At the Spaniard's Pleasure (16 page)

Focusing on the mountain, Liza let out a horrified gasp as she spotted the distinctive figure of Nick dressed in black, and as she watched he took off, a black parachute with the red emblem of the Timanfaye devil emblazoned across sailing above him. He soared and dipped down the mountainside, his great body twisting and turning as he skimmed rocky outcrops and jumped off cliffs with a total disregard for life and limb.

All the colour drained from her face, her heart leapt into her throat as his body flew through the air, and she expected any second he would be smashed against a cliff. She watched until his distinctive chute finally vanished behind another mountain.

Turning away, her legs trembling, she went inside and straight down to the bar, ordered a large Scotch, and, crossing to a quiet corner, she slumped down into an armchair and drank the whisky down in one go.

Her heart was pounding like a drum in her chest, and she felt sick. Sick with fear, not for herself, but for Nick. A vivid mental picture of his magnificent body broken and bloody on the white snow flashed in her mind, and she groaned. Oh, God, why did he do such things? What made a sane man risk his life over and over again in the name of fun? She wouldn't call it a sport, it was sheer reckless, macho bravado, and she hated the very thought of Nick even contemplating taking part, never mind actually doing it.

Liza's teeth clenched, rage sweeping through every cell
in her body. She would kill him when she got her hands on him, if he had not killed himself first…

The sheer stupidity of her angry reaction hit her, and with it came the knowledge that she had been trying to deny all week, that she was falling in love with him…

No, that way lay heartbreak, as sure as night followed day. She had been terrified watching Nick this afternoon, sick to her stomach. She could imagine the agony all too easily of loving such a man. Wondering every time he took part in such events if he would ever come back.

She already had a taste of the pain, wondering now if he was safe, and she hated it. She had thought she was in love once with Bob, and that had been a disaster. No way was she going down the same route again. Rising to her feet, Liza ran her hands through her glorious hair, her face pale but determined as she walked towards the exit.

Now she knew why Nick had been edgy this morning. He must have been high on adrenaline, tension stretched to breaking point as he thought of the event ahead. No wonder he had not really wanted her to come with him. He had not even told her what he was going to do…

Dinner was a raucous affair. Liza sat quietly at Nick's side as he and his friends discussed every twist and turn of their monumental folly as far as Liza was concerned.

Much later in the dark comfort of the big bed, Nick made love to her with a wild, hungry passion. He moved inside her, and groaned something she could not hear, his eyes blazing in a face that was tense and drawn in a rictus of desire.

She kissed him then and he drove her higher, sensation building on sensation until she was mindless, aware only of the strength of him possessing her utterly, and she cried out his name and climaxed, and climaxed again, and felt his great body shuddering over her, before collapsing on top of her.

Nick rolled onto his back, taking her with him, and she laid her head against his chest as his pounding heart slowed
beneath her cheek and returned to normal. His long arm wrapped around her waist and he squeezed gently.

‘You never cease to amaze me, Liza. I think I've told you that before,' he said softly. ‘You're a woman in a million.' His hand gently brushed back the tumbled mass of hair from her brow. ‘I was sure you would be mad today when you discovered what I was doing, and yet it never fazed you at all. Thank you.'

Turning slightly, Liza looked up into his dark eyes, saw the warmth and, yes, affection, and she had to summon all her inner strength to say what she knew she must. ‘No need to thank me, Nick; if you want to kill yourself that is your prerogative. I am out of here next Friday and back to work.' She felt the slight tension in his body. ‘Holiday over.'

‘Then we'd better not waste time talking.' And she was on her back and Nick claimed her mouth with his.

 

Liza crouched down to remove her skis and paused for a moment. She could see the rise and dip of the mountains, the snow, dazzling to the eyes in the midday sun, and she blinked back a tear.

They were leaving for the airport in an hour, and to head back to Lanzarote. She should really have left early this morning but Nick had persuaded her to stay for one last run, convincing her that he would get her back in time for the gala dinner. Not that she needed much convincing…

‘What's wrong?' Nick asked, and, removing his sunglasses, he crouched down beside her. ‘Skis stuck?'

Liza looked at him, the concern in the depths of his glorious dark eyes making her heart shake. It never stopped, the hunger, the need for him, and she shook her head. ‘Nothing.' And she rose to her feet before he could see the moisture in her eyes. ‘We'd better get changed and get going.' It was the end of an idyllic holiday and she had vowed to herself she would not ask for more. ‘I do have to be in Lanzarote tonight.'

