Cathy Williams - Latin Lovers - Passionate Spaniards

The look Isabella gave him in return for his comment definitely seemed to demonstrate her surprise that he would want to have her talk about herself.

‘I’m not bothered about the rain …I’ve got used to it. It’s kind of you to be interested in my book, but, to tell you the truth, I’ve had a long day’s walking,’ she replied apologetically, ‘and I was intending on making an early start in the morning. But thank you again for everything …for the food and wine and wonderful stories about the Camino.’

To his amusement and surprise she offered Leandro her hand. He glanced at it for only a moment before raising it to his lips and softly kissing the exquisitely satin skin that smelt so alluringly of jasmine. The hard muscled wall of his stomach tightened like an iron band encircling him as desire flared with the force of an incendiary and the heat it generated in him almost made him vocalise his pleasure out loud.

‘As unexpected as it was, you have accorded me much pleasure with your company tonight, Isabella …truly. But perhaps we can rectify the fact that I have learned so little about you, hmm? I have decided not to make my onward journey home to Pontevedra tonight after all. There is already a storm outside and it will only get worse, I am sure—not the best conditions for driving in. I was going to suggest we go somewhere else for the night and continue our conversation there? A friend of mine has a place not far from here. I can make a phone call and get a car to pick us up. We can be there in no time.’

He was—according to Emilia—one of the most famous film directors in all of Spain and he was suggesting that Isabella go with him to a place owned by a friend of his and spend the night there? As she considered the hand he had just kissed with its still-electrifying impression of the warmth of his lips and the brush of his beard her mind seemed incapable of forming a reply.

‘Isabella?’

In the absence of an answer, Leandro frowned, his high cheekbones and fascinating eyes leaving an indelible imprint on Isabella that she wouldn’t relinquish in a lifetime.

‘Yes?’

‘I want you to spend the night with me …you understand?’

He could ask the question in a dozen different languages and, from the almost fierce, hot look in his electrifying gaze, Isabella could not fail to comprehend his meaning. The question was …what should she do about it? In some secret hopeful, delighted place inside of her the decision was already made. Yet still Isabella fought against the powerful heated undertow, terrified of being overwhelmed by it—of being too reckless and living to regret it …Not because she didn’t desire Leandro—but because she desired him almost too much.

‘I understand perfectly. But I’m afraid that can’t be, Leandro.’ She dipped her head, feeling her face flame red beneath his mocking examination. Surely her lack of sophistication would only amuse him? ‘I’m here to walk the Camino. That really has to be my focus.’

At her unexpected, soft-voiced repudiation of his suggestion Leandro wanted Isabella even more. The wanting was akin to the slow, heavy heat that made a person tense and expectant for that heart-jolting crash of thunder just before a storm. In the end you longed for the release. That longing dictated that he couldn’t let her go—that any move she made to put any kind of distance between them would have to be diverted because now he was determined to have her at all costs. His friend Benito’s hotel was just a few kilometres away. The man was one of Leandro’s oldest friends and implicitly understood his need for privacy. There would be no danger of the paparazzi getting wind that he was staying there. Leandro would have all night to seduce Isabella and enjoy her company. Now the idea had entered his head, it quickly became a fixation. ‘I want you to come with me. Now that it comes down to it, I find I cannot let you go.’

As seductive and flattering as his declaration was, Isabella knew she could not simply succumb to his request because he had expressed it so forcefully. Did she really want to risk having her heart broken by this man? Because right now, from where she was standing, that was a distinct possibility. She’d never met a man who was so hard to resist and frankly it scared the daylights out of her. Especially so since she was still feeling vulnerable over the mistake she’d made over Patrick.

‘I really can’t stay, Leandro.’ Isabella’s throat tightened unbearably. ‘I need to get back to my hotel before—’

‘I do not accept that you cannot stay!’

He crushed her mouth beneath his own, in that blind, heated moment of desire, not caring that he might bruise her too tender lips or scratch her delicate skin with his beard-roughened jaw. All Leandro knew was that the need to touch her was a compulsion he could not resist …The need to feel her soft, womanly body in his arms and breathe in all the utterly feminine scents that threatened to make him slowly lose his mind was the one driving imperative that he could not ignore. Isabella had been driving him slowly crazy with want, all evening. When he finally and abruptly released her, her dark eyes were as large and as liquid as a startled doe’s and several strands of ebony silk had escaped in a riot of soft tendrils from her pony-tail.

Catching her hand, Leandro calculatingly employed his most devastating smile.

‘It is just one night. Isabella … one night. We can sleep together in a comfortable bed and really get to know each other. Tomorrow night you will be in a different place again, in a different bed—perhaps in one of the refugios where there is scant comfort—and you will think of me and perhaps wonder what it might have been like between us had you agreed to come with me tonight. Life is too short for regrets—do you not agree?’

Isabella’s heart nearly stopped beating at the look that came her way from his seductive grey eyes. Her feet still hadn’t touched the ground since his almost savagely passionate kiss and the pure devastation it had wrought inside her. No man had ever kissed her with such barely controlled desire …And suddenly Isabella knew that she didn’t want Leandro Reyes to be her one big regret. She wanted to look back in years to come and think how fortunate she was that fate had decreed that their paths should cross. She might never experience such burning passion with anyone ever again after this and the irresistible connection she had with Leandro would have to sustain her for the rest of her life if that turned out to be the case …Slipping the strap of her canvas bag awkwardly over her shoulder, she acknowledged his too seductive remark with a hot flurry of excitement and trepidation inside her breast. Her legs were shaking as she spoke.

‘I agree that life is too short for regrets. But I want you to know that if I go with you, this isn’t the kind of thing I make a habit of doing.’

‘Of course.’ His eyes danced with disturbing amusement. ‘Let me call my friend and arrange for a car to pick us up, then I will pay Señor Varez for our meal and we will go.’

Leandro had left her alone to settle into their room. He was downstairs talking to his friend Benito, who had welcomed Isabella with indisputable warmth yet had still maintained a respectful distance. She had quaked inside when she’d seen where Leandro had brought her. Looming out of the rainy night, the hotel resembled an imposing fortress belonging to the Conquistadors. Now, trying to absorb every feature and facet of the seriously opulent room they’d been given, Isabella glanced down at her rain-splattered shirt and jeans and knew she probably looked a million miles away from the kind of prosperous and well-heeled guests that must stay here.