At the Spaniard's Pleasure

by Jacqueline Baird

  He’d almost lost it then and told his mother the truth. Good in bed, yes! But as for the rest… The injustice of it still made him see red.

  Tightening his grip on Liza’s arm, he hurried her through the long corridors to the main part of the house. Dark eyes hard, he glanced at her exquisite profile; he was trying to save the woman from almost certain arrest, but to hear his mother talking he was one stop short of a sex maniac.

  But, even worse for a man who prided himself on being in control, he knew he was on very shaky ground. Plus, if he took Liza at her word, his sex life was down the drain as long as they stayed here.

  What a dilemma. He was between a rock and a hard place and he did not like it. Damn it to hell! He was much too wily and jaded a male to fall for typical feminine ploys, and rescuing damsels in distress had gone out in the last century with the advance of feminism. So what had possessed him to act like a misguided knight to save Liza? He had no answer, or not one he was prepared to admit to. But he had discovered it was not easy trying to act the white knight, especially when he was thinking below his waist most of the time, and that was Liza’s fault as well.

  Liza was quietly fuming. ‘Wait a minute, Nick.’ He had almost dragged her through the house without giving her time to catch her breath, but now they could hear the music playing and they had almost reached the entrance to the huge salon.

  ‘Before we go any further,’ Liza stopped and that got his attention, his dark eyes glancing impatiently down at her, ‘I want to know how you knew the name of my boss Henry Brown. I never told you but you mentioned him first at dinner last night, and also how did you know I was sharing a suite with him?’

  So she had finally noticed the one real slip he’d made. He wasn’t surprised; she was an intelligent girl. ‘You have a very low opinion of your own attraction if you have to keep searching for a reason to be with me, other than sex,’ he said bluntly. ‘And a very fertile imagination, Liza; a bit of business espionage, something like that on your mind, hmm?’ And tightening his grip on her wrist, he added, ‘I don’t usually explain my actions to a woman, but I will make an exception in your case. It is quite simple; when I arrived at your hotel last night I asked for you at Reception. The girl there was very chatty,’ Nick opined hardly. ‘She told me you were sharing a suite with a Henry Brown.’

  His crack about a low opinion of herself and sex hit a nerve, but it did not stop her questioning his response. Was a receptionist supposed to give out that kind of information? Liza didn’t think so. But then, remembering her first sight of Nick in the hotel, leaning on the desk laughing with the girl, and her own jealous reaction, she had to accept his answer was perfectly feasible. Nick could charm anything out of any woman, she thought drily, and felt stupid for asking. ‘Do you mind? You’re hurting me,’ she snapped.

  ‘Not at all.’ He dropped her wrist as if it was something unpleasant. ‘It would never do for us to be seen holding hands, family friend and all that,’ he mocked.

  ‘Señor.’ Manuel appeared at Nick’s side, and said something softly in Spanish.

  Nick placed a hand at the base of Liza’s spine. ‘Go on in—I have to take a call.’ And he was gone before she could protest, disappearing into what she knew was the study. Liza stood for a moment, her eyes on the closed door. Industrial espionage was a bit wild, but she was still not convinced that Nick didn’t have some agenda of his own, and it wasn’t just a helpless fascination for her body, she was sure.

  A crowd of people entered the hall and reluctantly she gave up trying to fathom Nick and walked into the large salon. The party had already started and there had to be over a hundred people there.

  A small dance floor had been laid at one end and a trio was playing lively Latino music. Liza glanced around but she hardly knew anyone.

  Seeing a passing waiter balancing a tray, she gratefully accepted a glass of champagne and took a good swallow, cursing Nick under her breath for deserting her, but at the same time realising it was inevitable. He had passed her off as a friend of the family, and that was how she must stay. Deviousness was not in her nature, but Nick was a master at it. He had dismissed her honest question as not important and sadly she realised it was not important to him, because she was not important to him. He didn’t actually care how she felt as long as he got what he wanted.

