at least a bit cleaner. She wrapped a towel around herself and then looked for her clothes she’d taken off earlier. They were gone. Her mouth dried up and her pulse quickened.


Had Andrés been in the bathroom while she showered? She glanced toward the door and discovered a dress hanging from it. Frowning, she slowly moved forward to touch the simple pink cotton dress, which was close to, if not exactly, her size. And then next to it, on the marbled countertop, she noticed the pale pink matching panty and bra set. This time, after checking the tags, she realized they were exactly her size.


Her cheeks flushed and for a moment she was tempted to sit around all evening in the bath towel rather than put on the clothes Andrés had bought her. Then she realized he might return at any minute, and the idea of being caught with just a towel on spurred her into action. She changed into the underwear and dress quickly, every muscle in her body tense until she was once again clothed.


Chloe left the steamy bathroom a moment later, pressing a hand nervously down the dress that clung to her breasts but had an empire waist, allowing the fabric to flow around the rest of her body. It would work well for the changes her figure would experience during pregnancy.


She sighed and observed the rest of the room again.


Lush and opulent, Andrés’ bedroom didn’t fail to impress. The bed itself was wide and raised off the ground to where she knew she’d have to put a little effort to climb onto it. On top of the mattress were oversized burgundy pillows and a luxurious gold and burgundy embroidered coverlet.


A fireplace lay on the north side of the room, with oversized comfortable-looking chairs and a couch nearby.


She strode to one of the windows and peered out at the view. Her stress faded a bit; she let out a sigh of pleasure, the ache in her heart easing. She’d almost forgotten how much she loved Spain.


“Absolutely beautiful,” she murmured.


In the fading light, the land stretched out in valleys of green, with patches of trees scattered about and a fence that weaved throughout. Off in the distance, she could just make out the ancient buildings of what looked like a medieval village.


There were no other houses within view and she swallowed hard, wondering if everything she saw nearby was Andrés’ property. Excitement buzzed through her veins and she found herself itching to go beyond the house and explore.


Then she remembered where she was and her situation, and backed away from the window. This was not a vacation. She’d been taken back to Spain against her will, and she’d best try to remember that.


Chloe turned her attention to the structure of the room. The high ceilings and beams made her wonder what century the villa had been built in. It truly did have the feel of an old castle. She walked to the wall and ran her hand over the stone, a bit awed by the beauty of it all. They simply didn’t have places like this in America, let alone one that was the residence of a random person. But then, Andrés wasn’t just anybody.


She grimaced at the reminder. Andrés was a powerful and wealthy man. She’d hit the nail on the head that first night when she’d asked him if he wasn’t used to hearing the word no. It was probably about as common for him as snow was in Los Angeles.


But it wasn’t right. Andrés couldn’t just pluck her from her life and expect her to be okay with it. She still was in shock at his gall.


And what really terrified her was that every moment she spent in his presence, she was reminded how potent he was, how he went to her head like a fancy bottle of champagne. It was quite clear how easily she could lose her heart to him. She’d already come dangerously close when she’d been here just months ago.

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