Claiming His Convenient Fiancée

CHAPTER THREE

ALEJANDRO’S FINGERS TIGHTENED again on Kitty’s—extremely firmly.

But Kitty didn’t wince. She held her breath, waiting for the ultimate in public humiliation. It was suddenly so quiet, it was as if the rest of the world was holding its breath with her. This would actually be worse than when she’d finally found out about James’s infidelity. At least she’d been alone then and not in the centre of a roomful of people.

‘Sarah guessed,’ Kitty muttered as she finally braved a glance up at him and recklessly killed the silence that had been a fraction too long already. ‘She’s always been astute.’

His gaze imprisoned hers and for a second everyone in the room faded. His eyes were like banked furnaces, so very black but so very deep and there was a level of emotion in them that she’d not expected and that she couldn’t interpret.

Oh, God, she should just run away now.

His fingers tightened even more—to the point of pain—as if he’d read her mind and was physically preventing her escape. But she wanted to run. She had to. How could she ever explain?

Sarah—the one who’d never told her that her fiancé was sleeping with someone else. Sarah—who’d never been nice, who’d never welcomed her into the group, who’d never seemed to want her to succeed.

‘You’ve caught her out, Sarah,’ Alejandro said quietly.

Kitty started to die inside.

‘Catriona was reluctant to announce it so soon...’ He trailed off.

Sarah’s jaw dropped. So did Kitty’s, but she caught herself in time. She licked her lips, her heart thundering as she gazed at Alejandro. He was smiling? He was looking...satisfied?

He turned to face her nemesis intently. ‘We can trust you, can’t we?’

‘Of course,’ Sarah said weakly. ‘But I...er...might have been a bit loud just then.’

‘No matter.’ Alejandro smiled. ‘We’re all friends here.’

Did he underline the word ‘friends’? He still held Kitty’s hand in a vice but he was smiling.

‘Congratulations.’ Sarah looked stunned.

Alejandro lifted his free hand to place a finger over his lips and winked at her. ‘Shh, remember?’ Finally he turned to Kitty again. ‘Come along, Catriona. I think you need some fresh air.’

He set off at such a pace Kitty almost stumbled. If it weren’t for the grip he had on her hand, she might have. Instead he wrapped his other arm around her waist and—under the guise of attentive affection—practically dragged her out through the back room, past that bland dishwashing guy and out into the small private courtyard at the back.

Only once they were alone outside did he release her. Kitty took a quick few steps to the corner of the tiled courtyard. Then turned to face him.

‘We’re engaged?’ He sent her a look.

With the bright lights gleaming from the house, this one was easy to interpret. He was amused?

‘It’s your fault,’ she declared, instantly defensive. ‘I was trying not to be predictable. You dared me.’

‘So it’s my fault?’

‘This entire mess is your fault.’ She nodded firmly.

He slowly stepped closer. ‘You don’t feel any responsibility, given you’re the one who broke in and tried to steal from me?’

‘I didn’t break in; I used a key. And I wasn’t stealing anything that belongs to you.’

‘No? I wonder.’ He was watching her closely, then his smile returned, slow and seductive. ‘Catriona, you are going to pay for this, you know.’

‘Not in the way you’re thinking.’

He laughed and stepped so he was right in her personal space. ‘Very much in the way I’m thinking. You think these sparks can be ignored?’

She really wished his accent didn’t make his atrocious words sound so damn attractive. His laugh was low and did things to her insides and the cool air did nothing to settle the fever in her bones.

Now she really wished he’d stop looking at her like that. It made her hot and it was even harder to concentrate. And he knew it. He knew he was like catnip to every woman in the world. He loved it. She didn’t want to want him at all. But her stupid body recognised the talent and experience in his.

‘Is this the bit where you attempt to exert your sexual dominance over me?’ she growled as he stepped closer still.

He let out another burst of laughter, but he caught both her hands in his and forced them behind her back in a move of total sexual dominance. ‘No, this is the bit where I stop you from saying more stupid things in public.’

‘You have no right to censor me.’ She had no idea where the wildness came from. She’d never normally speak to anyone like this. Usually she’d duck her head and mind her own business and let Teddy do the talking.

