Читать книгу At The Spaniard's Pleasure - JACQUELINE BAIRD, Jacqueline Baird - Страница 8

THE champagne cork popped and Liza jumped, and then grinned. She was overreacting—everything was perfect. Nick was seated at the head of the table and Paul was filling crystal flutes with very expensive champagne, and Greta was serving a delicious fish soup into the finest porcelain bowls.

When they had both left Nick picked up his glass, and said, ‘Here’s to you, Liza, and a pleasant evening, for both of us.’

She managed to control the slight nervousness that assailed her when they were alone, and she lifted her glass. ‘I’ll drink to that.’ Her steady voice and hand gratified her no end as they touched glasses.

Nick grinned and swirled the liquid around in his glass, then lifted it to his lips and swallowed before returning the glass to the table.

Liza followed the movement, her gaze stopping at his perfectly sculptured mouth, and she was helpless against the flush of heat that flooded her body as he took a deep drink of the champagne. Realising she was staring, she took a hasty drink from her glass. ‘Lovely champagne,’ she enthused. And saw him nod, his dark eyes lifting to hers.

‘Lovely companion.’ He touched his glass to hers again and then added, ‘And I am glad you agreed to dining here, Liza. Restaurants can be so impersonal sometimes, and I really want to talk to you, reminisce, and perhaps discover what has shaped you into the very lovely lady you are today.’ His glance dropped from her face to the firm curves of her breasts, and she felt them tighten alarmingly against the silk fabric of her dress. ‘Get to know the real you again.’

‘That sounds ominous,’ she offered and, dropping her head, praying he would not notice her body’s instant reaction, she added, ‘You might not like the real me,’ and carefully placed her glass on the table. Quickly she picked up a spoon and began shovelling the soup into her mouth. When she dared look up again, she needed not have worried.

‘Impossible. I already adore you, as you know; I have since you were a child,’ he said smoothly, his expression wryly amused. ‘Now, let us enjoy our meal, and you can tell me what you have been doing with your life over the past few years.’ His smile was irresistible.

‘Not a lot.’ Flattered, Liza grinned back. ‘And certainly nothing exciting enough to need privacy before disclosure.’ And she proceeded to give him a potted history of her adult life. ‘Three years in university reading history, and a job I enjoy, as I told you before. I have a studio apartment in London and I visit my mother every few weeks. She got married again three years ago and lives in Brighton, running an antique shop with Jeff, my stepfather. These are hardly state secrets.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nick responded with a devilish gleam in his dark eyes. ‘You might have become a porn star or a lap dancer; you certainly have the figure for it. And then there are your lovers. You have a high-powered job so maybe a lover or two in high places as well?’

His sexy teasing brought an embarrassing tinge of pink to her cheeks. Was he insinuating that was all she was good for, as he had years ago? Liza wondered, but refused to rise to the bait. ‘You know what I do for a living.’ She held his gaze. ‘But as for the rest, that is classified information,’ she managed to respond archly, much to her satisfaction.

Nick just bet it was. She was either very clever or very naive, and Liza looked far too sophisticated to be naive. He could not decide if she was completely in the know about her boss’s alternative career as a diamond smuggler or not, but for Carl’s sake he was taking no chances.

One eyebrow rose eloquently. ‘Of course, I expected no less, Liza.’ And the sardonic glance he cast her was oddly intent. ‘Though I have heard Henry Brown is not quite so reticent in his love life, although he is married, I believe.’

For a moment something unsettling about his comment teased at the back of her mind. But, dismissing the errant thought, she responded drily, ‘Henry is a law unto himself where women are concerned. And, though personally I deplore unfaithfulness in a marriage, I must admit, having met his wife, I’m not surprised.’ She tried for a sophisticated answer. Plus Margot Brown was a pretentious snob; the few times she visited the office or spoke to Liza or any of the staff she treated them as if they were a sub-species.

‘I believe you; after all, it must be great to have a boss who books a suite at a five-star hotel to attend a conference then quite happily takes off and gives you a holiday with all expenses paid at the drop of a hat. I must confess I am nowhere near as generous with my employees,’ Nick drawled sardonically.

Liza looked up sharply. What was he implying? And she answered her own question. She wasn’t a fool, she could tell when she was being insulted, and the old hurt resurfaced, causing a brief stabbing pain in her heart. Obviously he still thought of her as a promiscuous teenager and her blue eyes glinted with anger at the injustice of it all. ‘It is a two-bedroom suite.’ She held on to her temper with difficulty, determined not to show any emotion over the past in front of him. ‘And my boss was called away unexpectedly.’ Straightening in her seat, she added with contrived flippancy, ‘So who am I to argue? You know the saying, never look a gift-horse in the mouth.’

