That she was, in other words, sly, scheming and greedy.
What would he say if she told him she’d been heartbroken when she’d learned the land wouldn’t be hers? That it was all she had left of her mother? That seeing the soil paved over, the old barns and stables knocked down to make room for what some called progress, would break her heart all over again?
Foolish question.
Lucas Reyes would say nothing. He wouldn’t believe her.
And why should she believe him? He said he was taking her with him because he wanted to convince his grandfather the contract couldn’t be enforced but was that true? Why would a man take a woman thousands of miles from her home for that reason?
Why should she trust him?
He could do anything to her, with her, once she left the safety of her home, her country…
“Well?”
His expression was still remote, his eyes flat pools of darkness. He was beautiful and terrifying and just the thought of all his power, all his intensity focused on her made her blood start to race.
Tears burned her eyes. She blinked them back. Her only defense was to convince him she wasn’t afraid of him.
“If I were to go with you,” she said, trying her best to sound calm, “you’d have to agree to certain—”
“Stipulations?”
His voice was soft as velvet but there was a razor-sharp edge to the implied humor in the word.
“Conditions,” she said. “Certain conditions.”
“Such as?”
“Such as, you are to treat me with respect.”
A negligent shrug. “Done.”
“And you are not to touch me.”
He laughed.
“You think this is funny? That you can—that you think you can kiss me whenever you want?”
“I think you demand too much.” His eyes went cold. “Too many conditions, provisos, stipulations, whatever. Come with me or don’t.”
A tremor went through her. Going with him was wrong. It was crazy. It was—
“Norton! The keys, man. Or I’ll take them from you.”
The keys arced through the darkness and into Lucas’s waiting hands.
“Decision time, amada. I’m leaving, with you or without you.”
Her feet wouldn’t move. Lucas shrugged and got behind the wheel.
“Even if—even if I wanted to go with you,” she said, rushing the words together, “I couldn’t until—until I got my things.”
“What things?”
“Clothes. My toothbrush. Things,” she said, hating the desperation in her voice.
“I will arrange for you to get everything you need when we reach my country.”
It was the kind of arrogant response she should have expected.
“My handbag, then. My wallet. My ID. Won’t I need a passport?”
He laughed. Why wouldn’t he? Even she had to admit it was impossible to think that a woman traveling with this man would need anything so mundane.
“Last chance,” he said, reaching over the console and opening the passenger door. “Yes or no?”
Alyssa ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips.
He made it sound as if she had a choice but they both knew she didn’t. She hated him as much for that as for kissing her, for making her dizzy with his kisses…
The sound of the Caddy’s powerful engine idling in the still night filled her with dread. Her heart bumped into her throat.
Quickly, knowing that thinking about it too long might be a mistake, she slid into the passenger seat and shut the door after her.
“Just be sure you understand one thing.” Her voice trembled and she hated showing that little sign of weakness. “If there were any other way, I wouldn’t go with you.”
“Duly noted, amada,” he said, with a tight smile, “if not fully believed.”
God, she wanted to launch herself across the console and hit that square, impertinent jaw but that would have been stupid and she knew it. Instead she looked out the window, saw Thaddeus’s incredulous face and then the car was moving forward, gaining speed as it left the house and the attorney behind.
“Alyssa?”
Lucas sounded so calm. Had he realized this was all a terrible mistake? Was he human after all? Was he going to apologize for how he’d behaved?
“Yes?”
“Is there a better way to get to the local airport than the road I was on this morning?”
So much for wishful thinking. Bitterness made her incautious.
“The road where you made an ass of yourself, you mean?”
He stood on the brakes and the car skidded to a halt in a cloud of dust. He swung toward her, his face cold and hard in the light from the dashboard.
“I will not tolerate insolence.”
“And what about what I will not tolerate? Your vicious assumptions. Your—your pathetic attempts at seduction…”
She was in his arms before she could protest. He took her mouth with his as he had those other times, hard, deep, fast. He kissed her as if the contract was valid and she was his.
Suddenly the shock of what was happening overwhelmed her.
Alyssa began to weep.
She cried without sound, tears trailing down her face. She tasted the salt of them on her lips and he must have, too, because all at once, his kiss changed.
His mouth softened, asked instead of demanded. He whispered her name against her lips.
And her bones felt as if they might liquefy.
No, she thought, I don’t want this.
“Si, amada,” he whispered, “you do.”
Alyssa had spoken the thought but it didn’t matter because Lucas was drawing her into his lap. She could feel the beat of his heart, the power of his erection.
And then she stopped thinking.
She leaned into him. Let his arms enfold her, his hard body take the weight of hers. She had stood alone for so long. For all of her life. To surrender to his strength, to give herself up to him…
A whimper broke from her throat.
His hands cupped her face. She covered them with hers and he tilted her head back, changed the angle of their kiss. Her lips parted, clung to his. His taste was on her tongue, clean and heart-stoppingly male.
Her body was singing.
