At the Spaniard's Pleasure (10 page)

When he finally lifted his head he saw her eyes open and the flicker of disappointment in their depths she was unable to hide. His smile was a battle between contrition and triumph. He was still in control. ‘Be honest, Liza, you know the sexual chemistry between us is too powerful to ignore,' he prompted with total conviction.

The chemistry she could not deny, and did not try to. ‘But why did you want me to speak to your mother in the first place?' she asked shakily, feeling her way through a minefield of conflicting emotions. He implied it was because he wanted her… She should be flattered…but something still niggled. He was an experienced man, and her own innate honesty forced her to admit she would have gone to bed with him anywhere, and he had to know that. ‘We could have stayed in Lanzarote,' with no family and friends to bother them, she thought, but didn't say it.

Nick slipped a hand around the nape of her neck; as she felt his fingers lacing through her hair and trying to ignore the racing of her pulse and the heat curling through her at his closeness, she repeated, ‘Why?'

‘Simple expedience, Liza.' His dark gaze held hers with a narrow-eyed intensity that tore at her fragile control. ‘I had to return to Spain, because my mother and I are the hosts of this party tonight.'

‘Oh, yes,' Liza murmured. She had forgotten that and felt a fool.

‘Yes, Liza.' And he tilted her head towards his. ‘And, having just found you, I could not bear to let you go.'

Fantastic as it sounded, Liza wanted to believe him, she wanted Nick to feel just a fraction of what she felt for him, and she told herself his explanation was reasonable. But, held close to his hard body with one arm around her waist and with his other hand in her hair, she had a suspicion he could have told her black was white and she would have believed him. The raw sexuality he exuded was an almost tangible force that enveloped her practically to the exclusion of everything else. But not quite…

‘You could have just asked me.' Liza stated the obvious, while unable to restrain a thrill of pleasure that a man like Nick might actually want her so desperately.

‘And you would have agreed to take off to another country with me for a party. Just like that?' Nick stated with a sardonic lift of one black brow. ‘Don't forget I remember you of old, Liza, and did not fancy getting my face slapped for my cheek.'

‘No, probably not,' she conceded.

‘So I am forgiven, and that is our first fight over and forgotten and we can get back to more satisfying pursuits,' he declared huskily.

No asking forgiveness, just declaring it—how like Nick, she thought dazedly as he asserted his masculine power in a wordless possessive look that ripped through the last of her defences. ‘You're impossible,' Liza said, her lips part
ing in a wry smile. ‘Your arrogant conceit never ceases to amaze me.' But the soft glow in her expression took the sting from her words.

His dark head bent and his hand in her hair tightened, tilting her face up to his, and he brought his mouth gently down on hers. ‘Ah, but admit it, Liza. You would not have me any other way.' He mouthed the words against her lips and then stopped her outraged gasp by the seductive invasion of his tongue.

Later she might regret it, but with pulses pounding, and the familiar ache of desire coursing through her body, her hands stroked up and over his broad shoulders, and quite simply clung…

Nick's mouth lifted from hers, his deep brown eyes darkening with passion. ‘I would continue,' he murmured throatily, ‘but I think I have embarrassed you enough for one day carrying you up here,' he said ruefully, studying her beautiful, flushed face. ‘Being late for Mamma's party would really feed the gossip mill.'

‘You're right.' Liza sighed her agreement.

‘I always am,' Nick stated outrageously, and he kissed her again. The passion of his kiss was so overwhelming that she could not immediately pull herself together when he raised his head and stepped back. ‘And, before you ask, the party is formal, and I will be back here to escort you at seven.'

‘I'll have to find something to wear,' she blurted, grateful for something normal to focus on when Nick made pea soup of her usually astute deductive powers.

‘You do that.' And, swooping down, he brushed her mouth with his again. ‘But I much prefer you naked.' And left.

