Читать книгу The Gold Collection - Ким Лоренс, Maggie Cox - Страница 25

LAUREN arrived at the restaurant at two minutes to one. From his vantage point seated at the bar Ramon watched her slip out of her coat and hand it to the waiter, who had sprung to attendance the moment she walked through the door. Her smile was a killer, he mused. He had never met anyone who could resist its warmth.

Her hair was still swept up into an elegant chignon, and her designer suit and heels were the uniform of a busy professional—a corporate lawyer with a high-flying career. But he remembered the other Lauren. The passionate and sensual woman who had responded to his lovemaking with such sweet eagerness. As she walked towards him Ramon fought the fierce urge to tug the pins from her hair, bury his fingers in the silky mass and hold her captive while he claimed her mouth until she melted against him.

‘Ramon.’

He stood up as she reached his side, faintly irritated that while the waiter had received a smile he did not. ‘As punctual as ever,’ he murmured.

‘It would be extremely unprofessional to be late for an appointment with a client,’ she replied crisply.

A subtle reminder that business was the only reason she had agreed to have lunch with him? Ramon felt a spurt of amusement at Lauren’s determination to put him in his place, but he also acknowledged a strong desire to shake her equilibrium.

‘Our table is ready.’ He paused, and then added softly, ‘It’s a pity it’s not summer; we could have eaten outside as we used to. Remember, Lauren?’

Her eyes flew to his face. Of course she remembered, Lauren thought shakily. The memories of the good times they had shared during their affair were ingrained in her mind for ever. The Vine had been one of their favourite haunts, and they had frequently dined here before returning to Ramon’s penthouse apartment to sate another kind of hunger. The sex had been urgent, intense, and unbelievably erotic—a sensual nirvana that was beyond anything she could ever have imagined.

But it had just been sex. Without strings or the expectation of commitment or emotion. At least it had for Ramon, she thought bleakly. For her it had become something infinitely precious, and the realisation that she had fallen in love with him was one reason why she had left him.

A waiter led them to their table. ‘What would you like to drink?’ Ramon enquired when they were seated.

‘Iced water, please. And I’d like the Dover sole with new potatoes.’ Forgoing a starter and dessert meant that, with luck, lunch should last no longer than thirty minutes.

The waiter departed with their order and she glared across the table. ‘What are you playing at, Ramon?’

Dark brows rose slightly at the sharpness of her tone, but he did not immediately reply, instead surveying her flushed face with a speculative gleam in his eyes that lit a flame to her temper.

‘Why did you invite me here?’ she demanded.

‘You know why. I wish to discuss a business venture with my new legal advisor.’ He paused, and then added laconically, ‘I admit I chose the Vine for purely nostalgic reasons. We shared some good times here.’

‘I have no desire to take a trip down memory lane,’ she said shortly. ‘We’ve both moved on.’

Ramon stared at Lauren speculatively, aware of the surreptitious glances she had been darting at him. The chemistry was still there, simmering beneath the surface of her cool façade, but the faint tremor of her mouth warned of her determination to fight her awareness of him. For now it was enough to know that he bothered her. He controlled the urge to walk around the table and kiss her into submission, and instead turned his attention to the approaching waiter.

Lauren gave a sigh of relief when their meals were served. The fish was delicious, but she was so acutely conscious of Ramon that her appetite deserted her after a few forkfuls.

‘I ran a few preliminary checks on the properties you are interested in, and I can see possible problems with two of them,’ she explained, taking the folder of notes from her briefcase. ‘The property in Chancery Lane is a Grade II listed building, which means it is of historic interest and you would need to apply for special building consent to do any kind of refurbishment. The property in Jermyn Street has a short lease. I’ve spoken to the company who own the freehold and have learned that they would consider extending the lease. But obviously that would have to be negotiated.’

Ramon speared his last forkful of steak and savoured it before replying. ‘Your efficiency is commendable.’

‘That, presumably, is the reason you hired me.’

‘One of the reasons.’ He met her glare with a bland smile. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed their verbal sparring, and their conversations about everything from the arts to topical news items.

‘Alistair Gambrill thinks highly of you,’ he commented. ‘Eighteen months ago I remember you had only recently moved to PGH from another law firm, and now I understand that you are being considered for promotion. You must have worked hard to make such a positive impression on the senior partners.’