Nick straightened to his feet. ‘Yes,' he agreed, tension riding him. It was nearly over but not quite.

They entered the building together, but not touching, and headed for the changing rooms. Liza stopped and tilted her head back to look up at Nick, the darkness of indoors after the dazzling light outside blinding her for a moment. ‘Where shall we meet?'

‘Upstairs on the balcony,' Nick responded, ‘but there is no hurry; take your time getting ready,' he told her, and, her eyes adjusting to the shadow, Liza studied his darkly handsome face. His jaw was set, his expression cold and remote. He was already withdrawing from her. She could sense it, had done all morning if she was honest. But then she had been doing the same since last week, or trying to, determined not to fall in love with him.

Involuntarily she lifted her hand to touch his cheek, but stopped, and instead she brushed back a few stray locks of hair from her face. ‘Right, OK.' She dived into the changing room, tears blinding her.

Roughly she wiped the tears from her eyes. She was not going to cry. It had been great. She had had her holiday romance and that was enough. In a few hours she needed never see him again.

He had said to take her time, but suddenly Liza just wanted the parting over with as quickly as possible. She stripped off her ski clothes, didn't bother with a shower, and, pulling on the denim jeans she had arrived in, she slipped on a roll-neck sweater in blue and added the denim jacket. The rest of her gear was already packed and in the Land-Rover.

 

Tense wasn't the word. Nick walked out onto the balcony, and flicked on his mobile phone. He had spoken to Carl early this morning when Liza was sleeping, and knew Brown's yacht had just berthed in the marina at Teguise. He also knew the transfer of cash and diamonds had been set for ten-thirty at a remote spot in the Timanfaya National
Park. What Nick was hoping for was that whoever made the transfer would head straight back to Henry Brown and they would all be picked up.

He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist—it was almost one—and waited impatiently while the telephone rang. He prayed Carl would have the information he wanted.

He had talked Liza out of leaving this morning but he couldn't delay her much longer. Not that it mattered now. He had never had any intention of taking her back to Lanzarote; once on board his jet, they were heading for England, a two-and-a-half-hour flight. By the time Liza realised and they landed, she wouldn't have time to go back to the island.

Liza was still suspicious. He had sensed a wariness in her the last week and she had asked him again last night how he knew her boss when he was arranging their departure for today. He had changed the subject by making love to her, but she would not be diverted forever that way.

His lips twitched in a fleeting smile; though he would love to try.
Dios!
but she was good! The blunt thought made him frown. Good wasn't the word to describe how he felt when he touched her naked body, felt the heat of her when he knelt in the delta of her thighs, the heightened sensations that made him tremble like a teenager with his first girl. Nick groaned, he ached with the need she aroused in him.

When this call was over and he had arranged to keep Liza in the clear…that was if Carl ever answered; he frowned at the continuing ringing tone. He was going to tell her the truth. His honour would not allow him to do less, and then if she was still willing they could continue their relationship with no secrets…totally open.

‘Carl here.'

‘What's happened?' Nick demanded. ‘Have you picked Brown up yet?'

‘Mission accomplished.' Carl's voice rang with triumph. ‘Would you believe Brown called at Daidolas's when he
left the yacht to go to his hotel? He couldn't resist checking the diamonds again before they were handed over to the courier for the exchange, and we have the whole thing on video. Brown was getting far too complacent—he should have remembered third time lucky, or unlucky in his case. The courier arrived at the meeting place and we trailed him straight back to Brown at his hotel. We picked them both up along with Daidolas.'

‘Great!' Nick exclaimed.

 

Liza reached the top step that led out through a double door onto the balcony when she heard Nick's voice, and wondered who he was talking to. She froze at the mention of her boss's name.

Totally unaware of Liza's presence, Nick carried on. ‘So we finally got that thieving bastard Henry Brown. I hope they lock him up for years. Congratulations.'

‘With a lot of help from you, Nick. Your questioning of the girl and keeping tabs on her was brilliant. But when are you bringing her back?'

‘Keeping tabs on Liza was no hardship,' Nick chuckled, the relief he felt that the whole thing was almost over immense. ‘But I wanted to talk to you about her.' He hitched a hip onto the balcony rail, and let his glance roam over the view before him, searching for the right words. ‘I know we thought Liza was involved with Brown in the theft of the diamonds when she delivered them for him. Now you have Brown under lock and key in a Spanish jail with the rest of them…'

Liza listened with mounting horror as Nick's deep, melodious voice spelt out exactly what he thought of her. A diamond thief! She tuned out the rest—she didn't need to hear how he was going to deliver her to jail.

