The Twelve-Month Marriage Deal by Margaret Mayo Page B

different, if she had been a complete stranger, he would have looked at her once, twice, and then again. He would have made it his duty to find out who she was. He would not have been satisfied until he had pursued and bedded her.
    His heart thudded heavily against his ribcage at the very thought of her sharing his bed tonight and he intended making sure this time that nothing happened to stop them—not even Elena herself. He stepped out of the shadows and as he did so, as if she had sensed him, she looked his way.
    ‘You found the pool, I see.’ He kept his tone soft and unchallenging, feeling himself drowning in the wide golden orbs of her eyes. Had she always had such gorgeous eyes? Why had he never noticed before? He wanted them close to him; he wanted to look deeply into them, preferably in bed, with her arms and her legs wrapped around him.
    ‘You should have told me about it. It’s heaven in here.’ She turned on to her back and began kicking lazily away from him.
    If it wasn’t an invitation to join him then he didn’t know what was. Urgently stripping down to his shorts, he dived cleanly into the water, coming up underneathher so that she gave a tiny scream as he rolled her into his arms.
    ‘You swim like a mermaid, Señora Marquez,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘And you look just as enchanting.’ He dropped a light kiss onto her lips, pulling back again quickly before she could object.
    ‘And you, Señor Marquez, should take more care of your clothes.’
    He frowned and then followed the direction of her eyes. His trousers and shirt that he had thrown off so hastily were floating in the water a few feet away.
    ‘That, my beautiful wife, is because I couldn’t wait to join you.’ The sight of her half-naked body was driving him insane. ‘Have you ever been made love to beneath the water?’ The words were out before he could stop them. And he held his breath as he waited for Elena’s answer.
    She looked at him for many long seconds before laughing. ‘I would assume it’s a physical impossibility.’
    ‘Would you care to prove it?’ he challenged, keeping his voice light.
    ‘Maybe if ours was a real marriage then I would.’ There was a glint of mischief in her amazing liquid-gold eyes that made him draw in a swift and uneven breath. ‘But since it’s all make-believe I’ll decline the offer, thank you. Especially as I can see your gardener heading towards us.’
    Vidal cursed beneath his breath. Elena was right. Marcelo was marching determinedly their way. For once in his life Vidal wished that he lived alone—entirely alone. Then he could make love to the magnificent Elena all day long if he so wished.
    Maybe they should have gone away on honeymoon—except that only today he had received further reports on her parents’ bank and they were not good. Immediate action was necessary if a catastrophe was to be avoided.
    Elena did not know whether to be sad or sorry that Vidal’s gardener needed to speak to him. The more they were together, the more he turned her on, the more she felt that her body wouldn’t let her down a second time. She wasn’t in love with him or anything stupid like that, it was simply that he had the most amazingly toned body, and the most charismatic eyes she had ever seen.
    His eyes told her a lot, even though he might not know it, turning a whole different range of greys according to his mood. She hadn’t learned all of them yet, but she was getting there. They had already gone from tempered steel to erotic silver. One end of the spectrum to the other. One end of his mood swings to the other. It would be interesting to find out what happened in between.
    Vidal’s conversation with his gardener lasted so long that Elena grew tired and climbed out of the pool, striding decisively towards the changing rooms she had spotted earlier. She was conscious of the men’s conversation stopping, conscious too of Vidal’s eyes watching her—so she walked that little bit taller,