At the Spaniard's Pleasure (14 page)

‘Work was no problem—I joined the firm, and I got en
gaged to Sophia to keep him happy. Sophia agreed because she wanted to go to university, and the engagement stopped her father grumbling about her wasting her time studying, when she should be finding a husband. I helped her out financially. It was a business agreement, nothing more, and it ended two months after my father died.'

‘You expect me to believe that after last night?' Liza said flatly. But her own innate honesty forced her to admit if Marco had not told her the rumour about Nick and his unrequited love she probably would have believed him, because it had been a sudden engagement yet it had dragged on for three years, ending after the death of his father. The facts fitted. She was no longer sure what to believe, or who.

Nick stepped back and spread his hands wide. ‘Why else would I tell you?' His mouth was sardonic. ‘Think about it. If what you thought was true, and I was afraid you were going to speak to Sophia about us, it would make more sense to put you on the first plane out of Malaga.'

He always had an answer for everything, but he was right, damn him! Liza collapsed down on the sofa. ‘Then why…' she demanded, shaking her head and looking confusedly around the small cabin ‘…why here?'

‘Enough, let's stop this pointless argument,' Nick growled, his frustration getting the better of him, and, bending down, he flung a strong arm around her waist, lifted her bodily off the sofa and held her hard against him. ‘All I am trying to do is protect your reputation.' And it was as near the truth as he dared tell her.

‘By dragging me off to a cabin when I was on my way back to some sun in Lanzarote? Some protection!' Liza shot back derisively, and looked into his dark eyes, her own shooting sparks. Who the hell did he think he was? Hauling her around the countryside as if he was some mediaeval slave master, apparently for sex, without his precious family finding out. He wasn't protecting her, he was protecting himself…

‘I wanted to be alone with you, and I had hoped you felt
the same,' Nick seethed and, swinging her up in his arms, he strode across the room and elbowed open a door. ‘I am looking after you and that is the end of it.'

Imprisoned in his arms, Liza quailed at the barely leashed violence in his black eyes, and, looking away, her eyes collided with a massive white quilt-covered bed, and her temper soared. ‘Forcibly carrying me into a bedroom…' she cried. ‘You call that looking after—'

‘Shut up,' Nick roared, dropping her onto the bed, and before she could move a muscle he was over her, his mouth covering hers in a savage, possessive kiss. ‘This is our best line of communication,' he rasped against her swollen lips a long, savagely passionate moment later. ‘The only one that need concern you. As for the rest, believe me, it is for your own good.'

‘F
OR
your own good.'
As a child Liza had hated that comment; it had invariably meant the opposite of what she wanted to do, and it sounded no better coming from Nick Menendez.

‘No,' Liza yelped breathlessly, and was shocked by the darkening desire in his glittering eyes, felt it in the hard length of his body pressing her down into the mattress. ‘You are no good for me or any woman,' she cried. ‘And I wouldn't believe you if you were the last man on the planet.' She could not dismiss the notion that he had an ulterior motive for getting her on her own. If not Sophia, then maybe her original suspicion of industrial espionage was not such a wild idea.

Nick raised his head; he rolled off her, and flung an arm over his face. What the hell was he doing? She looked terrified.

Scrambling off the bed, Liza turned and glanced down at Nick, her face hot, another second and she would have been putty in his hands and the thought appalled her. She watched as his arm fell down to his side.

‘It's all right, Liza, you have nothing to be afraid of. I have never forced a woman into bed, and I am not going to start with you.' His voice was flat and devoid of any emotion. ‘I told you the truth about my relationship with Sophia, and as for wanting you,' a wry smile curved his mouth, ‘that is certainly true. I knew that night on the plane that sexually we are extremely compatible. I don't think even you would argue with that.'

‘No,' she said thickly. Liza felt confused, unable to move or think, and far too intensely aware of his long body re
clining on the bed. She lowered her head and stared at her tightly linked hands, clasped together to stop them trembling.

‘Good.' Nick rose in one fluid motion to stand towering over her. ‘Then how about we start afresh?' He captured both her hands in his. ‘Look at me, Liza,' he said quietly, and warily Liza lifted her head and met his dark eyes. ‘We are two good friends on a skiing holiday.' He let go of her hands and tipped her chin with one long finger. ‘That is all I ask. It can be a great holiday,' his eyes darkened perceptibly, ‘or a fantastic holiday—the choice is yours; all you have to do is
ask.
'

She wouldn't have been human if she wasn't tempted but the wounds were still raw from the first time he had suggested a holiday. Amazingly Liza reminded herself it was only two days ago, and her emotions had been on a roller-coaster ride from ecstasy to agony ever since.

About to tell him no way, she changed her mind and took rapid mental stock. Nick was her first real lover, so it was hardly surprising doubt and suspicion plagued her. As for Sophia, she was inclined to believe Nick. He would hardly be here with her if he was madly in love with the other woman. Maybe his idea of being friends wasn't such a bad one; as for the rest, she was in charge… ‘But why skiing?' She didn't realise she had spoken out loud.

