Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride

Chapter Two

‘JANE! Meet Pete—he split up with his fiancée back home a few months ago and moved here to lick his wounds.’

Jane had to hold back a smile at Sherry’s effervescent indiscretion, and stuck out her hand to the other man. ‘Pleased to meet you. I’m Jane Vaughan.’

He was pleasantly attractive, with nothing overpowering about him—brown hair, brown eyes, nice smile. No chemistry whatsoever. Jane relaxed, and they settled into a light easy conversation. When the band struck up a slow jazzy tune Pete stood and asked her to dance. As she went into his arms on the dance floor she had to admit that it was all very agreeable. This was much more her scene than the messily overwhelming attraction she had felt for the stranger. Heat induced lust. This she could handle. That … She shivered at the thought.

Pete tightened his arms around her. ‘Hey, are you cold?’

Jane immediately recoiled, surprised at the strength of her reaction. ‘No!’ she said, far too quickly, amending it with a smile. ‘No … just a little tired. Maybe if we could sit down again …’

As they approached the table another woman was leaving and waving gaily at Sherry, who turned gleaming eyes on Jane as she sat down. ‘You’ll never guess what I just found out.’

Jane obediently supplied, ‘What?’

The men took themselves off to the bar, muttering something about women and gossip. It made Jane cringe a little, but Sherry was leaning over the table, saying with a loud whisper, ‘That guy … the gorgeous hunk from earlier … well, don’t look now, but he’s behind you on the other side of the pool, and he’s been looking this way.’

Immediately Jane’s back straightened, and she started breathing faster. She just managed to stop herself from turning around, but Sherry was doing it for her, looking over Jane’s shoulder. A frown marred her pretty features,

‘Shoot—he’s gone. Oh, well … anyway, wait till you hear what I found out from Tilly Brown. He’s Mr Island!’ She looked at Jane as if to say, Don’t you get it? Jane just looked back blankly. What on earth did she mean?

Sherry sighed exaggeratedly. ‘He owns the island we were on today. He’s the billionaire. His name is—get this for a mouthful—Xavier Salgado-Lézille, and he owns this whole complex too. Can you believe that? To think that we saw him and didn’t know. I’m so dumb …’

Jane sat there stunned as Sherry chattered on. It made sense now—his presence, the authority he commanded. She recognised that he must have assumed she was a guest at the hotel. His reaction to her refusal earlier didn’t surprise her now. She doubted that many women would turn down someone like him.

‘And the best thing is,’ Sherry continued, pausing for dramatic effect, ‘he’s a bachelor. Well, actually a notorious playboy, incapable of commitment some say—they call him the Prince of Darkness because he’s so dark and brooding and—’

‘You really shouldn’t listen to idle gossip you know.’

The deep voice beside them could have cut through steel. They both looked up to find the object of their conversation beside the table. The epitome of wealth and sophistication in an impeccable tuxedo. The man who had loomed large in Jane’s imagination for two days now had a name—and an island, a hotel chain, a wine label, a reputation. Her head swirled. Sherry didn’t even have the grace to blush, but Jane did, horribly aware of how they must have looked, their heads close together like conspirators.

‘Why, Mr Salgado-Lézille—why don’t you join us?’

‘Please, Mr Salgado will do. The full name is such a … mouthful … if that’s the right term.’

Jane cringed, going even pinker with embarrassment, and she marvelled at Sherry’s hide, which was as thick as a rhinoceros. He flicked Sherry a dismissive glance and turned his attention to Jane, holding out a hand in a clear invitation to dance. She couldn’t refuse. Especially after what had just happened. Wordlessly she put her hand in his much larger one and felt a tingle go up her arm as he lightly guided her onto the dance floor.

Drawing into his arms, Jane fought for composure. The difference between this man and Pete from only a few moments ago was laughable. This was what she had been afraid of—this melting feeling, a hyper-awareness of every part of her skin, an acute consciousness of the way her body seemed to want to fuse with his. His scent was clean and crisp, with a hint of some indefinably erotic element. The man himself, she guessed.

One arm held her securely, high across her back, his hand curving around to just beside her breast. His other hand held hers lightly against his chest. They said nothing, swaying together in perfect unison. When the song ended he held her fast when she would have pulled away until another number started up.

‘Don’t you think you owe me at least one more dance?’

Jane lifted her head and looked up into his eyes. ‘Of … of course.’

His eyes glinted in the flickering light of the candles all around them, a small hard smile playing around his mouth.

As they started to move again she felt she had to say something, blurting out, ‘I’m sorry about Sherry … That is, I don’t even really know her. I’d hate for you to think that you were the subject of our …’ She trailed off, reminding herself that she had been listening to Sherry with bated breath. ‘I thought you were just one of the pilots …’

Even as the words came out she wanted to grab them back. But it was too late. She couldn’t mistake the cynical edge to his voice,

‘Ah … I should have known. It is much easier to accept a dance, or dinner for that matter, from the owner of a hotel rather than just a pilot.’