S
TANDING
under the soothing spray of the shower, Liza tried to make some sense of the past two days. She had woken up in her hotel yesterday morning expecting to attend a seminar for the next two weeks with her boss. Now she was in Spain, having spent a crazy, fantasy few hours of passion with Nick Menendez, and if she was not very careful she was in danger of falling in love with him all over again.

The thought stopped her cold. No, she could not love him…must not, but she had a sinking feeling it might already be too late. What on earth had possessed her to believe she could have a holiday romance and walk away unscathed from a man like Nick? She supposed it was a compliment that he wanted her so badly and, knowing he had to return to Spain, he had got his mother to invite her. But how long would he desire her, and could she survive the ending of what was only a lustful affair to Nick?

Usually she was the sanest, most conservative of women. So what had happened to her? Nick had happened to her…

Turning off the shower, she stepped out and, wrapping a bath sheet around her body, she padded into the bedroom. Ten minutes later, dried and wearing only white lace briefs, she sat in front of the dressing-table mirror drying her hair, a dreamy smile playing around her lips as she reran in her mind the fantastic coincidence of meeting Nick again. She remembered every moment, every touch, every word…

When suddenly she realised just what had been nagging at the back of her mind since last night. When she had met Nick yesterday morning he had taken a great deal of interest in her job. She had told him she worked for Stubbs and
Company and she was in Lanzarote with her boss for a conference and all about her unexpected break. But she was sure she'd never mentioned Henry Brown by name.

Yet last night over dinner when Nick had been teasing her about being a lap dancer and suggested she might have a high-powered lover, she had responded that that was classified information.

But then Nick had said he had heard her boss
Henry Brown
was nowhere near as discerning about his love life and he knew Brown was married.

Thinking about it now, she recalled a brief moment when something had struck her as odd, but she had been so busy trying to act the sophisticate and hold up her side of the conversation she had banished it to the back of her mind. But the more she thought about it, she was absolutely certain she had not mentioned Brown by name earlier in the day. Plus,
how
had Nick known she was sharing a suite with her boss? For a man who ran a huge international corporation it was odd Nick seemed to know an awful lot about a small company like Stubbs and Company, and had even asked more. As her imagination took flight, industrial espionage sprang to mind…

Later still, wearing the dress she had packed originally to wear at the gala to end the seminar, she studied her finished image in the long mirror. With her long hair swept back into a French pleat, ending in a loose tumble of hair on the top of her head, and the careful application of eye-shadow and mascara and her lips outlined in a dusky-rose lip gloss, she looked cool and poised. But she was nowhere near as cool inside; she could not banish her suspicion of Nick's motive from her mind.

Sighing, she turned away from the mirror, and slipped her feet into three-inch-heeled silver sandals that matched the silver strapless dress she was wearing. Maybe Nick was right and she was paranoid? She straightened up, and adjusted the chain of the diamond crucifix at her throat. She
looked good, she was attractive, so why was she plagued with insecurities? Maybe that was what love did to one?

No, she was not in love, Liza told herself; she needed to get a grip. So far she had allowed Nick to call all the shots and it had to stop. She wanted some straight answers to some straight questions from the man. If they were not forthcoming then she was going to leave tomorrow. If Nick was telling the truth and he really had a great desire for her, he would follow her, and if he didn't then better to know now before she got in too deep.

The door flung open, and Nick walked into the room. ‘
Dios,
Liza.' He stopped, his dark eyes roaming over her from the cool beauty of her face and lower to where the silver strapless gown revealed the gentle swell of her breasts, then lovingly clung to every perfect inch of her to end mid-thigh. She had legs to die for… ‘You look incredible.' She reminded him of some fabled Valkyrie, a Norse goddess, and he felt the most inexplicable pain in his chest.

‘Have you ever heard of knocking?' Liza smiled but stepped back as he walked towards her, an unmistakable gleam in his eyes.

‘We are way past that stage.' Nick's glance slanted meaningfully at the bed, and back to roam slowly over her once again.

‘You maybe, but not me,' Liza said firmly. But her pulse was racing at the sight of him. In a formal dinner suit he was devastating.

