The Real Romero(51)

                Standing at the front door was a tall, striking woman leaning on a walking stick. Black hair was pulled back from an angular, handsome face.

                ‘I have no idea why my mother can’t let one of the maids get the door.’ But there was affectionate indulgence in his voice and Milly had a vivid image of the boy beneath the man, the unguarded person beneath the cynical, hard-edged adult in control of an empire. He was a loving son and she had a moment of piercing happiness that she had agreed to this unexpected charade.

                ‘She probably just can’t wait to see you.’

                ‘To see us...’ The limo swerved smoothly to a halt and, as they emerged from the car, she felt the heavy weight of his arm sling over her shoulders. ‘We are, after all, the loving couple,’ he whispered into her ear and the warmth of his breath made her want to squirm. ‘At least before the rot sets in...’ And, to prove his point, he curved his hand under her hair to caress the nape of her neck.

                And then, barely breaking stride, with such naturalness that anyone would have been forgiven for thinking that what they had was real, he paused, dipped his head and covered her mouth lightly with his.

                Just a brief meeting of tongues, enough to do devastating things to her body, then he was pulling away, hand still caressing her neck. The epitome of a man in love.

                He couldn’t have been more successful at killing her nerves because how could she be nervous about facing his mother when her thoughts were all over the place at that what that casual kiss had done to her body...?





                                      CHAPTER SEVEN

                ANTONIA ROMERO WAS an elegant, quietly spoken woman who immediately put Milly at ease. She ushered them in warmly, allowing Lucas to kiss her on the cheek and then fret at the fact that she had come to the door herself when she should be resting, when there was help in the house to do things like answer doors.

                ‘I just couldn’t wait to meet Milly...’ she protested, drawing Milly into the living room, where tea and pastries were waiting for them on a low glass table while a pretty, smiling maid hovered in the background, ready to leap to service. ‘And I know you must be tired after your trip but I’m dying to hear all about your romance. I knew it. I just knew that son of mine would end up finding true love with a real woman and not one of those plastic dolls he’s spent his life fooling around with.’

                Milly sneaked a surreptitious look at Lucas to see how he was handling his mother’s criticism and he caught her eye and grinned, eyebrows raised.

                ‘Didn’t I tell you that my mother has no problem saying exactly what she thinks?’ He shooed Antonia back to the sofa as she automatically rose to pour them tea and hand round the pastries. On cue, the maid leaped into action and refreshments were served before the maid vanished out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

                With Antonia on the low, damask pink sofa facing her, Milly had a chance really to look at her hostess. There were fine lines of strain around her eyes and mouth and she was borderline too thin, barely filling the black, shapeless dress that hung down to her calves, yet it wasn’t hard to see that she must have been a great beauty in her day. Not that she was exactly ancient now. At a guess, Milly would have put her in her mid to late sixties.

                She tried to maintain the chirpy smile of a woman in love as Lucas helped himself to a few more pastries before subsiding right next to her on the sofa, a replica of the one on which Antonia was sitting, his thigh pressed against hers.

                She had been leaning forward, perched on the edge of the sofa, her hand primly linked on her knees, and now he pulled her back so that she tumbled against him.