The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress (12 page)

When the doorbell rang, she stared at it as if he might be able to see her
frantic state.  It wasn’t the fact that he’d arrived to pick her up, she told herself as she gathered her courage and straightened her shoulders.  It was just that she hadn’t done this kind of thing in a long time.  It was all part of the job and everyone tonight would be on their best behavior.  She had to do this.  She could do this.  She would just stay on the opposite side of the room from Gaston and explain her work in a professional, concise and friendly manner, gaining support for her project, justifying Gaston’s faith in her. 

Filling her lungs as deeply as possible, she held her breath for a moment,
then released it all in a whoosh.  It was an old trick she’d learned to release the tension in her back and shoulders before a particularly difficult test or review. 

Somehow, the exercise didn’t work as well with Gaston standing on the other side of her apartment door.  He was like a looming lion, just waiting to pounce.

Which was a ridiculous image, she told herself.  She could handle him.

Right, just like she’d handled him the previous two times he’d pulled her into his arms? 

Okay, so she needed to stay out of his arms and just keep her distance.  Easy task since she’d be talking to as many board members as possible tonight.  No worries, she told herself, taking another deep breath and letting this one out a bit more slowly. 

The d
oorbell rang once more and she stepped forward to answer it.  She jumped when the man impatiently knocked on her door just as she swung it open.  “I’m here,” she almost snapped, but the vehemence in her voice stopped when she caught sight of the man in her doorway and she just stood there, staring. 

He looked….amazing, she thought.  His dark suit, the snowy white shirt and the grey silk tie just looked startlingly handsome on his muscular frame.  She wanted to reach out and touch him, to run her hand
s over the dark material and see his eyes light up with desire.  She wanted to smooth her hand down the shiny tie, all the way down to his waist and have him catch her wrist with a soft chuckle. 

She blinked and stepped backwards when she realized what she was actually doing, breathing deeply to try and control her mind.  “You look very handsome,” she said, her voice sounding lower than normal.

Gaston stepped into the apartment and the surprise on his face showed instantly.  “You’ve cleaned up,” he said, stating the obvious.

Elana looked around, smiling at the newly organized room. 
“Yep.  It looks much better, doesn’t it?”

“Much better,” he agreed, his eyes moving from all the extra space she’d uncovered and back to her.  She looked stunning tonight.  That dress made all of her curves look soft and sensuous and her hair pulled up like that revealed her
beautiful, elegant neck.  He wanted to ignore the party tonight and just hide her away from anyone who might get the wrong idea.  Ideas such as leaning down and kissing that sexy neck of hers.  Like feeling her body shivering as he trailed his fingers down her bare arm or slowly unzipping that dress and peeling it off of her incredible figure.  Damn, he wanted to find out what she was wearing underneath that dress.  Then he wanted to peel that off of her as well.

Gaston cleared his throat and looked into the kitchen.  It
appeared immaculate, if drab.  She might have cleaned up, but she hadn’t added that burst of color he remembered she used to surround herself with.  He’d always thought her colors were perfect.  None of them ever matched, but somehow, they always seemed to pull a room together. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked. 

She pulled a black, ruffled pashmina out of her closet and wrapped it around her arms, tossing one end over her shoulder.  “I think so,” she replied, opening her small, beaded black bag and checking to make sure she had her keys, lipstick and wallet.  “Yes.  I’m definitely ready to go.”

Gaston shifted slightly.  He had been ready to go.  Then she’d opened the damn door!  Now he wasn’t ready to go anywhere but into her bedroom.  Damn, she even smelled good!  What had she done today?  Why had he encouraged her to take the day off? 
She’d cleaned up and pulled things together.  She’d been a distraction before all of this but seeing her now, smelling her soft, delicate, feminine scent, he was having a hard time controlling his need to pick her up, toss her over his shoulder and carry her into her bedroom. 

He had to remind himself of the picture that her father had shown him all those years ago.  But as he walked behind her, that dress showing off her very round, very cute derriere, he was hard pressed to picture the image in his mind.  The man’s features had faded over time, and now those images were further repressed by his body
’s need and her presence which was complicating his whole plan. 

As she descended the stairs, turning the corner to take the next level, her eyes glanced up at him.  He caught the worried expression and something inside of him uncurled.  How could this woman who had tormented his mind and his body for so many years with her faithlessness, just with her appearance and the innocent look about her
, make him start to forget what she’d done?  She’d cheated on him with someone who wasn’t even remotely like him.  Why wasn’t he remembering that right now instead of trying to move closer and smell that soft, rose scent of hers? 

The drive over to his place was almost torture.  The smaller confines of his
black sedan didn’t let any of her delicate scent dissipate so he felt surrounded by her.  It wrapped around his brain and wouldn’t let go.  He actually had trouble concentrating on the conversation.  He had to focus because she seemed worried about the evening ahead.  She was asking all kinds of questions about the various people who would be there, trying to find out what they were like and who they were, how they were connected with each other and why he chose each person to sit on his board of directors. 

He appreciated what she was trying to do, but he wished she’d just shut up so he could get control of his body once again.  Her sweet voice wasn’t helping because he also knew that she was very vocal when she was in the throes of passion and his mind was torn between answering her questions and trying to figure out what he could do to get her to make one of those sweet sounds in the next few moments.

In the confines of the elevator, he gave up the challenge.  At least in the car, his hands were occupied steering the vehicle and his mind had to concentrate to a certain point on getting them from her apartment to his penthouse safely.  But now, as the doors closed them into his private elevator, he couldn’t hold back the need to hold her in his arms once again, to feel her soft breasts against his chest.  So when he reached for her, he was actually surprised that she moved into his arms without hesitation.  But he didn’t care either.  He wanted her and she was willing.  He didn’t have the time or the concentration to figure her out at the moment.  His mouth covered hers and she lifted her face to accept his kiss. 