‘Am I missing something here?' Nick asked drily, and caught her hand, bringing it up towards his chest. ‘I thought we were past playing games, but if you insist on formality…' He bowed his dark head and kissed her hand.

Her fingers curled against the tingling sensations shooting up her arm, and when he lifted his head she saw the desire tinged with anger in the depths of his dark eyes.

‘Not formality,' she countered steadily, ‘but good manners never come amiss. And I told you last night I am not sleeping with you when your mother is at home, and this
time I mean it.' Her blue eyes clashed with his. He was watching her intently, a curious expression on his starkly handsome face.

What on earth was she doing lecturing Nick Menendez on manners? She grimaced at the thought. ‘I'll forgive you this time, Nick.' She opted to tease. ‘Now, where is the party?'

‘I know where I would like it to be,' he drawled mockingly with another glance at the bed, ‘but it seems that is not an option.' And tightening his hold on her hand, he added, ‘anyway, duty calls. But, be warned, we are leaving at midnight for a drive if that is the only way to get you alone.' And to illustrate his point he bent his arrogant dark head, and ran his tongue along the curve of her breasts above the bodice of the dress.

Instant excitement lanced through her body. ‘What do you think you're doing?' she jerked back.

‘Please, Liza, no innocent outrage, we both know it is a lie,' Nick drawled cynically, staring down into her brilliant blue eyes. She was stunningly beautiful, and incredibly sexy, but he was a lot older and a lot smarter than he was when he had hungered after her in a stable all those years ago. Life had taught him that women were devious creatures, and this one was probably more treacherous than most. Two hours ago he had left Liza eager and wanting, but something had changed, and why the hell he was trying to protect her he did not know.

‘Come on,' he said flatly, ‘we'll be late,' and with her hand still in his he pulled her out of the bedroom.

Nick had just spent a painful half-hour being lectured by his own mother on his relationships with women; he did not need any more hassle from the fairer sex, though he was beginning to think there was nothing fair about them.

His mother had told him quite frankly she knew perfectly well he used women for his own gratification with no thought of commitment. But if he had any idea of treating the lovely Liza in the same way he could forget it.

If any other person talked to him as his mother had done he would have felled them. But she was his mother so he had contained his temper, though it had been a near thing when she had caustically informed him that she was certain the reason Liza had stayed away since she was sixteen had to be because Nick had made a pass at the girl and terrified her, and he was not to repeat the mistake. Liza was a
good girl
.

He'd almost lost it then and told his mother the truth. Good in bed, yes! But as for the rest… The injustice of it still made him see red.

Tightening his grip on Liza's arm, he hurried her through the long corridors to the main part of the house. Dark eyes hard, he glanced at her exquisite profile; he was trying to save the woman from almost certain arrest, but to hear his mother talking he was one stop short of a sex maniac.

But, even worse for a man who prided himself on being in control, he knew he was on very shaky ground. Plus, if he took Liza at her word, his sex life was down the drain as long as they stayed here.

What a dilemma. He was between a rock and a hard place and he did not like it. Damn it to hell! He was much too wily and jaded a male to fall for typical feminine ploys, and rescuing damsels in distress had gone out in the last century with the advance of feminism. So what had possessed him to act like a misguided knight to save Liza? He had no answer, or not one he was prepared to admit to. But he had discovered it was not easy trying to act the white knight, especially when he was thinking below his waist most of the time, and that was Liza's fault as well.

Liza was quietly fuming. ‘Wait a minute, Nick.' He had almost dragged her through the house without giving her time to catch her breath, but now they could hear the music playing and they had almost reached the entrance to the huge salon.

‘Before we go any further,' Liza stopped and that got his attention, his dark eyes glancing impatiently down at her,
‘I want to know how you knew the name of my boss Henry Brown. I never told you but you mentioned him first at dinner last night, and also how did you know I was sharing a suite with him?'

