The Spaniard's Kiss

by Nina Croft

  Sitting up, she dragged the thin sheet up over the curves of her breasts, and he stood and headed for the door before he could be tempted to crawl into the bed beside her.

  He paused at the door. “And Bella…”

  “Yes?”

  “Wear a bra.”

  Chapter Five

  “Wear a bra,” she mimicked under her breath.

  Did he think she had no standards? That she needed to be told how to dress in company, no doubt for his posh lawyer? She’d been tempted to ignore the command, but was glad she’d decided against it. Her jeans and shirt were already about as out-of-place as it was possible to get among all the business suits. She could feel eyes tracking her as she followed Sally’s brisk march through a huge glass-and-steel reception area.

  As if conjured by magic, her “PA” had appeared almost as soon as Rafe left. Maybe Sally had spent the night loitering outside in the corridor in case she was called upon to “assist” with something. This morning, her assignment was to make sure Bella presented herself at Rafe’s office, 11:00 a.m., prompt.

  “We can’t keep him waiting. Mr. Sanchez is a busy man.”

  Bella was the first to admit that she hadn’t been entirely aware of what was going on during her last conversation with Rafe earlier that morning. His broad chest mere inches from her nose, combined with the vivid memory of what it looked like naked, had so dazzled her that she’d failed to focus on the actual words.

  Muscles low in her body tightened as she remembered the feel of his hands touching her. Holy crap, that man had clever fingers, and that had only been foreplay. Damn, but she had to stop thinking about sex.

  Sex had never been a big deal for her. While she’d enjoyed Gary’s lovemaking, it had never made her feel as though she was going to explode out of her skin, burst into flames.

  Rafe did. And that made her feel vaguely disloyal to Gary.

  Sally had whisked around the hotel suite like a dervish, picking up scraps of underwear, bags, and boxes from the floor, while Bella showered and dressed. Bella considered asking Sally to get her on a plane back to Spain. But while last night hadn’t gone entirely as planned, it wasn’t all bad. If she’d wanted evidence Rafe did actually want her then she had seen it, in all its naked glory. She resisted the urge to fan herself at the memory.

  So she’d go to this meeting, see what he had to say, and could still be on a plane to Spain that afternoon. Or she could stay with her best friend, Amy, while she sorted herself out. Though Amy had only been married a month, and she didn’t want to take advantage of her dearest friend.

  “So Rafe’s company has offices here?” she asked Sally as they waited for the elevator.

  “No, the whole building belongs to the company.”

  “Wow. But it said Santini’s above the door.”

  Sally frowned at her. “Do you actually know anything about Mr. Sanchez?”

  Did she? All the stuff Gary had told her tended to be about Rafe rather than his family or his business. Whatever he did, she figured it was high-powered and stressful. He’d always relished the chance to forget about work when he was with them.

  Rafe had always been the subject of gossip in the small village where she’d lived. His grandfather might be a shepherd who’d lived in the area all his life, but his mother was an English aristocrat. A wicked woman who seduced the innocent shepherd’s son, used him until she was bored, and then sent him home to die of a broken heart. Bella was quite aware the tale had been embellished until it bore little relation to truth.

  “His grandfather used to be a shepherd in Spain,” she offered.

  “He did? Really?” Sally sounded suitably impressed.

  “Hmm. I lived out there and worked for his grandfather.”

  Sally scrunched her brows together. “Looking after sheep?”

  “No, he’s—” The elevator dinged at that moment, and she was saved any more explanations. Once the doors slid shut, she changed the subject. “So Rafe’s company is called Santini’s?”

  “Yes. Mr. Santini is Mr. Sanchez’s stepfather. He—”

  “He married Rafe’s mother?”

  “Obviously. Anyway, he handed the company over to Mr. Sanchez about six years ago.”

  That would be around the time Bella and Gary married. Rafe had changed at that point, become more serious. His visits brief moments in what she realized now must have been an extremely busy schedule.

