Maid for Montero - By Kim Lawrence Page 0,57

weakness to accept he wanted more from this relationship than sex, it was a weakness not to accept it.

He clapped a hand to his head. Will you listen to yourself, Isandro? the analytical portion of his brain mocked. This was exactly the reason he didn’t go in for all that self-analysis crap. It could drive a man crazy and get him nowhere, especially when he’d not had a full night’s sleep for how long…?

Before, he had never spent a full night with a woman out of his own choice. But now the roles were reversed and, back in his own bed, for some reason he just lay awake unable to sleep without her warmth in his arms.

Boyfriend…He tried the description on for size in his head. He’d never actually been anyone’s boyfriend. The whole idea seemed…not him.

Her initial impression of intense weariness was more pronounced when he walked into the small living room. It was palpable. It took every ounce of her self-control to fight the compelling urge to rush to him.

He paused, appearing to sense her mood before he tilted his head towards the ceiling and said in a hushed voice, ‘The children?’

‘Are asleep.’

He expelled a sigh, silenced the narrative in his head and extended his arms. It did not cross his mind for one moment that she would not run into them. Zoe was more responsive to him than any other woman he had ever met. If his passion for her was unquenchable, so was hers for him.

She was infatuated.

She’s in love.

Zoe stood, her feet glued to the spot, and shook her head. The effort caused beads of sweat to form on her upper lip, but she dabbed them with her tongue and shook her head.

He did not approach her, but instead closed the door behind him and leaned his broad shoulders against the wall. He looked very pale. His dark eyes were weirdly blank, they reminded her of someone in shock.

He cleared his throat. ‘Problem?’

She laughed even though she felt like crying. That was so like Isandro, who never used two words when one would suffice. Then, gathering her determination in both hands, she nodded.

‘This isn’t working.’

He would appreciate brevity, she decided, stifling an irrational stab of guilt. It wasn’t as if Isandro had invested any emotions in this relationship. It would be a mistake to imagine that he would feel as though he’d lost a limb if she vanished from his life.

The highly charged silence stretched and pulsed, then he laughed and broke the spell.

She cleared her throat. Either he was more all right with this than she had imagined or he was not taking her seriously. ‘I’m not joking. I think we should agree to call it a day.’

He stopped laughing. ‘You do?’

She nodded, then cleared her throat. She had seen granite walls more revealing than his expression. The only things moving were the muscles in his brown throat as they rippled under the surface of his bronzed skin. ‘Yes.’

Isandro closed his eyes, fighting the urge to yell. The children were upstairs sleeping and he could not yell; he had to appear invisible.

Her insistence on maintaining the unrealistic illusion they were nothing but passing acquaintances had not seemed a big ask at the time. It had even seemed like a good idea. However, it had ceased to feel like a good idea some time ago.

There was a certain dark irony to the situation. He had always avoided having his name linked with a woman, and now he was with a woman who seemed ashamed to acknowledge they were sleeping together.

It should have been the ideal situation, but it wasn’t.

The previous week he had driven past the school when she was picking up the twins. They had waved and Zoe had pretended not to see him. He had been contemplating leaping out of the car and hauling her into his arms and kissing her in front of the entire damned gossipy village whose opinion seemed to matter so much to her. It wasn’t as if they didn’t all know they were sleeping together anyway.

But he hadn’t, because he wasn’t a Neanderthal. Though lately he had seen there were certain advantages in following your baser instincts.

Obviously he did not want to set up house, but neither did he want to be treated like a dirty secret…It was demeaning for any man.

‘You need a drink.’

Zoe felt panic as she watched him shrug off his jacket before walking across to the cupboard where she had put the half-drunk bottle