Suddenly everything was crystal-clear in her shocked mind, and she had never felt so shamed and humiliated in her whole life, and she had only herself to blame.

All Nick's questions about her job and her boss and her
movements took on a sinister slant. As soon as she'd met up with Anna, Liza had been suspicious of Nick's motives for taking her to Spain and she had been right all along about him knowing the name Henry Brown without her telling him. He had been having him followed.

But she had let herself be convinced that it was Nick's overwhelming desire for her that had driven him to the deception. Then when she found herself at the ski-cabin instead of an airport she had fallen for his overwhelming-desire routine a second time.

What kind of sex-starved idiot did that make her, when she was stupid enough to believe his double deception? The bitter truth was all the time he had been keeping her under surveillance because he thought she was a jewel thief.

Liza felt like screaming her anguish at the mountains. She had been braving herself to say a sophisticated goodbye at the end of a holiday romance, and the lying, deceitful… The words escaped her.

Fury as ferocious as it was primitive swamped her. She wanted to scratch Nick's lying eyes out, and in a red haze of rage she dashed towards him.

‘W
HAT
the hell…?' Nick exclaimed. He caught a brief glimpse of Liza as a small clenched fist caught him on his jaw and sent him reeling backwards. He made a wild grab for the rail and just stopped himself plunging thirty feet to the snow-covered ground below.

‘You bastard!' she yelled. She saw his head jerk back and his great body sway, and stopped dead, paralysed by fear at where her anger had almost led. She might have killed him. Frozen in shock, she simply stared as he leapt towards her. Two strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders and his black eyes, leaping with fury, clashed with hers. ‘I'm—' sorry; the word formed in her mouth but he cut her off.

‘Have you taken leave of your senses, you stupid bitch?' he roared. ‘You could have killed me.'

It was the
stupid bitch
that did it. Snapped out of her frozen horror, she forgot any intention of apologising. Flinging back her head, she met his furious gaze with bitter, angry eyes. ‘Pity I didn't,' she snapped, ruthlessly banking down the pain that she could feel twisting inside her. He had lied and cheated once too often, hurt her for the last time, and fiercely she held his black gaze as the tension stretched between them, determined not to look away, not to show any sign of weakness. She had been weak where Nick was concerned for far too long.

‘What did you say?' Nick hissed with sibilant softness, finally breaking the lengthening silence, and it was only the clenched muscles of his implacable face, and the fingers digging into her shoulders that betrayed his barely contained fury.

‘You heard,' Liza said, her voice toneless. ‘But don't worry, Nick, I will never touch you again. It is quite enough for me to be known as a thief, without adding murderer.'

Nick's hand moved from one shoulder and grasped her chin, roughly tilting her face up to within inches of his own, his breath warm against her skin, his eyes dark and violent. ‘You nearly kill me and that is all you have got to say,' he snarled. ‘
Dios mio!
You are unbelievable. You overheard something you didn't like and lashed out without even waiting for an explanation.'

‘Another explanation! Along the lines you were overcome with passion, you wanted me alone,' Liza drawled sarcastically. She could feel the icy shock at what she had overheard dissipating, and she knew the pain was waiting for her, but she still managed to continue. ‘Try—I can take care of Liza the thief, while your friend has my boss flung in jail.'

‘No,' Nick drew a deep, exasperated breath, ‘it wasn't like that.'

Through the mounting pain in her heart Liza stared at him. ‘The day we met you were looking for me; it wasn't an accidental meeting at all?' she realised suddenly, her mind suddenly clear as a bell. ‘You asked me about my work, and I happily told you everything.' She shook her blonde head, her blue eyes glacial. ‘I should have known you were up to something. You hadn't spoken to me in years. You always thought I was a slut, but it never entered my head you thought I was a thief as well.'

‘Liza.'

She wrenched free of him. ‘Don't bother denying it, Nick.' She glared at him bitterly. ‘Just tell me, how could you bear to make love to me, thinking as you do?' And, without waiting for an answer, ‘No, don't bother.' She raised a hand to his face palm towards him. ‘For the Spanish Stud, it was probably an added thrill for your jaded palate to seduce me.'

‘I never seduced you,' Nick began darkly, ‘and I regret you overheard something that upset you, but—'

‘But you did think I was a thief,' Liza prompted and saw the dark colour sweeping up under his skin. He was fuming, but he could not deny it.

‘You don't understand,' Nick grated, his glittering eyes raking over her. ‘I can explain.' He had lied to his best friend to protect this woman, and what had he got in return? A near-death experience and an aching jaw, and now Liza was looking at him with loathing.

