The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress (9 page)

“Elana, I can guarantee that we’re going to be…invading…each other’s private space very soon.  And I don’t think there’s anything either one of us can do about that.”

She was already shaking her head in denial, but the limousine pulled up outside his headquarters building.  So instead of replying, she simply rushed out of the vehicle, her head low as she made her way
through the crowd milling about so she could hurry back to her laboratory.  She felt safe there.  Things made sense when she was around her bacteria and experiments.  And if they didn’t immediately make sense, she knew how to decipher the data so that she could unravel whatever mystery occurred. 

Gaston didn’t make sense and he was too dangerous of a mystery for her to even consider tackling.  Unfortunately, she didn’t find her much needed respite among her test tubes and centrifuges today.  Thoughts of Gaston and the way he’d kissed her before lunch kept filtering through her concentration.  She didn’t understand why she kept falling for him, for this almost painful chemistry that hadn’t dissipated over the years.  In fact, if she were being perfectly honest with herself, she had to admit that the chemistry had actually increased.  Or maybe she’d just pushed the
previous intensity of their desire for each other out of her mind, not wanting to remember how wonderful it felt to be in Gaston’s arms. 

Work.
  That had been her antidote to Gaston the last time.  Just focus! 

She sighed as she pulled her eyes away from the microscope.  She looked down at her notes and grimaced because she couldn’t even read the data she’d just recorded.  She’d have to run the whole
sequence once again.  But this time, she wouldn’t let the image of Gaston ruin her focus, nor would she relive that kiss from earlier today get in her way.

With a deep,
cleansing breath, she started the whole process over again, forcing her mind away from the man’s strong hands, his muscular arms that she loved to feel around her, making her feel sexy and safe, cherished almost.  Elana dropped a slide onto the counter, surprised that her mind had gone in that direction and she almost groaned with frustration.  The only thing that stopped her was the curious stares from the others working nearby. 

She had to get control of herself, she told herself firmly.  This was crazy! 

She worked all afternoon and well into the evening before she finally looked up to realize that she was the only person still in the lab.  She glanced at her watch and noticed that it was already eight o’clock in the evening.  With a sigh, she knew she needed to get out of here and head home.  As she packed up her bag and locked down her equipment, she considered the various dinners she might make tonight. 

She was just starting her beat up old car when her cell phone rang. 
Thinking it might be Gaston calling to check on her again, she tensed.  But it wasn’t the number he’d used before so her body relaxed again.  She didn’t recognize the phone number so she sent it to voice mail, then pulled out of her parking space. 

Heading home, her mind went through possible meals and, on
impulse, she stopped by the grocery store and picked up fresh fruit and vegetables, some milk and cheese and some pasta.  She was doing Italian tonight.  She passed by the rice and saffron spice, her mind immediately thinking of Gaston and his preference for Paella.  She remembered the first time he’d taken her to one of the seaside restaurants and they’d shared a huge serving of the fragrant dish, stuffed with jumbo shrimp, mussels, scallops and even a spicy sausage that added just enough zing to the meal.  And the wine had been crisp and refreshing….Gaston really knew how to pick a wine that would perfectly compliment any meal. 

Just because she wanted to and not for any reason that had to do with Gaston, she strolled through the wine section, her fingers running along the reds and wondering which bottle might go well with a pasta meal. 

When her phone rang once again, she picked it up out of her purse and glanced at the number again, her eyebrows furrowing when the same, strange number came up.  Once again, she pressed the ‘ignore’ button and went back to perusing the wines.  She had no idea which wines would be better.  Her father had preferred a glass of Scotch with his meal, never really getting into the whole wine business.  He’d served it when he entertained, but she hadn’t been allowed to taste it when she was younger. 

A smile formed on her face when she thought back to the first time she’d gone out to dinner with
Gaston.  She hadn’t accepted the glass of wine at that meal because she was underage.  She actually chuckled out loud at the memory of his expression.  He was stunned that she wasn’t legally able to drink a glass of wine with dinner.  He hadn’t kissed her that night, or the next three dates. But in the end, their attraction for each other had overcome his need to treat her like a friend. 

That kiss….she’d thought about that first kiss so often over the years.  His eyes when he realized he wasn’t going to be able to deny himself that night, her smile of invitation, her need to feel him, to taste him and touch him had been overwhelming. 

With a gasp, Elana looked around, noticing that she was still in the grocery store and she’d been smiling off into space, looking like a strange woman with a bizarre expression on her face. 

When she saw that another woman was looking at her as if she’d just lost her mind, Elana grabbed the first bottle of wine she saw and dumped it into her cart then quickly headed for the checkout line. 

Back in her car, she drove home to her apartment and lugged her groceries up the stairs.  It was almost eight thirty and a part of her wondered if she really wanted to cook this late at night.  Then she remembered Gaston’s comment about her lack of a meal the previous night and she set about boiling the water and mixing up the sauce.  By the time she had the garlic sizzling in the oil and the vegetables stirred in, she was glad that she’d decided to cook tonight.  It had been too long since she’d done this, she thought with a smile as she tasted the red sauce before adding in a bit more fresh basil. 

The hard knock on her door startled her, but she wiped her hands on the dish rag and moved cautiously towards the door to her apartment.  Glancing out through the peep hole, she almost jumped out of her skin when she saw Gaston standing there, staring right back at her. 

“Open the door, Elana!” he snapped at her.

How did he know that she was standing here? 

Angrily, she considered just ignoring him.  He could stand out there and rot for all she cared.  She’d told him this afternoon that she didn’t want him in her apartment and here he was!  How rude could that man be?

“Open the door now or I’ll just stand out here and make noise.  You know I don’t bluff either.”

