The Price Of Desire: The Price of Success / The Cost of Her Innocence / Not For Sale

His very Latin shrug drew her eyes to the bold, strong outline of his shoulders. ‘And yet it happened.’

‘We could blame the wine? Oh, wait, you barely touched your glass all evening.’

‘How would you know? You were neck-deep in discussing the Premier League.’

She sighed. ‘What can I say? I love my footie. Which club do you support?’

‘Barcelona.’

She grimaced. ‘Of course. You seem the Barcelona type.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t even want to know what that means.’

Silence encased them. She took a few more sips of her coffee, instinctively sensing she’d need the caffeine boost to withstand what was coming.

Marco raised his head and looked at her. The tormented gleam in his eyes stopped her breath. ‘What happened last night will not happen again.’

Despite telling herself the very same thing over and over last night, she felt a sharp dart of disappointment and hurt lance through her. She feigned a casual tone. ‘I agree.’

‘You belong to my brother,’ he carried on, as if she hadn’t spoken.

‘I belong to no one. I’m my own person.’

His gaze speared hers. ‘It can’t happen again.’

Again the uncomfortable dart of pain. ‘And I agreed with you. Are you trying to convince me or yourself?’

He shook his head. ‘You know, I’ve never met anyone so forthright.’

‘I believe in being upfront. I’m nobody’s yes-woman. You need to know that right now. I kiss whomever I want. But kissing you was a mistake. One that I hope will not jeopardise my contract.’

His gaze hardened. ‘You value being a racing driver more than personal relationships?’

‘I haven’t had a successful run with relationships but I’m a brilliant driver. I think it’s wise to stick to doing what I do best. And I’d prefer not to lose my job because you feel guilty over a simple kiss. I also understand if you have some reservations because of your brother. Really, it’s no big deal. There’s no need to beat yourself up over it.’

Running out of oxygen, she clamped her mouth shut.

This was yet another reason why she hated mornings. At this time of day the natural barrier between her brain and her mouth was severely weakened.

Throw in the fruitless soul-searching she’d done into the wee hours, and the resultant sleep-deprivation, and who knew what would come of out her mouth next?

He shoved a forceful hand through his hair. ‘Dios, this has nothing to do with your contract. If you were mine to take I’d have no reservations. None. The things I would do to you. With you.’

He named a few.

Her mouth dropped open.

Lust singed the air, its fumes thick and heavy. Her fingers clenched around her mug. Silently, desperately, she willed it away. But her body wasn’t prepared to heed her. Underneath her T-shirt her nipples reacted to his words, tightening into painful, needy buds.

‘Wow! That’s … um … super, super-naughty.’

Hazel eyes snapped pure fire at her. ‘And that’s just for starters,’ he rasped.

Her breath strangled in her chest.

In another life, at another time …

No! Even in a parallel universe having anything to do with Marco would be bad news.

‘I hear a but somewhere in there. Either you still think I’m poison or it’s something else. Tell me. I can take it.’

He gave a jerky nod of his head in a move she was becoming familiar with. ‘Last night, at the awards, you spoke of Rafael like a friend.’

‘Because that’s what he is. Just a friend.’

His jaw clenched. ‘You’re asking me to take your word over my brother’s?’

‘Not really. I’m saying give us both the benefit of the doubt. See where it takes you.’

He shook his head. ‘As long as Rafael sees you as his there can be nothing between us.’

Despite the steaming coffee in her hand, she felt a chill spread through her. ‘The message has been received, loud and clear. Was there something else?’

For a full minute he didn’t answer. Then, ‘I don’t want you to think that the kiss has bought you any special privileges.’

‘You mean like expecting you to bring me coffee every morning?’ she replied sarcastically, a surprisingly acute pain scouring its acidic path through her belly.

‘My expectations from you as a driver haven’t changed. In fact nothing has changed. Understood?’

Setting down her mug on the bedside table, she hugged her knees. ‘All this angst over a simple kiss, Marco?’ The need to reduce the kiss to an inconsequential blip burned through her, despite her body’s insistence on reliving it.

He prowled to the window and turned to face her. ‘Women have a habit of reading more into a situation than there actually is.’ His raised hand killed her response. ‘While taking pains to state the contrary. But I want to be very clear—I don’t do relationships.’

Her breath fractured in her lungs. ‘I’m not looking for one,’ she forced out.

His whole body stiffened. ‘Then it stands to reason that there shouldn’t be a problem.’

She hugged her knees tighter. ‘Again I sense a but.’

‘But … for some reason you’re all I think about.’

The statement was delivered with joyless candour. Yet her heart leapt like a puppet whose string had been jerked. And when his eyes met hers and she saw the heat in them something inside her melted.

He strode back towards the bed, shoving clenched fists into his pockets. She stared up at him, her pulse racing. ‘And you’re annoyed about that?’

His gaze raked her face slowly. Then slid to her neck, her breasts, and back up again. Molten heat burned in his eyes. ‘Livid. Frustrated. Puzzled. Intensely aroused.’

Of their own volition her eyes dropped below his belt-line. Confronted with the evidence, she felt a deep longing melt between her legs. She swallowed as heat poured through her whole being.