Spanish Marriage Solution

Chapter Five

ALICE’SHEARTWAS beating so loud she was surprised it wasn’t audible through the entire helicopter cabin, even despite the headset she wore.

He’d told her so fiercely not to look at him that she’d obeyed without even thinking about it, turning to look out of the window instead. Except she paid no attention to the Spanish countryside unrolling beneath them.

All she could think about was the moment when he’d looked into her eyes, and she’d seen something leap in the depths of his golden gaze. Something hot. Something that had felt like a caress of flame over her skin, searing her.

Once, she’d thought she’d seen something similar in his eyes a couple of years ago, on Christmas Eve. Everyone else had gone to bed and he’d disappeared down to the stables. She’d been alone. She’d stood in front of the fire, allowing herself to relax for the first time since she and Edward had arrived, because she never could, not in Sebastián’s presence. She’d been thinking that perhaps this would be the last Christmas she and Edward would come to Spain, because it was getting too difficult for her. Emily had been asking her what was wrong and why was she so quiet, and, really, it would have been easier to stay at home. She could hardly tell her sister that it was because of Sebastián. Because his presence made her want things she shouldn’t want.

Something had alerted her, as if the air pressure in the room had changed, and she’d glanced towards the doorway. And he’d been there, staring at her, the look on his face fierce with an expression she hadn’t understood. His eyes had seemed to burn as golden as the flames in the grate and she’d felt herself catch fire along with them.

But then he’d turned away abruptly and left without a word. Afterwards, she’d told herself it was nothing. That perhaps he’d been looking for Emily and the expression she’d seen on his face was anger that he couldn’t find her. Anger that it was Alice in the room instead of his wife.

Perhaps it’s anger now.

Alice swallowed, her heart still beating far too loud. Their conversation had definitely been fraught and difficult and, yes, he wasangry with her. But...the heat in his eyes hadn’t been anger, she was certain. There had been an intensity to it that made her feel as if she were prey under the gaze of a starving wolf.

She shut her eyes and took a deep, soundless breath, trying to get her heartbeat under control. But that only made it worse, because it only made her more aware of his powerful, muscular body sitting next to hers and how tense he was, like a drawn bow just before the arrow was released.

Desperately she tried to think of something to say to ease the weight of the silence, but she couldn’t think of a word. All she could think of was that look in his eyes. The look she’d dreamed of him giving her so many times, even though she knew it was wrong.

He was hungry for her. He wanted her. Maybe she’d imagined it back then on that snowy Christmas Eve. But she wasn’t imagining it now.

It doesn’t change things.

No, no, it couldn’t. Neither of them was bound by marriage vows now, it was true, but he’d still been her sister’s husband. And she’d been Edward’s wife. She’d loved Edward once and, while he’d been unfaithful to her, she wouldn’t use the excuse of his death to jump into bed with someone else only two months after he’d gone. Especially not when that someone was her own sister’s husband. Edward might have not been able to control himself around Emily, but she’d been controlling herself around Sebastián for years and she wasn’t about to stop doing so now. Also, if Sebastián himself had wanted to do anything about that hunger, he would have done so. At the very least he would have said something, but, since he hadn’t, it was obvious that he wasn’t about to take any action himself.

It didn’t matter. It had never mattered. Neither of them had been in any position to act on their feelings before and they still weren’t. There was Diego to consider after all.

Perhaps it would be better to simply ignore the moment as if it hadn’t happened. Pretend that she hadn’t seen the heat in his eyes, that he hadn’t told her to stop looking at him like that.

As if you’re just as starving as he is?

She forced the thought away. No, she wasn’t starving. She didn’t want him. It was better if she convinced herself of that because nothing was going to change between them. Nothing at all.

Slowly, Alice opened her eyes and risked a glance at the man sitting beside her. He had a sleek tablet in his hands and was doing something that must be very important because he was staring ferociously at it as if it were the most fascinating thing in the entire universe.

Her thoughts drifted back to what he’d told her about his father and about how he wasn’t Mateo’s biological son, that he’d been the product of his mother’s affair with a stable hand. That little fact had got lost in the abrupt crackling heat that had sprung between them, but she couldn’t forget it.

