Nights of Passion: Mendez's Mistress / Bedded for the Italian's Pleasure / The Pregnancy Affair

‘Mum!’

Daisy’s cry of protest was predictable, but Rachel couldn’t help that. ‘It’s too much,’ she said, avoiding Joe’s dark gaze. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘But Mum …’

Daisy was getting tearful now, and Joe felt a surge of impatience as Rachel held her ground. He’d wanted to do this for Daisy; wanted to give her something to make her time in hospital more fun. And give him an excuse to visit her again, he admitted ruefully. Because, now that Rachel was here, he definitely wanted to see her again, whatever excuse he had to make.

‘Mum, you can’t stop me from having it,’ Daisy was saying sulkily. ‘It’s mine, not yours. Mr Mendez has already downloaded a load of teen movies, so I’m not bored while I’m lying here.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Rachel muttered, but now she couldn’t prevent her gaze from shifting to Joe’s dark face. He should have known better, she thought crossly. He hardly knew the child.

‘How about if Daisy only borrows it while she’s in the hospital?’ he suggested mildly. ‘I don’t mind. I’ve got a stack of them lying around the place. It’s no big deal.’

Not for you, maybe, Rachel brooded, aware she was fighting a losing battle. Joe was determined to win this argument and she was fairly sure there was humour lurking behind his eyes. He was probably enjoying her confusion. Another anecdote to regale her ex-husband with perhaps?

‘Please, Mum.’ Now that she saw a glimmer of hope on the horizon, Daisy was prepared to be docile. With an appealing smile, she added, ‘Are those chocolates for me?’

‘What?’ Rachel became aware that she was practically squashing the box of chocolates to her chest. ‘Oh, yes.’ With a hurried gesture, she handed the box over. ‘Sorry. They may be a bit soft.’

‘Unlike the giver,’ murmured Joe, crossing the room and dropping the mocking remark in her ear. Then, turning back, ‘Bye, Daisy. I guess I’ll see you both later.’

CHAPTER TEN

‘THANKS, Mr Mendez.’

Daisy evidently thought the controversy was over, but as Joe closed the door behind him Rachel knew she wasn’t prepared to leave it like that. ‘I won’t be a minute,’ she said to her startled daughter, and jerking open the door again, she stepped into the corridor outside.

‘Mr Mendez!’

Closing Daisy’s door, she called his name, and Joe, who had almost reached the double doors into the reception area, paused at once. Turning, he saw her, and Rachel couldn’t deny a ridiculous sense of satisfaction when he strolled back to her.

‘Hi,’ he said, as if they hadn’t just been involved in a dispute in Daisy’s room. ‘What can I do for you?’

Rachel pressed the palms of her hands together, not knowing how she was going to handle this. ‘I wish you hadn’t given Daisy such an expensive present,’ she said at last, and Joe’s mouth took on a cynical twist.

‘Well, hey, and I thought you were going to thank me for loaning you that automobile,’ he remarked drily, hands on his hips. ‘I should have known better.’

Rachel sighed. ‘I don’t know anything about an automobile,’ she said, ignoring what Luther had told her. ‘And you’re deliberately confusing me …’

‘Am I?’ He didn’t sound concerned. ‘So?’

‘So …’ Rachel glanced up into his disturbing face, wishing she had more experience in these matters. These days all her knowledge of men seemed to come from books she’d written or read, and she couldn’t manipulate Joe Mendez like she could one of her characters. ‘I—er—I’d like your word that you won’t turn Daisy’s head with any more extravagant gifts. She’s an impressionable teenager, and although we’re not poor by any means, I can’t afford to spend hundreds of pounds—dollars—every time she sees something she wants.’

A muscle in Joe’s jaw jerked spasmodically. ‘You don’t pull your punches, do you, Ms Carlyle?’ he said coldly. ‘Believe it or not, I didn’t give Daisy the video iPod with any intention of turning her head or encouraging her to believe that she can get anything she wants without working for it.’

‘No?’

