At the Spaniard's Pleasure (8 page)

Nick jerked up, his lean face strong and taut, and for a split-second Liza saw a flash of raw fury in his dark eyes, and then his sensuous mouth curved in a faint smile.

‘A stickler for propriety, Liza, and this from a girl who had no qualms about rolling around with a man in the stable of this same house,' he drawled sardonically.

All Liza's confidence and any attempt at sexual sophistication shrivelled and died. She felt as if he had knifed her in the stomach, the pain was so intense she could not look
at him. Nick had never changed his mind about her. He never would, and she had foolishly thought she could have a holiday romance.

Romance! What a joke. Sex with her was just a game to him. A game he wanted to win. The same as he won everything else he set out to achieve.

Nick saw the hurt in her eyes, before she turned her head away, and he immediately wished the mocking words unsaid. He remembered his anger at finding Liza in the arms of that boy, but he had no right to throw it back at her, and especially not when he was lying naked in bed with her. How crass was that? And totally out of character for him. For once in his life he was ashamed of himself. He admired women and prided himself on his courteous treatment of any woman he became involved with.

Was he going mad? No, it was Liza; she was driving him crazy. His usual cool control deserted him as soon as he got anywhere near her. Volatile emotions were not something he had ever suffered from and it was all her fault. His dark eyes swept over her near-naked figure and he almost groaned.

Pride and anger coming to the fore, Liza made herself look at him. ‘I was sixteen and foolish,' she snapped, and for a second she thought he winced. No, not the mighty Nick, she told herself. ‘But I have matured and learnt better over the years.' Head high, her eyes blazing, she added, ‘You obviously have not. You are still the arrogant, chauvinistic devil you always were. You still ride roughshod over any woman if it suits you.' And with that she flung her legs over the edge of the bed.

There was no way Nick was letting her get away with that; his own anger rising, he grasped her around the waist and hauled her back against him. ‘Damn it, Liza.' He fell back on the bed with a squirming Liza lashing out at him. He spun her around until she was spreadeagled on top of him. ‘Stop it, woman,' he growled as her hands scratched his neck and, grasping a hank of her hair, he twisted it
around his wrist and pulled her head down to claim her mouth with his. He was not letting her go until her temper cooled. So he kept her where he wanted her, until he felt the fight go out of her, and only then did he let her come up for air and end the kiss.

‘Call me all the names you like, Liza,' he said roughly, planting a gentle kiss on her throat, ‘but you are wrong— I don't override all women.' And he kissed her again, sliding his hands down her spine and holding her close to his mighty body, his hard body… He tilted back her head, and saw the shimmer of sensual awareness she could not hide, and as he brought his hand slowly up her thigh he felt her tremble.

‘In fact I rather like a woman overriding me,' he drawled throatily, and kissed her again. The next time he set her free and murmured, ‘Care to try it?' Her hands were on his shoulders and his were around her thighs as he lowered her onto him.

Liza gasped out loud, her head thrown back, as he filled her so completely she thought she would faint with the pleasure. She moved with unconscious sensuality. She had never felt anything like it. Nick's hands slid up her spine and urged her forward and he captured the peak of one perfectly shaped breast in his mouth, and her anger, her resentment no longer existed. Only the man sheathed deep inside her.

A long time later Nick chuckled, a deep, throaty sound. ‘I hate to tell you, sweetheart, but it is almost noon.' He heard her choked gasp, and, dropping a light kiss on her swollen lips, he swung his legs off the bed and pulled on his robe.

‘Oh, my God!' Mouth open in shock, Liza could do nothing when Nick bent down and caught her to him, and claimed a long kiss. Instinctively she splayed her palms on his broad chest, drowning in the incredible sweetness of the sensual but surprisingly tender kiss.

When he released her Nick saw the heated longing in
her eyes. He knew perfectly well how he affected her. But he straightened up before he gave in to the temptation to join her in the bed again.

‘Don't worry, there is no hurry, Liza. Lunch is about one and I'll meet you downstairs.' He noted the high colour in her lovely face. ‘And don't be embarrassed. You are a very welcome guest in this house, a family friend, and I promise you will enjoy your stay.'