She pulled back as far as he would allow, every line in her body indignant. ‘I didn’t mean it like that … that had nothing to do with anything, Mr Salgado. The reason I declined your invitation earlier was because—’ She broke off. As if she could tell him that the reason she’d turned him down was because her reaction to him had scared the life out of her.

‘Well?’ he prompted softly, one dark brow lifted.

‘I … I, well, as you can see I had made arrangements with Sherry and Brad.’ She crossed her fingers, hating the lie, but self-preservation was more important. ‘I’m not actually staying here … I’m alone, staying at a friend’s villa on the hill. I ended up on the day trip by mistake earlier, and they invited me for dinner.’

It wasn’t a complete lie, she reassured herself. Their invitation had just come after his.

He frowned slightly. ‘The tour manager told me about someone who had inadvertently ended up on a trip coming in afterwards to pay … was that you?’

‘I guess so … unless there was someone else.’

‘Quite an enigma, aren’t you? Miss …?’

‘Vaughan. Jane Vaughan.’

He stepped back for a moment and made a courteous bow, taking her hand. ‘Pleased to meet you, Miss Vaughan.’

And then he kissed her hand. She could feel his lips firm and yet soft against her skin, and the fluttering excitement grew stronger in her belly.

‘Let’s start again,’ he said, in a low seductive voice, tucking her into him even closer than before.

Jane fought an internal battle for a few seconds and then gave in. It was too strong … this … whatever it was that she was feeling. She allowed her head to fall into the crook of his neck and shoulder, closing her eyes. A perfect fit.

His hand on her back was moving in slow sensuous circles, grazing her bare skin. She could feel her breasts grow heavier, sensitive against the material of her dress. When he shifted subtly she could feel the thrust of his arousal low against her belly. She pulled back for a second, but Xavier felt it and caught her even closer, growling into her ear, ‘You can’t move now. Everyone will see what you’re doing to me.’

Jane blushed scarlet to the roots of her hair. The next few minutes were an exercise in erotic torture. She had never felt anything like this in her life. Completely unaware of everyone around them. Burning up.

Finally, when she feared her very legs weren’t capable of holding her up any more, he pulled back, but held onto her hand. Dark green eyes glittered into blue ones.

‘Let’s get out of here.’

She nodded mutely. She was being swept away on a tidal wave of feelings and sensations. Sanity tried to break through her consciousness but she pushed it aside. She couldn’t let this second chance slip away.

They were in the alcove that led outside to the front of the building and the gardens. Muslin drapes fluttered around them, acting as a shield between the lobby and the main entrance. Jane stopped suddenly. ‘Wait!’ She turned horrified eyes to his. ‘I can’t just leave … I’m with people … Pete.’

How could she have forgotten and be so unquestionably rude? No matter what wild spirit seemed to have taken her over, there was no excuse for leaving so abruptly. And, more to the point, the fact that this man had made her take leave of her senses so easily caused a panicky sensation in her belly.

Xavier’s eyes narrowed as he looked down at her and took in her expressive face. He had forgotten about her companions too … all he had been aware of was getting her out of there to some private place where he could explore that lush mouth and—

‘I’m sorry, Mr Salgado—’

‘Xavier, please …’

She couldn’t bring herself to say his name. ‘I’ll have to go back to the others. I really can’t just run out on them like this.’

She hoped that the regret in her voice didn’t sound too obvious. But the heavy disappointment in her chest dispelled any panic. He’d wouldn’t indulge her again. No doubt he thought she must be playing some game with him. She watched with dismay as he seemed to concur.

‘You are right. It would be remiss of me to take you away. But be under no illusion that if you weren’t obliged to return then right now I would be doing this …’

Before she knew what was happening he had pulled her close, one arm around her back, the other cradling her head, covering her mouth with his. Taking advantage of her startled sigh, he expertly plundered the moist interior, exploring, tracing her lips. When his tongue sought and found hers, stroking with sure mastery, a white-hot flame of desire raced through her body. Her hands clenched on his shoulders in reaction. She was lost in the moment … and in him.

Reluctantly Xavier lifted his head to look down. She took a second to open glazed eyes, lashes long against her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted slightly. He felt the tremor in the body held tightly against his. She would be his, of that he had no doubt. He had branded her.

Jane stepped back and tried to control her breathing, just managing to stop herself from bringing a hand up to feel her lips. Crazily, she felt as if he had just marked her in some way. She had heard about kisses like that, and thought it was some pathetic fantasy, or Lisa waxing lyrical about her latest obsession … but it wasn’t. If he hadn’t stopped when he had …

She had been reduced to mush by little more than a kiss.

‘Yes … well … I … have to …’

‘Have lunch with me tomorrow.’

He still wanted to see her?