‘There is nothing to explain; I already know it all.' He had seduced her with his sophisticated expertise and she had let him, while all the time he had thought her a thief. She didn't need the details, all she needed was to get away before the pain swamped her and she broke down in tears. ‘You are a lying, lecherous apology for a man and I never want to set eyes on you again in my life.' Spinning on her heel, she dashed headlong for the stairs.

Reaching the ground-floor exit, Liza halted, her eyes aching with unshed tears and bile rising in her throat in a tide of self-loathing as she remembered how she had been with Nick—pathetically eager to explore every erotic nuance of sex, glorying in his body, touching him, tasting him, and all the time he must have been laughing at her…

She recalled that very first day Nick had taken her to Spain and to his bed, and she had let him, welcomed him with open arms. For the first time in years she had met a man who could make her break the tight bonds of restraint around her emotions. Knowing he was not into commitment, she had told herself she was mature, confident enough to handle a sexual affair. A holiday romance.

Now she realised Nick hadn't even been offering that. His real agenda had been much more sinister; he had been quizzing her for information while keeping her under surveillance for his friend Carl Dalk. She thought of the times he had dismissed her suspicions as nothing, but she realised now she should have trusted her instincts. She had always
known he thought she was a tramp; it wasn't much of a jump to think her a thief as well, and act as her jailer.

Not any more…Liza thought, her anger boiling up again. What gave Nick Menendez the right to act as judge and jury on her character? She straightened her shoulders, and stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sun. Nick was a ruthless devil and she should have remembered that instead of being blinded by sex.

She took a few deep, steadying breaths and looked around. She saw the Land-Rover; her luggage was in there, but she didn't give a damn. She would hitch a lift if she could; she was getting out of here now. She had her passport and credit cards—she didn't need anything else.

‘Wait, Liza.' Nick's strong hand closed around her arm, and furiously she tried to wrench free, but he held her firm. ‘This is Señor Lancio.' Only then did she notice the short, stocky man at his side. ‘I have arranged for him to drive you to the airport; my plane is waiting, as you know, and the pilot has instructions to take you straight to your destination.' Urging her towards the Land-Rover, he stopped to allow Señor Lancio to open the passenger door, then he let go of her arm. ‘Be my guest.'

‘No, thanks, I have been your guest once too often already,' Liza slashed back, her blazing blue eyes clashing with black, ‘and I don't like what it entails.'

‘You have nothing to worry about. As you requested, I will not subject you to my presence any longer.'

Liza looked at the vehicle, saw Señor Lancio get in the driving seat and start the engine. She looked back at Nick. What the hell? At least she would get away from him quicker this way and climbed in. She fastened the safety belt and stared straight ahead as Señor Lancio manoeuvred the vehicle out of the car park, making a mental note not to fall asleep like last time, or she might end up in Timbuktu!

 

Monday morning Liza sat on the tube trundling its way under the city of London, and wondered if the last two weeks had been a dream or a nightmare. She guessed she would soon find out.

A vivid image of Nick Menendez the last time she had seen him filled her mind. He was standing by the Land-Rover, his handsome face as hard as granite, his black eyes frozen as they met hers.

Thinking about it now, Liza closed her eyes briefly. Nick had still had the last laugh, damn him! She had boarded the private plane, and it was only when the plane landed she'd realised she was not in Lanzarote… He had sent her back to London.

Back in her flat, she had tried to ring the hotel and discover if Henry Brown was there. But it had proved a fruitless exercise—they refused to discuss guests over the telephone—and when she had pointed out she was supposedly a guest herself, for some inexplicable reason there was no trace of her ever having signed in.

She had spent the whole weekend locked in her apartment, alternating between tears for a love that had never been and fury at the man who had done this to her. In her saner moments she had paced the floor, trying to fathom out why she had been gullible enough to accept Henry Brown's glib offer of a holiday.

Even worse—why had she delivered the package for him? It must have been the diamonds Nick was talking about to his friend; she realised that much, but the ramifications of her action filled her with terror. If Henry Brown was guilty of diamond smuggling then she was without doubt an accomplice. She could declare her innocence until she was blue in the face, but actions spoke louder than words, and years in a Spanish jail loomed large in her nightmares.

As the tube came to a halt at her stop Liza got up and pushed her way through the crowd of commuters and out onto the street. She pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck and, with head bent against the freezing wind, she
set off walking towards the office, not sure what she would find when she got there, but pride and belief in her own innocence made her hold her head high as she walked into the reception area.

