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Эбби Грин – Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride (страница 3)

18

She cast a quick glance back towards the planes, unable to help herself. She could just see the top of his dark head, surrounded by people—mainly adoring women from the looks of it.

She turned away resolutely and ducked inside, reassuring herself that by the time they came out all the pilots would be gone. After a few minutes she was feeling somewhat calmer, and walked around taking in the information with genuine interest. From a small plaque that was tucked into a corner she learned about a devastating earthquake at the turn of the century, which had reduced the population of nearly a thousand to a few hundred. It was only in recent decades that the island had begun to thrive again.

Apparently it had been in the hands of one family since the time of the crusades. They were called Salgado-Lézille, and had come originally from Spain. That would explain the hacienda-like houses Jane thought, remembering seeing them dotted around the harbour and elsewhere. And in retrospect there was something vaguely Moorish about the shape of the majestic castle.

She had turned to follow the crush out the door when the light was blocked momentarily and someone came in.

It was him. Even before she saw his face she knew. He scanned the room as people passed by him, and Jane held her breath. Slowly his gaze came to rest on her and stopped. Immediately her heart started to thump and her legs turned to jelly.

He stared at her.

Jane shook herself mentally. This was crazy. How could she be reacting like this again? She turned away and looked back at a document behind the glass, but she could see his shape reflected. He wasn’t moving. She forced herself to walk around the exhibit again and admonished herself. She was going to have to leave sooner or later, and there was no way he would have come in just to stare at her.

But he was. She could feel it.

All she had to do was walk past him. Easy.

She followed the chattering line of other tourists heading out, drawing ever closer to the door, looking anywhere but at the disturbing man and his large, broad-shouldered body leaning insouciantly against the wall. She sensed his dark gaze, hot and heavy upon her, like a physical caress, and trembled.

Now there were only two people in front of her. Why had they stopped? She dampened down her irritation. Her reaction was completely over the top. She just needed to get back out into the fresh air. That must be it, she comforted herself—the heat. As if to prove her point, she felt a trickle of sweat between her breasts.

She could see his long legs crossed at the ankles. She focused on the back of the heavy loud man in front of her. Maybe she could pretend she was with him, ensuring a smooth passage past. She had no idea why it was so important; she just felt it deep in the core of her being.

She was almost beside him now, the breath hitching in her throat. He took up her peripheral vision. She didn’t have to be looking at him to know what he was like. Despite only the brief moment the day before, and her distant view earlier today, she knew she would be able to describe him in detail.

Thick dark hair, swept high off a strong broad forehead. Harsh, vitally masculine face, lines broken only by an aquiline nose, sensually sculpted lips. And those mesmerising eyes, the eyelashes visible even from a distance. His flight suit enhanced his commanding physique.

‘Oh, my God, he is gorgeous.’

You don’t say, Jane thought wryly at Sherry’s indiscreetly loud whisper behind her. Without looking she could feel his sardonic smile. He had heard and understood; he must speak English.

She was almost at the door, almost home free, when her wrist was captured in an electrifying grip by a familiarly strong lean hand. The people behind her jostled, and to avoid a crush she had to move closer, go with the pull of the hand. Her blue eyes huge, she looked up at him.

He drew her in, close to his body, the people pushing past her inadvertently moving her in even closer. She could feel the heat of his thigh, hard against her own through the thin material of her dress.

What was happening?

She looked up, the question on her face, captivated by his gaze, which looked back down at her, lazily assessing. This man who had dominated nearly her every thought since yesterday.

‘What are you looking at?’ she croaked.

‘You,’ he answered with deceptive simplicity, and the word rocked through Jane’s body.

‘Who … who are you?’

He didn’t answer, just kept a loose, yet immovable grip on her wrist. She could feel her pulse thumping against the warm skin of his hand like a captured bird. Something in her blood leapt, and excited anticipation built in her belly. The part of her that he had reached yesterday, unknown and alien, was coming to life again … just under his look. He smiled indolently, before his eyes left hers to look her up and down so thoroughly that she felt naked, exposed. A flush spread from her belly all the way up to her neck. She tried to yank her wrist away to no avail; his grip only tightened. He couldn’t possibly remember her, could he?

Nerves made her blurt out, ‘Who do you think you are? How dare you look at me like that …?’

His eyes bored into hers, the green becoming darker, making him look dangerous, ‘You pretend to not recognise me?’

He remembered.

‘No … well, that is, yes. I saw you yesterday in the street … when you bumped into me.’

‘As I recall it was the other way around, n’est ce pas?’

His voice sounded as though it had been dipped in honey treacle, deep and dark, with only the barest hint of an accent, his English flawless. She was finding it hard to concentrate.

‘I was just reading a map. Surely you saw me …’ She cursed the breathless tone in her voice.

He ran a quick glance up and down again. ‘Oh, I saw you all right.’

She saw the amusement lurking in his eyes and she tried to pull away again. This time he let her go, and she felt inexplicably bereft.

‘You should have been looking where you were going. You could have collided with a more … immovable object.’

From what she could remember, all too well, he had been like a wall … a wall of hard-packed muscle. She felt her legs weaken. More than disturbed by the effect he was having on her, she looked at him incensed,

‘The street was empty … it’s hardly a crime to divert one’s attention for a moment.’

He inclined his head in a surprisingly old-fashioned gesture. ‘Maybe we can agree that we were equally to blame.’

She huffed slightly. ‘It’s no big deal.’

‘Yet you are the one who seems to be upset about it,’ he pointed out, picking up on her discomfort.

Jane looked around then, and saw that they were alone in the building. Everyone else had disappeared. When had that happened?

She looked out through the door and sighed with relief when she saw the bus, where the others were embarking. She turned to find him right behind her, and stepped back hurriedly.

‘I have to go … that’s my bus leaving now.’

He caught her hand just as she turned away. Her pulse leapt again.

‘Would you do me the honour of being my dinner guest tonight? To … foster a truce and allow me to make amends for my part in our collision.’

He was smooth, and practised, and too, too seductive. Jane shook her head, slightly dazed. He was asking her out for dinner? Her eyes met his. No way, no way, went through her mind. This man was so out of her league that he might as well be from another planet. She didn’t have the wherewithal to sit across a table from him! She’d dissolve in a puddle within minutes. And the way he was looking at her … as though he wanted to have her for dinner!

‘I’m sorry,’ she said stiffly, pulling her hand free. ‘I … I have arrangements made already, but thank you for asking.’

His eyes probed hers for an uncomfortably long moment, and then he shrugged lightly, a shuttered look descending over his face. ‘Very well.’

Now she had offended him, she thought miserably. Without knowing what to say or do, she stepped away and half ran, half walked back to the bus.

She sank into her seat breathing heavily. She felt hot and bothered, her hand still tingling where he had caught it. Jane evaded Sherry’s very pointed look and stared out of the window.

All the way back to the mainland she veered between feeling as if she had made a lucky escape and extreme self-recrimination. Since bumping into him she had thought of little else, even fantasised about having dinner with him, but when she was offered the opportunity what did she do? Refused point-blank.

She didn’t deserve a date with such a man if she couldn’t even handle being asked out. And why had he asked her out? She couldn’t fathom it. She could tell that he was mannerly—perhaps it was a pilot thing, a code of conduct? Although somehow he didn’t look like just a pilot. Her brain began to throb. She couldn’t help but feel as though she had let herself down in some way. She could well imagine Lisa’s reaction.

Back on land, she sighed to herself, trying to catch a glimpse of the island which was too far away to view in the late-afternoon haze. She would just have to put it down to experience. A man like Lisa’s brother Dominic was obviously all she could handle … maybe this was a sign.