That had shocked her. It had also made his determination to claim Diego as his own far more understandable, since Diego was the product of an affair, too. Except Sebastián had been adamant that he wouldn’t treat Diego the way his own father had treated him. He hadn’t elaborated on what way that was, but, given how he’d brushed off her question, it probably wasn’t good.

It made her curious, though, and she wanted to know more. But this wasn’t the time for yet more difficult conversations, so she left him to whatever work he was doing, staying silent for the rest of the trip and staring out of the window. Trying to distract herself with plans for Diego and how she could find ways to keep herself in his life that wouldn’t involve too many confrontations with Sebastián.

It wasn’t until they came in to land on the rooftop of a beautiful old building in central Madrid that Alice realised she should have been thinking about more immediate concerns. Such as being in his presence for however long this business trip lasted and just how that was going to work.

As soon as the helicopter’s rotors slowed, Sebastián got out, talking in rapid Spanish to a tall, older woman in a black uniform who was waiting on the rooftop. She glanced at Alice then back at Sebastián, nodding all the while. Then, without a backward glance, Sebastián walked away.

Okay, so that was how it was going to be. That was good. Distance was better for both of them.

Alice got out of the helicopter and the woman introduced herself in heavily accented Spanish as Gabriela, the duke’s housekeeper, and said that he’d instructed her to show Alice around and to provide anything she might need.

Where the hacienda was full of old-world charm, Sebastián’s Madrid apartment was sleek and modern. Inside it was all white walls, black accents, and gold fittings. Gabriela showed Alice to a beautiful bedroom with long gauzy curtains covering the windows and wide white bed scattered with pillows and cushions. Then she asked Alice what she needed in the way of clothes and other ‘comforts’ since she hadn’t brought anything with her.

Alice—uncharacteristically—hadn’t remembered that until Gabriela mentioned it and abruptly became aware that she was standing in this beautiful, sleek-looking apartment that had probably cost millions and she was in old shorts and a T-shirt. And not only that, but she also hadn’t brought her phone or any money, or even her passport.

She began to explain to Gabriela, but the older woman only shrugged, simply stating that since the duke had instructed that all her needs be met, they would be met. Clothes would be brought for her, as would anything else.

It was going to be difficult to refuse since she could hardly keep wearing her clothes for three days straight, and she had no money to buy any more. However, Alice did insist on finding her own clothes and that an itemised list of prices be kept so she could pay Sebastián back. Gabriela merely shrugged.

The afternoon was taken up with a visit to an incredibly high-end department store with Gabriela, who attended to all the payments. Alice tried to buy a few cheapish items, only to have hangers of beautiful dresses shoved at her by the very insistent housekeeper.

Again, she very much wanted to refuse, but since there was nothing to do in the apartment except sit, and since she was in Madrid and having dresses shoved at her, she might as well try them on, if only to keep herself amused.

Unfortunately it seemed that quite a few of them Gabriela insisted she buy, since ‘the duke is paying’ and then some matching shoes needed to be bought, also underwear of the lacy, silky variety. Then Alice found herself back in the apartment that evening, surrounded by bags and boxes and feeling a little like Cinderella.

Everything had been astonishingly expensive, and she was already trying to think of how she would pay for it all, and berating herself for spending so much money. Except she’d never had a shopping trip like it. Even when she and Emily would do a sisters’ shopping trip, it had mostly ended up being about Emily buying lovely, delicate, feminine things, while nothing had seemed to fit Alice the way it fitted her sister. She always felt too tall, too large, too ungainly. An Amazon trying to fit into a dress made for a delicate fairy.

But she hadn’t been able to resist the dresses that Gabriela had shown her, each one making her feel as if somehow some magic had been employed and she really was the fairy she’d always longed to be.

It was silly to indulge herself like that, not to mention pointless. Because where would she ever wear any of them? At home it was always suits to work and then sweat pants in the evening to sit in front of the TV. Even when Edward was alive, that was all she’d wear. He hadn’t seemed to care, which had been nice on the one hand, but, on the other, he’d never mentioned it when she had made an effort, so it had also left her feeling unappreciated.

