A Spanish Seduction

by Montgomery, Alyssa J.

‘I don’t feel remotely like myself at the moment,’ she said breathlessly. ‘I feel like I’m having a wonderful dream, and even though I know you’re just doing it for show, having you kiss me sends my entire stomach into a flutter and makes me feel incredibly off-kilter. ’

  He almost groaned aloud. She shouldn’t say such things to him because it made it so much more difficult to keep a rein on his rampant arousal.

  She pulled a face. ‘I shouldn’t have told you that, should I?’

  ‘Probably not,’ he said as levelly as he could. Definitely not. ‘This is a business deal, remember?’

  ‘Oh, don’t worry. You’re a wonderful kisser, but so you should be with all the practice you’ve had! I’m not going to pretend I didn’t just about melt at your feet then, or that I haven’t been thinking about kissing you since the first moment I met you. But, you can relax. I’m hardly going to fall head over heels with you. I know you’re exactly the type of man I should avoid.’

  Amazingly, he felt affronted.

  ‘Tiffany was concerned I might lose my heart to you,’ she admitted, ‘but I’m not going to.’

  She wasn’t?

  When had he become so arrogant that he thought every woman he met would be entranced by him? Probably since his formula one days when every female in close range had joined the swarm around him and vied for his attention.

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Despite his assertion, he wasn’t sure it was the complete truth.

  ‘I’m much tougher emotionally than I was, and I’m becoming more resilient all the time,’ she declared. ‘This arrangement is an ideal way for me to prove that I won’t allow myself to be vulnerable again and get hurt.’

  Ricardo frowned. Jessica was far from tough. She was soft, feminine, beautiful and definitely vulnerable. Her honesty and naivety were part of her appeal. He didn’t want her to change. He didn’t want to play any part in her becoming tougher. If she did, she’d be just like all the other women he knew.

  Why did that thought bother him so much?

  ‘Don’t try to change, Jessica. Be yourself.’

  ‘Oh come on, Ricardo. Last night you were desperate for me to change.’

  He was still desperate, but tonight his desperation stemmed from an entirely different reason. ‘I wanted you to change your outward appearance, not your personality.’

  ‘Well, Pablo succeeded with my appearance. I don’t feel quite so out of place at your side now. In fact, I love being on the arm of such a sexy specimen of the male species!’ She took a quick breath. ‘I know that makes me rather shallow, but this is only for a short time so I don’t think it’ll hurt.’

  He frowned. ‘Keep track of what’s real and what’s fantasy.’

  ‘I know you didn’t appreciate my fairytale analogy before, but I really feel like Cinderella off to the ball, and I’ve decided to cherish every hour before the clock strikes twelve.’

  Just what had Pablo done with the bristling cocktail waitress?

  ‘The life you return to when this ends won’t be the same as the one you left,’ he warned.

  ‘No. I’ll be debt free, I’ll be sporting my brand new look and I’ve already gained confidence. I’m looking forward to my time in Barcelona and to new experiences when I get back to London.’

  New experiences like a screaming orgasm?

  Dios le ayude! She’d already mentioned the possibility of being introduced to her Prince Charming over the next three months. Now something fierce tore at his insides when he realised she might not only meet the man, but might have her first screaming orgasm with the guy.

  What was wrong with him tonight?

  Confused by his line of thinking, he turned and signalled the maître de. ‘Let’s go and sit down.’

  Jessica’s thigh brushed against his as they walked toward the maître de. The sensation triggered fresh thoughts of how it would be to take her as his lover. The notion that he should be the one to give her a screaming orgasm was worse than fanciful. It was crazy.

  Ricardo was a shark and she was a fresh-water minnow who’d been tossed into his stormy sea. She may not be an untried virgin, but she was way out of her depth. He had plenty of faults, but he didn’t take advantage of innocent or vulnerable women.

  ‘I’m a little hungrier now than I was when we left Pablo’s,’ she told him.

  ‘Good.’ Every minute that passed in her presence made him hungrier as well, but he doubted they were talking about the same thing.