With irritation, she yanked open the door and glared at him.  “Didn’t I mention this afternoon that I don’t want you here?”

He ignored her, pushing past her as he walked into the apartment.  “And I don’t care.  You didn’t answer my calls so I had to
come over here and figure out if you were safe.”

“I didn’t get…” she stopped herself from telling him that she hadn’t received his calls but there had been those two phone calls from an unknown phone number.  “I don’t have to answer my phone and you don’t need
to keep looking in after me!” 

After looking through her apartment and ascertaining that she was alone, he turned around and glared at her, his hands on his lea
n hips as he confronted the woman who had distracted him all afternoon.  He wasn’t sure if he was angrier with her for ignoring his calls or with himself for his inability to focus after their lunch.  “So you purposely ignored my phone calls?  If you’d just answered the phone and told me that you were okay, then I wouldn’t be here checking up on you,” he snapped, irritated that he even cared.  But he’d seen her car in the parking lot around eight o’clock and wanted to make sure that she was leaving earlier than her normal midnight.  But she hadn’t answer her phone again and his mind started to think of all the problems a single woman could run into late in the evening.  Elana was too distracted most of the time to be aware of any dangers. 

With a sigh, he rubbed his hand over his face.  She was okay, he told himself.  She looked vibrant and amazing and so sexy he could barely keep his hands from reaching for her. 

Suddenly, he smelled the garlic and looked around, his eyes darting into the kitchen.  He walked to her doorway, ignoring her outstretched hands that tried to push him back and away from her kitchen.  “You’re cooking pasta?” he asked, looking down into her worried eyes.  He grinned.  “I’d love some.  Thanks for asking.”

Elana whipped her hands away from his chest and shook her head.  “You’re not staying!” she gasped.  She started to block his way once again, but he only grabbed her around the waist and almost carried her with him as he moved to the stove.  “This smells delicious,” he said and glanced to the left.  “You even bought wine?”

He picked up the bottle and read the label.  “Pretty good choice,” he commented, looking down into her anxious eyes.  “Where are the plates?” he asked, but again, he didn’t bother waiting.  He put the bottle of wine down on the counter and started opening cabinets.

“Gaston, don’t you have some beautiful blond woman waiting to do your bidding?  Shouldn’t you be on your way?” She quickly stepped to the left after he set down two plates on the counter.  “What are you looking for now?”

“Wine glasses,” he said, not even bothering to answer her other question.

“
Gaston, you can’t stay here!” she cried out when he pulled down two glasses.  It took him only moments to find her bottle opener, probably because she didn’t have a whole lot of drawers or even a lot of items in the drawers.  Since she’d practically been in social hibernation for the past seven years, she hadn’t accumulated a great many items for her kitchen, not needing much when she normally had a peanut butter sandwich or a yogurt as her meal. 

“The pasta looks done,” he pointed out as he turned the corkscrew down into the
cork, then easily pulled it out.  He poured the wine into the two glasses and looked carefully at the color of the wine. 

Elana pulled her eyes away from his strong, capable hands and looked at her boiling pasta.  Sure enough, the pasta was perfectly cooked and she strained the spaghetti out into the sink.  With resignation, she put enough pasta on both plates,
then spooned the sauce on top, adding a generous amount of cheese to both.  She pulled out the salad she’d already cut up and split it into two bowls, then carried it all over to the table.  There were stacks of books and reports everywhere, so she set the plates down on the counter so she could unload the table.  Once the area was cleared up, she set the plates on opposite sides of the table, ignoring Gaston’s smirk when she didn’t put the plates next to each other. 

“I was
planning to clean this weekend,” she said as an explanation to the messy apartment. 

He shook his head
as he sat down across from her. “No you’re not.  You’re coming to the lake house with me.  I told you that earlier today and nothing has changed.”

She sat down
in the chair and picked up the fork he gave her.  “I’m not a child, Gaston.  You don’t need to make sure that I eat meals.  I’ve survived without you quite well over the past few years.”

Gaston looked around
her apartment as well as letting his eyes wander down her too slender figure, shaking his head.  “You’ve barely survived, Elana.  And you know it.”

She didn’t bother to look around, knowing all the stacks of stuff she’d accumulated.  “So I’m a messy person.  Get over it.”

“You’re not messy,” he countered firmly.  “You used to be super organized and ready to tackle any challenge.”  He looked down at her as he took a sip of wine.  “What happened to you?”

Elana pushed the hair out of her eyes, hurt that he hadn’t noticed the changes in her appearance.  She thought she’d done a good job of pampering herself
slightly, trying to look more professional. 

He immediately noticed the hurt look and frowned. 
“It isn’t your hair or your clothes, Elana.  The sparkle that used to be in your eyes is gone.  And you’re still not sleeping well.”  He reached out and touched the dark circles still under her eyes that he could see despite the concealer she used each morning.  “What’s going on?  Are you still worried about the funding?” 

She shook her head, twirling her fork in the pasta.  “No.  I’m not worried about that at all.  You said you’d provide the funding for my work and you never
go back on your word.”  She froze, her hand in mid twirl and her whole body tense as she thought back to some of the promises they’d made together.  “Well, not recently that I know of,” she said bitterly.  They’d had dreams together.  She remembered the day they’d sat on a picnic blanket and talked about the things they wanted out of life.  They’d made promises that day.  Not in so many words, but in the looks and the conversation, the way he’d held her close with his strong arms wrapped around her and the way his lips nuzzled her neck. 

Those dreams were gone now. 
And here was her reality.  She looked around at her messy apartment and wondered how she’d lived like this for so long. 

That was definitely going to change, she told herself firmly.  “Anyway, why were you worried about me tonight?”   She took a big bite of the cheesy pasta, savoring the wonderful taste filled with garlic and spices.