  Liza could not tolerate deceit of any kind, and unfortunately, Liza realised, drawing on the harsh lesson she had learned nine years ago, wanting someone was not enough. Respect and trust had to be part of the equation, not to mention love. Better to nip the affair in the bud now, before Nick actually broke her heart. Her decision was made; she was definitely going to leave in the morning.

  She only had to get through tonight. Draining her glass, she placed it on a convenient table and, straightening her shoulders, she lifted her head and looked around.

  Nick leaned against his desk in the study and listened in mounting anger as Carl filled him in on the latest developments.

  The case had taken a nasty twist. Two men had beaten up Daidolas’s receptionist at the shop—probably the sailors the police were trying to find. They knew there had been a delivery and they wanted to know where Daidolas was; he owed them money or they would take diamonds. The terrified receptionist had revealed an English girl had delivered a parcel but she knew nothing about it, or where her boss was. The police had checked Liza’s hotel, and worse was to follow: somebody had called and asked to speak to Mr Brown’s PA, and the talkative girl on the desk, probably the same one Nick had spoken to the night before, had quite happily revealed Liza had left with a Señor Menendez, and that Liza’s luggage had been sent for a few hours later.

  Nick cursed the downside of being a high-profile businessman as Carl informed him it was more than likely the two men knew Liza was in Spain with him and everyone had heard of the Menendez stud.

  A few telephone calls later and Nick left his study, his handsome face hard and slightly grey beneath his tan. He had arranged for round-the-clock security on the estate, by his own men and the local police. But he was still not content. It was a big party, and with over a hundred guests anybody could have slipped onto the property in the bustle of arrivals. He wanted Liza out of here.

  Liza placed her empty glass on a window ledge, and looked around the crowd of people. There was still no sign of Nick. Fortunately at that moment Thomas’s son, Marco, appeared at her side.

  ‘The lovely Liza, and alone. Can I have this dance?’ he asked with a grin.

  She was relieved to see a friendly face, having been introduced to him at lunch. Marco was a young man in his twenties, very attractive and very aware of it; she had an inkling he was a bit of a flirt, but it was just what she needed.

  ‘Yes, thank you, Marco.’ And when he put his hand around her waist and led her through the crowd to the dance floor, she felt none of the tension Nick’s touch aroused in her.

  ‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

  ‘Should I?’ Liza grinned; he was a handsome young man.

  ‘I stayed here once when you were here. I was twelve and you were sixteen and I had the most enormous crush on you, but you only had eyes for one of the grooms.’

  ‘Oh, no.’ And she laughed it off with, ‘Was I that obvious?’

  ‘Only to me, probably.’ Marco grinned and spun her around.

  Marco was a great dancer, and Liza was no slouch, and when the music ended she was naturally included in the group of his friends.

  It was as she finished dancing with one of them over an hour later that she bumped into a hard male body. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back a few steps.

  ‘Enjoying yourself, Liza?’ Nick’s mocking drawl feathered across her cheek. ‘Giving the young men a treat, I see.’

  Spinning around out of his arms, she took a step back, and looked up and froze at the derision in his angry black eyes. But, pride coming to the fore, she flashed him a brilliant smile that did not reach her eyes. ‘What did you expect,
Nick? That I would stand at the side like a wallflower until you deigned to return?’ she drawled sarcastically. ‘Well, sorry, buster, but this is a party, and I intend to enjoy myself.’ Once she would have been quelled by his attitude. Now she was just furious.

  ‘Oh, I can see that.’ His firm lips twisted in a sneer. ‘The last boy you danced with had you hauled so close he was almost having sex with you. Not that I am surprised; you were sharing a suite with Henry Brown when I found you,’ he drawled derisively.

  The music had stopped and the last sentence fell like a stone in the muted conversations around them.

  Liza spared him a bitter smile, and, jerking around, she pushed her way blindly through the crowd of people, tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. As humiliating moments went, that was a corker, and she had to get out of here. Now…

  ‘Wait, Liza.’ A large male hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. ‘I’m sorry, I…’ But she never heard him, as with a violent shrug she dislodged Nick’s grip.

