White Witch by Elizabeth Ashton Read Free Book Online Page B

was irritated by his exaggerated speech. ‘It’s only about Peter. Is he to go on living here?’
    ‘Why not? Are you not comfortable? Just relax and enjoy yourself while he becomes used to us all.’
    ‘Late dinner in the evening is not suitable for a young child.’
    ‘Not according to English ideas.’ Was there a faint sneer in his voice? In every nerve she was conscious of his tall figure looming over her. ‘What arrangement would you suggest?’
    ‘I don’t want to upset the staff...’
    ‘They are here to serve you. I assume a light supper served in one of the lounges would meet the case, then you can have your own meal later on in peace.’
    Involuntarily she murmured, ‘Alone.’
    ‘Whose company would you like?’ He moved a little nearer. ‘Mine?’
    ‘Oh, I expect I’ll soon make some friends,’ she said quickly, edging away from him. If only he wasn’t so disturbing!
    ‘You would find it distasteful?’
    ‘Of course I didn’t mean that,’ she said crossly. ‘But you’re the big noise around here and it would make me conspicuous.’
    He laughed, a low, sexy sound that stirred her blood.
    ‘You are very discreet, Laurel, but you could join me in my suite.’
    ‘That would be very indiscreet.’
    ‘But very enjoyable.’ He began to stroke her arm from which the full sleeve had fallen back, and his touch set her blood on fire. Someone in the bar-lounge was playing a guitar, and a little breeze moaned in the palm trees below them. Eroticism breathed in the scented air, and Laurel flung back her head, striving to free herself from its spell. It came in contact with his shoulder and he buried his face in the soft waves of her hair, while his arm crept round her waist.
    ‘You are very sweet, Laurel.’ His voice came muffled.
    Making a supreme effort, she wrenched herself away from him.
    ‘Are you trying to seduce me?’ she asked desperately. ‘In the circumstances isn’t that in rather bad taste?’
    Again he laughed softly. ‘Are you seduceable?’
    ‘No,’ she cried vehemently. ‘Oh, please, Luis, this isn’t what I’m here for.’
    He drew back and said in a completely changed voice, ‘I apologise. I see I have misjudged you. The little episode this afternoon misled me.’
    When she had responded to his kisses; she blushed in the darkness at the recollection. ‘I ... I don’t know what came over me. I must have been crazy.’
    ‘Delightful craziness.’ She sensed he was smiling. ‘But dangerous if you do not want to follow it through. I came to ask you to come up to my rooms.’ She stiffened. ‘I do all my business there, and I want more information about Peter.’
    ‘Can’t we talk here?’
    ‘It is becoming cold. I have no evil intentions towards you, Laurel, you can trust me now that I know where I stand. I do not make the same mistake twice.’
    This speech which should have been reassuring, Laurel found singularly unsatisfactory, but what did she want from him? He had evidently believed she was available, and finding she was not, had withdrawn. The wild rapture she had felt in his arms had not been shared, his emotion being much more commonplace, and he had put the wrong interpretation upon her response. Now she had put him right, he had become the stately Spanish Don again and she need have no qualms. Feeling chagrined, she said brightly:
    ‘I’m ready, if you’ll show me the way.’
    Luis’ suite, bedroom, sitting room and bathroom on the second floor, was plainly but expensively furnished. There was a large desk in one corner of the sitting room, evidence that he did do his business there, but before the window, which opened on to the balcony, there were tapestry-covered chairs, a small settee, and a coffee table. There was no reja to impede the view, which was over the swimming pool to rising ground opposite which culminated in a rocky prominence, once part of a castle’s fortifications, which now housed a shrine.
    Luis settled Laurel on the couch with a