  He liked and cared about Jessica which was a first. Liking her was one thing. The conflict was that he both liked her and was incredibly turned on by her.

  As they followed the maître de through the restaurant to their table, Jessica walked slightly ahead of him. Ricardo was aware of the subtle sway of her hips and seductively rounded bottom. He seethed as he realised every other male in the place also appeared riveted by her.

  Demonio! The way heads spun, some of the men would surely end up with whiplash! He may as well have launched a female atom bomb onto an unsuspecting population of males. Was she to wipe out every male in the room?

  Jessica didn’t seem wholly aware of the effect she had. She was tempting men without any of the calculated womanly wiles he’d become so cynically immune to. When men smiled at her, she smiled back — not in a coquettish or sultry way, but with natural friendliness.

  ‘It’s so lovely here, Ricardo.’ She beamed at him once they were seated. ‘Do you come here often?’

  ‘Whenever I’m in London.’ But never with a woman who’d appreciated it so much. All this was new to her and her enthusiasm was sexy. The now nameless, faceless other women who’d faded from his memory, had known no other lifestyle. They were jaded, so Jessica shone where they paled.

  A waiter arrived with the menus and shortly afterwards took their orders.

  The drinks waiter poured their red wine and Jessica smiled up at him. ‘Have you worked here long?’

  ‘Watch what you’re doing!’ Ricardo burst out. The young man was so entranced by Jessica he seemed to forget what he was doing. The red wine began to flow over the rim of her glass.

  The young man’s cheeks flushed as red as the wine. ‘I’m so sorry!’

  Jessica grabbed for the salt with one hand and began shaking it onto the white linen tablecloth. She reached out and placed her other hand on the young man’s arm. ‘Don’t worry. Accidents happen. I’ve always found salt absorbs red wine really well.’

  ‘Henry! What’s happened here?’ the maître de demanded. ‘Mr Garcia, Miss, I’m so sorry. We’ll —’

  ‘Please,’ Jessica interrupted. ‘There’s really no harm done and it was my fault as I distracted him with a question.’

  It hadn’t been her question that had distracted the waiter, Ricardo thought moodily. Much more likely to have been her dazzling smile and the unobstructed view of her cleavage.

  ‘Would you care to come to the bar while we re-set the table?’ the maître de asked.

  ‘We’ll be fine here,’ she answered. ‘Ricardo?’

  ‘We’ll stay here,’ he conceded. ‘As Miss Harris said, there’s no harm done.’ Unless one counted that the young waiter probably suffered eye strain from his gaze having flicked incessantly to Jessica’s cleavage.

  ‘If you’re sure.’ The older man didn’t seem entirely satisfied, but must have been relieved the incident hadn’t erupted into a scene.

  Ricardo regarded Jessica as she put more salt on the mound where the red wine leeched through. She’d immediately defended the young waiter when other women he’d brought here would’ve torn strips off him. Other women wouldn’t have engaged him in conversation in the first place. ‘It was kind of you to make so little fuss,’ he remarked.

  ‘Why would I make a fuss? The poor guy made a mistake. I make plenty of them. I’m sure even you’ve made one or two in your life.’

  Her words pierced him, bringing traumatic memories to the surface. He looked away from her to hide his expression in case his angst showed
in his face. He’d made mistakes alright. One mistake was so bad it had cost his cousin his life.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ she said with a smile. ‘I guess this is the time to start getting to know each other. Tell me, Ricardo, what made you go into Formula One racing?’

  It was a question he’d answered many times before. His standard answer was that he was addicted to speed. It was the type of answer journalists liked to print — something flip that suited the playboy image they wanted to build up. Somehow, as he regarded the sincere interest in Jessica’s emerald eyes, he found himself responding honestly.

  ‘My parents died when I was ten and from then I lived with my uncle’s family. The Garcia Corporation was thriving and my uncle used to tell me about the business. He began to take me to some of the Grand Prix races with him. At the time, no car designed by Garcia had ever won. I heard my grandfather bellowing one day at the driver in the pit lane and telling him that it was his fault they weren’t winning — that he lacked the guts to push the car and get the most out of it.’

