Marisa squeezed her eyes shut, trying to gather her strength. Sheâd face him later if she had to. Now she needed to be alone.
âI didnât think anything, Damaso.â She lingered over his name with dripping saccharine emphasis. âWhat we shared is over and done with.â
Her fingers closed around the door handle, but before she could tug it open a large hand slammed palm-down onto the door before her, keeping it forcibly closed. The heat of Damasoâs body encompassed her, his breath riffling her hair as if he was breathing as hard as she.
âWhat about the fact youâre carrying my child?â
She gasped. How did he know?
Marisa stared blankly at the strong, sinewy hand before her. She blinked, remembering how that hand had looked on her skin, the pleasure it had wrought. How sheâd actually hoped, for a few brief hours, that sheâd found a man who valued her for herself. How betrayed sheâd felt.
âMarisa?â His voice was sharp.
She drew a jagged breath into tight lungs and turned, her chin automatically lifting, as he glowered down at her from his superior height.
The sight of him looking so lofty and disapproving stoked fire in her belly. Sheâd deal with him on her terms, when she was ready.
ONE NIGHT WITH CONSEQUENCES
A high price to pay for giving in to temptation!
When succumbing to a night of unbridled desire, itâs impossible to think past the morning after!
But with the sheets barely settled that little blue line appears on the pregnancy test and it doesnât take long to realise that one night of white-hot passion has turned into a lifetime of consequences!
Only one question remains:
How do you tell a man youâve just met that youâre about to share more than just his bed?
ANNIE WEST has devoted her life to an intensive study of tall, dark, charismatic heroes who cause the best kind of trouble in the lives of their heroines. As a sideline sheâs also researched dream-worthy locations for romance, from bustling, vibrant cities to desert encampments and fairytale castles. Itâs hard work, but she loves a challenge. Annie lives with her family at beautiful Lake Macquarie, on Australiaâs east coast. She loves to hear from readers and you can contact her at www.annie-west.com or at PO Box 1041, Warners Bay, NSW 2282, Australia.
For Ana Luisa Neves.
With heartfelt thanks for your patience and Portuguese language expertise.
CHAPTER ONE
DAMASO SAW HER and his breath snagged in his lungs.
He whoâd had women dancing to his tune well before he made his first million.
How long since one had quickened his pulse? Heâd known divas and duchesses, models and Madonnas. In the early days thereâd been tourists by the armful, and one memorable tango dancer whose sinuous body and blatant sexuality had made his teenage self burn with need. None had affected him the way she didâwithout effort.
For the first time she was alone, not laughing with her coterie of men. He was surprised to see her crouched, photographing flowers on the rainforest floor. She was so engrossed, she didnât notice him.
That was new for Damaso. Heâd grown used to being watched and avidly sought after.
It pricked him that she was oblivious to him while he was hyper-aware of her. It infuriated him that his eyes strayed to her time and again, yet she had done no more than gift him with the dazzling smile she awarded so indiscriminately.
Damaso moved closer, intrigued. Was she really unaware or was she trying to pique his curiosity? Did she know he preferred to be the hunter, not the prey?
Beautiful blondes were commonplace in his world. Yet from the first day, watching her radiant face as sheâd emerged drenched but undaunted from white-water rafting, Damaso had felt something new. A spark of connection.
Was it her unbounded energy? The devilment in her eyes as she risked her pretty neck again and again? Or that sexy gurgle of laughter that clutched at his vitals? Perhaps it was the sheer courage of a woman that didnât baulk at any challenge on a trek designed to spark the jaded interest of the worldâs ultra-wealthy.
âMarisa. There you are. I looked for you everywhere.â Young Saltram blundered out of the undergrowth to stop beside her. A computer geek who looked about eighteen, yet was worth upwards of seven figures annually, he was like an over-grown puppy salivating over a bone.
Damasoâs jaw tightened as Saltram ate her up with his eyesâhis gaze lingering on the delectable peach ripeness of her backside as she squatted with her camera.
Damaso stirred, but stopped as she turned her head. From this angle he saw what Saltram couldnât: her deep breath, as if sheâd mustered her patience before turning.
âBradley! I havenât seen you for hours.â She gave the newcomer a blinding smile that seemed to stun him.