‘Not censoring you,’ he chided wickedly. ‘Kissing you. To leave you speechless.’

‘You’re...what?’ Her jaw dropped. ‘You’re unbelievable.’

‘I know. So good.’ He mock preened.

But his proximity was getting to her—she could feel his strength and his size and, appallingly, she wanted to lean up against him! She stiffened instead. ‘You don’t think you’re hyping yourself up too much? I’m going to expect something so amazing you’re never going to be able to live up to it.’

‘I’m willing to take the risk.’

‘You’re willing to take a lot of risks.’

‘Possibly. But this is my home and you will not cause trouble when I have this many guests present.’

‘Then let me leave. With my necklace.’ She looked up and sent him a brilliant smile, pleased with her comeback. ‘It’s a very simple solution.’

‘No, that can’t happen now,’ he answered bluntly, his expression intent. ‘Stupid talk earns kissing, remember?’

Kitty didn’t get the chance to breathe, let alone reply. Because he’d bent his head and brushed his lips over hers. It was the softest, lightest kiss and not at all what she’d have expected. Silenced, stilled, she waited. There was another light, gentle caress—lips on lips. And then another.

That was when she realised he was the kind of lover who would take his time. Infinite time and care, to arouse her. The thing was, she didn’t need that much time. Her toes curled in the ends of her shoes as he kissed her again and she couldn’t help her slight gasp, the parting of her suddenly needy mouth. But he didn’t press closer, harder—instead, he kept the kiss light, almost sweet, and he was utterly in control. There was just that underlying edge as she absorbed the rigidity of his body...and started to realise that the tightness of his grasp on her wrists was no longer to hold her in place, but to hold himself back.

She looked up at him, bemused by his tender, go softly approach. He threw her a small smile, as if he knew exactly how much she’d anticipated a punishing kiss from him—all frantic passion and a duelling race to the finish line.

And she was not disappointed it hadn’t become that kind of kiss. Nor was she yearning for another.

‘That wasn’t enough?’ he teased knowingly. ‘You want a little more?’

‘That was more than enough,’ she lied with a little shrug. ‘I guess this is where you say we English have no passion.’

‘I’ve yet to meet a woman who doesn’t feel passion when she’s with me—’

‘You mean anger? Rage?’

He chuckled and brushed his thumb across her hyper-sensitised lips. ‘Too easy.’

Awareness rippled down her spine, a warm tide of liquid desire. It was impossible that she be so drawn to this man. He was a philanderer—a total playboy who’d had more lovers than she had freckles. And she had a lot of freckles.

He was just toying with her—too aware of his sensual power and utterly assured of his success.

‘I won’t be another of your numbers.’ She promised herself that.

‘No?’ He laughed and shook her gently. ‘You already are. More than that—you’re my fiancée.’

She died of mortification all over again. In the heat of that kiss she’d forgotten that nightmare moment. ‘Why didn’t you deny it?’ She swallowed.

‘I don’t like seeing anyone ganged up on,’ he said simply. ‘I dislike bullies. It was evident what was going on.’

What would the supremely successful Alejandro Martinez know about bullies? As she frowned at him another emotion flickered across his face. But he suddenly stepped back, looking as suavely in control as ever. He extended his hand to her and waited. That he was so astute surprised her. Now she knew why he hadn’t denied that outrageous engagement story to Sarah. He’d felt sorry for her. She felt worse than ever.

She hesitated, looking into his eyes, unable to read him at all now.

‘Let’s go back inside,’ he said quietly.

With a small sigh she put her hand in his and walked back into the house. But they didn’t return to the packed ground floor reception rooms; instead he led her up the stairs that she had previously used to get to the private library.

‘Stay here awhile, make yourself at home,’ he teased wolfishly as he showed her into the room.

She should have known that moment of kindness and humanity wouldn’t last in him.

‘Where are you going?’ She eyed him suspiciously.

He had his phone out and a key in his hand—one of the large old-fashioned keys that fitted the internal doors in this house.

‘I’m going to get rid of all my guests. I can do that better if you’re not with me.’