‘Because it is the national championships this week; some of my friends are taking part, and I love skiing.'

Liza's blue eyes widened to their fullest extent on his handsome face, her mouth falling open in shock at the sheepish expression in his incredible eyes. ‘I don't believe it.'

‘True, I swear, and you might even like watching.' And he grinned.

Liza had to fight down the insane desire to laugh. ‘You are incorrigible.' She shook her head, her pigtails swinging. While she was thinking up wild scenarios as to why he had brought her here, it was nothing more than Nick being his
usual arrogant self, doing what he wanted when he wanted. It was a classic Nick moment. ‘But why drag me into it?'

‘Do you really need to ask?' he queried with a sardonic smile.

She knew exactly what he meant and felt the tell-tale blush sweep up her face. Her throat tightened and her heart began to race.

Humorous dark eyes roamed blatantly over her shapely body. ‘You know, for a beautiful, self-confident woman, you're incredibly unaware of your feminine power.'

‘If I had any power,' she managed to snap back, ‘I would not be stuck in a ski-cabin, but sunning myself on a beach.'

‘I never thought.' Nick's dark brows drew together in a frown. ‘You can't ski.'

‘Yes, I can. I was a member of the ski club at university,' Liza swiftly contradicted him. But whether she could ski was not the point; then he smiled at her with that dazzling brilliance that took her breath away.

‘Great.' He flicked his finger up under her chin. ‘I'll go and make that hot drink.'

‘Wait, I never said…' By the time she remembered what her point was he was gone and she was talking to herself.

Ten minutes later she was sitting at the kitchen table and Nick placed a cup of hot coffee in front of her. ‘Get that down you, and then we will go to the lodge for lunch and get in an afternoon's skiing,' he declared as if her acceptance was a
fait accompli
, taking the seat opposite.

‘But I can't—I have nothing to wear.' Liza cast him a fulminating glance, but was struck again by his sheer male magnificence. He looked gorgeous with his black hair ruffled, and his handsome face lit with enthusiasm for the sport ahead.

‘How like a woman,' he drawled, a lazy smile curling his lips. ‘But don't worry, there's a good shop at the lodge that will provide all you need.' Grasping her hand across the table, he stood up. ‘Come on, let's go.'

Nick drove them the mile or so to the ski complex and
as they approached Liza's attention was caught by the swaying ski lift, and a bubble of excitement ignited inside her, for once not sexual…

‘I haven't skied since I was at university,' she confided, her eyes roaming over the snow-covered slope dotted with people, eager to join them. ‘I only hope I can remember how.' She smiled, glancing at Nick.

Nick slanted a look at her from beneath thick black lashes; her eyes were sparkling with anticipation, and her wide, excited smile illuminated her whole face. His breath snagged in his throat, and he brought the Land-Rover to a less than perfect halt outside the ski lodge.

In that moment he finally admitted what he had known deep down all along: Liza was no more a thief than he was. It wasn't in her nature. She was the same impulsive, easy to anger and easy to forgive, beautiful person she had always been from the first time he had set eyes on her at the tender age of eight, when she had cried and he had comforted her.

She was incapable of deceit. She hadn't a dishonest bone in her body. Her expressive features revealed every emotion with a dazzling honesty she could not hide, and when they made love she gave everything of herself with a wild generosity, a freedom of spirit not even the greatest actress in the world could aspire to.

Nick expelled a long breath, and leapt out of the Land-Rover. Even while trying to protect her, he had wanted to believe the worst of her. When had he become such a cynic? He moved around the Land-Rover, and, opening the passenger door, lifted a hand to her. ‘Let me help you.'

Grinning, Liza took his outstretched hand and jumped down. ‘Ever the gentleman,' she teased, and, glancing up, she stilled. His strong face was taut and his eyes were fixed on her with an intensity that shocked her.

‘Nick.' His hand gripped hers so tightly it hurt. ‘Nick, are you OK?'

Shaking his head, Nick let go of her hand. ‘Fine.' He
slung a long arm around her slender shoulders and hugged her. He knew the truth now, always had, he thought wryly, and led her into the lodge.

‘No, Nick,' Liza remonstrated as Nick asked the assistant to add an exquisite cashmere twin-set to the ski-suit and sweater she had already picked. ‘I don't need anything else. Anyway, I have to be back in Lanzarote soon,' she reminded him. ‘And at these prices I can't afford any more.'

Nick surveyed her with exasperated dark eyes. ‘Don't be difficult, Liza.' He needed no reminding that their time together was limited, or that she wasn't the money-hungry thief he had thought. He felt bad enough as it was. ‘I brought you here, and I am paying.'

Liza clashed with Nick's arrogant, intent gaze, and drew in a deep, steadying breath. ‘It is not necessary.' And for a long moment their eyes locked, something indefinable passing between them.

‘Maybe not for you, Liza, but it is for me. Let me do this for you, please,' Nick said softly.

Nick, less than his arrogant best and saying please! But what really stopped the refusal forming in Liza's throat was the unmistakable glimmer of vulnerability in the depths of his black eyes that she had never seen before. ‘OK,' she agreed and was rewarded with a blinding smile, plus half an hour later enough clothes to keep her warm through a dozen winters.