Gabriela hadn’t mentioned when Sebastián would be back, which was annoying. She had to force this discussion with him somehow, get some kind of resolution, otherwise what would have been the point of coming to Madrid?

An idea stole through her head, one she’d never contemplated before and shouldn’t be contemplating now and yet she couldn’t shake it.

There was one way she could get his attention. One way to make him have this conversation with her. One way to bring him round to her way of thinking, even.

She could use the physical chemistry between them, the desire that flared whenever they were near each other. It was maybe a little manipulative, but this was Diego they were talking about and she’d do whatever she had to do for him.

Of course, there was always the risk of such a plan backfiring on her, but it wasn’t as if she were going to sleep with Sebastián. She’d already decided that nothing would happen between them. She’d just...toy with him a little, cloud his judgement. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t been doing to her for the past five years, after all.

Feeling pleased with herself, she showered in the white marble and gold bathroom then carefully chose one of the dresses she’d bought, a beautiful deep red silk number with a plunging neckline and cut on the bias to enhance her curves, before falling from her hips to swirl provocatively around her thighs.

Then she went out to the huge open-plan dining/living area where she sat in grand solitude as Gabriela served her a delicious dinner of a tortilla and salad. No mention was made of when Sebastián would return, but that was fine. She’d just wait until he appeared.

Afterwards, Alice curled up with a book in one of the comfortable armchairs in the small library. On the low coffee table in front of her, Gabriela had put a glass of extraordinarily good Spanish red wine and some squares of chocolate.

It was nice to be looked after, Alice realised, and she could see why Emily had liked it so much. No thought was required and no energy expended. All she had to do was sit there and have all her needs catered for and for someone like her, who usually preferred to have control over most parts of her life, it was refreshing not to have to do it all herself.

She was just on the point of deciding whether she should have another piece of chocolate or a coffee to keep herself awake, when the door to the library opened and Sebastián walked in.

Instantly all thoughts of sleep vanished.

He stood in the doorway, darkly handsome, intensely attractive, with his tie loosened, the top buttons of his black business shirt undone, his golden eyes widening as he noticed her sitting there.

Her heart began to beat faster, harder, the air in the room getting as thick and electric as it had in the helicopter earlier on that day.

The approach she’d chosen for this conversation was dangerous, which meant she couldn’t rush it. She had to do this carefully.

Taking a breath, she put down her wine and the book, slipping from the armchair and getting to her feet.

‘Good, I’m glad you’re back,’ she said into the tense silence, hoping she didn’t sound as breathless as she felt. ‘We need to talk.’

He hadn’t moved, his gaze searing as it scanned her from head to foot, following the curves of the red silk dress and then back up again. And there it was, once more, that hungry look in his eyes, the burning intensity that stole all the air from her lungs.

‘Sebastián,’ she managed, though what else she’d been going to say, she had no idea. Because that was the moment he finally moved towards her, striding forward as if for battle, as if nothing was going to stand in his way. And she should have done something, followed through with her plan, but she didn’t. She stood there, her heart beating its way out of her chest as he stopped in front of her. Then he lifted his hands as if reaching for a prize he’d worked long and hard for, thrusting his fingers into her hair and dragging her head back. And his mouth covered hers and the whole universe stopped.

There was heat and demand and hunger. Years of aching need. Longing and desperation and she was lost to it. All her good intentions fell away, her plan and everything that went with it, all her guilt, all her grief. There was only his hard mouth on hers in a kiss that she’d spent so many years fantasising about, and now was finally happening.

She couldn’t control herself. The thought of stopping simply didn’t enter her head. Instead, she groaned in sheer relief and melted into him, winding her arms around his neck, leaning into the heat of his muscular body, opening her mouth, and letting him in. And he tasted as good as she’d always imagined he would. No, better. Like dark chocolate and Scotch, and everything delicious and sinful and wrong.

