At the Spaniard's Pleasure

by Jacqueline Baird

  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.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘WHAT 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 r
efused 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.

  Rather than the lying, lecherous apology of a man she had called Nick. He was a hero; he had very probably saved her life or saved her from a beating. She knew everything he had done he had done for her, to protect her name and her reputation.

  With the exception of the sex, she amended wryly, but Nick was a powerful, virile man; he had asked and she had agreed. And where was it written that a hero had to be celibate?

  Night after sleepless night, Liza had been tormented by the memory of his lovemaking, her body hot and aching with frustration. She had let Nick think she was sophisticated about sex. She had been determined not to fall in love with him, because she was afraid of being hurt, convinced he was not the type for commitment. But now she was haunted by the thought that perhaps they could have had more than a brief affair if she had been more honest with him.

  Very soon she would find out… Over the past three days Liza had spent hours preparing a speech of apology and thanks, and she was determined to deliver it in person to Nick if humanly possible; as for the rest, she could hope…

  ‘I’m fine.’ Flashing her mother a brief smile, Liza settled back in her seat, but her stomach was churning with fear and anticipation. In a few hours she would be back in Nick’s family home, and hopefully see the man himself.

  Seated in the small sitting room that Anna Menendez kept as her own, the greetings over, and having finished the tea that had been offered, Liza took little part in the conversation.

  Her mother and Anna were so obviously delighted in each other’s company she felt a bit like a third wheel. She was dying to ask if Nick was around, but did not dare.

  ‘This must be boring for you, Liza.’ Anna smiled across at her from her position ne
xt to her mother on a comfortable sofa. ‘Why don’t you go and freshen up, have a rest, or look around? It’s a nice, sunny day.’

  ‘Well, if you don’t mind.’ Liza got to her feet with alacrity; perhaps she might bump into Nick if he was here, or subtly question Manuel as to Nick’s whereabouts. In her present state of nervous tension, anything was better than sitting doing nothing.

  ‘You are in the blue room again, Liza. Manuel has already taken your luggage up. You run along; Pamela and I have a lot of gossip to catch up on.’ The two older women shared a smile. ‘We will see you back here about seven for drinks. Dinner is at eight. I thought a quiet meal for your first evening. There will only be the four of us, that is if Niculoso ever arrives. I have hardly seen him in the past few weeks,’ Anna confided with a slight grimace.

  Liza’s heart missed a beat and she had to battle down a blush at the mention of his name. ‘Well, he is a very busy man,’ she murmured. But the uppermost thought in her mind was that she would see Nick tonight…

  ‘So he keeps telling me, but aren’t we all?’ Anna turned to smile at Pam.

  Knowing she would not be missed, Liza said, ‘If you will excuse me,’ and headed for the door.

  With her blonde hair swept up into a twist on the top of her head, a few stray tendrils teased around her face and neck to soften the style, Liza donned a blue silk sheath dress. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror; spaghetti straps supported the bodice and the fabric skimmed her shapely figure to end just above her knees. Not bad, she told herself, and, slipping her feet into high-heeled sandals, she was ready.

  She drew a deep, steadying breath, and left the room. Manuel directed her into the small sitting room, and she stopped. Nick was there and pouring the drinks, impeccably attired in full evening dress, his international-playboy image on display. His awesome masculine presence took her breath away, and for a moment she was unable to think of anything over the pounding of her heart.