Lunch was a thick meat soup with crusty bread, and Liza was surprised by the number of people who came up to speak to Nick. ‘You seem to be well-known here,' she remarked as she ate the last mouthful of bread. ‘I had no idea there was a ski resort of this size in Spain.' She looked out of the plate-glass window at the people dotted on the slopes. Nick had pointed out the different runs when they had sat down.

‘The whole place was upgraded when the world championships were scheduled to be held here a few years back.'
A wry smile twisted his lips. ‘Unfortunately it was the one year there was not enough snow.'

Liza laughed. ‘How terrible.'

‘For business, yes. But for the regular clientele all the new facilities are quite a godsend. There is a great viewing terrace above here with state-of-the-art telescopes if you want to watch the action close up.'

Later, covered head to toe in a red ski suit, Liza whooshed down the intermediate run at Nick's side for the third time. Reaching the bottom, breathless, her face glowing, she pulled off her goggles and looked up at Nick. He wasn't even breathing heavily. His black ski suit fitted him like a glove and she caught her breath at the magnificent figure he cut against the blinding white background. ‘You don't have to stick with me, Nick; anyway, I have had enough. But I know you're itching to take the harder run.'

Shoving his glasses to the back of his head, Nick looked down into her eyes. ‘Yes, I do, Liza.' Until the crooks were caught he was sticking to her side like glue, but he couldn't tell her that. And he would not put it past her to run away if the opportunity arose. ‘You might disappear if I leave you on your own.' Liza saw he was deadly serious, and realised he thought she might just hitch a lift back to the nearest town, and his concern touched something deep inside her.

‘I won't.' She placed a hand on his chest, and his fingers curled around hers.

Hearing her admission, Nick desperately wanted to take her in his arms. ‘I believe you.' But he had virtually promised to wait until she asked, and she was worth waiting for. ‘But it is time we left; you don't want to overdo the exercise on your first day.' Plus he needed to call Carl and find out if the two sailors had been caught yet.

Standing under the shower spray in the tiny bathroom, Liza hummed a popular tune as she rinsed the soap from her body. It had been a brilliant afternoon; she loved the skiing—it was so invigorating—and Nick had been the per
fect companion…the hours had simply flown by. They had eaten an early dinner at the resort and returned to the cabin in companionable silence. Much better than sitting around a beach, she concluded, and, drying herself off, she slipped her nightie over her head and pulled on the short blue silk gown she used for travelling. Walking back into the living room, she smiled at Nick reclining in the armchair, a glass of wine in his hand.

‘Have you one of those for me?' She flopped down on the sofa and yawned wildly. ‘I think all this fresh air has made me tired. I need a pick-me-up.' Her gaze strayed to the logs blazing in the hearth and for a long moment she was fascinated by the flickering flames; this was cosy, and she let her head fall back against the soft cushions and closed her eyes.

Nick stood in front of her, holding out a glass of cool white wine. ‘Liza.'

She opened her eyes, glanced up, smiled and took the glass. ‘The shower is all yours,' she murmured, for once totally relaxed in his company.

‘Thank you, ma'am.' He bowed, and she threw a cushion at his head, and watched him disappear into the bathroom with a grin on her face.

Liza finished the wine, and placed the glass on the table. She wasn't sure what the future held but for now she was going to live for the moment, and her holiday romance might just work out after all, she thought lazily, her long lashes flickering down over her eyes.

Nick walked out of the bathroom and stilled, transfixed by the picture of Liza asleep on the sofa. His dark eyes travelled from the shining mass of her hair to the soft curve of her cheek, the lush bow of her mouth, and the outline of her body beneath the soft silk wrap she was wearing. He took a step forward, hungry to hold her, to kiss that luscious mouth, to lose himself in that exquisite body. His eyes darkened, and his body stirred. She was all his, he thought possessively, and stopped.

Not yet. He tightened the towel around his hips, and quietly moved into the kitchen. His jacket hung on the back of the chair, and, fishing his mobile phone from the pocket, he punched in the relevant number. Five minutes later he switched it off, his hard face dark with frustrated anger; the news was not good. Carl had informed him the two men were still at liberty.

Nick walked silently back into the living room, and this time he did not stop.

 

Liza stirred restlessly and opened her eyes. ‘Nick.' He was leaning over her, his black hair falling over his brow, and the only illumination in the room was coming from a small table-lamp.

‘You were asleep on the sofa and I carried you into the bedroom.'

‘Thank you,' Liza murmured, her lazy gaze wandering over him, and she realised he was naked except for a towel around his hips. She lifted her eyes and the austere lines of his face mesmerised her; she wanted to reach up and touch him. Some distant voice in her head told her no, but she lifted her hand and stroked it down the bold curve of his cheek. ‘Where will you sleep?' she asked as her hand slipped to his broad shoulder, his dark, intent gaze colliding with hers. Her fingers flexed into the muscles of his shoulder and she heard his harsh intake of breath.