Kept by the Spanish Billionaire(45)

‘You seem obsessed with rose bushes.’ He nuzzled her hair, which smelt of shampoo and sun. It had to be said that she was a funny little thing. It was incredibly easy to tease her. Why? He supposed because she was so lacking in gravitas. He guiltily had to admit that there was something refreshing about her easygoing nature. But no, he told himself, she was a novelty and novelties wore off. The women he needed and wanted were the Elizabeths of this world, as fiercely competitive as he was, as understanding of his mammoth working hours as he was of theirs, as deeply interested in the stock markets as he was. And anyway, he uneasily reminded himself that he had only involved himself with the woman because she posed a possible threat to James, of whom he was very protective.

He vaguely recalled some plan or other to lull her away from any ideas she might have had of rekindling her interest in his brother once they had returned to the normality of England. Now, as she gazed at him, he resurrected all those healthy thoughts.

Because there was no way he had any intention of leading her up any garden paths.

He had taken time off, had deviated from his usual routine and, yes, he had enjoyed it, but it was time for him to get his normal, ordered, high-octane life back.

Communicating with his office via e-mail and phone calls was fine but it had to stop. As did their pleasant but passing little fling.

‘Don’t you yearn to…see the world?’

‘I might if I didn’t think that the familiar is as important as the unknown.’

‘You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you?’

‘Doing what?’ He inserted his thigh between hers and slowly moved it back and forth. She inhaled sharply and half closed her eyes.

‘No. Don’t.’ Amy untangled herself from his erotic caress and firmly placed her leg over his. ‘I want to talk, Rafael. And I don’t want you confusing me. You’re clever with your words but I don’t want clever, I want honest. Do you realise that I leave tomorrow? This is the last night we’re going to spend together and…’ she breathed in deeply and said in one fast rush ‘…I promised myself that I wasn’t to ask you any of this, but here goes…what’s going to happen to us? I’m not asking for commitment from you, Rafael, but do we have any kind of short, very short, future? Obviously, you’ve got responsibilities here…those rose bushes….’ She tried her hand at a weak joke but she could already sense him pulling back.#p#分页标题#e#

‘Okay. Forget I said anything,’ she whispered, wriggling away from him.

‘No.’ Rafael sighed and then did the one thing that brought home to her, like a hammer blow, just how ridiculous she had been to have started having those crazy things called hopes and dreams.

He got out of bed.

‘We’ve had a good time over the past few days and you want to talk, then talk we shall. But I don’t think bed is the best place for the conversation.’

‘I don’t want to talk,’ Amy said miserably.

He didn’t answer. He started getting dressed. Just his dressing gown, but it might as well have been a suit for the distance it suddenly placed between them.

Amy scrambled to do the same. It helped that he had disappeared into the bathroom, that place that had seen many a shared shower. She hurriedly slipped on her clothes and was fully dressed by the time he returned.

‘Coffee?’ he asked.

It’s over, she heard. ‘Okay.’

She watched in silence as he made them both a mug of coffee. Just in the space of a few days, she seemed to have become familiar with all his mannerisms, the way he lounged against the kitchen counter when he was waiting for the kettle to boil, the way he frowned and raked his fingers through his hair just before he said something he considered important, the way he rubbed the back of his neck when he was tired. It was a horrifying realisation because it showed just how much he had got under her skin.

‘You want to know where this is going. That’s what all these “don’t you long to travel and see the world?” questions are leading.’ She had sat at the kitchen table and Rafael now swivelled his chair and straddled it so that he was directly facing her. She could see that look on his face, that I’m-about-to-let-you-down-gently look. Poor Amy. Time for the Good-bye Talk.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake, Rafael. There’s no need to make such a song and dance about it!’ She was going to work her way quickly through the coffee, while giving a speech of her own. ‘I wasn’t trying to arrange a date for you to come to England!’

‘No? Then what about the short, short future?’