Taming the Last Acosta

‘Shall we move on?’ she said briskly, because Kruz seemed in no hurry to bring the viewing session to an end. She was deeply affected by some of the shots she had captured of the bridal couple, and that wasn’t helpful right now. Since she was a child she had felt the need to protect her inner self. Drawing a big, thick safety curtain around herself rather than staring at an impossible dream on the screen would be her action of choice right now.

‘That was a heavy sigh,’ Kruz commented.

She shrugged, neither wanting nor able to confide in him. ‘I just need to do a little more work,’ she said. ‘That’s if you’ll let me stay to do it?’ she added, turning to face him, knowing it could only be a matter of minutes before they went their separate ways.

This was the moment she had been dreading and yet she needed him to go, Romy realised. Staring at those photographs of Grace and Nacho had only underlined the fact that her own life was going nowhere.

‘Here,’ she said, handing over the memory stick. ‘These are for you and for the charity. You will keep that special shot?’ she said, her chest tightening at the thought that Kruz might think nothing of it.

‘So I can stare at myself?’ he suggested, slanting her a half-smile.

‘So you can look at your family,’ she corrected him, ‘and feel their love.’

Did he have to stare at her so intently? She wished he wouldn’t. It made her uncomfortable. She didn’t know what Kruz expected from her.

‘What?’ she said, when he continued to stare.

‘I never took you for an emotional woman,’ he said.

‘Because I’m not,’ she countered, but her breath caught in her throat, calling her a liar. The French called this a coup de foudre—a thunderbolt. She had no explanation for the longing inside her except to say Kruz had turned her life inside out. It made no sense. They hardly knew each other outside of sex. They didn’t know if they could trust each other, and they had no shared history. They had everything to learn about each other and no time to do so. And why would Kruz want to know more about her?

They could be friends, maybe…

Friends? She almost laughed out loud at this na?ve suggestion from a subconscious that hadn’t learned much in her twenty-four years of life. Romy Winner and Kruz Acosta? Ms Frost and Se?or Ice? Taking time out to get to know each other? To really get to know each other? The idea was so preposterous she wasn’t going to waste another second on it. She’d settle for maintaining a truce between them long enough for her to leave Argentina in one piece with her camera.

‘Thanks for this,’ Kruz said, angling his stubble-shaded chin as he slipped the memory stick into his pocket.

She felt lost when he turned to go—something else she would have to get used to. She had to get over him. She’d leave love at first sight to those who believed in it. As far as she was concerned love at first sight was a load of bull. Lust at first sight, maybe. Lack of self-control, certainly.

Her throat squeezed tight when he reached the door and turned to look at her.

‘How are you planning to get back to England, Romy?’

‘The same way I arrived, I guess,’ she said wryly.

‘Did you bring much luggage with you?’

‘Just the essentials.’ She glanced at her kitbag, where everything she’d brought to Argentina was stashed. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘My jet’s flying to London tomorrow and there are still a few spare places, if you’re stuck.’

Did he mean stuck as in unprepared? Did he think she was so irresponsible? Maybe he thought she was an opportunist who seized the moment and thought nothing more about it?

‘I bought a return ticket,’ she said, just short of tongue in cheek. ‘But thanks for the offer.’

Kruz shrugged, but as he was about to go through the door he paused. ‘You’re passing up the chance to take some exclusive shots of the young royals—’

‘So be it,’ she said. ‘I wouldn’t dream of intruding on their privacy.’

‘Romy Winner passing up a scoop?’

‘What you’re suggesting sounds more like a cheap thrill for an amateur,’ she retorted, stung by his poor opinion of her. ‘When celebrities or royals are out in public it’s a different matter.’

Kruz made a calming motion with his hands.

‘I am calm,’ she said, raging with frustration at the thought that they had shared so much yet knew so little about each other. Kruz had tagged her with the label paparazzi the first moment he’d caught sight of her—as someone who would do anything it took to get her shots. Even have sex with Kruz Acosta, presumably, if that was what was required.