Singing, and aching for more than this kiss. For more, oh God, more…
He whispered something in Spanish. She felt his mouth at the pulse point beating rapidly in her throat, felt his hands sweep down her body, beneath her leather jacket and skim her breasts, his thumbs barely brushing her nipples.
Sensation shot through her. She cried out, arched against him. Her head fell back and he bent his head, kissed her silk-covered nipple, closed his teeth lightly around it.
Another cry burst from her throat. She buried her hands in his hair and he said her name as he slid his hand down the back of her trousers, under the edge of her panties. His palm burned against her skin.
God!
She wanted this, wanted more, wanted—
Suddenly Lucas tore his mouth from hers. Her eyes flew open as he thrust her back into her own seat. She saw his face.
His cool, amused face.
“So much for my so-called pathetic attempts at seduction, chica. As for your response…Very nicely done. It’s everything a man could want in a woman. Sweet. Passionate.” The look of amusement fled. “And, unfortunately, a little too convincing. I cannot imagine a virgin would return a kiss with such fervor.”
Alyssa lunged at him, fist raised. Lucas wrapped his hand around hers, hard enough to make her wince.
“You can understand, then, if I inform you that your comments about seduction strike me as a tease rather than a complaint.”
She spat a word at him, and he laughed.
“Such language, amada, and from that supposedly innocent mouth.” His laughter faded; his eyes turned cold. “As for seduction…If you behave yourself, I might consider taking you to bed. But I wouldn’t marry you if yo
u were the last woman on earth. Is that clear?”
Alyssa yanked her hand free. “You’re despicable.”
“You break my heart.”
“You don’t have a heart!”
“All I want from you is help convincing my grandfather that this contract should never have been written, not for your sake or mine but for his. He is old and I love him, and I would not hurt him for the world. Do you understand?”
She wanted to make a clever response but her brain didn’t seem to be working.
Lucas Reyes was a mass of contradictions.
She’d accused him of having no heart but he did, when it came to his grandfather. But when it came to everything else…How could he kiss her and fake all that passion?
Better still, how could she have responded to him when she hated him?
“Now,” he said coolly, “I ask you again. Is there a better road to the airport?”
She wanted to tell him the road to hell was the best road for him, but she wasn’t stupid.
Lucas Reyes was the enemy but for now, it would be best not to take him on. Instead she kept her voice as toneless as possible.
“Take the left fork at the end of the driveway, then the first road after that.”
“And where will I end up, amada? On my way to the airport—or on my way to hell?”
The look on her face made Lucas want to laugh.
But he didn’t.
Reading Alyssa McDonough’s thoughts was easy—but there was little to laugh about tonight.
His grandfather lay ill. He was bringing home a woman he distrusted. Who knew what was truth and what was deceit? Finding the answer seemed as elusive as chasing moonlight.
And, come to think of it, how was he going to get home? His plane would not be waiting for him. He’d sent it to New York, hours ago.
Lucas’s jaw tightened. Madre de Dios, what a mess!
He dug out his cell phone, mentally crossed his fingers and flipped it open. Four transmission bars appeared. Four beautiful, big transmission bars. Quickly, before the gods of mischief could erase them, he punched in 4-1-1 and asked for the airport’s number.
Luck stayed with him.
The office was open. And yes, there was a plane available for rent and yes, its range was sufficient to get to New York City.
Lucas made the necessary arrangements, phoned his pilot in New York, told him to be ready to go as soon as they arrived at JFK. When he flipped the phone shut, he found Alyssa watching him.
“Do people always do as you tell them?”
It was a cool statement, not a question, and he knew better than to take her words as a compliment. Instead he leaned across the console, caught her face in his hand before she could pull away and took her mouth in a slow, deliberate kiss.
“Si,” he said softly, “always.”
Then he swung the car back onto the road and gunned the engine.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THEY left Texas in the small jet Lucas had rented, his hand firmly on Alyssa’s elbow as they boarded, as if he thought she might bolt at the last minute.
The truth was, she thought about it but stubbornness and pride kept her moving up the steps and into the plane.
Backing down now would have been a sign of weakness.
In New York, they boarded his own plane. She’d expected something like the jet they’d flown from Texas, a small, handsome craft with a handful of seats.
She should have known better.
Lucas’s plane was enormous, a sleek silver bird outfitted in glove-soft black and beige leather.
Though she’d lived in New York long enough to know that men who headed up international corporations often traveled in corporate jets and saw them not simply as perks but as necessities, she refused to think that of Lucas.
The way he treated her, his easy assumption that he could walk into her life and take it over and now the luxurious plane, even the presence of a steward, seemed proof that the Spanish prince saw himself as better than the rest of the world.
She didn’t like this man. Didn’t trust him. That she’d been susceptible to his advances didn’t just embarrass her, it angered her.
He’d sensed how naive she was and made the most of it.
Not anymore, she thought as the steward served dinner on fine china that bore a royal crest.
Now, she had a plan.