  ‘That sounds a bit harsh.’

  ‘It was a harsh truth. From that moment I vowed I’d race the Garcia car and win acclaim for the family company as soon as I was old enough.’

  ‘You achieved your goal.’

  He nodded. He’d achieved one goal. What he didn’t tell her was that he hadn’t just been racing for the family company but for his grandfather’s approval, which he’d never gained. His uncle had battled with the old man to get him to agree Ricardo could race for the company. When approval had finally been granted, both Ricardo and his uncle had thought Ricardo was finally going to be accepted by his grandfather. It had never happened.

  ‘What made you retire from racing?’

  His hand stilled for a second as he reached out for his wine glass. The race that ended his career had made headline news all around the world, yet he could tell by her expression that she was completely ignorant about the circumstances. He took his glass and sipped at the red wine. ‘Racing held no attraction for me any longer.’

  ‘You got to the top and you wanted a new challenge?’

  ‘I needed a new challenge.’ That much was true. The rest was not something he wished to discuss. ‘What about you? What made you decide to become a remedial masseuse?’

  ‘I wanted to help people. I would’ve loved to have been a physiotherapist, but when my school marks weren’t high enough, I did my first massage course.’

  ‘You enjoy it?’

  ‘Yes. I truly believe in natural therapies. I don’t just massage. I’ve done other courses as well which are far removed from western medicine’s answer to throw drugs at everything. I incorporate all I’ve learned into each treatment session.’

  ‘Tell me more.’ Surprisingly, he was genuinely curious about a topic that had previously never held any interest.

  ‘I believe in creating a completely harmonious environment during treatment sessions. Use of music therapy, aromatherapy, colour therapy —’

  ‘Very alternate.’

  ‘And very successful. I believe in treating the whole person rather than just the presenting injury. I use iridology to help diagnose weaknesses in my patient’s health.’

  ‘Iridology?’

  ‘Studying the patient’s eyes. The iris holds information about general systemic health for each individual according to which patterns, spots or colours are present.’

  ‘What do you see when you look into my eyes, querida?’

  Jessica gulped.

  He leaned toward her and she sat a little taller and leant forward. The light floral scent of her perfume teased him.

  ‘You’re disgustingly healthy,’ she pronounced after a few moments. ‘The only thing I see is an overactive gall bladder.’ She gave a little laugh. ‘That’s most likely a metaphysical symptom because this whole situation with the banker’s wife is galling to you. I could help you with that by working on pressure points and doing some reflexology on your feet.’

  He couldn’t help raising his eyes heavenward. It all seemed nonsensical.

  ‘Oh! Wait!’ she declared in a considering tone. ‘Lean forward again.’

  Ricardo did as she bade, allowing himself to savour the situation because just as she looked avidly into his eyes, he was able to look deeply into hers. The air between them crackled with awareness. For Ricardo, there was just Jessica. Just this most exquisite woman who sat across from him, tempting him to get closer and to abandon all sense.

  A flush stained her high cheekbones. The professional examination of his eyes turned into something else. He saw the unmistakable of need, followed swiftly by confusion. The small peek into the vulnerable depths of her soul shuttered as the mask of the health professional fell back into place.

  ‘Just as I suspected.’ She appeared to struggle to quell a smile. ‘Not just an overactive gall problem, but your system is overloaded with arrogance!’ Then, she rendered him speechless for a few seconds with the full blast of her smile and the teasing light in her eyes.

  This couldn’t be the same guarded woman he’d met last night. Now, she flirted with him!

  He arched an eyebrow and kept a straight face. ‘A tad too much arrogance, Miss Harris?’ Hell, it wasn’t too much arrogance he was suffering from, but a fast-growing problem —literally — with a raging erection.

  ‘Definitely,’ she intoned sweetly.

  ‘And what form of treatment do you recommend?’

  The way she screwed up her nose was incredibly cute.

  ‘You know, Mr Garcia, I think three months with me will probably just about cure you of it.’