Elana sighed with happiness when he finally reached out and grabbed her waist.  His hands were hard and firm as he pulled her against him but she didn’t care.  Her hands were already up around his neck, her body pressing against his. She wasn’t resisting.  In fact, she was making it painfully hard to pull back so when the elevator doors opened, he was relieved that he’d picked her up early so there weren’t any witnesses to their abbreviated embrace.

“We’re here,” he said softly, lifting his head but not releasing her from his arms.  He held her like that for a long moment, his eyes looking down at her as if he wanted to memorize every part of her beautiful face. 

“We have to stop doing this,” she said softly, but she didn’t pull back either.  She seemed perfectly content to just stay in his arms, right there in the elevator. 

“Why do we have to stop?” he asked, thinking that he wanted to do this more often rather than stop it completely.  In fact, he wanted to pull her into his bed and not let her out for several days.  Maybe even weeks.  He had no idea how long it would take to get her out of his system, he’d wanted her so long.

“Because it can’t go anywhere.
  We broke up.”

He smiled slightly as he took in their position.  “It appears that we’re back together.”

He broke the spell with those words and she blinked a moment before stepping back, grateful when he allowed her the space.  She walked out of the elevator, feeling as if she weren’t really walking on solid ground.  “We aren’t back together, Gaston.  I don’t want to go through that trauma again.”

He followed her and when she stopped, he took in her worried eyes.  “Is that why you did it, Elana?”

She looked back up at him, confused.  “Is what why I did what?”  His question made no sense.  It was almost as if he were blaming their breakup on her. 

Unfortunately, the elevator pinged at that moment, announcing the arrival of additional guests.  She knew that he introduced her to the newest group of people, but she had no idea who they were or even what they looked like.  Her mind was completely focused on his last question, on trying to interpret what he’d asked her. 

She suspected that it was incredibly important but he pressed a glass of champagne into her hand and she took a sip, wanting the chilled liquid to cool her skin.  Unfortunately, it had the opposite effect on her focus.  She’d forgotten to eat lunch earlier today so she had an empty stomach.  The bubbly liquid plus nothing to absorb the alcohol immediately went to her brain and she was tipsy with only half a glass.  By that point, the whole room was filled with people, more people than she’d anticipated.  When Gaston had asked her to attend this function, she’d assumed it was a dinner just for the board of directors and their spouses.  In fact, there were so many guests here, it was hard to move about. 

Elana
chatted with the other guests for two hours, careful to keep an eye on Gaston as he moved about the room so she could ensure she was on the opposite side of the area.  Unfortunately, by that point she really was painfully hungry.  There were waiters moving about with appetizers, but she couldn’t seem to get their attention.  And anytime she finally freed herself from one conversation, someone pulled her into another.  It was overwhelming and gratifying to have so many people interested in her work, but she soon realized that it was only because Gaston had invested in her experiments.  He’d basically put the seal of approval on her work, making others stand up and take a look at what she was doing. 

She started to understand that their interest was
a bit of a ‘follow-the-leader’ syndrome.  All of these people worked hard to find out what Gaston was investing in so they could then follow his lead.  Anything he touched seemed to reap huge returns so she just fit into that category of ‘a good investment’ that others wanted in on. 

“Where are you trying to slip away to?” Gaston asked, slipping his arm around her waist when she was almost halfway to the elevator. 

“I was just trying to get some fresh air,” she said, sighing slightly and leaning against his strong physique.  “How often do you throw these kinds of parties?” she asked, looking around at the various people all seeming to be having a wonderful time as they gulped down his alcohol and ate his appetizers.

“Too often,” he growled.  He looked down at her, at the half empty glass and her glossy eyes.  “Have you eaten anything tonight?” he asked, correctly guessing that she was feeling the effects of the champagne. 

“Not only have I not been able to flag down a waiter,” she said with a grimace, “but I didn’t eat anything for lunch.  I’m starving!”  she looked up at him and with hopeful eyes, she said, “Any chance you could get that guy’s attention over there?” she asked, thinking that Gaston was taller and could more easily gain the waiter’s attention. 

He didn’t even bother to glance in the other direction.  “I’ll do even better,” he said and took her hand in his larger one, pulling her behind him as he made his way through the crowds.  He must have had a ‘don’t bother me’ look because the people seemed to part like the Red Sea for Moses. 

After pushing through a doorway, Elana had to blink at the brighter lights.  The kitchen was bustling with wait staff hurrying everywhere as they filled up their trays with additional drinks or food before spinning around and heading back out to the crowd. 

“Here,” he said and handed her a plate filled with the delicious smelling appetizers.  She didn’t hesitate, grabbing one off of the top and popping it into her mouth.  The stuffed mushroom tasted fantastic and she grabbed another, leaning against the granite countertop as she selected another one.  “Where are we anyway?”

“My penthouse,” he replied, watching her eat with fascination. 

She almost choked on a seafood quiche.  She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her airway.  “This is where you live?” she asked, a
stonished.  “It’s like a palace!”  She didn’t mention it was a sterile palace with very little personality.  It definitely didn’t reflect the powerful man who had so many fantastic ideas.  The environment was like a shell.  It was cold and effective, but didn’t have any of the heat of its owner. 

He shrugged his shoulders.  “It’s where I sleep and entertain.  I wouldn’t really call it a home.”

That comment brought back memories of sitting on a park bench talking about their dream house.  He’d said he wanted to live by the sea so he could open the doors and windows to the fresh, ocean breezes as he slept.  She’d said she wanted to have an enormous kitchen with an herb garden right outside the doors so she could have fresh herbs whenever she cooked.