  “So Rafe runs all this?” she asked.

  “He…oh, we’re here.” Sally cast a quick but all-encompassing glance at Bella and sighed. “Perhaps you could tell him…”

  Bella patted her arm. “I’ll tell him you tried real hard to get me into something more respectable. And that you’re a brilliant PA—by far the best I’ve ever had.”

  The elevator doors opened onto another reception area, this one even more luxurious than the one downstairs, but a more understated luxury. Peter North sat behind a desk in front of a set of double doors. It was nice to see a familiar face. He wore a dark business suit and studied Bella with obvious curiosity.

  “This is Pete.” Sally introduced him to Bella. “Mr. Sanchez’s assistant.”

  “We’ve already met,” Pete said with a grin.

  Bella smiled back and waggled her fingers.

  “Is he ready for us?” Sally asked.

  “Yes. She’s to go right in. Alone.”

  “Oh.” Sally seemed slightly deflated. “I’ll wait for you here then.”

  “Rafe said to inform you that you wouldn’t be needed for the rest of the day. He’ll be taking care of Mrs. Sinclair himself.”

  “He will?” Sally’s glance flickered to Bella, a mixture of envy and commiseration. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then. Or whenever…give me a call if you need anything.”

  She nodded, and Sally disappeared into the elevator. Bella nibbled on her lower lip and studied her boots for a minute. When she finally looked up, Pete was watching her, the grin still on his face.

  “What?” she asked suspiciously.

  “It’s just Sally mentioned Rafe’s new girlfriend wasn’t what she expected. I didn’t know it was you.”

  Bella grimaced. She really didn’t need anyone else telling her how glamorous and sophisticated Rafe’s other girlfriends were. Her gaze wandered to the double doors behind the desk. She should get this over with, but her stomach was fluttering at the thought of facing Rafe after last night.

  For God’s sake, she’d seen him naked. That had to change a relationship. Would she ever be able to look him in the face again without seeing his—

  The intercom sounded on the desk and interrupted her thoughts. Just as well, really, considering where they’d been heading. Rafe’s voice came through tinged with irritation. “Have they arrived yet?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Well, why isn’t she in here?”

  “She’s on her way.”

  Pete raised an eyebrow and gestured to the doors behind him. Bella gave a shrug, straightened her shoulders, and sauntered to the door.

  Rafe’s office was huge, and three walls were made entirely of glass. She hadn’t realized how high up they were, and was drawn to the vast panoramic views of London spread out below them. From here, she could see the Thames meandering through the heart of the city, Tower Bridge, and a glimpse of the London Eye across the water.

  “Wow.”

  She was putting off facing him, and finally she took a deep breath and forced herself to turn around. Two men sat on a long leather sofa, and their eyes pinned on her. Rafe’s expression was blank, while the man beside him regarded her with gray eyes as cold as ice.

  Ouch.

  He must be the lawyer, and from his expression, he no doubt believed she was out to get her claws into Rafe and drain him of every penny she could get her greedy little paws on. She grinned at the thought, and Rafe raised an eyebrow in query.

  She waved a hand at the windows. “Nice view.”

  “It is,” Rafe replied smooth
ly. He rose to his feet and stalked toward her, coming to a halt only inches away. Bella tugged at her ponytail and forced herself to hold her ground. “You came,” he murmured.

  It cheered her a little to realize he was in no way 100 percent sure of her. “My PA insisted. Apparently, it was on my agenda.”

  A smile curled the corner of his lips. He leaned in closer, and before she realized what he meant to do, he kissed her on the cheek. It was quick. The sort of kiss friends would exchange. All the same, her skin tingled, and a little shiver ran through her. She clasped her hands together to stop from reaching for him and dragging his head down so she could kiss him properly—purely to discover if he was as good as she remembered. Instead, she stood like a moron staring into his eyes. Something flickered there, and she had the strangest sensation he was also thinking about kisses and where they could lead.

