Mistress to the Mediterranean Male: The Mediterranean Millionaire's Reluctant Mistress / The Mediterranean Billionaire's Secret Baby / Mediterranean Boss, Convenient Mistress

Well, if he thought telling his girlfriend to come and have a little ‘woman to woman’ chat with her was going to persuade Brynne into leaving here, then he was going to be sadly disappointed.

It was more likely to have the opposite effect!

CHAPTER EIGHT

‘HOW dare you ask that—that—woman to come here and tell me you want me to leave?’

Alejandro had spent a long day in Palma, locked in further negotiations with Felipe Roig, tired of the cat-and-mouse game Felipe seemed to be having with him as he gave the older man the warning that he might withdraw from the possible deal himself if it wasn’t soon settled to his satisfaction. A warning Felipe had obviously taken seriously enough to waste a day of Alejandro’s time!

Alejandro would rather have come home once it had become obvious that no deal would be reached today, but the older man had insisted that the two of them had to go out to an early dinner in order to show that they were still friends. As Alejandro still had every intention of buying the tract of land Felipe had for sale, he didn’t intend being anything else until he had Felipe’s signature on a contract.

But having finally returned to the villa at nine-thirty that evening, he had gone to the pool-house to change into black swimming trunks before diving straight into the refreshing water and swimming half a dozen lengths of the pool before he had felt his temper start to cool. Another argument with Brynne was the last thing he felt in the mood for …

He rested his arms on the edge of the pool as he looked up at her, taking a few seconds to appreciate how sexily attractive she looked in the sky-blue linen dress with her feet bare beneath tanned legs. Her hair was loose about her shoulders and her face beautiful in spite of the angry glitter he could see in her eyes and that becoming flush to her cheeks.

It was an angry beauty he was becoming all too used to where this particular woman was concerned!

‘I have no idea what you are talking about, Brynne—and, quite frankly, at this moment I do not think I want to know.’ He sighed, holding up a silencing hand. ‘I am tired and dusty from my frustrating day in Palma, so if you can wait a few minutes before continuing this tirade, then I would like a glass of cool wine first …’ He levered himself quickly out of the water.

Brynne’s breath instantly caught in her throat at the sight of all that bare male beauty. Alejandro’s skin was dark olive all over, his legs long, his shoulders broad, chest muscled, stomach flat …

She averted her gaze but couldn’t resist looking back again as Alejandro strolled over to the pool bar to take a cooled bottle of wine from the refrigerator there, deftly removing the cork before placing two glasses on top of the bar.

God, he really was the most gorgeous—

‘Would you like some?’ He held up the bottle invitingly.

Why not? She wasn’t tired and dusty, but she could definitely do with something to soothe her frayed nerves. Waiting for Alejandro to come back to the villa had been tediously long, and on top of that her irritation had grown when he hadn’t got back in time to say goodnight to Michael, but she’d had no intention of going to bed herself until after she had spoken to him.

Finding herself in the company of an almost naked Alejandro—those black swimming trunks resting low on lean hips almost didn’t count!—was making her senses dance with an altogether different emotion, the dark hair slicked back from those arrogantly handsome features making her mouth go dry.

‘Thank you,’ she accepted stiltedly as she took the glass of wine he held out to her. ‘You—’

‘At least let me have one drink before you start again!’ Alejandro drawled as he sat down tiredly on one of the loungers, unconcerned by the wetness of his hair and body as he took several sips of the wine before looking up at her enquiringly. ‘You may now continue,’ he invited mockingly.

Brynne gave him a quelling glance. ‘I’m glad you find all of this funny, Alejandro,’ she dismissed in disgust, desperately trying to rekindle her earlier anger, but finding it increasing difficult in the company of this compellingly handsome man.

Come on, Brynne, she chided herself impatiently. Alejandro wasn’t the first man she had seen in a pair of bathing trunks.

No … but he was the first one to make her want to rip that last remaining garment from that leanly muscled frame so that she could gaze her fill of all of him.

She shook her head in disbelief. ‘I, on the other hand,’ she snapped waspishly, ‘as the recipient of this “woman-to-woman” so-called advice, don’t find any of this in the least funny.’

No, she obviously didn’t find it funny, Alejandro acknowledged as he saw that the shadows beneath her eyes had deepened since this morning, her mouth curved down unhappily. Whatever it was!

‘Perhaps you are not explaining yourself very well.’ He smiled ruefully, leaning back against the cushioned chair and taking another sip of his wine.

The swim had been so cool, so reviving, the wine even more so; after hours of fruitless discussion his throat had felt rough as well as dry.

It was also, he realized, frowning, good to come home and find a beautiful woman waiting for him …

‘No—you aren’t listening!’ Brynne paced restlessly beside the pool on those surprisingly pretty feet. ‘And would it have been too much trouble for you to have come home in time to say goodnight to Michael?’

Alejandro closed his eyes briefly before looking up at her. This woman still dared to meddle in things he would accept from no one else. ‘I do have a business to run—’

‘And was your business any more successful today?’ she challenged scathingly.

‘As it happens, no.’ Alejandro sat forward to replenish his wineglass, his relaxation of a few minutes ago fading as rapidly as the sun now disappearing beneath the horizon. ‘Felipe continues to be … elusive … concerning finalizing the deal.’ His expression was grim.

‘Then perhaps you should become the elusive one,’ Brynne dismissed, aware that they were once again veering off the subject—and the more time she spent in Alejandro’s almost-naked company, the less angry and more tinglingly aware of him she was becoming.

Alejandro raised dark brows. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Brynne gave a shrug. ‘That’s the way it usually works with my more disinterested students. The more I ignore them, the more they want me to take notice of them,’ she explained at Alejandro’s questioning look.

Alejandro continued to look puzzled for several moments, and then he gave a slight smile. ‘And do you shout at these students in the way that you shout at me?’

Had she shouted at him? Probably, she realized with a wince.

After all, she had been waiting hours for him to come home, and the first awareness she had had of his arrival had been the sound of him swimming, without any concern, up and down the pool. Not a move that would soothe her temper!

She grimaced. ‘No, I don’t shout at them.’

Alejandro quirked dark brows. ‘Only at me?’

Well … yes.

Despite her red hair, she didn’t usually lose her temper with anyone; she was normally cheerfully calm. To shout at one of her students, at anyone, really, was to lose control of the situation, she had always thought.

Unfortunately she had lost control of the situation with Alejandro Santiago from the moment the judge had come down in his favour regarding custody of Michael.

She gave him a frustrated glance. ‘You annoy me, yes—’

‘And is that all I do to you, Brynne?’ he interrupted huskily, putting down his wineglass to get slowly to his feet.

Her eyes widened in alarm as he padded softly towards her. Like a predatory animal approaching its prey, she realized as her pulse started to race.

Alejandro stopped only inches away from where she stood rooted to the spot, not touching her—not needing to …

The sheer height and breadth of him as he stood so close to her blocked out everything but the sight and warmth of him.

‘Is it, Brynne?’ he encouraged throatily.

She swallowed hard. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, yes,’ he breathed, ‘I think you know only too well.’

She could smell the all-male scent of him, making her long to touch him, to caress the hard strength of his shoulders, featherlight across his chest and down that flat, hard stomach. She wanted to reach out and pull his head down to hers even as he moulded her body against his, wanted—needed—to feel the hardness of him against her, to touch and be touched, to—