With no ‘hello' or ‘good morning', the pretty, dark-haired receptionist looked at Liza with barely concealed curiosity in her eyes. ‘Mr Stubbs is back and he is waiting for you in the boardroom.'

With a brief nod of her head in acceptance, Liza made her way to the boardroom. Her old boss back from retirement simply confirmed her worst fears. So it was with a fast-beating heart she walked into the oak-panelled room, and closed the door behind her.

‘Liza, Liza, my dear.' Mr Stubbs immediately crossed to take her arm. ‘Come along and sit down.' He pulled out a chair at the long, polished table, and Liza was glad to sit down; her legs felt like rubber. Panic was beginning to take root in her mind.

Mr Stubbs sat at the head of the table, and took her hand in his. ‘Thank goodness you are back safely. I blame myself for encouraging you to work for that bounder Brown when I retired. He pulled the wool over everyone's eyes. Not content with making a very good income with my company, he had to go and freelance as a diamond thief. What is the City coming to when thieving men like that can flourish? But thank God he is caught, and thanks to you our firm will not be involved.'

Her mouth fell open like a goldfish. Mr Stubbs was thanking her…

‘You obviously have friends in very high places.'

‘Me…?' Liza breathed, a hand to her chest. ‘I don't understand.' She shook her head in bemusement; she had half expected a policeman to be waiting for her, not a grinning Mr Stubbs. ‘What has happened?' she asked, and Mr Stubbs proceeded to tell her in detail.

Apparently Mr Stubbs had been approached on Friday afternoon by the Spanish Embassy and within the hour a
detective from the Spanish police was interviewing him. He was informed his top executive Henry Brown was a diamond thief, and he had used the company expense account to hire yachts to transport the diamonds with the help of a motley crew, now all in custody.

Mr Stubbs had spent Saturday morning at the office and confidentially provided the Spanish authorities with the relevant expense documents that they requested.

Then to his amazement and relief the Spanish police had told him they had it on the excellent authority of a Señor Niculoso Menendez that the firm of Stubbs and Company was completely blameless, as was a Miss Liza Summers, who had been inadvertently drawn into the plot and been instrumental in helping the capture of the thief. They had departed with the words that obviously, as the case was to be tried in Spain, it was unlikely to make the British Press, but even if it did he had nothing to fear. The names of Stubbs and Company and Miss Summers would not be made public.

Liza could not take it all in, and she sat in a daze as Mr Stubbs rattled on about how grateful he was to her. Slowly it dawned on her it was solely because of Nick's intervention she was not now languishing in a Spanish jail. He was a hero, according to Mr Stubbs. A regular, modern-day James Bond, as he so succinctly put it.

‘My God, Liza, have you any idea how lucky you were? Apparently the day after you left Lanzarote the optician's receptionist was brutally beaten up by two of the gang. That's what happens when thieves begin to fall out. They look for everyone connected to the crime. They called the hotel you were staying in at Teguise, looking for you, and discovered you were in Spain with Señor Menendez—you were probably next on their list.'

‘Me!' Liza's mouth fell open in shocked horror, she had seen the receptionist when she had gone to the shop, and the whole affair took on a nightmare flavour.

‘Yes, my girl. Menendez had a security cordon placed
around his family home, and took you away to a safe house. He very probably saved your life, because the two villains were finally picked up four days later trying to board a flight for Malaga. A bit too close for comfort, hmm?'

Finally Mr Stubbs ended with he was bored with retirement after only two months and quite relieved to return to work, and of course Liza would resume as his secretary. But Liza wasn't listening; she was in a state of shock.

 

‘Comfortable, darling?' Liza's mum asked as Liza fastened her seat belt. ‘You look a bit pale.'

Pale wasn't the word; terrified was more like it, Liza thought drily, at what she was about to do. It was over two months since she had left Spain, and now she was going back. She tried to tell herself she was simply accepting Anna Menendez's offer to spend Easter with her mother at her home. But the reality was she was hoping to see Nick. At the very least she owed him a huge apology and quite possibly her life…

After her meeting with Mr Stubbs Liza had returned to her studio apartment in Kensington in a state of utter confusion. She accepted that, even if Nick had suspected she was involved in the diamond theft, he had gone out of his way to protect her, whisking her away from Lanzarote to Spain, and then again to the ski-cabin when he thought her life was in danger, keeping her safe while all the culprits were rounded up and, according to Mr Stubbs, persuading Carl Dalk, the owner of the diamonds, to drop any charges that could have been brought against her for acting as a courier on the island.