Honor-Bound Groom Read Free Page B

and forced herself to draw away from Alex’s embrace. The instant she did so, she almost sobbed. The loss of his warmth, his touch, was indescribable. Loren fought free of the sensual fog that infused her mind as hermother swept into the sitting room, the staccato tap of her swift footfall fading into silence as she stepped onto the heirloom Aubusson carpet.
    â€œLoren! Whose is that helicopter out on the pad? Oh!” she said, displeasure twisting her patrician features. “It’s you.”
    It was hardly the kind of welcome Naomi Simpson generally prided herself on, Loren noted with a trace of acerbity. As her mother’s gaze darted between her and Alex, Loren fought not to smooth her hair and clothing, drawing instead on every ounce of her mother’s training to appear aloof and in control—at least as far as her hammering heartbeat rendered her capable.
    Alex remained close at her side, one arm now casually slung about her waist, his fingers gently stroking the top of her hip through her red merino wool sweater. Tiny sizzling tendrils of electricity feathered along her skin at his lazy touch and she found it hard to focus.
    Her mother had no such difficulty.
    â€œLoren? Would you care to explain?”
    There was no entreaty in Naomi’s words. Even phrased as a question she demanded answers and, if the frozen look of fury on her face was any indicator, she wanted those answers right now.
    â€œMother, you remember Alex del Castillo, don’t you?”
    â€œI do. I can’t say I ever expected to see you here. I’d hoped we were completely shot of Isla Sagrado the day we left.”
    With typical Gallic charm Alex nodded toward Naomi. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Madame Dubois.”
    â€œI wish I could say the same. And, just for the record,I go by Simpson now,” Naomi answered. “Why are you here?”
    â€œMother!” Loren protested.
    â€œDon’t worry, Loren,” Alex murmured into her ear. “I will deal with your mother.”
    The warmth of his breath against the shell of her ear sent a tiny tremor down her spine. He exaggerated the two syllables of her name, emphasizing the last to give it an exotic resonance totally at odds with her everyday existence here on the station.
    â€œNobody needs to deal with anyone,” she replied. She cast a stern look at Naomi. “Mother, you are forgetting your manners. That is not the way we treat guests here at the Simpson Station.”
    â€œGuests are one thing. Ghosts from the past are quite another.”
    Naomi threw herself into the nearest chair and glared at Alex.
    â€œI’m sorry, Alex, she’s not normally so rude,” Loren apologized. “Perhaps you should go.”
    â€œI think not. There are matters that need to be discussed,” Alex answered, his attention firmly on Naomi’s bristling presence.
    He guided Loren to one of the richly upholstered sofas before settling his long frame at her side. A shiver of awareness rippled through her as his presence imprinted along her body.
    â€œI believe you know why I’m here. It is time for Loren and me to fulfill our fathers’ promise to one another.”
    Naomi’s snort was at total odds with her elegant appearance.
    â€œPromise? More like the ramblings of two crazy men who should have known better. No one in the developed world would sanction such an archaic suggestion.”
    â€œArchaic or not, I feel bound to honor my father’s wish. Much as I imagine Loren does, also.”
    Loren felt that shiver again as Alex responded to her mother’s derision. Naomi wasn’t the kind of woman who liked to be contradicted. She ruled the station with an iron fist and a razor-sharp mind and was both respected and feared by her staff. Despite her designer chic wardrobe and her petite frame she was every bit as capable as any one of the staff here. A fact she had proven over and over again. But she