All of this was wrong and yet no power on earth would have pulled her away. His fingers were tight in her hair and he was devouring her as if he were starving. His tongue in her mouth, exploring, demanding, taking.

Then he shifted one hand from her hair down to the small of her back, pulling her hard against him, only the thin silk of her dress and the wool of his suit trousers separating them. She could feel the tensile strength of his body and it excited her. There was so much power there and he was so tall. Taller than Edward. Broader and more muscular, too. She loved that. Loved how it made her feel so delicate and feminine in comparison. She could feel the hard length of his arousal pressing between her thighs, his hunger for her obvious.

It thrilled her down to the bone.

She’d spent so long feeling unattractive and unwanted, and nothing she’d done to make herself more appealing had made any difference to Edward. He’d withdrawn from her so relentlessly and completely that eventually she’d stopped trying.

But now Sebastián wanted her. Sebastián was desperate for her and she wanted more than anything in the world to give herself to him.

The kiss went on and on, increasing in desperation until eventually Sebastián dropped one hand from her back and took a fistful of her dress, tugging hard and ripping the silk from her body. She barely noticed. Then she was on her back on the carpet in front of the small fireplace, and he was tearing at her underwear like a madman, shredding the flimsy material and getting rid of it.

His eyes glowed bright like coins, the expression on his beautiful face ferocious with desire. She grabbed at his tie, ripping it away then clawing at the buttons on his shirt, jerking it open to get to the hot skin beneath. She had dreamed of touching him for so long and she felt as if she might die if she didn’t right this instant.

He gave a low masculine growl as her hands touched his chest, hot skin and crisp hair and hard muscle. Then he shifted, reaching down to jerk the buttons of his trousers open, shoving her thighs apart as he did so, pressing them wide, opening her up to him.

She was panting now, the pressure and the dragging ache between her legs becoming impossible to fight. The air around them was full of the sound of their panting breaths and then suddenly he was there, the long thick length of him pressing through the soft folds of her sex. Sliding into her so easily, so perfectly, just as she knew he would.

He was made for her. She felt it deep in her heart. In her soul.

She cried out as he settled inside her and arched up into him, the press of his body against hers, the weight of him on her so right. His fingers threaded through hers as he took her hands up and over her head, pressing them down to the carpet and holding them there. And he began to move, hard and deep, golden eyes staring down into hers as if transfixed.

There was fierce desire in them and also shock, as if he couldn’t believe they were actually doing this, and she felt the same shock echoing through her.

They were joined finally and at last, and the sensations were indescribable. So much heat and need. Relief and a burgeoning wonder at what was happening. At how good it was to be here together, after so many years.

She wanted to say his name but she couldn’t speak, the feelings becoming more and more intense with each passing moment. Her fingers tightened around his as she watched the pleasure glow in his eyes and knew he could see the same in hers. It was an endless feedback loop of ecstasy that only stoked the madness higher.

It didn’t last. It couldn’t. They’d held back for so long and she was only human.

The orgasm came crashing down on her with unstoppable force far too quickly and with far more power than she’d ever imagined, a wave of pleasure so intense that his name finally burst from her in a hoarse cry. Then he was moving faster and harder until he bent his head and covered her mouth again as it took him too.

Sebastián lay there, the silence broken only by their fractured breathing, for one long moment blissfully free of thought. Reality was the softness of the woman beneath him, the scent of sex and lavender in the air, and a physical contentment he couldn’t recall ever feeling.

Then reality crashed in on him.

This was Alice. His sister-in-law. And he’d lost control. Spectacularly. All his good intentions, everything he’d told himself about restraint and being cold, being distant, had gone out of the window the moment he’d seen her curled up in the chair. In that red silk dress that made her sexy enough to tempt an angel.

And an angel he was not.

All day, in the endless meetings he’d attended with his bankers and lawyers, securing Diego’s future, and setting in stone that this boy was his son and heir, when he should have been paying attention, he’d been thinking of Alice.