‘Romy—’

‘What?’ she flashed defensively.

‘You seem… angry?’ Kruz suggested dryly.

She huffed, as if she didn’t care what he thought, but even so her gaze was drawn to his mouth. ‘I just wonder what type of photographer you think I am,’ she said, shaking her head.

‘A very good one, from what I’ve seen today, Se?orita Winner,’ Kruz said softly, completely disarming her.

‘Gracias,’ she said, firming her jaw as they stared at each other.

And now Kruz should leave. And she should stay where she was—at the back of the coach, as far away from him as possible, with a desk, a chair and most of the coach seats between them.

She waited for him to go, to close the door behind him and bring this madness to an end.

He didn’t go.

Leaning over the driver’s seat, Kruz hit the master switch and the lights dimmed, and then he walked down the aisle towards her.

CHAPTER FOUR

THEY COLLIDED SOMEWHERE in the middle and there was a tangle of arms and moans and tongues and heated breathing.

She kicked off her boots as Kruz slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of her jeans. The button sprang free and the zipper was down, the fabric skimming over her hips like silk, so that now she was wearing only her jacket, the white vest and her ridiculously insubstantial briefs. Kruz ripped them off. Somehow the fact that she was partly clothed made what was happening even more erotic. There was only one area that needed attention and they both knew it.

Her breathing had grown frantic, and it became even more hectic when she heard foil rip. She was working hectically on Kruz’s belt and could feel his erection pressing thick and hard against her hand. She gasped with relief as she released him. She was getting better at this, she registered dazedly, though her brain was still scrambled and she was gasping for breath. Kruz, on the other hand, was breathing steadily, like a man who knew exactly where he was going and how to get there. His control turned her on. He was a rock-solid promise of release and satisfaction, delivered in the most efficient way

‘Wrap your legs around me, Romy,’ he commanded as he lifted her.

Kruz’s movements were measured and certain, while she was a wild, feverish mess. She did as he said, and as she clung to him he whipped his hand across the desk, clearing a space for her. She groaned with anticipation as he moved between her legs. The sensation was building to an incredible pitch. She cried out encouragement as he positioned her, his rough hands firm on her buttocks just the way she liked them. Pressing her knees back, he stared into her eyes. Pleasure guaranteed, she thought, reaching up to lace her fingers through his hair, binding him to her.

This time… this one last time. And then never again.

She was so ready for him, so hungry. As Kruz sank deep, shock, pleasure, relief, eagerness, all combined to help her reach the goal. Thrusting firmly, he seemed to feel the same urgency, but then he found his control and began to tease her. Withdrawing slowly, he entered her again in the way she loved. The sensation was incredible and she couldn’t hold on. She fell violently, noisily, conscious only of her own pleasure until the waves had subsided a little, when she was finally able to remember that this was for both of them. Tightening her muscles, she left Kruz in no doubt that she wasn’t a silent partner but a full participant.

He smiled into her eyes and pressed her back against the desk. Wherever she took him he took her one level higher. Pinning her hands above her head, he held her hips firmly in place with his other hand as he took her hard and fast. There was no finesse and only one required outcome, and understanding the power she had over him excited her. Grabbing his arms, she rocked with him, welcoming each thrust as Kruz encouraged her in his own language. Within moments she was flying high in a galaxy composed entirely of light, with only Kruz’s strong embrace to keep her safe.

It was afterwards that was awkward, Romy realised as she pulled on her jeans. When they were together they were as close as two people could be—trusting, caring, encouraging, pleasuring. But now they were apart all that evaporated, disappeared almost immediately. Kruz had already sorted out his clothes and was heading for the door. They could have been two strangers who, having fallen to earth, had landed in a place neither of them recognised.

‘The seat on the jet is still available if you need it,’ he said, pausing at the door.