Kate Walker - The Alcolar Family

Her gaze dropped to the strong, tanned fingers still clenched around her arm, then back up to his face, the reproach in them so strong that he instinctively released her, taking a step back.

‘ Perdón .’

‘Okay.’

She flashed that meaningless smile once again. Dios , but he truly hated the insincerity of it! But then almost immediately her expression changed.

‘No, actually, it’s not okay! Not at all! There’s nothing okay about it. What do you think you’re doing—manhandling me like that?’

‘Manhandling?’

In his indignation, his accent and pronunciation mangled the word so that it was almost incomprehensible.

‘ Manhandling? You call that manhandling? What has happened to you, my Cassie? You never used to be like this. You always used to like my touch…’

A rush of cold anger at her rejection, the words she had used, pushed him forward, eyes fixed on her face, noting the suddenly watchful expression, the flicker of something new and uncertain deep in those blue eyes.

‘Loved it…’

‘Well not the way you got hold of me just then! I didn’t like that! And I certainly didn’t love it!’

‘I hurt you? If I did I’m sorry—’

‘You didn’t hurt me! At least, not in the way you think!’

The defiant tilt to her chin was pure provocation; an extra spark in the brilliance of her eyes created an answering fire in the most primitively masculine parts of his body. His heart gave a sharp kick, making his blood pound heavily through his system.

And suddenly he knew that he had to touch her. Really touch her. And not in the way that she had accused him of, manhandling her. He wanted to hold her close, kiss away the blaze of rejection in her eyes…

‘And you can perdón till you’re blue in the face and it won’t do a blind bit of good!’ she flung at him furiously. ‘You’re not going to treat me like this and get away with it!’

The sting of the words made him check himself. Think.

He didn’t like the direction his thoughts led him in.

Joaquin drew his brows together sharply, not knowing in the mixture of disbelief, incomprehension and anger that was suddenly bubbling inside him exactly which emotion was uppermost. His frown revealed them all.

‘Treat you in what way, precisely, querida ? Cassandra, you’re really not making sense. And just what brought on this mood in the first place?’

‘You did!’

She was treading on dangerous ground here, Cassie admitted to herself. If she wasn’t prepared to tell him the real truth, then she was taking a risk even hinting at it. She had vowed that until Joaquin himself raised the topic of their year together then she wouldn’t say a word. Wouldn’t even hint at the way it was making her feel.

But an accusation like that last one came too close to what was really tearing her up inside.

‘And you can keep your hands off me!’

‘Oh, no, my lovely…’

He shook his dark head slowly but so emphatically, his voice a predatory purr.

‘That I cannot do. It is impossible. I cannot be with you, near you, and not touch you. I only have to look at you to want you, and you know that. Even now, when you are in this wild, crazy mood, my fingers itch to touch…’

He suited action to the words, reaching out and hooking one hand very gently around the back of her neck, the warmth of his palm along the soft skin of her throat, his thumb brushing her cheek.

‘To caress you.’

That strong, broad thumb moved against her flesh, stroking delicate, erotic circles that woke every nerve, bringing their endings rushing to the surface.

‘To hold you.’

His other hand trailed softly up the right side of her neck, silky touch moving over satin and raising cold prickles of awareness all over her body as it did so, making her shiver in uncontrollable response. A moment later her face was cupped in both his hands, being drawn slowly and irresistibly towards him.

‘Kiss you…’ he murmured, his breath warm against her lips.

No! It was a cry of protest in her mind as panic set in at the thought of just how easily he could do this. How casually, how often he used the fierce, blazing, physical passion between them to avoid anything truly emotional. To dodge talking about anything that mattered.

Like their future. If they had one.

She tried to shake her head, to break away, but he held her too firmly for that.

‘Cassandra, querida , you know what you do to me.’

And what he did to her. And it was happening right now, no matter how hard she struggled against it.

His kiss was pure Joaquin. Pure enticement; pure seduction in a caress. It snatched her thoughts from her brain, reduced what was left to nothing but mush, and left her adrift on a sea of sensation, floating, melting, not knowing where she had been going or why.

‘Joaquin…’

His name was a sigh against his mouth, drawn from her by the pressure of his lips on hers.

‘So now, mi belleza , how am I doing now?’

She could hear the smile in his voice though she couldn’t actually see it on his face.

‘How am I touching you?’

Warm arms slid round her, closing tight across her shoulders, drawing her to him with soft but irresistible strength.

‘How am I holding you? Am I manhandling you now?’

‘N-No…’

‘Should I take my hands off you?’

‘No!’

It was a cry of protest when the pressure of his arms eased slightly, and it seemed he would have drawn away.

‘No—not now…’

In her heart, even that faint lessening of his hold felt like a little death, like the loss of something most precious to her, and something she would do all she could to keep.

But at the same time, unwanted and unwelcome, a tiny, lingering voice of common sense was whispering at the back of what was left of her mind, underneath all the sensual onslaught.

No, no, no, no … it was saying, over and over. And in a very different tone from the one she had used.

It was like being in the middle of an emotional civil war where one part of her yearned to surrender to the sexual appeal of Joaquin’s touch, the heat that his kiss triggered all through her body. But at the same time that warning voice was demanding to know why she was making this so easy for him. Why she was going under without a struggle.

Because she didn’t want to fight. She didn’t want to struggle against her own feelings, her own desire to meet his kiss with her kiss, his caress with her own gentle touch. Even after just that one kiss, the feel of his arms around her, her whole body ached with a need that she could hardly control. She yearned to crush herself closer to him, to feel the heat and masculine power of his body against her own.

‘Not now…’ Joaquin echoed.

His mouth was on her throat now, making a slow, seductive journey from her shoulder to her jaw, kissing his way along. And Cassie would never have thought that there could be such variety in the simple sensation of a kiss.

But now it seemed that a kiss could be both hard and soft, light and then forceful against her neck. It could be oh, so tender and enticing, so that she felt she would almost weep at the gentleness of it. And then again it could be sharply, faintly cruel when his teeth grazed her skin, occasionally nipping lightly so that she gasped in shock.

‘Not now,’ he repeated, the words forming against her jaw-line in the warmth of his breath. ‘Now I am not manhandling you, but treating you as a woman should be treated. As a man should touch his woman—as I want to touch my woman.’

My woman .

The words were like a slap in the face, forcing her out of the heated daze into which she had fallen and making her look reality right in the eye.