Kate Hardy - The Spanish Doctor's Love-Child

The idea made her whole body quiver; she could feel her nipples hardening at the thought. Being carried to Leandro’s bed. And he’d be as good a lover as he was a dancer. Looking out for her, making sure her pleasure was as great as his.

But there was a problem. A huge one. Because she didn’t want her heart broken again. She’d been there when her marriage had broken up—and then, just when she’d thought she’d reached the lowest point, she’d discovered she could hurt even more.

And she was never, ever going to take that kind of risk again.

Work, at least, was safe. Something she was good at. Something where she could make the world a better place.

She dragged in a breath. ‘There’s something I should tell you. I’m not looking for a relationship.’

‘I’m not looking for a relationship either. I’m about to start a new job.’ He spread his hands. ‘I don’t have time for anything except my work.’

So if they did this, it would be for one night only.

One perfect night with a stranger.

Tempting. So tempting. But even if this was going to be just for one night, she didn’t want him thinking badly of her. She didn’t want him thinking that she made a habit of going off with complete strangers. ‘I don’t do one-night stands, as a rule.’

He inclined his head. ‘Then I’ll respect your wishes and call you a taxi.’

It would be the sensible thing to do.

But after the days she’d spent in London and the miserable day at work, Becky needed warmth. Needed to feel .

She shook her head. ‘I don’t want you to call a taxi.’

Her words came out in a whisper, and Leandro’s pulse quickened. ‘You want to stay here with me?’

She nodded.

‘Just for tonight.’ He needed this to be clear. He’d already seen what relationships did to people—he’d grown up knowing that his mother’s heart was cracked in two. And he wasn’t going to let that happen to him. So he’d concentrated on work: keeping his relationships for fun and his heart intact. Despite the physical pull he felt towards Becky Marston, that wasn’t going to change. His focus was on his career, and it was going to stay that way.

‘Just for tonight,’ she confirmed.

Heat flared at the base of his spine. ‘You’re sure about this?’

She lifted her chin. ‘I’m sure. Very sure.’

He bent his head and kissed her. Hot and hard. And when he lifted his head he could see desire reflected in her eyes. ‘ Ets molto atractiva .’

‘Sorry?’

Idiot. He needed to remember she didn’t speak Catalan. ‘I said,’ he translated softly, ‘you’re beautiful.’ He stole another kiss. ‘You should know, I don’t make a habit of this.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘I didn’t think you did.’

She swallowed hard. ‘And there’s something else you should know. I’m a bit out of practice.’

She didn’t say so aloud, but he could read it in her eyes—she was worried that she’d disappoint him.

He smiled and rubbed the pad of his thumb along her lower lip. ‘That isn’t a problem. I have a feeling that this is going to be good—for both of us.’

CHAPTER THREE

LEANDRO took Becky’s hand and led her to the stairs. Then he stopped, looked at her, said something in rapid Catalan and scooped her up with one hand under her knees and the other round her waist. She slid her arms round his neck for balance, and he carried her up the stairs as if she were a slender five-foot waif instead of curvy and five feet seven.

It should’ve felt macho and offputting.

Instead, it sent a kick of desire through her. That this gorgeous man wanted her so much he couldn’t wait to carry her to his bed.

He pushed the door open with his foot, then set her back down on her feet next to the bed before going over to the window and closing the curtains.

Tonight she was acting out of character, but she wasn’t going to be completely reckless. ‘Do you have protection?’

He nodded. ‘I have protection. Not that I was planning this to happen tonight,’ he added. ‘My suggestion of dinner meant just that: dinner.’

‘Think of this an unexpected bonus,’ she said softly.

He walked back over to her and brushed his mouth against hers. ‘For both of us, estimada .’ He switched on the bedside light and came to stand behind her, wrapping his arms round her waist and pulling her back against him. He dipped his head and kissed the nape of her neck. ‘You smell lovely,’ he said softly. ‘Like chocolate.’

And so she should: the expensive bubble bath Tanya had given her for her birthday smelt of chocolate. She felt the warmth of his mouth against her nape again.

‘Mmm. You taste of chocolate, too,’ he murmured. ‘And I’m hungry.’

She knew exactly what he meant. Although they’d just eaten, she too was hungry.

Not for food.

For him.

And the way he was kissing her neck was the most arousing thing she’d ever experienced in her life.

He eased himself away from her for just long enough to undo the zip of her black shift dress. Slowly, so slowly, and his mouth traced a path down her spine as he uncovered her skin. When he reached the fastening of her bra, he unsnapped it, then slid the straps of her dress over her shoulders, drawing the straps of her bra down at the same time. As the fabric fell to her waist, he drew a line of kisses from the curve of her shoulder to the curve of her neck—tiny, open-mouthed kisses that made her want more.

She spun round to face him, letting her dress and her bra fall to the floor. Lord, his mouth was beautiful. If she could sculpt, she’d definitely want him as a model. She reached up on tiptoe and kissed him; as he responded, letting her explore his mouth in turn, she undid the buttons of his shirt and slid her palms across his pectoral muscles.

Perfect musculature.

She kissed her way down his throat, nipping gently and feeling a surge of satisfaction as he couldn’t suppress an ‘oh’ of pleasure.

Half-dressed, he was gorgeous. He had smooth olive skin, with a scattering of dark hair across his chest—enough to be sexy but not so much that it was offputting.

She’d just bet that, at the beach, he turned heads. Of women who wanted to be with him—and men who wanted to be him.

She pushed the material off his shoulders, letting his shirt pool next to her dress on the floor. ‘You’re beautiful,’ she said softly. ‘I take it you work out at the gym?’

‘No.’

She drew her fingertips down his arms. Again, perfect musculature without a hint of flab. ‘You feel like someone who takes care of his body, not a couch potato. So if you don’t go to the gym, you must do some kind of sport.’

He nodded. ‘I run most mornings. And I fence.’

She felt her eye widen. ‘With a sword?’

‘A foil,’ he corrected her.

She could imagine him as a Spanish pirate on a ship, swashbuckling his way through danger. Or even better, in eighteenth-century France with tight black trousers and a ruffled shirt. ‘I can see you as one of the Three Musketeers.’ She slid her fingers though his hair. ‘With long hair, you’d look amazing.’

His eyes glittered with amusement. ‘ Gràcies —but I don’t think that would go down too well with my boss.’

‘What do you do?’ she asked, suddenly curious.

He shook his head. ‘I don’t want to talk about work tonight—right now it’s just you and me and I want to make love with you, Becky. I want to kiss you. Now.’

She tipped her head back slightly in invitation, and he wasn’t slow to take her up on it. His mouth was warm and strong against hers, and his tongue slid into her mouth, mirroring the action his body would make later.