The kiss, the endearment and his attempt at reassurance warmed Liza's heart, and, as she relaxed slightly, her full lips curved in a smile. ‘You'd better or I might request a refund.'

His stunning dark eyes glinted devilishly down at her. ‘A refund—no… A replay—yes.' And he headed for the door, leaving her to interpret that as she wished.

Half an hour later Liza stood and surveyed her reflection in the cheval glass. She had swept her hair back, and knotted a white silk scarf around it. A touch of lipstick and a moisturiser for her skin was all the make-up she needed. She had opted to wear a crisp white shirt and navy trousers, a matching leather belt accentuated her narrow waist and on her feet she wore soft hide pumps. Yes, she would do… She was a bit early but she could not wait to see Nick again. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure she was not dreaming. Niculoso Menendez was her lover and she felt like shouting it to the heavens.

Instead she made her way along the hall towards the kitchen. Anna Menendez had usually kept lunch a pretty flexible affair, and she doubted anything would have changed. Five minutes later Manuel was showing her into the dining room, and she saw to her surprise there were several other guests there.

She hesitated just inside the door, suddenly overcome by nerves. She couldn't see Nick anywhere. She scanned the room again and almost turned and ran when she realised he wasn't there, and the other guests were all expensively attired, the men in suits and the women in designer clothes.

When she was a child visiting in the height of summer, lunch had been a casual affair and always eaten alfresco. Her own common sense should have told her in the middle of winter the dining room was a more likely venue. Except she had no common sense around Nick, and in her haste to meet up with him again she hadn't thought. But Nick could have warned her. With all these people he must have known lunch was going to be a formal affair.

She saw Señora Menendez, and when she had recovered her poise sufficiently Liza made her way towards her. After all, she was here at the lady's invitation. A family friend, as Nick had said. No one knew they were lovers, and if she found the thought vaguely disturbing she hid it from the woman she was approaching.

Liza had always liked Nick's mother, a small, dark, very pretty woman, rather like Audrey Hepburn she had always thought. Today Anna Menendez was wearing what was obviously a Chanel suit. The other guests consisted of two elderly couples whom Liza had never seen before, and two young couples.

She felt rather underdressed and she could kill Nick for not telling her what to expect, and leaving her alone to face strangers. But with instant death to Nick, her nemesis, not an option…Liza straightened her shoulders and with all the poise she could muster she said, ‘Hello, Anna.'

‘Liza, how wonderful to see you again, it has been far too long.' And suddenly Liza was being kissed on both cheeks and enveloped in a cloud of very expensive French perfume. For the next ten minutes she was subjected to a flurry of questions about her own mother and her work, and finally another invitation.

‘Your mother is coming at the end of March for Easter. We have not seen each other since she married again, but apparently Jeff has agreed to look after the business, so I am really looking forward to her stay,' Anna told her. ‘You must come with her, we can have a real girlie break, shopping and gossiping. You must not be a stranger again. I
was really angry with Niculoso for taking off to Lanzarote yesterday when he had promised faithfully to be in Granada for his Uncle Thomas's celebration. But I totally forgive him because he found you.' And, lifting a small, elegant hand, she patted Liza's cheek.

‘It is great to be here. And I am sorry to hear you have been unwell,' and, studying the older woman's face, Liza was struck by the fact Anna looked positively blooming, her dark eyes, so like her son's, were clear and twinkling merrily.

Anna gave her a most peculiar look. ‘Did Nick tell you that?'

‘Well, not exactly,' Liza had to amend honestly when she thought about what Nick had actually said last night. But he had known perfectly well Liza had jumped to the conclusion his mother was ill, and played on her sympathetic nature. ‘He said you had been a bit down, but you look great.'

‘Oh, he probably meant the small chest infection I had a couple of weeks ago, but I am fine now, never better. But you know what men are, always exaggerating. Yesterday he left me a note saying he had to attend an emergency meeting with Carl Dalk and took off in the jet to Lanzarote. I doubt if it was really that vital and I expected Nick to bring Carl back with him. But instead he brought you, dear, for which I am very grateful. You didn't happen to meet Carl, did you?'

