Mistress to the Mediterranean Male. Кэрол Мортимер

snapped, resentful that this man, a man who made her pulse race in spite of herself, should witness the grief she was no longer able to contain.

      His chin firmed squarely. ‘I have no idea,’ he said, shaking his head.

      ‘No.’ She straightened, her moment of weakness over as if she had been dowsed in icy-cold water. ‘You wouldn’t,’ she scorned. ‘What did you come back for?’ she prompted quickly, wiping all trace of tears from her cheeks as she stood up to face him.

      She had courage, this young woman, Alejandro acknowledged even as he felt discomforted by her crying.

      She was very young, of course, ten years younger than his own thirty-five years, and in challenging him she had not chosen her fight wisely; once Alejandro was sure of Miguel’s paternity, there had never been any doubt that he would claim the boy as his own.

      Nevertheless, he was not completely unmoved by her tears, or the fact that her sadness gave her an air of fragile beauty, with her eyes now almost navy in colour against the pallor of her cheeks. Her red hair was lifted and secured off the long, creamy expanse of her neck to give her an air of vulnerability that had been evident in none of their previous encounters.

      His mouth firmed. ‘You are upset.’ He stated the obvious. ‘You perhaps wish for me to arrange for your immediate return to England?’

      Her chin rose defiantly. ‘You would like that, wouldn’t you?’

      His nostrils flared impatiently. ‘I would like to put an end to these—disagreements, yes.’

      ‘I’ll just bet you would!’ She gave a humourless laugh. ‘No can do, sorry,’ she added derisively. ‘I intend staying on here for the duration!’

      ‘Dios mío!’ Alejandro bit out his frustration with her stubbornness, and his hands clenched at his sides. ‘Do not try me too far, Brynne,’ he warned harshly. ‘I make a much better friend than I do an enemy!’

      ‘Friend’? The word echoed incredulously in Brynne’s head while she acknowledged that he had used her given name for the first time in their acquaintance. That familiarity aside, there was no way she and this man could ever be friends!

      None of her male friends had ever set her senses singing in the way just being in this man’s company did.

      ‘I think you’ll find, Alejandro, that so do I,’ she came back smoothly, her blue eyes dark with challenge as she deliberately made use of his own first name in return.

      A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw. ‘You are here on sufferance only—’

      ‘I don’t appear to be the one who’s suffering, Alejandro,’ she taunted mockingly.

      His grey eyes narrowed icily as he drew himself up to his full six feet three inches in height. ‘Miguel has expressed a wish to swim in the pool. Perhaps you will be so good as to give me his bathing things?’

      Michael …

      Her anger left her as suddenly as it had erupted as she thought of the only reason she was here. And much as she enjoyed baiting Alejandro Santiago, that wasn’t it!

      ‘Of course,’ she muttered, moving to unzip the case that contained the clothes she had packed so lovingly late last night when she and Michael had returned from visiting her parents. Several other boxes containing Michael’s toys had been put aboard the jet earlier this morning, too, waiting to eventually be forwarded to Alejandro’s home in mainland Spain.

      In fact, everything that Michael possessed had been brought aboard that plane earlier today …

      ‘Here,’ she said as she held out Michael’s brightly coloured swimming trunks, tears once again blurring her vision, although she was determined she wouldn’t cry in front of Alejandro again. The man obviously only saw it as a weakness he could take advantage of if his offer to have her flown home immediately was anything to go by!

      Was she going to cry again? Alejandro wondered, thinking how he never had known how to deal with a woman’s tears, not even Francesca’s during their brief but wholly unhappy marriage. With Brynne Sullivan he definitely found her anger the easier emotion to respond to.

      His impatient gaze remained on Brynne’s face as he reached out to take the swimming trunks, slightly missing his objective as his hand brushed lightly against hers.

      And instantly received the equivalent of an electric shock up into his fingers and along the length of his arm!

      He snatched the swimming trunks before moving his hand back abruptly, his lids half-lowered over his steel-grey eyes as he looked down his nose at her.

      He found this woman intensely infuriating.

      Irritating.

      A nuisance he longed to be rid of.

      And yet for that one split second he knew that he had been totally aware of her too, of the pale delicacy of her skin, of the blood flowing so smoothly beneath its surface, of the heat and inner throb of her very being, so much so that he could almost feel that blood pulsing through her veins.

      Idiot!

      He was hot, he was thirsty, and not a little tired of the verbal fencing that took place every time he was anywhere near this woman.

      He stepped back. ‘I will sit by the pool with Miguel until you come down to join him,’ he said dismissively.

      Brynne looked up at Alejandro from beneath her dark lashes. What had happened just now? Some sort of electric shock to add to her increasing awareness of him. It had been a moment, a very brief moment, when everything had seemed clearer, sharper, when it had almost felt as if she could feel and hear the beat of Alejandro’s heart.

      Which was pretty ridiculous when the man didn’t have a heart!

      If he did then he wouldn’t continue to be so unreasonable where Michael was concerned, and would be as eager as she was to make all of this as painless as possible for his six-year-old son.

      Besides, if he did have a heart, it would make her unwanted response to him all the more dangerous!

      ‘I assume my joining you and Michael by the pool will no doubt free you to disappear on some important business or other?’ she questioned.

      The thinning of his sculpted lips showed his impatience. ‘You already know I have business interests here,’ he bit out curtly.

      ‘Don’t let us keep you from them, then,’ Brynne taunted.

      His eyes narrowed to silver slithers. ‘You are a guest in my home, Brynne, and as such you will be treated with respect and courtesy. But as I warned you once before, do not push me too far, or you may not like the consequences!’

      She probably wouldn’t, Brynne acknowledged ruefully, having no doubts that Alejandro could make life a lot more uncomfortable for her than she could for him if he chose to do so. She was sure the slightly cruel curl she occasionally saw to his lips could very easily be put into action.

      Except she had no intention of being in the least cowed by this man. ‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ she drawled. ‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind, I would like to go through to my bedroom and unpack a few of my own things before coming down to the pool …’ she dismissed.

      A dismissal he definitely didn’t like, by the look of his glittering eyes and the tensing of his shoulders as he strode forcefully from the room.

      She was infuriated by the effect Alejandro Santiago had on her, and never felt in the least relaxed in his company. In fact, her skin seemed to prickle every time she was anywhere near him, almost as if she had been stung by nettles or lots of little insects.

      She was also filled, at every opportunity, with a burning desire to shake him out of that cold arrogance with which he seemed to cloak himself.

      Unless it wasn’t a cloak …

      But surely it had to be? Brynne simply couldn’t see fun-loving