Page 10 of Claiming His Wife

His narrowed charcoal eyes still held hers as a rapid pulse of embarrassed colour covered her face. 'A mere observation,' he said lightly. His mouth wasn't smiling but his eyes were dancing. 'Shall we eat? Outside?'

He lifted the heavy tray and strode out through the open door. Cassie dragged in a shuddery breath and followed.

In the past she'd only had to look at him to go dizzy with wanting him. Wanting him so badly yet unable to deliver.

If he had his way, the whole humiliating farce was due to begin all over again—unless she could con­vince him that it wasn't necessary.

By the time she caught up with him he was un­loading the contents of the tray on to a teak table in the courtyard. Shaded by a massive almond tree, flanked by ancient stone urns filled with perfumed lilies and carnations, it was the ideal site for a relaxed meal, the prelude to a second honeymoon.

Suddenly, her legs felt hollow. She sat down quickly. It was so hot, even in the green shade that made his skin seem darker, his eyes enigmatic. The combination of the still, heavily perfumed air and nervous tension was making her dizzy.

'You have to be hungry,' he allowed, piling a plate with thin slices of the ham that was a speciality of the region, plump olives and crisp salad. 'Since you refused to eat breakfast back at the hotel. Tell me—' his eyes skimmed her wilting body as he poured the wine '—do I ruin your appetite, Cassie mia? Whenever I was at the finca I saw you pick at your food, yet you've gained weight during this last year. A very becoming amount of weight.'

Cassie reached for a crusty roll, broke it and driz­zled olive oil over the two halves. She took a delib­erate bite and speared a succulent morsel of ham with her fork.

'You intimidated me,' she told him honestly. If nothing else, a year away from him had given her back the ability to give an opinion, vocalise her thoughts. 'I was dumped in that isolated farmhouse with nothing to do but endure the disapproval of your female relatives. When you did put in an appearance, you barely seemed to see me—'

'Oh, I saw you,' he slid in, his mouth compressing. 'Whenever I was foolish enough to try to get near you I saw a pair of frightened eyes, I saw panic. Por Dios! Is it any wonder I stopped trying?'

'That was just sex,' she shot back. 'You wanted an heir. That was the only use you had for me!' Her fingers tightened convulsively on the misty surface of her wine glass

. 'When it was obvious that it wasn't going to happen, you washed your hands of me— you couldn't even be bothered to ask why!' she told him stormily. 'What I wanted was never important, was it? When I asked—begged you to let us make a home away from the finca—'

'You were hysterical,' he reminded coldly. 'In those days I needed to be away often—'

'You could have taken me with you,' Cassie snapped back, wishing the subject didn't still have the power to make her-so angry. The past was dead, so why couldn't she bury it? She drained her glass in one long swallow, hoping the chilled wine would cool her temper.

And when he dismissed, 'My mother was worried about you; the aunts, too, decided you needed guid­ance, looking after,' she could have hurled the empty glass straight at his head.

As if he read the intention in her eyes he calmly refilled the prospective missile, then put his forearms on the table, leaning towards her.

The shock of soft dark hair that fell over his fore­head and his sudden, disarming smile made him look younger than his thirty-six years. And his voice was husky as he told her, 'Querida, we are not here to quarrel. You have your wish. We are away from the finca and my relatives. Now we can see if your at­titude in the bedroom has changed as radically as your figure and your ability to answer me back.'

He reached out and touched her hand and the whole of her body caught fire as he said, 'I am look­ing forward to finding out, mi esposa.'

CHAPTER FIVE

The fluid music of the fountain as the water splashed into the shallow stone basin seemed unnaturally loud in the silence that lay over the courtyard. The way be was still looking at her, the things he had said, released a flood of shattering sensation inside her, making her flesh quiver, her blood pound hotly through her veins. It took her breath away.

Responding to the way he looked, the sound of his voice, his vital masculinity, had never been a prob­lem. Nothing had changed in that respect. But she couldn't deliver, couldn't hope to please and enthral a man of his sophistication and experience.

Could she?

Feeling as if her bones were about to disintegrate, she gripped the stem of her wine glass and said thickly, 'It needn't happen—the bed thing,' and felt her face go red beneath those steady, watchful eyes.

'I see.' Long fingers lazily plucked a grape from the terracotta platter. She heard the wine-dark fruit crunch between his strong white teeth. 'And how do you work that out?'

At least he wasn't forcefully reminding her of the bargain they'd made, she thought, as she thankfully released the breath she'd been holding. He wasn't getting all macho and Spanish and breathing fire and brimstone from those aristocratically sculpted nos­trils! In fact, he looked completely relaxed, one arm hooked across the back of his chair, the other reach­ing towards the grapes.

Roman in a reasonable, listening mood was pretty bewildering—it made her feel as if she were on an­other planet, but she wasn't going to knock it!

Hoping it was going to last, she said levelly, 'Tell me if I'm wrong, but this supposed reconciliation of ours is being staged to get your family and Delfina off your case, isn't it?'

No response. He crunched another grape and re­filled the wine glass she hadn't noticed emptying.

Despite her best intentions, her voice rose a level. 'When you marry again it won't be to that type of spoiled, demanding socialite. Unless you've altered your mind radically, it will be to a quiet breeding machine, content to stay home while you go out to play.'

Cassie huffed in an infuriated breath. He could at least show some interest in what she'd been saying and agree with her, because she knew she was right. 'Why don't you say something? Anything! Or are we having a one-sided conversation here?'

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