‘Yes.’ He did, but at the mention of ‘mouth’ Nick found his eyes fixed on the very generous curve of Liza’s, and imagined nibbling that full bottom lip… Dios! He had to stop these thoughts. He never mixed business with pleasure. But then he had never been confronted by the adult Liza before.

Dropping his gaze to the less tempting table, he continued in a softer tone, ‘I suppose you are right, Liza. But isn’t it rather odd that he does not want you to attend the meetings?’

‘I…well…’ Liza hesitated; his quite reasonable question made her think and defused her anger. She supposed it was a bit unusual.

‘I really don’t know.’ She told the truth. ‘I have only been his PA for a couple of months; his last one left to get married, and, as my boss retired about the same time, Henry sort of inherited me,’ she explained, not sure why she was bothering. ‘This is the first time I have travelled with him. And he is returning a week next Friday for the last day and the gala dinner in the evening, so maybe it will not be a complete waste.’

‘I hope not.’ Nick had the information he required and a flash of triumph glinted in his dark eyes; the man was coming back to the island in thirteen days’ time. The time span was about right for the negotiations; obviously Brown was returning to collect the money and he was as good as caught. A call to Carl, and, with the other culprits tracked down hopefully by the Spanish police and Interpol, the arrests were a foregone conclusion.

‘Yes, and we are returning to London together the next day, as scheduled,’ Liza added.

Not if he could help it, was Nick’s immediate thought. Liza had said she had only been Brown’s PA for a short time; that was easily checked and if true was in Liza’s favour. She could be innocent. His dark eyes narrowed assessingly on her apparently guileless face. A woman could look beautiful and innocent and still be a criminal. He was not foolish enough to think otherwise, and yet he knew he didn’t want Liza anywhere near Henry Brown when they picked him up.

At the very least she would end up being taken in for questioning, and that he could not allow. Surprisingly for him, he discovered he was not ready to part with Liza now he had met up with her again. At his age and with his experience of women, he knew the feeling for what it was—lust, stark and basic…

Liza had been an itch he could not scratch for years when she was younger, but not any more. He wanted to sate himself in that gorgeous body until she was out from under his skin for good.

Nick lifted the champagne flute and took a sip of the wine, then twirled the stemmed glass in his long fingers, studying the colour for several seconds, thinking quickly. Finally he shifted his dark gaze to linger appreciatively on her.

‘Your boss is a very lucky man,’ he declared huskily, his firm lips curving in a soft, sensual smile, ‘to have you as his PA.’ Little did Brown know, his luck had just about run out, Nick thought with savage satisfaction even as he mouthed the slick compliment.

‘Thanks,’ she said drily. But felt the colour rise in her cheeks as her eyes met his, too conscious of his virile charm and something in his expression that made her heartbeat increase dramatically. She finished her soup to hide her confusion, and was grateful when Greta reappeared with the next course.

As Nick had promised, the food was beautiful, and as they ate Nick took charge of the conversation and Liza was happy to follow. They talked in an easy manner, discussing films, books, music, and Nick’s experiences on various projects. Liza was fascinated and asked dozens of questions. He told her how he had expanded the company worldwide. He spoke with dry humour of the different business practices in the different countries, and the amusing situations that arose from the differences.

Nick was not the wealthy, idle lotus-eater she had thought; he obviously worked hard. But his skill, his charm, was such that he made everything appear easy. He told a good story, sometimes against himself, but she formed the impression that whatever the circumstances Nick always came out the winner. He had a brilliant mind, and she doubted anyone crossed him and got away with it.

Scraping the last mouthful of the mouth-watering soufflé into her mouth, she glanced up at him through the thick fringe of her lashes. ‘In a way you and I are a bit alike—you studied art and don’t use it. I read history at university and thought I would visit all the great historical places in the world, but instead I have ended up in finance, a bit of a waste.’

‘The experience of university life is an end in itself,’ Nick argued. ‘And I do use my knowledge; I appreciate anything of beauty, be it a woman or a landscape, I know where to site a building so it is aesthetically pleasing, though, with the upsurge in tourism around here in the last few years, some are anything but.’

Liza chuckled. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘Have you ever thought of changing, Liza?’ Nick demanded seriously. ‘You’re young—you have plenty of time to start another career.’ He was satisfied he had discovered all he needed to know. Henry Brown was returning to Lanzarote. As for Liza, he was almost sure she was innocent of any crime, and, even if she was guilty, once away from financial temptation and into something more academic it was possible she could change, and he never questioned his reasoning, simply pursued the thought.

