At the Spaniard's Pleasure

by Jacqueline Baird

  ‘Why the hell should I?’ Liza was hurting and suspicious and furious with herself for being such a push-over.

  A black brow lifted sardonically. ‘Because this is a celebration, remember, fifty years married, and you are not going to cause a scene. Though how any man could stand a woman for fifty years is beyond me,’ he bit out cynically.

  Hectic colour tinged her face. ‘Me, cause a scene. Your poor mother—’

  ‘Enough,’ Nick exploded. He was not used to having his actions questioned by anyone, and certainly not by a slip of a girl. Acting on impulse, he swung her off her feet and carried her through the kitchen, oblivious to the astonished looks of Manuel and the staff, and didn’t stop until he reached her room, and flung her on the bed.

  ‘Right, Liza, let’s have it,’ he demanded roughly.

  For a stunned moment Liza thought he was referring to sex. Her face paled, and then a swift tide of red suffused her cheeks. ‘Why, you—’

  ‘My, but you do have a one-track mind…’ Nick drawled mockingly, the knowing light in his deep brown eyes telling her he had read her mind.

  ‘Hardly surprising around the Spanish Stud,’ she flung back.

  ‘Ah, Liza,’ he glanced down at her, viewing her angry expression with an indulgent smile, ‘you should not believe everything you read in the gossip columns.’ He grinned smugly. ‘Though I didn’t hear you complaining this morning—quite the contrary.’

  His impregnable confidence in his masculine prowess made her temper rise to boiling point, and, leaping off the bed, she marched up to him.

  ‘I am glad you think it is funny.’ She poked him in the chest with a finger. ‘You conniving bas—’ Her wrist was caught in an iron grip and the insults stuck in her throat.

  ‘No one talks to me like that.’ Nick’s hard jawline clenched and glittering black eyes scanned her angry face. ‘Especially not a woman of your kind,’ he told her icily.

  ‘My kind?’ Liza repeated, a terrible coldness taking the place of her anger that he could be so callous.

  ‘You know what I mean, Liza. I was not your first lover and I certainly won’t be your last, though if your overreaction is anything to go by your past lovers must have been pretty ineffectual. You were as up for it as I was from the moment we met again. Why the outrage now?’ he demanded with a cruelty she would not have thought him capable of. ‘Simply because you found yourself in a stable that held a memory of a past indiscretion?’

  Colour tinged her cheeks; she did not need to be reminded of her helpless surrender to his sexual expertise, and certainly not of her juvenile reaction to him years ago. ‘That is a filthy thing to say…but about what I would expect from a man of your morals.’ And, blue eyes flashing flames, she stared furiously up into Nick’s face. ‘But this isn’t about sex,’ she said, fighting to retain her temper. ‘There is something going on here that I don’t understand. Who the hell is Carl Dalk? Your mother thought you had an urgent meeting with him yesterday, and I can’t believe you would lie to your own mother but you told me you had just come from the airport when we met, and you spent the whole day with me. I am not conceited enough to think a man like you would dump an emergency meeting for me.’ Once Liza started listing her suspicions she could not stop. ‘Your mother thought this Carl chap was coming back with you.’ She fixed angry, assessing eyes on his hard face. ‘And another thing, last night you let me think your mum was ill, and yet when I met your mum she said she has never felt better in her life. Don’t take me for a fool, Nick.’

  Nick absorbed her flushed and angry face with arrogant detachment. He had known it was coming but he had hoped to divert her. Liza’s mention of Carl was a little too close for comfort. Narrowed dark eyes met brilliant blue and he was impressed—not many people stood up to him or even tried. He supposed he should be flattered that at least Liza did not want to think him capable of lying to his own mother, but what to tell her?

  ‘Watch it, Liza, your paranoia is showing,’ he tried to tease, but she met his attempt at humour with an elegantly elevated brow. She was an intelligent woman and wanted answers, Nick recognised, and humour wasn’t going to do it for her.

  ‘Just answer the question,’ Liza demanded.

  ‘Carl Dalk is an old friend of mine and, contrary to what you assumed, I did speak with him yesterday afternoon, after I left you at your hotel.’

  ‘Oh.’ Liza supposed that was possible, but it didn’t strike her as very urgent if he could wait all day to meet the man. ‘Not that much of an emergency, then,’ she prompted defensively, beginning to wonder if maybe he was right and she was being paranoid…

  ‘My, my, Liza, you do have a suspicious mind in that very lovely body. As for Mamma, I told you she was feeling down.’ He shrugged a shoulder. ‘You drew your own conclusion.’

  ‘And you let me!’ Liza exclaimed, amazed at the sheer gall of the man. ‘You dragged me a thousand miles to sle…to Spain…’ She stuttered to a stop, having almost said to sleep with me and stared at him, scanning his strong dark features, the devastating face, looking for some guilt… She found none. Instead to her shame her anger faded beneath the mesmerising effect of his powerful presence. She shook her head; she didn’t understand. ‘Why?’

  ‘First, I don’t recall any force involved. You accepted my mother’s invitation, before I told you she had been ill. I just helped reinforce your decision when, like a typical woman, you looked like changing your mind,’ Nick contradicted silkily as two strong hands curved around her shoulders. ‘As to the why—because I wanted you; it is that simple.’ His dark head lowered, his lips feathering across hers, and she trembled as the pressure of his kiss deepened, the hard heat of his mouth burning on her own.

  ‘No,’ Liza groaned in denial, but couldn’t prevent the familiar heat igniting in her traitorous body.

  Nick stifled a groan of pent-up desire and ended the kiss. He could not tell her the whole truth, not if he wanted to keep her safe and in his bed, and suddenly he discovered keeping her in his bed was becoming of vital importance to him. The enormity of the thought shocked him.

  Defence mechanisms clicking in, Nick stilled then eased away slightly. ‘OK.’ Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed and her cheeks were hot with colour. He couldn’t resist so he nuzzled the elegant line of her throat, heard her soft moan and sensed her fluctuating inclinations as expertly as he read the stock market.

  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 e
xplanation 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 parting 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.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  STANDING 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 mea
n 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.