Eating the meal set before her was part of it. Maybe the steak and salad, the coffee and brie and water biscuits were the equivalent of breaking bread with the enemy but she had to maintain her strength.
Lucas would be a formidable opponent in what she increasingly saw as a complex chess game.
He had made the first move and he thought he had command of the board.
He didn’t.
As soon as they reached Spain, she’d tell him he had three days to settle this thing. That was more than enough time to convince an old man that he stood to lose more than he’d gain by interfering in two lives.
Playing God was never a good idea, and Prince Felix Reyes had to understand that.
Three days. Then she was going home.
One year of law school hadn’t turned her into a legal hotshot but even a novice could see that this contract had holes big enough to swallow a truck.
She’d go to New York, see her former professors. Surely one would give her the advice she needed.
Already, she could see the bare bones outline of how to fight the sale of the ranch.
Aloysius’s body had wasted away. Toward the end, so had his mind. Who knew how long that had been going on? Had he been mentally capable when he’d sold the ranch? When he’d agreed to an unenforceable stipulation?
Maybe Felix Reyes had lied to him about what he was signing. Maybe Thaddeus had gone along with it, or maybe he’d simply been bowled over by a high-powered international law firm.
The bottom line was that the contract didn’t make sense. Why would Felix Reyes have wanted such played-out land? Why would he have wanted her for his grandson?
Lucas could surely have all the women he wanted.
Alyssa finished her coffee, put down the delicate cup and saucer and glanced over at him, seated in a leather armchair across the aisle. His meal lay untouched on the table in front of him. His hands were wrapped around a heavy crystal glass that held an inch of amber liquid; his face was to the window.
Despite what she knew of him, what she thought of him, her pulse gave an unwelcome little kick.
He was so incredibly beautiful.
Tall. Dark. Masculine. And, ever since they’d changed planes in New York, quiet and brooding.
In fact, to her relief, he’d ignored her. He spent most of the time on the plane’s satellite phone, speaking sometimes in English, sometimes in Spanish, his voice never loud enough for her to pick up more than a couple of words but enough so she knew his conversations were about his grandfather.
She almost found herself feeling sorry for him. She’d even come close to leaning over and—and what? Telling him everything would be okay? Offering her compassion?
What compassion had he offered her? He was a coldhearted, manipulative tyrant, clearly accustomed to having his own way.
Lucas turned and looked at her. His eyes were very dark; the bones in his cheeks seemed more pronounced than usual. She could see that he was hurting…
Alyssa broke eye contact.
Three days. A second more was to court disaster.
In midafternoon, the jet began a smooth descent through a bright blue sky, touched down on a long ribbon of concrete and finally braked to a gentle stop.
Green meadows bracketed the landing strip; on a distant rise, a herd of horses stood silhouetted against a lush backdrop of leafy trees.
A black Rolls-Royce sped along a parallel road and stopped; two men in coveralls began wheeling a mobile staircase to the plane as the steward entered the cabin and opened the outside door.
“Welcome home, Your Highness,” he said pleasantly.
&nbs
p; Alyssa rose to her feet. So did Lucas, who clasped her shoulder as she started past him.
“Wait.”
An imperial command. Did he think she was one of his subjects? She shrugged off his hand, brushed past the steward…
And almost tumbled into the yawning gap between the plane and the mobile stairs.
A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back.
“Madre de Dios,” Lucas said sharply, “what in hell were you doing?”
“I thought—the door—I thought—”
She was shaking like a leaf. So was he. Another step and…
Lucas cursed, turned Alyssa to him and gathered her tightly in his arms. He half expected her to resist but she collapsed against him, heart pounding against his, breath quick and shallow.
“Lyssa.” He shut his eyes, buried his face in her hair. “It’s my fault. The stairs—”
Alyssa shuddered. “There were no stairs.”
“Si. I know.”
“It was my fault entirely, sir,” the steward said in a shaken whisper. “If I hadn’t opened the door—”
“No, it’s not your doing, Emilio.” Lucas cupped Alyssa’s face and lifted it so he could look into her eyes. “Emilio knows I always want the door opened as soon as possible. I like the smell of home. The grass. The sea beyond the hills. The horses.” Dios, her face was so pale! “Now you will think I am a crazy man, admitting I love the smell of horses.”
His attempt at calming her seemed to work. A hint of color rose in her cheeks and she gave a choked laugh.
“The only crazy person here is me, trying to walk on air.”
The steps locked into place with a metallic thud.
“We can toss a coin to decide the winner later.” Lucas’s smile faded. “Are you all right, chica?”
“Yes. I’m—I’m fine.”
Not true. He could feel her heart doing the paso doble and she was still trembling. Letting go of her was out of the question, and he swung her up into his arms.
“Lucas. Really. I can walk.”
“Si. So can I. Humor me, amada. Put your arms around my neck and let me carry you to the car.”
He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead he crossed the grassy ribbon between the landing strip and the shiny black Rolls-Royce waiting on the blacktop. The driver saluted.
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