So she had finally noticed the one real slip he'd made. He wasn't surprised; she was an intelligent girl. ‘You have a very low opinion of your own attraction if you have to keep searching for a reason to be with me, other than sex,' he said bluntly. ‘And a very fertile imagination, Liza; a bit of business espionage, something like that on your mind, hmm?' And tightening his grip on her wrist, he added, ‘I don't usually explain my actions to a woman, but I will make an exception in your case. It is quite simple; when I arrived at your hotel last night I asked for you at Reception. The girl there was very chatty,' Nick opined hardly. ‘She told me you were sharing a suite with a Henry Brown.'

His crack about a low opinion of herself and sex hit a nerve, but it did not stop her questioning his response. Was a receptionist supposed to give out that kind of information? Liza didn't think so. But then, remembering her first sight of Nick in the hotel, leaning on the desk laughing with the girl, and her own jealous reaction, she had to accept his answer was perfectly feasible. Nick could charm anything out of any woman, she thought drily, and felt stupid for asking. ‘Do you mind? You're hurting me,' she snapped.

‘Not at all.' He dropped her wrist as if it was something unpleasant. ‘It would never do for us to be seen holding hands, family friend and all that,' he mocked.

‘Señor.'
Manuel appeared at Nick's side, and said something softly in Spanish.

Nick placed a hand at the base of Liza's spine. ‘Go on in—I have to take a call.' And he was gone before she could protest, disappearing into what she knew was the study. Liza stood for a moment, her eyes on the closed door. Industrial espionage was a bit wild, but she was still not convinced that Nick didn't have some agenda of his
own, and it wasn't just a helpless fascination for her body, she was sure.

A crowd of people entered the hall and reluctantly she gave up trying to fathom Nick and walked into the large salon. The party had already started and there had to be over a hundred people there.

A small dance floor had been laid at one end and a trio was playing lively Latino music. Liza glanced around but she hardly knew anyone.

Seeing a passing waiter balancing a tray, she gratefully accepted a glass of champagne and took a good swallow, cursing Nick under her breath for deserting her, but at the same time realising it was inevitable. He had passed her off as a friend of the family, and that was how she must stay. Deviousness was not in her nature, but Nick was a master at it. He had dismissed her honest question as not important and sadly she realised it was not important to him, because
she
was not important to him. He didn't actually care how she felt as long as he got what he wanted.

Liza could not tolerate deceit of any kind, and unfortunately, Liza realised, drawing on the harsh lesson she had learned nine years ago, wanting someone was not enough. Respect and trust had to be part of the equation, not to mention love. Better to nip the affair in the bud now, before Nick actually broke her heart. Her decision was made; she was definitely going to leave in the morning.

She only had to get through tonight. Draining her glass, she placed it on a convenient table and, straightening her shoulders, she lifted her head and looked around.

 

Nick leaned against his desk in the study and listened in mounting anger as Carl filled him in on the latest developments.

The case had taken a nasty twist. Two men had beaten up Daidolas's receptionist at the shop—probably the sailors the police were trying to find. They knew there had been a delivery and they wanted to know where Daidolas was;
he owed them money or they would take diamonds. The terrified receptionist had revealed an English girl had delivered a parcel but she knew nothing about it, or where her boss was. The police had checked Liza's hotel, and worse was to follow: somebody had called and asked to speak to Mr Brown's PA, and the talkative girl on the desk, probably the same one Nick had spoken to the night before, had quite happily revealed Liza had left with a Señor Menendez, and that Liza's luggage had been sent for a few hours later.

Nick cursed the downside of being a high-profile businessman as Carl informed him it was more than likely the two men knew Liza was in Spain with him and everyone had heard of the Menendez stud.

A few telephone calls later and Nick left his study, his handsome face hard and slightly grey beneath his tan. He had arranged for round-the-clock security on the estate, by his own men and the local police. But he was still not content. It was a big party, and with over a hundred guests anybody could have slipped onto the property in the bustle of arrivals. He wanted Liza out of here.