The Spaniard's Love-Child by Kim Lawrence

spasm.
    Time for a reality check—Raul had kissed her because she had dared to question his ability and he’d wanted to give her marks out of ten. He was like a male animal whose supremacy had been challenged. He was callous and shallow and she hated him.
    The only problem was that her hate morphed into something far warmer when he touched her.
    The kiss that had blown her mind had meant less than nothing to him. And that smouldering look was as much a reflex as a sneeze. Nell had learnt a long time ago that imagining women undressed was something your average male had about as much control over as sneezing. They were not wildly discriminating, you didn’t have to be fantastically sexy, which made her overreacting to a look in this way plain daft.
    â€˜I have a microwave lasagne with my name on it.’
    To Nell’s intense relief her gentle prod brought his eyes back to her face.
    â€˜I have come to run an idea by you.’
    She was so worried by her own heightened colour, it didn’t occur to Nell that his own darker skin tones were significantly deeper than normal. ‘Go ahead, then.’
    â€˜Would you agree that Alex and Katerina like you, they trust you…?’
    Wondering where this was leading, Nell nodded warily. ‘I think they do.’
    â€˜And you are fond of them?’
    â€˜Is that a trick question?’ She closed her eyes and hissed in exasperation, ‘Just cut to the chase.’
    â€˜As you wish.’ He gave one of his inimical shrugs. ‘I have a business proposition to put to you.’
    â€˜Oh?’
    â€˜I have heavy work commitments. My mother is not a young woman, her eyesight is failing and she is making herself ill trying to look after her grandchildren.’
    â€˜There must be some way to make her slow down.’
    â€˜There is. You move into our London house to ease the children through the transition they must make.’

CHAPTER SEVEN
    â€˜M E , MOVE into your house!’ Nell exclaimed, her eyes widening in horror.
    A significant proportion of her horror could be accounted for by the first, knee-jerk thought that popped into her head, namely— What are the chances I will bump into him wearing a bath towel or something similar?
    Not only did this illustrate her growing unhealthy obsession with his body, it wasn’t even realistic. The Carrerases almost certainly lived in the sort of mansion where you could go two days without seeing another human being.
    Face hot with shame, she grunted. ‘You must be joking.’
    â€˜No, I am reliably informed I have no sense of humour,’ he explained, deadpan.
    This drew a reluctant grin from Nell. ‘Katerina?’
    Raul nodded.
    Nell gave a grimace of wry sympathy—about time she started putting the children’s needs ahead of her own base instincts. Not that her concern for them was going to make her do anything as stupid as moving into the Carreras mansion.
    â€˜I can see things are hard for you at the moment, but they’ll get better,’ she promised him.
    â€˜I’m disappointed,’ he admitted with an air of candour. ‘I didn’t think you were the sort of person whose caring stopped at the point where it inconvenienced you.’
    Her eyes narrowed. ‘You can cut out the moral blackmail right now.’
    â€˜You must admit I have a point. They do not need ananny, they need a friend, a familiar face in a strange place. You would not be there in an official capacity. You would simply be our guest.’
    â€˜I’m not going to admit anything, and for the record I’m not bothered about being inconvenienced, I’m bothered about…’
    â€˜Yes?’ he prompted.
    Her eyes slid from his. ‘It’s just a daft idea.’
    â€˜I’m not asking you to marry me.’
    â€˜Pity, they say laughter is good for you. On the other hand it’s probably just as well,’ she interrupted loudly. ‘I doubt