  The lawyer coughed behind her. Rafe stepped back, breaking the eye contact, and she released her breath.

  “Are you going to introduce us?”

  Bella swung around as the other man spoke for the first time. His voice was smooth and cultured and held as much warmth as his eyes. She glanced at Rafe and quirked a brow.

  “Bella, this is John Saunders, my lawyer. John, this is Isabel Sinclair, my…”

  “Friend?” she suggested.

  “I somehow doubt that, Mrs. Sinclair.” The lawyer spoke in that cool, clipped voice.

  “You do?”

  “Bella is a friend,” Rafe snapped. “And I’d appreciate it if you kept that in mind.” He sounded pissed, but his lawyer appeared unfazed. A brave man. She glanced back at Rafe. He shrugged. “John has drawn up the papers. They’re ready for you to sign.”

  “I don’t want to sign anything.”

  “Of course you do, Mrs. Sinclair. The terms are extremely generous.”

  The man was starting to seriously irritate her. He was probably hoping he would annoy her so much that she’d turn around and walk out. Well, she was made of sterner stuff, and he wouldn’t drive her away. She hated lawyers, especially pompous, superior ones, and wouldn’t give this arrogant man the satisfaction. She stuck out her hand. “Give me the papers.”

  He studied her, his expression still cold, but a flicker of uncertainty showed in his eyes as though she wasn’t quite what he expected.

  Hey, someone else who thought she wasn’t like Rafe’s usual girlfriends. What a surprise.

  Rafe strolled across to the desk, picked up a folder, and handed it to her. It was thick.

  She frowned. “All this for me?”

  He nodded. “I still think we need time to get to know each other better. This is just in case we…decide to go ahead.”

  She suspected he’d been about to say something else. Hopefully, along the lines of—in case we can’t keep our hands off each other.

  “I have to read all this?” She flipped through the pages. There must have been at least twenty, all covered in small type.

  “I would suggest you read it carefully,” John Saunders replied. “We wouldn’t want you to come back later and say you didn’t understand.”

  She pursed her lips. “If I don’t, I won’t be signing anything. But I’m sure you can redo it in words someone like me can comprehend.”

  Rafe’s lips twitched at her retort. “John will stick around in case you have any questions.”

  “Lovely,” she murmured. She wandered across to the sofa and sank into the corner. Reaching down, she unlaced her boots, kicked them off, and sat cross-legged. This was going to take time, and she might as well be comfortable.

  As she opened the file and started reading, the skin prickled along the back of her neck. Glancing up, she found both men regarding her intensely and she scowled.

  “Are you two going to stare at me the whole time I read this? Because it’s making me just a little bit uncomfortable.”

  Rafe nodded to the lawyer and gestured to the seat by the desk. “Get on with some work if you want to.”

  John took the chair but sat staring into space, a slightly puzzled frown on his face. That just left Rafe. Bella glared at him and raised an eyebrow. He ignored the hint, sank down onto the opposite corner of the sofa, and sat with his arms behind his head, long legs stretched out in front of him.

  “You know, I’m sure someone mentioned you were a busy man. Don’t you have something important to do?” she asked.

  “Nothing that won’t wait.”

  “What about getting me some coffee?” she asked hopefully. Her brain didn’t function properly with him so close. But he only leaned across and pressed a button on the desk. “Pete, could you sort us out some coffee?”

  She glowered, but it was probably the best she was going to get, and she shut him out as well as she could and went back to her reading. She hardly noticed when someone placed a tray of coffee next to her. But she picked up the cup and drank absently.

  Despite what she’d said, she’d been worried she’d need a lawyer of her own to understand this. But the document was written in plain English rather than lawyer gobbledygook. The contract didn’t in any way impose on her the need to sleep with Rafe. It just set out what would happen if they did and subsequently had a child together.

  The document explained the settlement in detail. And the terms were very generous. Too generous.

  “This allowance…” she said, glancing up.