She looked at him helplessly. She felt like a moth that was being attracted to a flame with danger written all over it, but the pull was so inexorable that she couldn’t help herself. She took a deep breath. The new Jane. Quash the panic. She felt shaky.

‘I’d like that.’

‘Which villa are you staying at?’

She told him the address.

‘Bien. I will pick you up at midday … till then.’

He strode back into the lobby and got into the lift without a backward glance.

Jane wandered back out to the poolside table in a daze. Sherry squealed when she saw her arrive. Remarkably, the men still hadn’t returned from the bar. Jane felt as though whole lifetimes had passed since Xavier had asked her to dance.

She fielded Sherry’s questions, being as vague as possible. When the men arrived back poor Pete didn’t stand a chance. He tried to press a kiss to her lips before she left at the end of the evening, but she gave him her cheek. Somehow the thought of anyone else kissing her where Xavier had was anathema.

She didn’t see the look of triumph on the face of the man watching from his penthouse suite overlooking the pool.

Back in the villa, Jane couldn’t settle and went up to the terrace which overlooked the twinkling lights of the town below, still feeling slightly dazed. Her thoughts drifted to her mother, who she hoped was enjoying much the same view. She was on her honeymoon in Cyprus, with Arthur, the man she’d met a year previously. Jane thought of the recent wedding day with a smile. How proud she had been to give her mother away to such a kind, gentle man. If anyone deserved another stab at happiness it was she.

Since her father had died at just thirty, leaving her mother penniless, with Jane still a baby, it had been a monumental struggle. Her mother had changed overnight from a relatively carefree newlywed to a woman who had had to seek work to make ends meet. Sometimes she worked three jobs at once, just to put food on the table and get Jane through school and then college, despite Jane working too to help out.

Even when Jane had finished her degree and had begun working as a teacher her mother had refused money, insisting that she build up a nest egg for herself.

Years of worry and work had sapped her mother’s joy and increased Jane’s concern. But now … now she was allowing herself to feel love and happiness again, and if she could embrace a new lease on life then so could Jane.

Starting tomorrow.

With a shiver of anticipation snaking down her spine she finally left the view.

Chapter Three

WHEN she woke the next morning Jane couldn’t believe she had slept at all—much less for … She consulted her watch in disbelief—ten hours straight. Which meant, she realised with a lurch of panic, that she had exactly one hour before Xavier was due to pick her up for lunch.

She sprang out of bed and after a quick shower regarded her wardrobe, plucking a pair of white culottes from the messy pile, and a striped white and black halterneck top. She smoothed her hair behind her ears, and with espadrilles and a pair of hoop earrings was just about ready to go downstairs when the doorbell rang.

Already!

She took a few deep breaths and walked to the front door, trying to calm the butterflies in her belly.

Be cool, be calm, be sophisticated.

She opened the door, the smile on her face fading and her mouth going dry when she took in the man in front of her. Pure devastation. He was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded across his broad chest, showing his muscles off to perfection. He wore a casually faded black T-shirt and jeans, scuffed deck shoes on his bare feet. She could feel her face colour as she brought her eyes back up. She had just examined him … and blatantly!

She couldn’t see his eyes, as they were hidden behind dark shades, but she saw all too well the way his mouth quirked.

‘I hope I pass inspection?’

What could she do? She had been caught out beautifully. She had to smile, revealing small, even white teeth and a dimple in her cheek.

‘You’ll do.’

She bent down to pick up her bag, where she’d stuffed her bikini and a sarong among other bits and pieces, not sure what he had planned, and pulled the door behind her, careful to lock it securely. He took the bag from her and led the way to his car. She was glad to see that although it was a convertible it wasn’t one of those tiny low-slung things that she privately thought looked ridiculous.

As he negotiated his way down the small winding streets with casual expertise she started to relax and look around. She was very aware of his tanned hands on the wheel, moving to the gear-stick near her leg, and of the long fingers with short square nails. She swallowed and quickly put on the shades that had been resting on her head in case he caught her staring again.

‘How long are you here for?’ he asked idly.

‘Just another week; I’ve already been here for one. This is such a treat.’

‘What is?’

Nerves made her babble. ‘To be taken out … driven around. I have a hire car, but this place is like a labyrinth … The first day it took me an hour to find my way back up the hill from the town.’

‘I know … it is getting crazier, with more and more tourists … We’re hoping that they’ll make the centre of the town entirely for pedestrians only; it’s small enough, so it could work.’

His comment reminded her who she was dealing with. He wasn’t just a local, he was the local. She felt intimidated all of a sudden.

He cast a curious glance her way. ‘Cat got your tongue?’

She shrugged lightly, honesty prevailing. ‘I know this might sound silly, but I keep forgetting that you are … who you are. You own that entire island … that hotel chain. I guess it’s just a little overwhelming. I bump into you in the street two days ago and now here I am in your car.’ She gave a nervous laugh.