Liza shook her head. ‘No.' Her smooth brow creased in a puzzled frown at Anna's revelation.

‘Maybe that's just as well. He is very handsome and very wealthy, but what those two get up to together is anybody's guess. I know Carl still encourages Nick in the extreme sports, long after the pair of them should have given up such things.' She shook her dark head. ‘Still, it is lovely to have you here, and you will come back with your mother?'

Liza smiled down at Anna, feeling slightly better. ‘It is great to be here,' she responded. ‘As for March, I will try.'
But as she said it she knew she would not. Her affair, if that was what it was, with Nick was for a limited period, and she would probably never see Anna again after this.

In fact, the more she thought about it away from Nick's disturbing presence, the more her suspicions were aroused. She was beginning to wonder why Nick had been so eager for her to come to Spain with him for the party. Was it just her sex appeal, as he said? Hardly likely, she thought ruefully, because she'd never thought she had much. Plus Nick's story to his mother about an urgent meeting in Lanzarote with this Carl chap didn't ring true. Nick had spent almost the whole day and the evening with her. He could hardly have meant the two-minute visit to the building site…could he…?

‘Is Carl Dalk in the construction industry?' Liza asked Anna.

‘No.' Anna grinned, and stretched out an arm to show Liza a brilliant diamond bracelet. ‘This is Carl's business, diamonds, but I get the impression from Nick all is not—'

Nick walked up behind Liza just in time to hear Carl's name mentioned.

‘Ah, Mamma. You have met Liza,' he interrupted quickly, cutting out whatever his mother was going to say. ‘Now, I want to steal her away from you for a moment to introduce her to Uncle Thomas.'

Liza tensed as his large hand curved around her upper arm in a firm grip. Nice of him to arrive at last, but what had got into him, interrupting the conversation like that? She shot him a puzzled sidelong glance, her resentment rising when she realised he was dressed in a perfectly tailored silver-grey suit, white shirt and silk tie. He looked magnificent and his assured masculinity took her breath away, but when her gaze reached his darkly handsome face she saw he was smiling but the humour didn't reach his eyes; instead his dark gaze was veiled, masking all expression.

Anna Menendez, at the age of sixty, was nobody's fool.
‘You do that.' Her small head swivelled between the tall, beautiful girl and her huge son. The tension between the two was palpable and she knew her only son too well not to realise he was up to something. If it was what she thought it was she could not be more pleased, but at thirty-five Niculoso was very set in his ways. He had the same charm and charisma as her late husband—more, in fact. But he also had an arrogant, cynical edge where women were concerned that his father, as a happily married man, had never suffered from. ‘But I will speak to you later, Niculoso.'

Two pairs of identical dark eyes clashed, and Nick was the first to look away.

Seeing the look between mother and son, Liza knew something was going on here she did not understand. ‘Wait a minute,' she began, turning a frowning gaze on Nick. ‘I—'

‘Later,' Nick said smoothly, tightening his grip on Liza's arm. ‘My uncle is dying to meet you.' And he propelled her across the room in front of him. She looked stunning, and her behind in those trousers was doing wicked things to his libido.

Nick could not believe it! He had never known a woman in his life take so little time to get dressed, and he had known plenty. It was barely an hour ago when he had left Liza in bed, for heaven's sake! It never entered his head she would get to his mother before he did. Heaven knew what his mother had said. But he had a damn good idea he was going to find out, and not just from Liza, but from his mother as well. Not something he was looking forward to. He doubted the man was ever born who could hide anything successfully from his own mother.

Standing at Nick's side, Liza silently fumed,
His uncle was dying to meet her?
Since when? she wondered acidly. She didn't believe it for a minute. Then, running over the conversation with Anna, she suddenly stiffened, shooting Nick an angry glance. ‘You…' She tried to pull her arm
free. He had not wanted her talking to his mother, that much was obvious.

‘I said later,' Nick growled between gritted teeth, and then in a complete turn-about, charm oozing from every pore, ‘Uncle Thomas,' he addressed the small man in front of them, ‘I want you to meet Liza; she is the daughter of Pamela Summers, Mamma's English friend.'