  “It’s as much as you’re going to get and twice as much as the number I recommended,” John shot back instantly.

  She curled her lip at him and resisted the urge to stick out her tongue. “I was going to say it’s too much.”

  “It’s good,” Rafe replied. “I don’t want a child of mine wanting for anything.”

  She was slowly becoming aware how wealthy Rafe was. It made her twitchy—she really did want to stand on her own two feet, provide for her child. She pushed the worries aside and waved the document in the air. “Is this actually legally binding?”

  “As legally binding as we can make it,” John said. “This isn’t exactly a common occurrence, and it’s the first I’ve drawn up of its kind. But at the least you’d have to fight it in court if you decide you want more later.”

  “I don’t want more. In fact I don’t want any.”

  “That’s not an option,” Rafe said. “And this is a deal breaker. You have my baby, then I will provide for it.”

  She nibbled on her lower lip as she attempted to think logically. The money made her uncomfortable, but she could always invest it for her child. The truth was, she was going to sign. It meant nothing to her, but if signing eased Rafe’s concerns, then why not? She peeped over the top of the paper and found him observing her, his blue eyes gleaming through half-lowered lashes. He caught her gaze and a slow smile curved his lips. Heat pooled low in her belly, her breasts tingled, and she looked away quickly and swallowed.

  Friends!

  He didn’t look at her as though he wanted to be her friend.

  She swallowed. “I really don’t want your money.”

  “I know.”

  That was something at least. Taking a deep breath, she stood, crossed to the desk, and slammed the document down. “Give me a pen.”

  Rafe’s expression was carefully blank, and she realized again that he was in no way sure of her. Her heart pounded as she signed and dated the document, and then the copy John placed in front of her. She watched as Rafe signed as well.

  John picked up the papers and examined them, then placed one copy in his briefcase and slid the second back to her. “This is yours. I suggest you keep it somewhere safe. Preferably give it to your lawyer.”

  “I don’t have a lawyer,” she replied sweetly. “I think they’re all money-grubbing parasites.”

  She was almost sure a smile flickered across his face, but it was gone before she could be sure. He held out his hand and she grasped it automatically.

  “Good luck, Mrs. Sinclair. I think you’re going to need it.”

  She frowned as he releas
ed her hand and then walked away, Rafe at his side. Bella turned to stare out of the window. This time she didn’t even see the view below her.

  …

  Rafe hustled John out of the room before Bella could change her mind.

  She’d signed. She was his.

  He started at the thought. In no way was Bella his. She could never be his. And that contract meant less than nothing. But at least she wasn’t going to disappear in the immediate future. Or hunt for some other man to act as sperm donor.

  He couldn’t ever remember a business deal that had caused him so much anxiety. Sweat broke out on his forehead when she’d glared at him over the papers.

  John paused at the door, and Rafe shifted impatiently wanting the other man gone.

  “Maybe this will go all right,” John murmured. “She’s certainly not what I expected. In fact, I’m almost tempted to think she’s the one I should worry about. Does she understand what she’s getting into?”

  “I’ve known her seven years. She’s twenty-four and a widow—I think she can look after herself.”

  “Maybe. Anyway, I hope neither of you ends up regretting this.”

  Rafe glanced back at Bella. She stood sideways to them, hands stuffed into the back pockets of her jeans as she gazed out the windows. The faded denim clung to the long, slender length of her legs, molded to her bottom. His body tightened at the sight. He tried to ignore the sensation. If Bella came out of this unscathed and found a way to move on—which she would if he could keep his dick in his pants—then he’d be content. If not happy. “I won’t regret it.”

  John shook his head and left the office. Rafe began to close the door behind him, but in the end decided to leave it open.

  He’d almost given in last night. Bella had the ability to make him forget all his good intentions, and he suspected that if he ever did cave and make love to her, he’d find it next to impossible to let her go. He couldn’t do that to her. He couldn’t tie her to a relationship that would be counter to everything she wanted in life. She’d come to hate him in the end.