He half hoped she would run. It would be nice to think she wasn’t trying to use him this once, especially when his memories were so raw. After she’d left him in his office he’d gone for a walk in the grounds. Then he’d sat under the arbor and hoped his mind would quiet. It hadn’t.
When she’d appeared, stealing through the night like a wraith, he’d watched her curiously. And then she’d dropped her clothes, like the calculating slut she was.
And, like it or not, her striptease had made him harder than the stone this pool was built out of. Which had no doubt been her intention. She’d played at asking him to leave, but he hadn’t bought her act. The truth had emerged, of course, when she’d said she’d be grateful if he would sell her Layton International.
She didn’t move as he stopped in front of her. He was both disappointed and pleased. He hadn’t intended to touch her ever again, but that had been before he’d watched her strip down and caress herself.
Madre de Dios, he wanted to bury himself inside her right this moment. Would she be as hot and tight as he remembered?
But, no, he would not give in to his body’s demands. He would, however, prove to them both that she was a mercenary bitch who would do anything to get what she wanted.
“What are you doing?” she asked, still clasping her knees, her eyes wide. He didn’t miss how her gaze dropped, shot back to his face. Little Miss Innocent.
The water caressed his hip bones, the evidence of her effect on him hidden beneath the surface of the pool. If she stood, however, she would see he was more than ready for her.
“I am giving you a chance to show your gratitude.”
“You haven’t given me anything to be grateful for,” she shot back, her facade cracking.
“What would you like, Rebecca? La Belle Amelie?”
Her head dipped as she turned her gaze from him. Calculating, no doubt. “I won’t sleep with you for a hotel.”
“What if that is my price?” He knew she would break. She was simply trying to get more out of him first.
Blue eyes gleamed as she met his cool stare. “You’re saying you will give me my hotel if I let you make love to me?”
Alejandro chuckled. So predictable. “What I wish to do to you right now has nothing to do with love.”
She blinked. “How do I know you mean it, Alejandro? How do I know this isn’t part of your game?”
“So you will accept if I am serious?”
She looked away again. “I didn’t say that.”
He reached for her hand. The contact of skin on skin sizzled into his brain, made his manhood leap in anticipation. She did not resist when he twined his fingers with hers and pulled her toward him.
Of course she didn’t.
He took her into deeper water without looking back at her. When he stopped and turned, the crests of her nipples were just below the surface.
She chewed her bottom lip, watched him warily.
“I will give you your hotel, Rebecca. You need only give me your body. Surely this is a fair trade?”
A moment later, her chin tilted up. Ah, so the imperious heiress had arrived.
“I want it all. I want a chance to buy back my stock.”
Anger simmered deep inside though he smiled to cover it. He’d known she was playing him, hadn’t he?
“I will consider it.”
She took a deep breath. He had her now. She would not pass up the opportunity. If he’d told her yes, she would know he was lying. But if he offered to consider it, she would believe he could still be persuaded. And she would turn all her considerable charms toward convincing him.
He waited almost eagerly for her next move.
“I’m leaving,” she said, turning away from him and stroking toward the closest ladder.
Not at all what he’d expected, but that only made the game more fun.
Rebecca swam for the ladder. What was she thinking, telling him she wanted everything if she gave in to his demands? She had absolutely no intention of making love to him for a hotel, or company stock, or anything else. She would not be brought down to his level. He believed her to be mercenary. Though a rebellious part of her wanted very much to be in his arms again, she would not give in to the temptation. Every nasty thing he’d ever thought about her would be justified in his mind if she did.
She reached for the ladder, put her foot on the first rung. Strong arms twined around her torso and pulled her against his body.
Oh, dear heaven, his aroused body.
The hard length of him was hot against her backside. In fact, every last inch of his skin seared her as he held her close. His fingers snaked across her belly; his other hand slid up to cup her breast, tested the weight of it in his palm.
She shivered with longing.
“I will give you the hotel, Rebecca. I will consider the rest, though perhaps we will need a repeat performance or two to persuade me.”
His breath was hot in her ear, teasing her, tempting her with remembered bliss. It wasn’t fair to want this man so much in spite of all he’d done, to turn to mush the instant he touched her.
She knew he only wanted her because she was here, because she was female, and because he knew she was vulnerable to him. She’d proven that when she’d let him lead her into the pool. If she’d truly wanted to get away she would have gone into the house the instant he entered the water.
She was an idiot, a lonely needy girl who still wanted to be loved by someone in her life. Was it asking too much to want what so many other people had?
What Alejandro had had with his wife and baby girl?
But, no, it was an illusion. Everything with him was an illusion, and she wouldn’t allow herself to believe it ever again.
But he’s hurting. He lost a precious child and he’s so very different because of it. He needs you.
She gritted her teeth against the onslaught. No.
“I can’t do it,” she said, as much to convince herself as him. “I don’t want to.”
It was a lie, though she prayed he would not figure out the truth.
Alejandro turned her in his arms, pressed her against the side of the pool. The water was over her head here, so she had no choice but to cling to him. His dark head dipped down, his lips ghosting over her cheek, touching the shell of her ear.