Thinking of that moment in the helicopter, when he’d known in an instant that she’d wanted him every bit as badly as he’d wanted her. But he’d decided that he would not act on it. Could not act on it. And every second of the day he’d told himself the same thing over and over, that desire was a bad thing, it led people down the wrong path. It hurt people. It made them mean and cruel and petty. It made them like his father, and he wouldn’t allow that to happen to himself. He was better than that.

He’d purposely stayed later than he’d needed to with his lawyers, just to make doubly sure of his control, and when he’d finally got back to the apartment, he’d been looking forward to settling in the library with a glass of good Scotch.

Except she’d been there, curled in the chair. Her hair loose over her shoulders, wearing a red silk dress that clung to every one of her delectable curves. She’d looked up from the book she’d been reading, and her dark eyes had met his and the moment from the helicopter had rushed back in on him.

Then she’d got to her feet, the fabric of the dress swirling around her, outlining lush breasts and generous hips, and all he’d been able to think about was how much he wanted to rip that dress from her body and finally get his hands all over her. How impossible it was maintaining such control over himself when she was right in front of him, and they were both finally free.

How he couldn’t bear it a second longer.

Every step he’d taken towards her had been a mistake, every action as he’d reached for her a grievous error. They’d built on each other, all those mistakes, until he’d been crushed by the weight of them and then nothing had mattered any more.

To slide his fingers through the silken glory of her hair and then feel the softness of her mouth open beneath his had been like finding water in the desert. Such a profound relief. Then having her body press against his... He’d never let himself fantasise about it but the feel of her had been better than anything he could have imagined.

He’d wanted to spend hours exploring her lush body, but there hadn’t been any time to spare. He’d been too desperate. And when he’d spread her thighs and finally slid inside her, becoming one with her, it had felt like coming home.

You have made a mistake. A terrible mistake.

He didn’t want the cold trickle of doubt to disturb his contentment, but it did all the same, the trickle becoming a flood.

He’d crossed the line he’d drawn for himself years ago, broken the private vow he’d made never to treat her as anything more than his sister-in-law. It didn’t matter that Emily had gone. It didn’t matter that she’d been unfaithful to him, and that they hadn’t shared a bed for over a year. It didn’t matter that she’d fallen in love with someone else.

He’d promised himself he would never do anything about Alice, and he’d broken that promise. Now all those years of denying himself meant nothing.

Desire was a terrible force. It had driven Sebastián’s mother into the affair that had eventually led to her having Sebastián and then dying. It had fuelled Mateo’s jealous rage at being betrayed, which he’d then taken out on Sebastián.

And Sebastián’s own desire to belong to someone had driven him to seek out the only man he’d ever felt a kinship with: Javier, who had managed the stables and who’d turned out to be Sebastian’s biological father—not that he’d known that at the time.

Desire caused nothing but pain and he’d tried so hard to keep his own in check, but he’d failed. And it was too late to pretend it hadn’t happened. Too late to go back and make a different choice.

You didn’t even remember a condom.

Yet more ice slid down his spine.

He shifted, pushing himself away from Alice and getting to his feet, putting his clothes back in order. His hands were shaking.

‘Sebastián?’ Her voice was soft and husky and there was an uncertain note in it that tugged at his heart.

He gave himself a minute to gather the tattered remnants of his control then glanced at her.

She was sitting on the floor, her bra half off one shoulder, her knickers a scrap of ripped lace off to one side, her hair a black smoky storm. Her lips were red and full, and she looked thoroughly ravaged and so utterly beautiful he nearly lost control a second time and reached for her.

Instead, he said the first words that entered his head. ‘I didn’t use a condom.’

Colour crept through her cheeks, and she glanced away. ‘It’s fine. You don’t need to worry about that.’ Her voice had lost the uncertainty, becoming so determinedly neutral, he knew that somehow he’d hurt her.

Of course you hurt her. You took her like an animal and then the first words out of your mouth were about a lack of condom. Nothing about her. Nothing about how beautiful she was or how good she made you feel.

His chest tightened. She was reaching for the remains of her dress and trying to put it on, though it was now thoroughly ruined. Her hands were shaking too.

