The Secret Mistress

The conviction swept into Luis’ mind. This was no fun for her. Which was only right and just. She’d had her fun last time. It was his turn tonight. He could send her away right now, defeated, but what satisfaction was there in that? He wanted—needed—the same physical satisfaction she had taken from him, over and over again.

“Yes,” he said. “You’ll get the bus.”

Which put their deal on the line.

Luis watched her take that in, and all it implied. Her gaze dropped from the hard challenge in his. Her hands interlocked in front of her waist, as though testing how much strength she had, fingers flexing...and he craved their touch on him again. Her breasts and shoulders lifted slightly as she drew in a deep breath. He found himself holding his own breath, waiting for her decision, willing her to concede to him, his whole body focusing energy on her, determined on drawing her into the ring with him.

She spoke, still with her eyes downcast. “If you have a wife, Luis, this is a rotten game you’re playing and I won’t be a party to it.”

Luis clenched his teeth. It was because of her he didn’t have a wife, but he’d rot in hell before she dragged that admission from him.

“If I had a wife, you would have had no access to me, Shontelle,” he stated bitingly.

Her lashes slowly lifted, her eyes meeting his with an oddly poignant expression of irony. He caught a sense of fatalism, yet there was no resignation to defeat in it, more a feeling of being ready to ride whatever outcome ensued from the situation. It disturbed him. It wasn’t what he expected from her. Not what he wanted, either.

“What time should I tell Alan the bus will be at our hotel?” she asked. “He’ll want to have the tour group ready to go.”

The hotel! It was on the tip of his tongue to state that Alan would have to collect the bus from the depot. A surge of pride stopped him. If he didn’t win his ground with this woman, he would always feel whipped by her. Which was totally intolerable. No way would he give Shontelle Wright any cause to scorn him again.

It might be sheer madness to risk his own skin to balance the scales, madness to risk blotting the Martinez reputation for steering clear of trouble, but he would get the damned bus himself rather than give Shontelle a loophole out of this deal. She had to be his for this one night. Somehow it was a need that drove to the very core of his manhood.

“Seven o’clock,” he answered tersely. “Given that it’s not stopped by the military. That I cannot control.”

A sigh whispered from her lips. She nodded acceptance. “Fair enough! I’ll ring Alan now.”

Done!

Yet Luis’ triumph had a bittersweet taste. She had wrung more from him than she was worth. But she would pay, he promised himself. He would strip her of every bit of power she had over him before dawn came. Then he would be free of her. Finally free of her.

CHAPTER FIVE

SHONTELLE tried desperately to focus her mind on how to tell Alan she was spending the night with the man who’d stolen her heart two years ago and hadn’t valued it...a man who’d used her for pleasure...and when she’d taken the pleasure away, had vindictively taken out his displeasure on her brother. There was simply no way Alan was going to understand.

One more night...

With any luck she should at least win something from this encounter. It would either set her free of Luis Angel Martinez...or...give her hope of something more from him, more than she had believed possible.

He wanted her...perhaps as badly as she wanted him. It was what she was gambling on. Plus the fact he hadn’t married. The Gallardo heiress hadn’t got him. And maybe—just maybe—Elvira Rosa Martinez didn’t know her son as well as she thought she did.

“The telephone is free for you to use,” Luis dryly reminded her, gesturing to it with a casual grace that belied any tension on his part over her decision to stay.

He looked so arrogantly sure of himself.

But he did want her.

Shontelle pushed her legs into action and a wry smile onto her mouth. “This is not going to be an easy call.”

He returned a derisive look. “Did you think it was easy, looking like a fool for ordering a bus out in this volatile climate?”

He had a point.

Both of them fools.

For some reason, that thought boosted Shontelle’s morale.

Luis did not move away from the telephone to let her speak privately to Alan. He propped himself against the edge of the writing desk, apparently intent on hearing every word. She had no choice but to stand next to him, which heightened her awareness of the strong force field coming from his dominating maleness.

She turned her back on him once the call was put through. She didn’t want him witnessing her awkwardness in explaining her decision to Alan. It was bad enough knowing he was listening without him watching her every nuance of expression.

“Where are you calling from?” Alan demanded, the moment she announced herself.

“I’m still with Luis in his suite. He’s got you the bus, Alan.”

“What did he want for it?”

“It’s no problem. You can tell everyone to be in the hotel foyer, ready to leave at seven o’clock, all going well.”

“All going well?” Suspicion sharpened his voice. “What’s Luis up to, Shontelle?”

“Alan, he’s ordered the bus. He can’t guarantee the military won’t stop it before it reaches the hotel.”

She heard him expel a long breath. She also heard Luis straighten away from the desk, moving to stand behind her.

“Right! That’s it then,” Alan decided. “I take it you’ve finished talking and you’re ready to leave. Give me five minutes and I’ll be at the side door into the Plaza to bring you back here.”

Hands slid around her waist, distracting her. Luis was standing close behind her, very close, but not touching except for his hands. Her buttocks clenched in sheer nervousness. Her heart leapt into her throat when he started unbuckling her belt.

“Shontelle?”

She dragged her attention back to Alan, belatedly recalling he’d been offering the protection of his escort back to the hotel.

“Uh...no. No, we haven’t finished here,” she rushed out.

“Just starting,” Luis murmured, darkly purred words that set her pulse pounding. The buckle undone, he unbuttoned the waistband and drew down her zipper.

Shontelle held her breath. Her mind blanked out on all active thought, waiting, poised on the edge of an explosion of sensation should he move his hand inside her clothes and...

“What’s going on there?” Alan demanded, his voice getting edgier.

She gulped, forced herself to think. An answer was needed. Fast. “I’m going to spend the night with Luis, Alan,” she gabbled, almost yelping as her trousers and underpants were pulled down to her thighs.

“What?” Alan squawked.

Her brother’s shock was nothing to Shontelle’s at being so summarily stripped. Exposed. Vulnerable to anything Luis might choose to do with her. This was going too far, too fast. The urge to drop the telephone and yank up her clothes was muddled by Alan’s yelling at her.

“I’m coming to get you right now.”

“No!” She jerked around to face Luis, wanting to stop his actions, too. “No!” she repeated for him.