But he could understand why Lola was already so defensive and irritable. Part of him felt the same. Having her back here, in this house where they’d once been lovers, gave him a sense of vertigo, like an earthquake beneath his feet. Wistful memories of their love affair still lingered in every room.
Looking slowly around, Rodrigo gave an involuntary shiver. There he’d made love to her against the wall. There they’d lazed Sunday mornings on the sofa. He looked out through the double-story windows. Closing his eyes, he felt the sun burning hot and bright against his face, without the gentle mercy of clouds.
And there, on that white sand beach, one moonlit night beside the bonfire as the Santa Ana winds blew, Lola had told him she loved him. For answer, Rodrigo had taken her in his arms and kissed her hungrily, as she’d clung to him as if her life depended on it. The explosive heat of that sensual night! He shivered at the memory. They’d always been scrupulously careful about protection, but that one time, they’d been carried away by passion. Which was another way of saying they lost their minds. It was almost certainly the night she’d conceived their baby.
Turning away, he went to the wet bar and poured himself a drink. A few minutes later, when Lola returned from the baby’s nursery, he saw her before she saw him. She’d long since taken off her coat, but she still wore the same black shirt, leggings and boots she’d been married in. He suddenly yearned to take those off, too. To feel the warmth of her naked skin.
A flash
of heat went through him.
He gulped the last of his Scotch, letting it burn his throat as he set down the glass with a bang. “You’re not sleeping in the nursery, Lola. I thought I made myself clear. You’re sleeping in the bedroom. With me.”
She whirled to face him, her beautiful face wild. “Forget it.”
Rodrigo took an unwilling step toward her.
“I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t forget.”
The memory of all the times he’d kissed her in this house, all the nights he’d made love to her, all their moments of laughter and lazy sensuality and joy burned through him. He had to clench his hands at his sides to keep himself from pulling her roughly into his arms.
“You forgot me long ago.” Lola looked at him in the warm pink and gold light of the late afternoon sun, her eyes bright. “I’m sure you’ve had lovers here by the score since you tossed me out.”
“Wrong,” he said.
He heard her intake of breath. “What?”
Coming forward, Rodrigo cupped her cheek.
“I’ve had no other woman here. None,” he whispered. Slowly, he ran his thumb along her tender bottom lip. “Not here, nor anywhere else. For the last year, I’ve hungered for you, Lola. Only for you.”
“I...” She breathed, trembling beneath his touch. “I can’t believe it...”
“All this time, I’ve wanted you.” Pulling her body against his own, he whispered, “And now you’re mine, I’m never going to let you go...”
His lips lowered to hers in a hard, passionate kiss. He held her body fast against his own, giving her no chance to resist. But she didn’t even try. With a soft sigh, she reached her arms up to twist around his shoulders, pulling him down against her with the same hunger.
And in that moment, the kiss that had started as a mark of possession began to explode in pure light.
* * *
Lola hadn’t realized it would be so hard to be back in this California beach house. The short months of their affair had been the happiest of her life.
Until her past had caught up with her. The most humiliating mistakes of her life. And when he’d discovered them, he’d tossed her aside as if she meant nothing.
Because she hadn’t. Rodrigo had never loved her. Not even a little.
But Lola had still been stupid enough to love him.
Returning to this house today, she’d felt memories burn through her like acid. As she’d tucked their baby into the crib of his lavish new nursery, Lola looked at the little sofa nearby and vowed to herself that she’d sleep there alone every night. But she hadn’t quite believed it, even then. Not when her traitorous body was yearning to be back in Rodrigo’s bed.
Now, as her husband kissed her, his lips seemed pure fire.
His powerful arms tightened around her in the sunlit great room of the beach house, with the wide view of the white sand and blue Pacific. His mouth was hot and rough against hers. And the thought of any path that didn’t end with them falling into bed was impossible.
So what? she thought suddenly. Sex didn’t have to mean anything. It didn’t mean love. It could be just a benefit of marriage, like filing jointly for taxes.
Lola closed her eyes in ecstasy as he pressed her against the wall, kissing slowly down her throat. She felt the heat of his lips against her skin. His hands gripped her wrists, as if to prevent her from running away.