“You want me, querida. You cannot deny this.”
“I don’t,” she said desperately.
“Not even for your precious hotel?”
She started to shake her head, realized her mistake when her mouth grazed his jaw and he turned his head, his lips capturing hers. She moaned—but was it protest or acquiescence?—as her head fell back and her mouth opened beneath his. Whatever the reason, he took advantage of the lapse to tangle his tongue with hers. Wild, hot, sucking—their mouths devoured each other. Flame licked up her belly, blossomed between her thighs.
How could she possibly want this man after all he’d done? His loneliness called out to her, connected with her own inner feelings of isolation, tempted her in spite of her best intentions.
His hands slid down her buttocks, over her thighs, lifted them until she wrapped her legs around his waist, the hard length of him pressing against her center. Her body remembered all too well how wonderful it had been between them. He’d left his impression on every nerve, every cell. Five years had not been enough to erase it.
Even as she shuddered, part of her brain remained lucid, sent the message to drop her legs, to end this before it went too far. He lifted them again, urging her to open to him. He gave her no chance to refuse as his thumb glided between her thighs, found the hot, wet center of her.
Rebecca gasped. It had been so long …
Alejandro pulled back, gazed down at her with an expression that contained both surprise and confusion, as if he too were a little rattled by how quickly the situation was spiraling out of control.
“You are so hot for me. Like a flash fire.”
Something inside her was breaking—breaking all h
er control and shattering her best intentions. She had to find her balance, had to resist the siren pull of him on her soul and her body before it was too late.
Panic set in, demanded she slow this thing between them before she was completely lost, before she gave in and did exactly what she knew she shouldn’t do. Before she lost herself.
She blurted the first thing that came to mind. “La Belle Amelie.”
Alejandro’s expression froze. A second later, his smile turned cold. “Yes, of course. Ask me about your hotel.”
He didn’t stop touching her, didn’t give her a chance to react before he slipped a finger inside her, stroked her hot flesh. Sensation spun her higher, rocketed her toward the peak.
But Alejandro’s heart was no longer in it. She could see the disconnect in his expression. Icy anger had been replaced by cool neutrality. He was completely unaffected while she was close to meltdown.
Why had she mentioned the hotel? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Stop,” she said, fighting her body’s reaction, fighting him.
“Are you certain?” His thumb moved faster against her sensitive flesh, sent pleasure spiking.
“Yes, stop,” she gasped.
Too late. A wave of sensation crashed over her long-neglected senses, hurtling her into forgotten pleasure. Her body left her brain behind as she quivered and moaned in his arms.
Alejandro didn’t stop touching her, kept the pleasure spiking and cresting. His mouth touched hers. Softly, sweetly, completely at odds with the look he’d given her when she mentioned the hotel.
What was she thinking to have said such a thing?
“Alejandro,” she gasped when he nuzzled her ear, whispering something in Spanish. She had to explain, had to make him understand. “About the hotel—”
She felt him stiffen.
“Sí, the hotel,” he said, pushing away from her suddenly. Water dripped from his tanned skin, glistened over the molded perfection of his lips. Every line of his face was set in a hard angle as he glared at her. “Would you care to ask me for something else before you allow me into your body? Name your price, Rebecca, for surely I am desperate for you now and will give you anything you wish.”
Ice dripped from his words, freezing the languid warmth swimming in her veins.
“That’s not what I meant—”
“No, of course not. You meant to ask for more. How often have you lain on your back to get what you want from a man, I wonder?”
Rebecca shoved at his chest, forcing him to let her go. She gripped the ladder to keep from sliding beneath the surface. Her body still tingled from his touch, and yet she’d never felt more cold and alone in her life.
“How can you be so cruel?” she asked. “I’m not a cheap whore—”
“No, you are actually quite expensive—”
“Stop interrupting me!” she shouted, uncaring who might hear or come running to see what was going on. “You push and push, Alejandro, and you have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sucked in a breath to stop her angry tears before rushing on. “You’re a cruel, bitter man that no woman could ever love for very long! It’s no wonder your wife left you after Anya died—” Rebecca slapped a hand over her mouth.
A muscle ticked in his jaw as he glared at her. And yet something in his hard stare had changed. There had been a moment, when she’d said it, that she would have sworn he flinched. That defeated look crossed his features again, but only for a second.
“Oh, God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that.”
“Sí, you said exactly what you wanted to say.” He crowded her against the ladder so suddenly she gasped. “And now I say to you that you are a whore who will sleep with anyone, tell any lies, in order to win. You and I are much alike in our willingness to do whatever it takes, no?”
Her chest rose and fell, her emotions on the edge of a precipice. “I am nothing like you.”
“You only lie to yourself, Rebecca, because I know the truth.” He leaned down until his breath was hot on her cheek. “Remember when you think to fool me again that I am twice as ruthless as you. I will always win.”
Sadness gripped her as she looked at his proud, cold, hard features. He’d changed so much in five years. The life and spark of him was extinguished, leaving nothing but a shell. “How can you call it winning, Alejandro, if it makes you so miserable?”