‘And you’re going to lock me in here while you do that?’ She folded her arms and called him on it. ‘What if there’s a fire?’

‘I’ll play the hero and rescue you.’ He simply smiled and looked rakish.

‘You’re no hero—you’re all villain.’

He flashed another smile. ‘Women always like the bad boy, isn’t that so?’

That was not so. She felt like flinging the cushions at him, except she wasn’t that childish. Guiltily she remembered her lies downstairs. She’d definitely acted like a proud, childish idiot then.

‘Don’t fret.’ He winked at her just before closing—and locking—the door. ‘I won’t be long.’

He was an inordinately long time. Eventually she heard voices spilling out into the street and resisted the urge to stand at the window and scream for a saviour. She’d made enough of a fool of herself here tonight. What had she been thinking when she’d led Sarah to think Alejandro had bought the house for her? That they were engaged?

Tired defeat permeated her. She’d been up since six, ready to get the train from Cornwall back to London. She’d not eaten on the journey and now she felt queasy. She turned off the main light and switched on the reading lamp, pouring herself a finger of whiskey from the decanter still on the table in the study.

She rarely drank spirits but right now she needed something and she trusted her father’s old single malt more than the concoctions that had been on offer downstairs. And, anyway, this was for medicinal purposes. The liquid hit her stomach and lit a ball of fire in it. She breathed out and closed her eyes, aching to relax properly. She’d spark up again when Alejandro returned. She just needed a bit of a rest now.

The heat drained from her. That kick of adrenalin vanished, leaving her tired and with a headache threatening. She kicked off her shoes and walked to the deep leather sofa that had been in her father’s study all her life, trying not to remember the number of times she’d curled up on it and waited late into the night for him to get home.

She’d spent so long trying to get her father’s attention. But he’d been preoccupied lecturing Teddy, the son and heir, and he’d been too busy wooing the glamorous women he’d had affairs with. She’d gifted him her best sculptures as a kid. She’d poured her heart into them, only to see them admired for a half second and then relegated to a bottom shelf to gather dust. They were never properly displayed, never shown off with pride, merely indulged for a brief moment before he turned elsewhere. Which was exactly the way he treated her.

All she’d wanted was for him to know her, to love her, to let her be... She was such a needy fool.

She’d thought James had understood and that he’d be true to her. But he’d been even worse. At least her father had never hidden his affairs from everyone.

‘I was just... I couldn’t help myself.’ Her father had tried to explain it to her the last time she’d seen him, just after she’d broken up with James, and she’d railed at him for being the same kind of cheat.

Impulse. Making that snap decision that was so often wrong. She’d inherited that faulty gene from him. Not when it came to lovers, but in every other aspect of her life for sure.

Her father had made bad business choices; he’d needed to sell property to get a cash injection because he’d known his time as a businessman was up. He’d wanted to retire to his flash estate in Corsica while he still could. And so he had. Leaving Teddy and her alone. But they were almost twenty-four and able to look after themselves.

Now she was exhausted from maintaining smiles in front of all those people. From restraining herself from losing her temper with Alejandro in front of them all. From reining in her reaction to the torment of his touches. From hiding the heartbreak at being back here and knowing she no longer belonged. That she’d never really belonged. There was nothing here for her any more.

She curled her legs under her on the sofa and told herself to shrug it off. She was fine. She’d go and stay with Teddy at one of his friends’ places tonight after having it out with Alejandro. She’d go back to Cornwall in the morning and get on with her new life. It was all going to be okay.

But in the meantime she slumped lower in the soft leather.

* * *

It took longer than Alejandro desired for his guests to get the idea it was time for them to leave. Admittedly his parties usually went on far later, but he needed to be alone with the vexatious redhead who’d tipped his night upside down. So he smiled, firmly shooting down the teasing pleas for the DJ to play on.

Finally he closed the door on the last couple of guests, who were still shocked and avidly curious. Yeah, that ‘friend’ of Catriona’s hadn’t kept her mouth shut. But he’d known she wouldn’t. They’d all known that.

