She’d known the man was cynical, even if she hadn’t known of his background. His whole demeanour screamed jaded. It was one of the things that had intrigued her about him—the fact that such an obviously world-weary man was attracted to her, who couldn’t be more his opposite.
Skye had managed to retain a fairly sunny outlook on life, in spite of her own experiences. Only she knew about the walls she’d erected over her lifetime that protected her from letting anyone get too close.
Except once again Lazaro had proved how flimsy those walls were. He, uniquely, got to her. Got under her skin. And that made him very dangerous.
As for how she felt about him, and the way he made her body sing whether she liked it or not, that was just something she would have to deal with.
She told herself that by the time he returned to discuss the future, she’d be feeling more in control.
* * *
Lazaro was used to women storming away from him—usually after he’d told them their liaison with him was over. But this was different. He’d never felt an urge to go after any of them and yet he’d had to physically restrain himself from following Skye.
Her words rang in his head: ‘If you think I’d sign up for a repeat performance of that night or anything like it then you’ve another think coming.’
Another novelty. And he had to admit that her words stung. That night had been the most erotic experience he could remember in a long time. If ever. Not to mention their kiss earlier.
Lazaro thought of another man being the first to awaken her innate sensuality and his hand gripped his wine glass so tight that he had to relax for fear of breaking it. He looked at the sweet dessert that Almudena had left on the table but his appetite had fled.
His carnal appetite, however, was alive and burning him up inside.
Emitting a curse, Lazaro got up and went inside. He was in control of this situation and he was not at the mercy of his libido.
CHAPTER FIVE
Two weeks later
‘SO HOW EXACTLY were you planning on handling this situation, hmm?’
Lazaro scowled at his best friend, Ciro Sant’Angelo, whom he’d met up with in Rome to discuss a business proposition.
Ciro was holding up an Italian tabloid with a grainy picture of Skye from that night at the hotel on its front page and the screaming headline: Pregnant with Lazaro Sanchez’s baby—but where is she now?
Ciro threw down the paper on his desk. Tall, dark and handsome. He would have been the quintessential Italian god, if it wasn’t for the jagged scar that ran down his right cheek, giving him a dangerous air. It was the result of a kidnapping he’d endured some years before.
He said now, ‘My friend, I don’t think you need me to tell you that you’re looking at a lifetime commitment even if you don’t marry this mystery woman you won’t tell me anything about.’
Ciro’s words rubbed up against every jagged edge inside Lazaro. Along with his conscience, which reminded him every day that Skye was still waiting at his hacienda and that for the past two weeks he’d leapt on every opportunity to delay his return. He did not like this need he had to see her again.
‘Why would I marry her? She’s completely wrong for me.’
‘Maybe because she’s the mother of your child?’ came Ciro’s dry response.
Lazaro looked at his friend. ‘Just because you’ve let a woman brainwash you—’
‘Do not speak of Lara that way. Not even in j
est.’ Ciro’s expression turned dark in an instant. Tension crackled in the air.
Lazaro’s insides clenched. This wasn’t him. He never provoked his friend. Lazaro had picked Ciro up off the floor—literally—after the woman he’d loved had betrayed him. But now they were back together, and Lazaro had been a witness at their wedding only recently.
He’d never seen such absorption and passion between two people. It had unnerved him as much as it had caught at something inside him. Something deeply shut away and hidden. He couldn’t imagine ever letting himself be that vulnerable in front of another person. Not to mention dozens of people at a wedding.
And that was another reason why he’d avoided going back to the hacienda. Skye touched on too many things inside him. Emotions he’d never explored before and had no intention of exploring now.
Ciro said, ‘Actually, I have some news.’
Lazaro looked at his friend, who said with a smile, ‘Lara’s pregnant. Three months.’