At the Spanish Duke's Command by Fiona Hood-Stewart Page B

he retorted firmly.
    Then, to Georgiana’s horror, the light turned green and Juan took a sharp right turn, in the opposite direction from the Avenida Castellana.
    â€œWhere are you going?” she muttered nervously.
    â€œYou’ll see.”
    â€œJuan, I demand to be taken home immediately.”
    â€œIn due course,” he said, ignoring her frustrated gesture.
    â€œI want to go back now,” she cried.
    â€œDo you?” Juan sent her a quick sidelong look. “Can you look me in the eye, querida , and swear you don’t want to be in my arms just as much as I want to be in yours?”
    Their eyes met, locked, and against her will Georgiana melted. How could she pretend that she wanted to leave when the mere presence of him next to her left her filled with throbbing desire?
    Without another word Juan drove on. Several minutes later they entered the chic suburb of La Moraleja, where they stopped in front of a large wrought-iron gate. Taking out an electronic remote control pad, Juan clicked it and the gates parted slowly.
    â€œWhere are we?” she asked, eyeing the well-tended flower-beds and hedges as the car moved slowly up the drive.
    â€œThis was my mother’s house. I still haven’t decided whether to sell it or keep it. I was thinking perhaps—” He stopped.
    â€œYou were thinking of keeping it for you and Leticia?” she asked sweetly. “For when you have a family? What a perfect setting. I can just imagine you surrounded by frolicking children. How fatherly. How sweet.” Fury ripped through her again. “What a pity that it will only be a part-time job,” she added scathingly. “And now that you’ve so kindly shown me your future residence, will you please take me home?” she said icily.
    Juan stopped the car abruptly. They still hadn’t reached the house, visible among the trees.
    â€œWill you stop this ridiculous ranting?” he said finally. “Don’t you understand that I have to marry Leticia? That I must fulfil certain duties? It has nothing to do with my feelings for you,” he added, reaching across and grabbing her hands, pulling her firmly towards him. “Ah, Georgiana, mi linda Georgiana.”
    Before she could react he brought his lips firmly down on hers, pulled her roughly into his arms and kissed her as he never had before, with a harsh, determined passion that left her breathless. Uncontrollable searing heat burst through her like a bullet, lodging low in her abdomen, and that same coiling spiral of desire mounted, rising like volcanic lava, ready to erupt at his touch.
    She felt his fingers seeking her breast.
    She mustn’t, couldn’t , let him do this.
    Yet even as her mind protested her body begged for his touch, for the delight that his fingers wrought, grazing her strained, aching nipples.
    She moaned, unable to pretend any longer, and gave way, revelling in his caresses, in his hands unbuttoning her jeans, seeking further. Soon she was writhing, head thrown back in wanton abandon as expertly he pleasured each part of her. Finally Georgiana let out a small cry and collapsed in his arms.
    â€œThis is wrong—so wrong,” she whispered, tears knotting her throat. “This can’t be right, Juan. You mustn’t do this to me. Not any more. It’s not fair on any of us—you, me, or Leticia.”
    â€œI know,” he murmured, stroking her hair, threading his fingers through the golden mass. “But I can’t help it.”
    She was right, of course. He knew that he would have to respect her wish, knew that putting an end to the relationship was the only way to proceed. But still he found it impossible to let her go. Even though he hadn’t assuaged his own hunger, just seeing her lying saturated and limp in his arms left him fulfilled.
    The realisation shocked him, and abruptly he straightened, pulling her clothes back into place. Glancing in the rear-view