  She was suddenly, furiously, magnificently angry at his undisguised contempt and his total humiliation of her. Why should she run away? He was the villain here. ‘What for—so you can slag me off some more?’ she prompted bitterly. ‘I don’t think so. You are a two-faced pig, you take what you want when you want it, and to hell with everyone else.’ And she glanced up, her lovely face tense with strain and anger. Violent black eyes clashed with hers, and she shivered, her mouth running dry. She had gone too far…

  A dark tide of red washed up over his high cheekbones. ‘Are you through?’ Nick demanded between gritted teeth. ‘Trying to embarrass me in front of my whole family?’

  Gathering what little will-power she had left, she plastered a smile on her face, and played the part of vamp he had obviously cast her in. She jutted her hip and put her hand on it, and, deliberately fluttering her long lashes up at him, she declared, ‘What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander…big boy,’ and then lifted her other hand and traced a slow path up his arm to rest on a hard bicep. ‘But don’t worry, I am out of here in the morning.’

  Her mocking response set Nick back on his heels, and he had to fight down a twitch of reluctant amusement at her brave performance. He had never known such an infuriating bloody woman. Yet through the red haze of rage that had consumed him from the moment he saw her dancing with that handsome young man he suddenly realised she had given him the perfect solution to his problem…

  ‘Depend on it.’ He wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her hard against him, and, dropping his head so only she could hear—they had been enough of a floorshow for one evening—he added, ‘I’ll see you off the premises myself.’

  He had a ski-chalet in the mountains above Granada. It was the perfect place to keep her safe. ‘I will even help you pack. But first you are going to dance with me, smile at me and try to behave like a lady for the rest of the evening. Understood?’

  Her chin tilted fractionally. ‘Perfectly.’ And she bit her bottom lip hard to stop the sudden tremble. He could not have made it plainer what he thought of her. So what if it had been her suggestion to leave? In her heart of hearts she had not expected Nick to be quite so eager to see her go. He might have been overcome with lust last night and this morning but obviously he had very quickly had enough of her.

  She held herself stiffly in his hold as they reached the dance floor. The music had changed to something slow, but she let her hands rest defensively on his strong arms as he urged her closer.

  His dark head bent towards her and she felt his warm breath against her temple. ‘No one will believe we are old friends if you persist in dancing like a puppet with a scowl on your face that would make a child cry at ten paces,’ he mouthed against her skin and as he slipped lower his breath shivered over one earlobe.

  Liza tried to resist the compelling power of his huge body, she stifled a sound in her throat, but it was no contest. In seconds she gave in and melted into the hard warmth of his embrace. They fitted together so well; one powerful thigh glided between her legs as he turned her slowly around the floor, and she was made shockingly aware of the strength of his arousal. She lifted startled eyes to his.

  Nick saw the confusion in the darkening depths and for a moment she looked so young and acutely vulnerable. ‘I think we have danced enough.’ He loosened his hold on her slightly. ‘It is time we did our duty and circulated a little.’

  Nick had decided he would go along with the scenario she had painted. It fitted in with his plans ideally. As for the ‘no sex in his mother’s house’, it would mean him keeping guard by the connecting door all night, rather than sharing her bed. But he could afford to wait with the prospect of sharing the ski-lodge with her tomorrow to look forward to.

  Liza said nothing as Nick clasped her elbow and led her through the crowd, pausing here and there to speak to acquaintances, and with meticulous politeness introducing her as a friend of the family. She should have been pleased but instead she felt a deepening sense of dismay. That was compounded when they stopped to talk to Anna Menendez.

  ‘Lovely party,’ Liza said politely.

  ‘I am so glad you are enjoying yourself, Liza, but don’t let this son of mine monopolise you; there are some very handsome bachelors here tonight, and we can catch up on all the gossip tomorrow.’

  ‘Sorry to disappoint, Mamma.’ Nick wasn’t sorry at all; he needed his mother encouraging Liza to flirt like a hole in the head, he thought furiously, but none of his anger showed in the dark eyes that met his mother’s. ‘But Liza has to leave tomorrow; she has to attend a conference she can’t get out of. Isn’t that right, Liza?’ Nick demanded smoothly.