Rolling his shoulders to ease the tension mounting in them, he lightly jogged up the stairs. His smile was tight. She was going to be furious with him for taking so long. But when he unlocked the door he wasn’t greeted with the instant volley of verbal abuse he’d expected. His breath froze in his lungs at the total silence in the room. Had she escaped somehow? He strode into the library then drew up short—the sight before him rendered him speechless. He simply stared.

She was fast asleep on the sofa, her body a sleek, long shadow of woman. Her skin shone pale in the soft light, but her hair was a riot of flames cascading about her face and shoulders. God, she was beautiful. Different. Sexy as hell.

Desire ripped through him—igniting a fierce animal urge to wake her, kiss her, claim her body with his, here and now. The longing to feel her beneath him was sudden and acute. He clenched his fists at the ferocity of the ache and forced himself to take a calming breath.

No. No.

He never wanted any woman as intensely as all that. He never felt anything as intensely as all that. He refused. He had reason to.

He breathed deeply again and reminded himself of his rational decisions. He hadn’t been going to make her stay the night—despite the teasing and the incredibly erotic pleasure of her kiss. He’d been planning to get to the bottom of the necklace situation and then say goodbye to her, hadn’t he?

But now here she was with her shoes off, fast asleep on the old sofa. He guessed it wasn’t the first time she’d slept on it.

He frowned as he quietly stepped closer to study her. He hadn’t seen just how pale she was earlier, or noticed those smudges under her eyes. She looked exhausted.

‘Catriona?’ he softly called to her. ‘Kitty?’

She didn’t stir. He’d known she wouldn’t. She was in too deep a sleep. Something twisted inside Alejandro as he understood how vulnerable she was in this moment and the degree to which he was entrusted with her care. An icy droplet snaked down his spine. This was a complication he hadn’t foreseen and didn’t particularly want. Maintaining the care and wellbeing of another was not his forte. But he fetched a blanket from his room and covered her to make her more comfortable until she woke of her own accord. He hoped she would soon.

He sat in the large armchair opposite the sofa and pulled the necklace from his pocket to inspect it properly in the lamplight. It was definitely worth serious money and she’d risked a lot to get it back. But it wasn’t hers.

Over the years, so many of those wealthy people he’d studied alongside had annoyed him when they’d shown a lack of appreciation of how damn lucky they were. He’d never taken his success or his security for granted. How could he when he’d come from worse than nothing? So he’d worked harder than any of them. Ensured his grades were the best. Swinging from one scholarship to the next, climbing higher and higher out of a life of poverty, misery, desperation. And his ‘party lifestyle’ that claimed all the headlines was but a tiny fraction of his time. The rest was spent working. Still working. Still achieving. Still ensuring success. And now a spoilt young woman had waltzed in to reclaim—what—her inheritance? The wealth she’d never had to earn for herself.

She’d been brazen and bold in her initial dismissal of him, outrageous in the reckless way she’d back-chatted him, and he’d fully planned to teach her a thing or two. Except he’d then heard the tone in which that other woman had spoken to her and there’d been no mistaking it. He hated bullies—whether they were the kind who used vicious words or the violent fists he’d experienced. So he hadn’t shamed her publicly. He’d backed her and there’d been no missing the bright relief in her eyes. But then her nerve in the private courtyard when she’d insisted it was all his fault? When he’d given in to that urge to kiss her?

He glanced at his Sleeping Beauty again—remembering the softness of her lips, the stirring in her muscles...the spark. He couldn’t regret that—no matter the complication that now arose.

But now he was stuck with the story that she and he were engaged. He’d smiled his way through the shocked shouts of congratulations from every one of his guests as he’d ushered them out. He’d explained that Catriona had been overwhelmed by the attention and that they’d have another party soon. It was ridiculous but he hadn’t been able to find it within himself to reveal the truth. He’d seen that vulnerability when she’d looked at him. He’d seen that hurt. It echoed within him. Didn’t he know what it was like to be that isolated? And afraid.

She was a contrary mix of assertiveness and insecurity, a bit broken but bluffing anyway. He liked that spirit. And he wanted her.

Well, if he was going to have her, he was going to have to play it carefully. She obviously wasn’t someone who went from affair to affair.