THE VALQUEZ SEDUCTION(50)
Daisy reached up and smoothed out the crease between his eyes. ‘Yes, it does.’
He pushed her hand away and got off the bed. ‘I have to—’
‘I know, I know,’ she said with a knowing smile. ‘You have to make some calls or check some emails, right?’
He shifted his lips from side to side as if wondering what to do with her. ‘What is it you want from me?’
‘I told you. A holiday fling. Sex without strings.’
He raked a hand through his hair, releasing a harsh-sounding breath. ‘You expect me to believe that?’
‘Why not?’
He stepped back into his jeans and pulled up the zip. ‘Because it doesn’t usually work that way.’
‘You mean because women usually want the fairy-tale ending?’
‘Don’t you?’
‘Yes, but not with you.’
He looked about to ask something but changed his mind. His mouth slammed shut as he glowered at her. But, for all that, the unspoken words rang in the silence: Why not me?
Daisy decided to answer anyway and ticked off her fingers as if checking off a list. ‘One. You’re a player, not a stayer. Two. You live in Argentina and I live in England. Three. You’re—’
‘Spare me the rest,’ he muttered. ‘I think I get the picture.’
She swung her legs off the bed and reached for the bathrobe, making a little moue with her mouth. ‘I thought men were supposed to be all soft and mellow after sex? You’re a big old grouch.’
He let out a just audible curse. ‘I’m going to have a shower.’
‘Is that code for “you’re pressing my buttons”?’ she asked innocently.
He caught her by the ties of the bathrobe and pulled her roughly to him. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s code for “I haven’t finished pressing yours”.’
* * *
Luiz left Daisy sleeping while he read through the sponsorship contract that had come through on email. But his gaze kept tracking back to the bed, where she lay with her cheek resting on one of her hands. Her hair was spread out over his pillow, her kiss-swollen mouth slightly parted. His groin tingled at the memory of her mouth beneath his, the way her tongue played and flirted with his.
He glanced at the bedside clock. Midnight. The second night he’d spent with her. The first one he’d spent watching her sleep. The second one he’d spent making love with her and wondering how he was going to let her go at the end of their affair.
Was this how his brother felt watching Teddy sleep? This inexplicable feeling of tenderness he couldn’t shake off, no matter how much he wanted to?
Daisy didn’t belong in his life. He had no time for a relationship. He wasn’t relationship material—a fact she kept reminding him of at annoyingly regular intervals. He was the first to list his inadequacies. He didn’t need her to spell them out for him. He knew he was unreliable in a relationship. He got bored easily. He liked to get out first before someone left him.
But for the first time in a long time—possibly ever—he didn’t want to leave. He wanted to see Daisy wake up in the morning, blink those big baby-blues at him a couple of times and then smile that radiant smile that made something in his chest squeeze tight. He wanted to sit opposite her and watch her eat her breakfast like a child who had been let loose in a candy store. He wanted to see her embrace her sensuality even more, to indulge her senses without the hang-ups she had about her body. How she could doubt her physical beauty astonished him. She might not be as reed-thin as some of the models he’d dated but she had an inner beauty that was even more alluring.