‘You could get out of finance and back into what you really want to do,’ he suggested. ‘It is never too late, Liza, believe me. I might even be able to help you.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Liza smiled. ‘But don’t take it so seriously, Nick; I’ll survive whatever.’ And she sat back with a sigh of contentment. ‘That meal was magnificent, Greta is a great cook.’

‘You can tell her that in a minute,’ Nick said curtly. He didn’t know why but her casual attitude infuriated him, had she no idea of the danger she was in? Did she even care? Pushing back his chair, he stood up. ‘Greta will serve coffee in the sitting room.’

But what was really bugging him was his superior intellect had apparently deserted him. He had already missed half of the family celebration in Spain and if he didn’t get back to his mother’s for the final party he and his mother were hosting tomorrow evening, his mother would never forgive him. But what to do with Liza? He dared not leave her alone on the island without telling Carl or he would never forgive him either.

He had been racking his brains to think of some way of persuading Liza to come to Spain with him, and incidentally keep her out of harm’s way, but was damned if he knew how to do it. Short of asking her ‘Will you come to Spain with me for the rest of the weekend?’ But he knew that would go down like a lead balloon, given that she had made a point of avoiding visiting the Menendez home for years.

No, he had to think of something else, and, confident as he was in his masculine powers of seduction, he doubted all the seductive technique in the world would convince Liza to fly off to Spain with him only a day after their meeting up again.

Rising to her feet, Liza followed him through into the elegant living room, wondering what had caused the sudden coolness in the atmosphere. She sat down on one of the soft hide sofas, the occasional table already held the accompaniments for coffee, and a moment later Greta appeared with a pot to add to the already prepared tray.

Liza smiled at the other woman and thanked her for a lovely meal, and then stiffened when Nick chose to sit down beside her on the sofa instead of taking the one opposite. During the meal there had been space between them and the atmosphere had been good most of the time, but now she sensed a tension in the air, and she felt distinctly crowded.

‘Will you be mother?’ Nick asked smoothly.

The words hung in the air as Liza had a vivid mental image of being mother to Nick’s child, a small dark-haired angel. Her face turned scarlet at the provocative thought and hastily she bent forward and filled two small cups with the aromatic coffee. ‘Sugar, milk?’ she asked, without looking at him.

‘As it comes.’

Lifting one cup, she turned slightly, her hand stilling. Nick was lounging back against the cushions, one long arm flung along the back, his jacket hanging open and his shirt pulled tight across his muscular chest, she could see the slight shading of body hair and swallowed hard.

He gave her a long, sardonic look. ‘Are you going to give me the coffee, or simply hold it?’

Blushing at her stupidity—she was eyeing the man like the dumb teenager she had once been—she thrust the cup at him, a little of the liquid spilling, and his long fingers curved around hers.

‘Steady, Liza. I want to drink it, not drown in it,’ he drawled mockingly.

The touch of his hand sent a warmth shimmering through her, and quickly she snatched her hand back, and, grasping her own cup of coffee, forced herself to sit back against the sofa, and lift the cup to her mouth. She took one sip and almost burnt her tongue. Her lips tightened and she just prevented a yelp escaping.

She had to get over her panic; hadn’t she decided in the hotel earlier to take a chance? Nick was just a man like any other. But that was the trouble, he was not like any other man she had ever known, she thought ruefully, casting him a sidelong glance from beneath the thick screen of her lashes. How was it, she mused, that as a young girl she had had a crush on him and was brutally cured of the illusion by the man himself? For years she thought she hated him and yet now one day in his company and all she saw was a dominant, attractive male who turned her bones to jelly.

Feeling vulnerable in a man’s presence for the first time in years, she was not sure she trusted the feeling, and common sense told her to thank Nick for the meal and leave. With that in mind she drained her coffee-cup and replaced it on the table, and, turning slightly, she glanced at his face. He was looking down at her, his mouth a hard, taut line, and for a moment Liza felt a slight shiver of fear, or was it a shiver of sensual anticipation? She was not sure which, and quickly fixed her gaze somewhere over his left shoulder and before she could weaken.

‘Thank you for a lovely evening, Nick. But I think it is time I got back to my hotel.’ She made to rise, only to find a large restraining hand on her forearm.

‘Please join me in a brandy at least,’ Nick said softly, and placed his cup on the table, his dark gaze holding her own, and his thumb caressing the underside of her arm to devastating effect.