Modern Romance Books September Books 5-8. Annie West

was going to say...that was incredible.’

      Happiness bloomed inside her. ‘I got the impression that you couldn’t wait to hop out of bed.’

      ‘I wanted to take you again and I knew I couldn’t in case you were...sore. Or just needed some time out. It was safer for me to have a shower and get my act together.’

      Sofia smiled shyly and touched his chest with her fingers, lightly circling his flat, brown nipple and enjoying the way his breathing thickened in response.

      He caught her hand and then absently stroked her fingers with his thumb, eyes pinned to her face.

      ‘I could commute,’ he murmured thoughtfully.

      ‘Meaning?’

      His voice was soft. ‘Meaning that I enjoyed that and I’d quite like to carry on enjoying it.’

      ‘That wasn’t part of the plan.’

      ‘Plans can change.’

      ‘You didn’t want complications.’

      ‘Does it have to be get complicated?’ He tilted his head to one side. ‘We both know what this situation is all about, and there’s a time line, which in all probability will be less than the allotted year. In the meantime...we’re married and all we’re doing is what all married people do.’ He looked at her, gaze serious. ‘We’re enjoying some hot sex before it all starts to unravel. The only difference is that we have the advantage of not being ambushed by disappointment when the inevitable happens.’

      Faced with this stark choice, Sofia knew that she either indulged a sexual curiosity she’d never known she possessed, and for the foreseeable future sacrifice her principles about saving herself for the right guy to come along, or she walked away. But when she thought about walking away she was gripped with an emptiness so intense that she wanted to howl.

      ‘You’re right.’ She decided on the spot and met that serious gaze with equal gravity. ‘We both know the score. What’s to get complicated?’

      * * *

      Sofia approached the door to the opulent sitting room in her father’s house with her usual trepidation.

      Old habits died hard, and even though it had been several weeks since the wedding, and even though she had seen him several times since then, she was still to shed her stiffness when she was around him.

      Rafael oiled the wheels by always being present, allowing her to watch and contribute when she wanted to from a safe distance, but this time there was no Rafael.

      ‘Running late,’ he had phoned to say just as she had been stepping out of the Mercedes that had delivered her to the house. ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can, but this meeting has overrun and I can’t walk out. I’m discovering all sorts of mess created by David’s damned stepson. Some through sheer incompetence, but some needs delving into because I’m getting a whiff of things not as they should be. No idea what exactly is being concealed but I intend to find out and take him to the cleaners.’

      What could she say? She knew the boundaries to what they had and she wasn’t going to overstep them. They had great sex. They came together in bed and were the perfect fit. It was a situation that wasn’t going anywhere and she knew that. Rafael didn’t have to repeat the mantra about theirs being a marriage of convenience, with a time limit as to its duration. That was a given, and she accepted it because what she got in return was mind-blowing.

      How could sex be so good?

      And out of bed...

      She was learning how to make her way around him, how to manage him. Never had she met someone so dominant, so hard-wired to get his own way. No wonder he hadn’t batted an eyelid when it had been a case of hunting her down in Argentina and checking her out. He adored his godfather and he had brought one hundred percent of his incredible focus to doing what he had been asked to do. That she might have been hurt had not really occurred to him. Collateral damage was just something that happened. He was complex, infuriating, yet wonderfully exhilarating all at the same time, and Sofia knew that she was getting more and more sucked into his powerful aura with each passing day.

      She didn’t like to think about time slipping past. The fact that he wasn’t standing here right now, in front of the imposing front door to her father’s exquisite Belgravia house, was a reminder of how much she had come to depend on the support he gave her without even realising that she was doing so.

      Not just support when it came to interacting with her father but support with the accountancy course she had been determined to pursue, support with the landscaping of the garden to the cottage they visited on the weekends, dismissing what he didn’t like with a casual wave of his hand, and reminding her of how little interest he had in anything outdoors and green, yet glancing at the pictures she showed him and expressing opinions with his typical self-assurance. There were times when he slung his arm over her shoulders and leant into her to say something, and she could almost forget that what they had wasn’t actually real.

      She rang the doorbell and, as soon as her father greeted her, she knew that he was well aware that his godson wasn’t going to be there.

      ‘Nice to have you to myself!’ David beamed, ignoring her tight, apprehensive expression and spinning round to lead the way into the sitting room, where tea was always taken. A part of her unexpectedly softened because his tenacity when it came to building a bond with her was slowly cutting through her defences.

      Over the weeks, he had gained weight and was fond of dismissing the dietary guidelines strictly laid down by the nurse ‘companion’ he had hired to cook for him and oversee all his physical requirements, including distributing his tablets, which he had no trouble forgetting to take.

      He was talking about nothing in particular, asking her about what she had been up to, and she found herself chatting back.

      ‘For a fake marriage,’ he mused, depositing himself on one of the deep chairs, ‘You seem to have some pretty real headaches. Rafael’s selfish, my dear. It’s a learned skill.’

      Sofia scowled and wondered how she’d managed to blather on so much about him that David had actually picked up on it. She opened her mouth to protest and found herself asking with a nonchalant toss of her head, ‘What do you mean that it’s a learned skill? How can someone learn to be selfish? Not that I’m concerned one way or the other.’

      Their eyes met, and she blushed.

      ‘He had to learn how to be a man when he was just a boy,’ David mused thoughtfully. ‘By which I mean that he had to learn how to suffer disappointment and rise above it.’

      ‘Because his parents weren’t around?’ What was wrong with a little curiosity?

      ‘Because they were very fond of making promises about visiting and then failing to deliver on the day because something better had come up. By the time Rafael was ten, he’d learned that waiting by the window of his dorm was pretty much a waste of time. So you see, my dear, independence was thrust upon him and selfishness became a way of life, because if you didn’t think about anyone else you couldn’t be hurt.’

      Sofia’s eyes pricked. This was the first real conversation she had had with her father, because Rafael wasn’t around, and a warmth spread through her that fought through her stubborn pride. She blinked, cleared her throat and changed the subject but her head was full of images of a disappointed child wondering why his parents hadn’t shown up for the Nativity play or Sports Day or whatever else kids at posh boarding schools did with their free time.

      ‘The old bag has gone the extra mile and made some tasty little treats for us.’ He was waving his hand at the highly polished sideboard which was laden with exquisite titbits—delicate sandwiches, blinis and an assortment of miniature cakes.

      ‘I say made. She unbent enough to make the sandwiches, and those funny little things there, but told me that if I wanted more I’d have to hire someone else. The cheek! Good job I’m