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'A pillow?' she scorned. After his behaviour in the shower, she knew damn well that a pillow would not stop Raul. 'This aftern—'
'This afternoon was...' Raul grinned. 'What was it you said?' One dark brow arched teasingly. 'Ah, yes, a shakedown.'
She flushed scarlet and looked away, angry and confused. For a second she was reminded of the Raul she had first met, who had delighted in teasing her.
'Personally I think a shakeout would be a more accurate description. It was necessary to get our anger and frustration with each other out in the open, to enable us to concentrate all our energies on making a good life for our son, without the added distraction of wondering if sex between us was still as red-hot as ever.'
Penny's cheeks burned even brighter; her hand fell from his sleeve and she glared up at him in helpless frustration. Why was the man always so damned right? It wasn't fair. 'So you say, but then you seduced me,' she hissed.
'Granted.' He had the gall to grin. 'But when you got going there was no stopping you.'
The simple truth of his statement was undeniable. She sighed and closed her eyes for a second, blocking out the brilliant intensity of Raul's mocking gaze.
'Come on, Penny.' His arm settled around her shoulders and she stiffened instinctively. But his strong hand squeezed her shoulder, not hard, but in an oddly comforting gesture as he urged her towards the door and out into the hall. He stopped at the foot of the staircase, surprising Penny by setting her free.
He glanced down into her wary blue eyes, and, curving a long finger under her chin, lifted it. 'You have nothing to worry about,' he said, holding her gaze with the first gentle look he had given her since she had returned to Spain. 'You can go to bed in the sure knowledge that I will not lay a finger on you without your consent.'
As Penny saw it, she did not have a lot of choice. She could believe him or fight, and, as she fought down a wide yawn, belief won...
How long she had spent watching her sleeping son Penny had no idea, but suddenly it seemed a matter of the utmost urgency to be in bed and asleep before Raul came upstairs.
She dashed through the preparation for bed with the speed of light, then grimaced in exasperation at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror. The only nightdress she could find was one from years back, when it had seemed important to look good for Raul. Now she thought the garment was indecent. Tiny straps over her slender shoulders supported a sliver of white silk cut on the bias to cling to every curve; the fact that her bust was a little fuller was not helped by the deep inset of the finest white lace almost to her navel.
Still, she thought, climbing into the huge bed, with a bit of luck Raul would never see it. If she got to sleep before him, and up before he was awake... God help her! Who was she trying to fool? Herself?
There was no way she was ever going to sleep. Her life had been turned upside down. She was in a foreign country, with her son in the room next door and not an idea in her head. She sighed. Her head sinking into the soft pillow, she curled her hands around the edge of the mattress, determined to take up as little space as possible. There must be something she could do... but what?
She yawned widely. The only thing she was absolutely sure of was that she would never, ever leave her son... His abduction had taught her that much. She would have given anything—her life, her soul to the devil—to get him back. Pride, money, career meant nothing in comparison to her child. She had finally realised that the reality of life was the family—nothing else mattered.
Penny stirred uneasily, her hands losing their grip on the mattress, a traitorous thought invading her tired mind. If she truly believed that, why do anything? James was safe and loved; she was safe and, if not loved, at least desired. Many a marriage was made on less. Her long lashes brushed her cheeks. The trouble was, she thought hazily, that Raul had not suggested marriage. Her eyes closed and she was asleep.
She didn't see Raul enter the bedroom and stand by the bed staring down at her sleeping form; she didn't feel the brush of his hand on her brow, pushing back her tumble of hair, but she stirred slightly at the soft kiss on her cheek, and turned over in the wide bed.
She was freezing in the blinding ice of stark white walls, the silence so total that every beat of her heart echoed in her brain. Penny moaned in her sleep, her head tossing from side to side. 'No, no,' she cried, but no sound escaped. She watched in ever mounting horror and fear as the ghostly outline of a man came towards her, the white coat moving, blending with the walls closing in on her, about to crush the life from her.
Somehow, on some level, she knew that she was in a nightmare—the same nightmare she had suffered on a regular basis since James had been kidnapped. But this time it was worse. Through a hazy mist she saw the man stop in front of her, his features changing, first fair and then inexplicably dark and suddenly fair again; she wept at the pity in his eyes. She saw his mouth open and she could not bear it, knowing what he was going to say. She screamed, 'Not James, no. No. No-o-o.'
Great, shuddering tears shook her slender body. 'Please, please...' she whimpered, trying to force her eyes open. Then from a long way off she heard the voice.
'Hush. Hush, querida; don't cry. James is safe.' She registered the warmth around her, the soft, compassionate voice saying, 'You're both safe. Nothing will ever harm you again.'
Penny sought the source of the warmth, pressing into the hard male flesh, her arm sliding over a taut, masculine waist, clinging for all she was worth. She had been so frightened, but a large, familiar hand softly stroked her brow, another tenderly rubbed her back; she was cocooned in a solid, comforting circle of heat.
Her head lay on a broad chest; she shivered on a sob and sighed, her lashes flickering in a brief attempt to open her eyes, then closing again. She heard the steady, firm beat beneath her ear—a reassuring and convincingly safe sound—and, snuggling ever closer, she drifted back to sleep.
This time there was no fear, no nightmare, just the gentle caress of warm lips on her cheek. Her throat arched, her head falling back on a soft pillow. She felt the warmth of sensuous lips across her own, the whispered words a caress against her mouth.
‘Trust me; you and James are safe, now and always.' It was what she wanted to believe, so she believed. A soft, relieved sigh parted her lips as the husky voice continued, 'You're so beautiful, so perfect. The mother of my child.'
Penny shivered as the firm lips trailed down her throat, planting kisses every inch; she was no longer afraid but safe and secure in the arms of her lover. She put her hands against his chest, her palms flat, her fingers tangling in curling body hair. It was a dream, but such a perfect dream that she never wanted to wake up.
Her dream lover's hand slid over her shoulders, removing the fine straps of her gown, pushing it down around her feet with ease, his strong hands caressing her legs, her inner thigh, teasing back up her naked body, finding a creamy breast, his long fingers stroking the rosy tip into a small hard nub of desire.
She groaned. Her lashes fluttering, her own fingers returned the favour, finding a hard male nipple, plucking. And she heard an answering groan. A secret, sensual smile twitched her lips and she moved restlessly on the bed, heat flooding through to her groin
, her legs parting involuntarily. One collided with a hard, masculine thigh and she moved her foot, stroking like a cat against the long, sinewed leg of her dream lover, and finally settled with her leg wrapped over his thigh.
'Do you know what you're doing to me?' a rasping voice murmured against her curved lips before slanting over her mouth, hungrily seeking the dark, moist interior with a deliciously dancing tongue.
