Surrender to Her Spanish Husband Read Online Free PDF

barely knew how to handle it. It wasn’t just the natural healthy longing of a sexually aroused male at the sight of an attractive woman either. It was the totally contradictory yearning for an impossible dream that he usually dismissed as viciously as swatting an annoying fly—a dream that he had had within his grasp but had incredibly let go. But sometimes—like now—it broke through his insatiable need for success and acceptance by the world and almost throttled those desires by the throat. Yet its tantalising promise could never be for him. He was a pragmatist, a realist…a man a million miles away from ever putting his faith in such an impossibly unattainable idea. No doubt his lovely ex-wife would back him up on that.
    Wearing a full-length cream dressing gown, its lapels patterned with tiny sprigged red roses, little Jenny Wren radiated the kind of innocence and purity that made Rodrigo briefly mourn for the hopefulness and joy of his early youth. Before he had discovered that in his ardent pursuit of success the world would extract every ounce of that hopefulness and joy and pay him back with constant growing tension and a vague unease that all was not right.
    Rubbing his hand over his chest in a bid to ease the sudden clutch of discomfort that had collected there, he appreciatively registered that Jenny’s golden hair had been left to dry naturally, in almost too tempting to touch blonde ringlets. Finding himself in a trance, he paused in the doorway just to gaze at her…enjoying the stirring sight she made as if paying homage to an exquisite work of art in a gallery.
    ‘I’m making hot chocolate. Is that okay?’
    ‘It is more than just okay. I could not think of a more perfect ending to a night like this.’
    Liar , his silent inner voice mocked as he easily thought of a far more exciting and alluring alternative. But, as if to illustrate his comment, a violent blast of furious thunder overhead made the whole house feel as though the very walls were about to disintegrate into a pile of rubble.
    ‘Sit down. I’ll bring it over to you when it’s ready.’
    ‘I get the feeling that there’s no one around tonight but us. Am I right in thinking I’m the only guest staying here?’
    ‘You are. Like I said…’ she whipped up the milk in the pan with a tiny whisk as if she was no stranger to the task ‘…we’re pretty quiet at the moment. The summer holidays are long over, and it probably won’t get busy again until nearly Christmas.’
    ‘And will you still be here then, helping Lily out?’
    Jenny’s slender shoulders visibly stilled. ‘No. I won’t. I told you…she’s due back in a couple of weeks and I’ll be returning to London.’
    ‘To the house you grew up in as a child.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Yet you seem more at home here than anywhere I’ve seen you before.’
    ‘What makes you say that?’
    ‘Because this rural environment suits you…In fact, it wouldn’t require a great stretch of the imagination to see you as a country girl, Jenny. Yes, I can visualise you sitting in your cosy little stone cottage each evening as the sun goes down, the tantalising smell of the day’s fruitful baking lingering in the air.’
    ‘And in this tantalising little scenario am I on my own?’ The catch in her voice had Rodrigo frowning deeply.
    ‘I don’t know.’ He shrugged. ‘You tell me .’ Even though his voice was calm, it felt as if an icy boulder had taken up residence inside his belly.
    ‘You know I’ve always wanted a family.’
    ‘Yes.’ He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. ‘I do know that.’
    ‘But you never wanted children, did you?’
    ‘No. I didn’t.’
    ‘Then it was just as well you decided our marriage wouldn’t work, wasn’t it?’
    Lifting the pan off the stove, Jenny poured the steaming milk into two waiting ceramic mugs, then gave the contents a brief stir. Bringing their drinks to the table, where Rodrigo sat silently and broodingly waiting, she lowered