Public Marriage, Private Secrets - By Helen Bianchin Page 0,39
the side of the pool where she lifted herself in one easy movement onto the marble tiles.
It took bare minutes to towel the moisture from her body and fix the towel sarong-style round her slender form, then she picked up a second towel and wound it turban-fashion over her hair.
Without a backward glance she entered the adjacent cabana and made her way through to the guest wing and her suite, where she showered, washed her hair, then donned comfortable jeans, a knit top, and opened her laptop.
If she’d had a choice she’d have opted to follow Teresa’s lead and eat a light meal here, instead of joining Raúl in the dining room. Dinner à deux didn’t exactly appeal for a number of reasons…too many to settle for any one.
Consequently she changed into black silky evening trousers, added a black lacy top, fixed her hair, applied light blusher and lipgloss, and slid her feet into black stilettos.
Informal, almost casual, but with a degree of style, she accorded, and made her way downstairs.
‘Señor Raúl will join you soon,’ Elena imparted as Gianna entered the dining room.
So much for hoping to dine alone. Which, given the intimacy they’d shared, seemed little less than ridiculous.
So suck it up and pretend.
Sure, and she could do that?
Try, a silent voice prompted.
And she did…she really did.
Except Raúl was there, a disturbing, disruptive presence who stirred her emotions to fever-pitch. Even to observe his hands as he ate proved a vivid reminder of just what havoc those hands could cause to her equilibrium…
As to his mouth…she didn’t dare go there.
‘I may be needed in Madrid tomorrow.’ He forked the last morsel of food and pushed his plate to one side. ‘A conference call in this instance isn’t achieving a satisfactory result.’
Gianna set her plate aside, half the contents untouched…attempting to do the food justice was out of the question.
‘In that case you should give whatever it is your personal attention.’
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her thoughtfully. ‘You’ve been like a kitten on hot bricks and eaten little. Care to offer a reason?’
OK, he’d asked. Tell him. ‘Last night was a mistake.’
‘I disagree.’
He knew—of course he knew what bothered her. How could he not, when he had always been able to read her like an open book? ‘I don’t do casual sex.’
‘There was nothing casual about it.’
Why had she started this? It was insane to think she could best him in any way.
‘It’s not going to happen again,’ she vowed firmly.
‘It’s a woman’s prerogative to decline.’
And she hadn’t done that, had she? Instead she’d invited him in, urged him on…with each successive occasion.
Why? Stupid question. She knew precisely what had motivated her…need, electrifying passion, and a compelling urgency to experience sexual chemistry at its zenith. With him…only him.
Gianna stood to her feet. ‘If you’ll excuse me?’
He made no attempt to stop her, other than to offer quietly, ‘Avoiding the issue won’t make it go away.’
Perhaps not, but she didn’t have to stay and cross verbal swords with him.
Not the most successful evening, she accorded as she entered the beautifully tiled foyer and headed for the staircase.
If only she could turn the clock back twenty-four hours…except that wasn’t possible.
So get over it, she chided herself as she entered her suite and discarded her clothes for cotton sleep trousers and a sleep tank before moving into the adjoining en suite bathroom.
Minutes later she emerged and crossed to the bed, slid beneath the covers and reached for a book.
She managed to read two pages without absorbing so much as a word, and she was about to return it to the nightstand when the bedroom door opened and Raúl entered the room.
Gianna’s eyes widened with disbelief. ‘What are you doing?’ Words momentarily failed her. ‘I’m not having sex with you.’
‘Your call,’ he drawled with indolent ease, and began unbuttoning his shirt. ‘Sleeping is fine.’
CHAPTER TEN
‘IF YOU think you’re sharing my bed…’ She trailed off as her anger began to heat as he discarded his shirt, then freed the zip fastening on his trousers. ‘It’s not going to happen.’
She escaped the bed as he slid into it, and without thought snatched up a pillow and threw it at him.
He caught it easily, and she gritted her teeth as he returned it to its original position.
‘You want to play?’
‘No.’
‘Then, unless you intend standing there indefinitely, I suggest you get into bed.’ For a long moment he regarded her in silence. ‘Sleep is the operative word.’ He waited a beat. ‘Together.’
Gianna wanted to