Bedded For The Spaniard's Pleasure
'Can I help— You!' Cairo's pleasant query broke off in a gasp, and she came to a startled halt in the driveway as she easily recognized the man stepping out of the car a short distance away.
No!
This couldn't be!
This man could not be here, of all places!
Cairo had been lazing beside the pool, sunbathing, when she'd seen the silver car slowly moving up the winding, narrow road with access only to this villa in the South of France. She had already been on her feet and pulling on a thigh-length black T-shirt over her bikini when she'd heard the car stop outside. Forcing down her irritation at this intrusion, she had hurried towards the driveway to tell the driver that they had obviously lost their way.
But nothing—nothing!—could have prepared her for the man who now stood beside the car, sunglasses pushed up into the dark silkiness of his hair, as he looked across the car's bonnet at her through narrowed lids.
If she was surprised to see him, then he looked no more pleased to see her, his mouth tightening grimly even as he lifted a hand to move the sunglasses back into place over those eyes of sky-blue.
'Cairo,' he greeted h ... read full excerpt from: Bedded for the Spaniard's Pleasure ebook