  Ricardo couldn’t hold back his laughter. Por Dios! This woman may well be dangerous for him if he let his guard down, but she was also good for him. He hadn’t enjoyed himself so much in a long time.

  He shook his head as he told her, ‘I wonder how well I’ll get to know you over three months, Jessica? You’re like a multi-faceted diamond whose many faces I’d like to explore. One moment you’re serious, the next serious fun.’ Every facet appealed to him on a multitude of levels — appealed way too much. ‘Tonight you’ve transformed physically, but it’s also as though you’re a completely different person to the woman I met last night.’

  ‘You’re a serious flatterer,’ she said, ‘but I’m prepared to admit I’m enjoying it. I’ve never been flattered and I’ve never felt so utterly, wonderfully womanly. I am different. It’s exhilarating and thrilling. I’ve been pampered all day, ferried about in a limousine and photographed by the paparazzi. Now, I’m out at an amazing restaurant with a handsome dinner date, who may well be the sexiest man alive, and — although I’ve always considered myself thoroughly unskilled in the art of flirting — I’m here exchanging all this banter with you. My head’s spinning, but I think it’s in a good way.’ She reached across the table and touched his hand. Electric current burst up his arm. ‘Thank you, Ricardo, because you’ve made this possible. You’ve opened up a new me.’

  The tightness in his throat was almost as painful as the tightness at his groin. He wanted to take her hand in his. He wanted to take her whole body — her naked body — and hold her tight. Then he wanted to...

  It was time to change the topic to something less dangerous. The visions in his mind were way too vivid. ‘Tell me more about the work you do, Jessica.’

  Mierda! His words sounded strangled, his voice hoarse.

  Jessica didn’t seem to pick up on it. As she spoke about her passion for her work, Ricardo was entranced by the vital light which sparked in her eyes. He wondered what she’d look like when she was in the throes of her orgasm, and how her features would transform when she lay fully sated between the sheets. His sheets.

  Fierce need coursed through him. His body screamed at him to leave the restaurant immediately and take her to bed. His hands bunched in conflict as he knew it was a yearning he must deny. Shifting in his seat, trying to ease his discomfort, he said, ‘You’re very enthusiastic about your work.’
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  ‘My dream has always been to open a clinic of my own. I almost had enough saved to buy out the lady whose practice I’d been working at...’ Her voice trailed off.

  ‘Until the man you married withdrew everything from your nest egg.’

  She grimaced. ‘Your investigator was thorough, so you have no illusions about what a total fool I was.’

  It struck him they had far more in common than he would’ve thought. Trying to ignore the aching fullness between his legs he said, ‘We’ve both taken things at face value and been deceived by others.’

  Jessica picked up her wine glass and held it out for a toast. ‘Here’s to both of us making wiser choices in the future and to pulling off this master plan of yours!’

  The waiter arrived with their first course, and the conversation became less personal over their meal, but Ricardo’s arousal took a long time to subside. Jessica was animated as she asked him questions about Barcelona and what European countries she’d accompany him to over the next three months.

  He was mesmerised by the dreamy quality in her eyes as she confessed she’d always wanted to travel to Spain and had studied Spanish all through school, and then at night school. When he spoke to her in Spanish, he found she was surprisingly fluent. That hadn’t been in the investigator’s report.

  By the time they’d finished their meal and the waiter offered them coffee, they were the only ones left in the restaurant. Never had an evening with a woman passed so quickly or so pleasantly outside the bedroom.

  Infierno! What it would be like to spend an evening in bed with her! Those killer legs would be wrapped around him while he plunged into her. He’d watch her face as she was caught up in the sensual bliss of their lovemaking. It promised to be heaven. Jessica would cry out his name as she came.

  Would it truly be her first orgasm? A driving need to know consumed him.

  ‘Tell me about your husband.’

  He wished he hadn’t asked. Instantly, the sparkling happiness evaporated and her posture went from relaxed to rigid.

  ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’ Her fingers gripped the handle of her coffee cup tightly.