It was obvious Rachel didn’t believe him, and Joe felt compelled to go on. ‘No,’ he said flatly. ‘I don’t care what you believe, but I haven’t always been in the happy position of being able to afford anything that takes my fancy either. Growing up, my family was like yours, except we were immigrants. I didn’t go short, but I always knew I’d have to work if I wanted to make a success of my life.’

Rachel stared at him. ‘But your family owns a multi-million-dollar company,’ she protested, and Joe gave an angry snort.

‘Yeah, they do now,’ he conceded. ‘My father was fortunate enough to understand computers, and between us we found a way to use macro technology to simplify disciplines in science and economics. We were lucky. Our idea took off. But that was only ten years ago, after I left Harvard.’

‘Harvard!’ Rachel’s eyes widened and Joe pulled a wry face.

‘Yeah, Harvard,’ he agreed. ‘What can I tell you? I was a bright student. A guy can get sponsorship if he’s clever enough.’

‘And you were? Clever enough, I mean?’

‘No.’ Joe found he couldn’t lie to her, even if his answer caused her to give him a cynical look. ‘Actually, my grandparents supported me.’ He grimaced. ‘That part was easy. Staying there wasn’t.’

‘Oh, well …’ Rachel shrugged. ‘It’s nothing to do with me, is it?’

‘No, it’s not.’ Joe’s voice was terse and she could sense he was impatient. ‘But you’ve made it a bone of contention between us and I’m entitled to defend myself.’ He raked a hand through his short hair, causing it to spike on top of his head. ‘Damn it, I don’t know why we’re having this conversation. It’s obvious you don’t believe a single word I’ve said.’

Rachel blinked. ‘I didn’t say I didn’t believe you.’

‘You didn’t have to.’ His voice was harsh. ‘God, why do I let you get under my skin?’

Rachel swallowed. The corridor seemed very empty suddenly. ‘I didn’t know I did,’ she protested, feeling the flesh on her arms prickle with anticipation, and he scowled.

‘Well, you do,’ he told her roughly, and she thought he was going to turn and stride back the way he’d come. But instead he reached for her, pulling her in closer so he could cover her mouth with his.

Desire came hot and fast, her bones melting as his hungry tongue thrust into her mouth. His hands gripped her hips, jerking her against him, and the hardness of his body was unmistakeable.

Joe groaned. This wasn’t meant to have happened. He’d spent over a week—and all of last night, incidentally—telling himself that he’d imagined the effect she had on him. He’d known women before, plenty of them, and he’d always been able to walk away without looking back. For God’s sake, he hadn’t even slept with Rachel, yet he hungered for her with a need that defied description.

There was something about her that made the blood run hot in his veins and caused a wholly carnal reaction in his groin. For heaven’s sake, he’d been half-aroused since she’d walked into Daisy’s room in those so-conservative shorts that nonetheless displayed the sexy length of her legs.

He’d wanted to touch her then, to run his fingers up the insides of her thighs and discover for himself if she was as aroused as he was. He’d wanted to bury his face between her breasts and lick the beads of sweat from her delectable cleavage.

His hands slid around her, finding the curve of her spine, the provocative separation of her bottom. He moulded her to him, her softness a delicious counterpoint to his hardness, and knew that, whatever happened, he was going to see her again.

With her nipples probing the fine silk of his shirt, it was hard to let her go. But he had to. Dragging his mouth from hers, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip with an urgency that revealed his raw frustration.

‘I’ve got to go,’ he said harshly. ‘But I want to see you again.’

Rachel swayed a little as he spoke. It was an effort to think coherently when her head was swimming, and the knowledge that once again he had the advantage was causing goose bumps to feather her skin.

But she couldn’t let him see how shaken she was, and with a determined effort she said, ‘I suppose you’re bound to see me again when you come to visit Daisy,’ as if that thought didn’t fill her with panic. ‘I’d better get back—’

‘Wait!’ Once again, Joe’s hand captured her arm. ‘I mean I want to see you again.’ He paused. ‘Have dinner with me. Tonight.’

‘I can’t.’

It was an instinctive denial born of a need to protect herself, but Joe wouldn’t accept it. ‘Why can’t you?’ he demanded. ‘You’re not seeing Steve, are you?’

‘Steve?’ Rachel looked astounded. ‘Heavens, no.’