Mistress to the Mediterranean Male. Кэрол Мортимер

say it was something else!

      Her skin had felt wonderful to the touch last night as he had carefully applied the soothing lotion to her shoulders and the curve of her spine, and he was experienced enough to know that Brynne had enjoyed the caress of his hands. But if she feared he would suggest repeating the process then she was mistaken.

      He had paid for his own unsatisfied arousal with a sleepless night, and did not intend repeating the experience!

      ‘I suggest you ask Maria to put some after-sun on your back before you go outside,’ he snapped dismissively, throwing his napkin down on the table to stand up. ‘I am not sure what time I will get back, so do not—’

      ‘Oh, please don’t hurry back on our account,’ Brynne assured him derisively, relieved to know that he would probably be out most of the day. ‘Michael and I are quite used to entertaining ourselves.’

      Alejandro looked down at her coldly before turning on his heel and striding from the room.

      Brynne heaved a deep sigh of relief as she relaxed the tension from her shoulders. Painful shoulders, as it happened, with the skin on her back bright red this morning and slightly itchy. No doubt it would start to peel in a couple of days, and then instead of having the appearance of a lobster she would look like a snake shedding its skin. Very attractive!

      Although if Alejandro was looking for attractive, he didn’t have to look any further than Antonia Roig!

      A fact Brynne was made very aware of later that morning when a red sports car roared down the driveway with Antonia sitting behind the wheel as she parked the car beside the villa with an assurance that spoke of familiarity.

      Brynne’s heart sank as she watched the other woman run her hands through her tumbled dark curls and replenish the red gloss to her lips before sliding out from behind the wheel, the white sundress she wore suiting her smoothly olive complexion and emphasizing the voluptuous curves of her body.

      In contrast, Brynne felt at a complete disadvantage, having pulled on a loose white shirt over her bikini after taking a dip with Michael in the pool, her wet hair now slicked back from a face completely bare of make-up.

      She stood up as Antonia walked over gracefully on white, high-heeled, designer mules. ‘I’m afraid Alejandro isn’t here at the moment, Miss Roig,’ she began politely.

      The other woman gave a gracious inclination of her head. ‘He is in Palma today.’

      If Alejandro had already told Antonia that, then what was she doing here …?

      ‘Can I offer you some refreshment?’ Brynne indicated the jug of fresh orange juice Maria had brought out minutes ago for her and Michael to enjoy, not particularly wanting the other woman to stay any longer than she had to, but at the same time realizing Antonia had other ideas.

      ‘That would be acceptable.’ Antonia nodded before sitting down on the lounger next to Brynne’s, her eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses as she glanced over to where Michael was throwing euro coins to the bottom of the pool before diving down to collect them. ‘He is so like Alejandro, is he not.’ It was a statement rather than a question.

      ‘Yes.’ What else could Brynne say? The likeness between father and son was indisputable.

      ‘Thank you,’ Antonia said as she accepted the glass of juice before placing it down on the table untouched, her long nails still tipped in the red that matched her lipgloss. ‘Miguel is the son of your sister …?’ she prompted without so much as a polite preliminary.

      Brynne’s wariness grew at this unexpected visit by the other woman. ‘My sister-in-law, actually,’ she said.

      ‘Your sister-in-law …?’

      Brynne nodded. ‘It’s a little complicated, but, yes, Joanna was my sister-in-law.’

      Anotnia’s pouting red lips tightened slightly. ‘Alejandro is very anxious that Miguel should … adapt … to his new way of life as quickly as possible,’ she declared, obviously deciding not to pursue the subject of Brynne’s specific relationship to Michael.

      Brynne was starting to like this conversation less and less!

      ‘Yes,’ she answered noncommittally.

      Antonia gave a shrug of her smoothly bare shoulders. ‘As such it would probably be better for Miguel if he were to spend more time with—people of his own kind.’

      Meaning what, precisely? Brynne wondered guardedly. Did Antonia mean the people of Majorca and Spain? Or did she mean affluently rich people like her and her father, and Alejandro himself, of course? Something Brynne obviously wasn’t!

      ‘Alejandro hasn’t said that,’ she replied truthfully. He had made it clear he didn’t want her here, but not for that reason.

      ‘Alejandro is very much the caballero, you know,’ Antonia told her with an indulgent smile. ‘Always the gentleman,’ she explained for Brynne’s benefit.

      Brynne knew what a ‘caballero’ was—she just didn’t particularly associate Alejandro with one!

      Although perhaps that was being a little unfair. Alejandro was always aware of the social niceties expected of him, was unfailingly polite to his employees, receiving their loyalty, and possibly their affection, in return. It was only with Brynne that he seemed to have trouble maintaining that politeness!

      And she certainly didn’t appreciate this woman’s implication that Brynne had to be aware she wasn’t wanted here. Or the fact that Alejandro obviously had to have discussed that subject with Antonia for the other woman to know that!

      ‘I’m sure that if Alejandro wishes to … change our arrangement … he will tell me so,’ she told Antonia stiffly, knowing that Alejandro had told her from the start that he didn’t want her here, but that she had chosen to ignore it. Obviously by talking to Antonia on the subject he had decided to bring in reinforcements!

      ‘That is a little … difficult … in the circumstances, is it not?’ the other woman pointed out. ‘Besides, it is so much more … civilized … for the women to talk of these things, yes?’ she added sweetly.

      Brynne’s dislike of this beautiful but venomous woman was growing by the moment. As was her anger towards Alejandro for having discussed this situation with the woman who appeared to be his mistress even if he didn’t intend her to be his wife.

      ‘I’m sorry, Miss Roig. I appreciate that you and Alejandro are—friends,’ she bit out tensely as she stood up, ‘but I really have no intention of discussing something so—so personal, with someone I hardly know.’ She glared down at the other woman pointedly as she willed her to leave.

      Antonia stood up slowly, completely unruffled as she smoothed the white sundress down over shapely legs. ‘I was merely trying to be—kind, Miss Sullivan,’ she soothed huskily, smiling slightly. ‘As I said earlier, Alejandro is too much the gentleman to be quite so … frank … with you.’

      Brynne gave a scornful smile. ‘That hasn’t been my experience so far!’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind? Michael and I are going for a walk this morning.’

      The other woman gave her a considering look. ‘You must be careful of too much sun, Miss Sullivan,’ she advised lightly. ‘A golden tan is acceptable, but with your fair colouring you are sure to burn.’

      Exactly when had Alejandro spoken to this woman about her? After he had left her bedroom last night? Or had it been first thing this morning?

      Well, if he thought telling his girlfriend to come and have a little ‘woman to woman’ chat with her was going to persuade Brynne into leaving here, then he was going to be sadly disappointed.

      It was more likely to have the opposite effect!

      CHAPTER EIGHT

      ‘HOW dare you ask that—that—woman to come here and tell me you