  Liza took a deep breath, then released it slowly. She glanced at Nick; his dark eyes stared blandly back at her, with no sign of the incredible passion they had shared in the cold depths. He could not get rid of her fast enough. Forcing a smile to her face, Liza looked at Anna. ‘Yes. Nick is right; I’m sorry, Anna, but I do have to go.’

  Just for once she would have liked to ruffle Nick’s colossal control and she added, ‘I promised Henry…’ and stopped, glancing back at Nick ‘…I mean, my boss…’ her smile was a masterpiece of confident sensuality ‘…that I would return in time to go home with him.’ She saw his dark eyes narrow, and felt his contempt right down to her bones, and she didn’t care.

  ‘Who is going where?’ a husky voice interrupted.

  ‘Sophia, darling.’ Nick’s delighted greeting knocked Liza’s veneer of confidence for six, and she was forced to watch as Sophia, his supposedly ex-fiancée, slipped her arm through his and lifted her face for his kiss. Nick enthusiastically obliged.

  ‘You remember Sophia, Liza.’ His dark eyes lifted and he pinned Liza with a hard, challenging look.

  Jealousy fierce and primitive lanced through her, but she managed to force a smile for the other woman. ‘But of course. Hello, Sophia.’

  ‘Hi; I never thought I would see you here again.’ Sophia gave her a brief dismissive glance and then was whispering something coyly in Nick’s ear.

  Nick threw his arrogant head back and laughed out loud, and Liza felt as if she had been knifed in the gut. Obviously Nick was still very close to his ex-fiancée, and Liza felt about two inches tall.

  ‘Excuse me,’ she said to Anna, and turned on her heel. In minutes she was swallowed up in the crowd, and when she bumped into Marco she welcomed his easy-going attitude.

  Held in Marco’s arms as the band played a slow tune, she saw Nick dancing with Sophia. No, not dancing—glued together, they simply swayed to the music. Marco, catching the direction of her gaze, looked down at her. ‘I saw you dancing with Nick before and I thought you and he might be an item.’

  ‘Good heavens, no.’ Liza pinned a bright smile on her face. ‘We are old friends, nothing more.’

  ‘Ah, I should have guessed when Sophia arrived and Nick grabbed you, the most beautiful girl in the room, he was probably trying to make her jealous.’

  Liza
looked up into the guileless young face of Marco. ‘Why would Nick want to do that?’ she asked, her stomach churning with nervous dread. ‘I thought they broke up years ago.’

  ‘I’ll let you into a secret Anna told my mother, and she told me. Nick is not quite the womaniser he seems. Apparently Nick met the love of his life years ago, and he thought she was his, but they parted and he has carried a torch for the girl ever since. Well, it has to be Sophia; it is common knowledge she left him when she finished university and got a job as a translator at the EU in Brussels. I think she liked the idea of a rich fiancé while she was a poor student in Madrid.’

  ‘You think so?’ Liza managed to murmur.

  ‘Yes, she is a real career lady; no one has seen her at any family get-together since Nick’s father died a few years ago. But it was common knowledge she had accepted the invitation to this party.’

  As the music stopped Marco, with a hand at her elbow, led her to the side, and, turning, he chuckled, looking over her shoulder.

  ‘I don’t think they have noticed the music has stopped and Sophia is clinging to him like Velcro now, so it looks like making her jealous has finally worked for old Nick. The next big party here could be the wedding. The pair of them are both getting on a bit.’

  Slowly Liza turned back and looked across the dance floor, and sure enough Nick was standing with his arms around Sophia, and she was smiling up into his face as if he was the only man in the world.

  ‘Do you mind, Marco?’ Liza excused herself to go to the rest room, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. Hurt and anger raged in equal parts in her bruised and battered heart.

  In a flash of blinding clarity she saw it all now. Her suspicions had been well-founded, but it had nothing to do with her wild idea of industrial espionage, and everything to do with the fact that Nick Menendez was an opportunist. He had bumped into Liza, and quite fancied her, and when his mother had called and reminded him to get back for the party he must have known he was going to see Sophia again, and saw an ideal way to make the love of his life jealous, and if he got a bit of sex on the side all the better. It was that basic.