Alejandro sat in the plush leather club chair and buckled his seat belt as the pilot announced they were next in line for takeoff. Moments later the Ramirez jet lifted off, banking to the right to give him a spectacular view of the financial district and, far beyond, the residential section where his villa lay. Where Rebecca still slept.
Was it only three hours ago he’d held her in his arms and watched the ecstasy on her face when she’d shattered? Dios, in that moment he’d strongly considered forsaking his vow not to bed her. She was so vibrant, so alive and warm—she pulsed with life in his arms.
And he’d wanted to feel it with her. After his divorce, he’d tried to lose himself in a string of women, to forget what he’d lost when he’d lost his child. Every encounter had been empty, cold. He’d thought he would feel relief when it was over, but he’d felt nothing. Nothing.
His heart was frozen. He’d felt nothing since Anya died. Until Rebecca had walked into his house and glared at him with all the hurt and loneliness she’d ever felt shining in her eyes.
He wanted to ruin her. And he wanted to possess her. It made no sense, though he usually prided himself on making decisions based on sound judgment.
It was simply a physical need. He’d almost forgotten she had an ulterior motive until she made the mistake of mentioning the hotel. Another moment, another hot kiss, and he’d have been so deep inside her he’d still be entangled in bed with her now, instead of flying to Dubai to meet with the government officials holding up his construction.
The bell dinged to signal the jet had reached ten thousand feet, but he made no move to turn his phone back on or to power up his laptop. She’d asked why he was miserable. It had shocked him. He’d wanted to deny it, but he hadn’t. He’d wanted to tell her she was terminated, to go back to New York and her life there. But the words hadn’t come. And she hadn’t moved, had merely clung to the ladder and stared at him with a pitying expression on her face.
Madre de Dios. He hadn’t felt so exposed since Anya’s doctors had stared at him with that same pitying expression.
He would not allow Rebecca to get inside his head. It shouldn’t even be a possibility! No, what he had to do was becoming clear. He had to take her into his bed, had to dominate her as completely personally as he had professionally.
It was simply another layer to his revenge. He would bed her, let her think she had him exactly where she wanted him, that she could manipulate him into giving her back her company, and then he would destroy her utterly.
Alejandro accepted a mineral water from a flight attendant as he opened his laptop. Decision made, he already felt a world better. Rebecca Layton would never defeat him. Never again.
Rebecca was quite relieved she didn’t have to face Alejandro over a breakfast table, though she was somewhat surprised to learn he’d flown to Dubai. But now—oh, thankfully—now she didn’t have to look at him and know he’d touched her so intimately, made her want to do things with him that in her right mind she’d never do again. She knew she couldn’t allow her sympathy for his loss, for the pain and anger she saw in his eyes, to divert her from her goals. She had to keep Layton International safe and whole, and she had to find a way to get it back. It was all that mattered.
He’d left her no instructions while he was gone, had not revealed a single element to his plan for her company. So until the man fired her, or she convinced him to let her buy back her stock, she had a business to run.
Rebecca frowned at her reflection. After last night she had no illusions Alejandro would ever allow her to buy back her stock. The only way to retrieve Layton International would be if Alejandr
o suddenly found himself in trouble and needed to sell some assets. And, according to all her contacts, that wasn’t happening. Ramirez Enterprises was a juggernaut. Not only that, but Alejandro would sell her company piece by piece if forced. He would never allow it to be bought whole, and certainly not by her.
Yet she couldn’t simply give up and cower like a whipped puppy.
After a quick shower and something to eat, she phoned Roger Cahill again. She still needed to know what had happened five years ago, if there was even the smallest chance she could prove to Alejandro that she hadn’t stolen his deal.
“Becca,” Roger said when his secretary put her through. “I was just thinking about you. It’s been a long time.”
“Yes. Thank you for the flowers you sent to Dad’s funeral.”
He cleared his throat. “Jackson was a good man. I’m sorry I won’t get to play a round of golf with him at St. Andrews this year.”
“I know he would have enjoyed it.”
“You mustn’t blame yourself for losing Layton International,” he said, launching straight into the heart of the matter. “When Jackson came to me, I told him it was a bad idea to stake so much on those Thailand resorts.”
Rebecca’s mouth twisted. If only the bank that had loaned him the money had felt the same. The bank they’d usually dealt with had refused, but her father found a bank that had been willing to take the risk. Too late now. “Yes, well, he loved to take on new projects, and he was certain he had a winner.”
Roger cleared his throat again. “So, what can I help you with, love?”
Though everyone had told her Ramirez Enterprises was invulnerable, she asked Roger if he knew of any weaknesses in Alejandro’s company.
“I understand there may be some trouble in Dubai,” Roger said. “Rumor has it they could lose the property they’ve sunk so much into. I have another client interested in property there, and they’ve heard rumblings.”
Rebecca tapped her chin with a fingernail. “There is an accusation of impropriety in the permits process, right? Do you know anything about that?”
Roger sighed. “There’s no evidence to support the charge thus far, but I know the man himself took the corporate jet over this morning. It must be something to get Ramirez to fly in.”
Hot Nights with a Spaniard (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases) Page 38