‘Alice,’ he said, trying to sound gentler. ‘I should have found one—’

‘I said, you don’t have to worry about that.’ She was looking at him now, and he could see a flicker of anger in her eyes.

‘Why not?’ he asked without thinking. ‘Are you on the pill?’

She got to her feet, still clutching the remains of her dress around her, and lifted her chin. Her expression was shuttered and that made his chest tighten even more. ‘No.’ Her voice was as flat as his had been. ‘You don’t need to worry about that, because I can’t have children, okay?’

He blinked in shock. ‘What?’

‘I’m not sure how much clearer I can be, Sebastián.’ The red silk falling around her half-naked body and the oddly defiant look in her eyes made her look as regal as an empress. ‘I had a bad miscarriage a couple of years ago and now I’m infertile. So don’t worry, you won’t be having any unexpected consequences from this little...mistake.’

She sounded cool and yet he knew now that she wasn’t. He’d held her in his arms, been inside her, felt her passion join with his in a bonfire so bright and so hot it eclipsed the sun. He also knew that, no matter how expressionless or cool her voice sounded, the miscarriage had been the thing that had devastated her. Had dimmed that light inside her. And now he’d been thoughtless with a question he shouldn’t have asked and it had hurt her. He hadhurt her. And she didn’t deserve that.

‘Alice...’ He took a breath, running a distracted hand through his hair. ‘I had no idea...’

‘Of course, you didn’t. Why would you? No one knew except Edward.’

‘Emily didn’t—’

‘No.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said when she didn’t say anything else. ‘I didn’t mean to hurt you.’

‘I’m not hurt.’ She tightened the fabric around her. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I think I’ll go to bed.’

She began to move past him, but his hand shot out before he was even conscious of it doing so, his fingers closing around her arm, her skin warm and silky beneath his fingertips. She stopped in her tracks, looking straight ahead. ‘Sebastián, I don’t—’

‘We need to talk about what just happened,’ he said shortly, because now he was starting to think straight again, they really did. He could, of course, pretend that this had never occurred. Simply ignore it and continue on with their lives, and yet how could they do that when they still had Diego to negotiate?

Her head turned, her dark gaze unreadable. ‘Do we? It was a mistake, I think we can both agree, so what more needs to be said?’

‘Was it really a mistake to you?’ He shouldn’t be asking her this, especially when he agreed. But he couldn’t stop himself. Couldn’t stop his fingers from tightening on her arm, because touching her bare skin was something he’d never get enough of.

She didn’t look away, and he could see the embers of the heat between them, still smouldering, ready to burst into flame at any moment. But also hurt and regret and a thousand other things he couldn’t interpret.

He felt the same way. It was so complicated, and he knew he shouldn’t be pushing her, that it was dangerous. That if he wasn’t careful and pushed too hard, he’d lose control of himself a second time and they’d end up where they had been not five minutes earlier. Naked on the floor. And that wouldn’t solve anything.

‘I...’ She stopped then took a breath. ‘Of course, it was a mistake. How could it be anything else? It was the grief talking, that’s all, and it shouldn’t have happened.’

But it wasn’t the grief, or maybe not only the grief. It had been more than that. When he’d looked down into her eyes as he’d been deep inside her, he’d seen the wonder there, glowing bright.

Except pretending this thing between them didn’t exist was the lie they’d told themselves for years, the lie they kept on telling themselves in order for them both to have the future they wanted.

A future that had been destroyed by their respective spouses.

Now all they had were the remains: grief and guilt and no answer to either.

He shouldn’t make this harder. He shouldn’t want to hear her say that it hadn’t been the grief, that it had been more, because there was nothing to be gained from that conversation. Knowing it wouldn’t make the slightest bit of difference to the distance they had to keep between them.

Perhaps, after all, it was easier if they pretended nothing had happened.

Yes, that was probably for the best.

He dropped his hand from her arm, the warmth of her skin lingering on his fingertips. ‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘It was a mistake. I’ll let you get to bed.’

Something flickered through her gaze, though he couldn’t tell what, and then, without another word, she left the room, leaving him to the silence.