âRosie, I should regret what happened, apologize, but in all honesty I canât. You were soâ¦â He paused, as if his aptitude for the English language had suddenly deserted him. His fingers slid from her jawbone and tracked gently down the side of her throat. âSensational.â
The intensity of his level silver gaze, the stark masculine beauty of his features, the touch of his hand against her skin made her feel helplessly dizzy. She wanted to hold him, to wrap her arms around him and tell him how swollen her heart felt, swollen with so much love she could hardly contain it. But his next statement made her go cold all over.
âAs this was your first time, I donât expect youâre protected.â
Her mouth dropped open. She hadnât given the matter any thought at all.
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More titles in the Foreign Affairs series:
The Salvatore Marriage
by Michelle Reid #2362
His Forbidden Bride
by Sara Craven #2388
SEBASTIAN GARCIAâS mood was blacker than a coalminerâs finger-nails as he faced the rambling sixteenth-century façade of Troone Manor. His smoke-grey eyes narrowed then glittered with angry determination. Heâd claw his heart out of his breast with his own hands before heâd allow Terrina Dysart to get her gold-diggerâs talons on his godfatherâs extensive property!
For the first time in his twenty-nine years a visit to the charming old house that had been like a second home to him for most of his life was lacking in anything remotely approaching pleasure.
The cold March wind pushed icy fingers through the sleek blackness of his hair, reminding him that his family home in Southern Spain and the village of Hope Baggot in the uplands of west Shropshire might as well be poles apart.
Firming his already hard jaw, he reached a leather suitcase from the back seat of the silver Mercedes and strode over the circular sweep of gravel to the main door where Madge Partridge was waiting to greet him. His tersely snapped, âIs everything in hand?â wiped the welcoming smile from the housekeeperâs lined face, and she took a flinching step backwards.
Silently cursing himself for losing his cool, he dredged up a smile. A lift of one ebony brow was enough to have his business staff jumping if the occasion demanded it. But dear old Madge was his godfatherâs housekeeper and she was only following Marcusâs ordersâas he himself was reluctantly doing. And making good and sure Marcus Troone got to see what Terrina really was, was his problem, not Madgeâs.
âSorry,â he apologised through the smile he was doing his best to keep in place. âI didnât mean to bite your head off.â He lifted wide, leather-coated shoulders in an expressive shrug. âIâve been driving through the night; put it down to that and forgive me?â
âOf course.â Briefly, Madge put a workworn hand to the side of his face, her gaunt features relaxing as she grumbled at him, âYou wouldnât take the easy way out and fly over in comfort, get a driver from the London office to meet you at the airport and chauffeur you here, not you!â
Her brown eyes glinted with affectionate amusement as he walked past her into the huge, raftered hall where a log fire was burning brightly in the stone fireplace. âThe first time you ever stayed here without your parentsâyouâd have been six years oldâyou decided that coming down to breakfast via your bedroom window and the wisteria would be more of a challenge than using the stairs. So nothingâs changed, has it?â
The memory of the truly awe-inspiring scolding heâd received from Tia Lucia on that long-ago occasion made his heart dip with sadness. Marcus Troone and Sebastianâs father, Rafael, had been business partners and Marcus had married Rafaelâs younger sister, Lucia. They had regarded themselves as one family. Sebastian had spent long weeks every summer at Troone Manor, and life had seemed happy and uncomplicated.
But shadows had invaded the scene, invaded and deepened. To their sadness, his aunt and Marcusâwho was also his godfatherâhad remained childless, and he had been approaching his eighth birthday when the unthinkable had happened and his lively, loving Tia Lucia had been stricken with multiple sclerosis. The next time heâd visited sheâd been confined to a wheelchair, almost as helpless as a baby.
Two years ago Lucia had died and now Marcus, lonely and childless, was on the point of marrying a gold-digging witch!