Lauren threw him a sharp glance, wondering if he was being sarcastic. Her dedication to her job and her refusal to cut down on the long hours she worked had been the only source of friction between them during their affair. Ramon had made it clear that he expected her to be at his beck and call, while she had been infuriated by his chauvinistic attitude and had not held back from telling him so.

He had never understood that her single-minded focus on her career stemmed from an almost obsessive need for financial independence, and a determination never to be reliant on anyone—as her mother had been on her father. But how could he have understood, when she had never told him about her parents’ bitter divorce, or that her father had abandoned his family for his mistress and left his wife and daughter virtually penniless?

‘The move to PGH has certainly given me an opportunity to further my career,’ she agreed. ‘And I work hard at my job.’

He could not know that she felt pressurised to work harder than her contemporaries. Discovering that she was pregnant a month after she had started at PGH had meant that her career had no longer been a choice but a necessity as she faced life as a single mother.

Anxious to prove her worth to Alistair Gambrill and the other senior partners, she had continued to work long hours. Fortunately Mateo’s birth had been straightforward, and three months later she had returned to work full-time, afraid that lengthy maternity leave would be detrimental to her chances of promotion in the male-dominated, highly competitive world of corporate law.

She took a sip of water, fiddled restlessly with her napkin, and then said abruptly, ‘I’m sorry about your father.’ Ramon had always been reluctant to discuss his personal life, and she knew little about his family, but Esteban Velaquez had been a prominent politician in the Spanish government and his death had been reported worldwide.

She did not expect him to comment, and was surprised when, after a long pause, he admitted, ‘It was a shock. Cancer had been diagnosed six months earlier, but after surgery his prognosis was good. Unfortunately the disease returned in a more aggressive form and there was nothing more the doctors could do. My mother has taken his death badly,’ he continued heavily. ‘My parents had been married for over forty years and she is heartbroken.’

His mother’s grief had been as much a shock as the loss of his father, Ramon conceded silently. He had assumed that his parents’ marriage had been a union between two influential Spanish families—an arrangement that had developed into a contented relationship based on mutual friendship and respect. But after witnessing Marisol Velaquez’s raw despair as she wept for her husband he had realised that it had been love that had bound his parents together for almost half a century—the kind of profound and everlasting love that poets wrote sonnets about and which he had cynically doubted existed in real life.

Lauren stared at Ramon’s handsome face and felt her stomach dip. He was impossibly gorgeous, but she was not the first woman to be blown away by his sexy good-looks and she certainly would not be the last. Since Esteban Velaquez’s death, the press had frequently reported on the playboy lifestyle of his only son and heir. Ramon had been photographed with a number of women—in particular a well-known catwalk model, Pilar Fernandez, who was the daughter of a Spanish aristocrat and whose impeccable pedigree was reflected in her exquisite features. The pictures of Ramon and beautiful Pilar had reinforced Lauren’s belief that he would not be interested in his illegitimate child.

‘I’m sorry for your mother,’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps the prospect of you marrying soon will help to alleviate her grief a little? There is speculation in the media that you are about to announce your engagement to Pilar Fernandez,’ she added, when his dark brows lifted in silent query.

‘I’ve no doubt my mother would be delighted at the news of my impending nuptials,’ he drawled. ‘Since my father’s death she seems to have made it her life’s mission to find me a bride. But the speculation is unfounded. Certain elements of the Spanish press are fascinated with my private life, but Pilar is simply a friend. Our families have known one another for many years. I’m afraid that even for my dear madre’s sake I am in no hurry to find a duquesa.’

His eyes rested deliberately on Lauren’s mouth, and the sensual gleam in his eyes sent a quiver of reaction down her spine. His message was loud and clear. Some time in the future he would select a member of the Spanish aristocracy to be his wife and provide him with blue-blooded heirs to continue the Velaquez name, but until then he would enjoy his freedom and satisfy his high sex-drive with numerous mistresses.

But she had been there, done that, Lauren brooded.

Ramon had gone to some lengths to arrange for her to work for him. She recognised the hunger in his eyes, and could feel the undercurrent of sexual tension that had simmered between them since she had walked into the restaurant. It was inconceivable that he wanted to re-ignite their affair when he had insisted eighteen months ago that if she left him he would never take her back. But if that was his intention—dear heaven, she thought shakily—she could only pray she had the strength to resist him.

Tension tightened its grip on her. She could not allow him to find out about Matty. He would surely not deem her son a suitable heir for a family who could trace its ancestors back to the eleventh century, when Rioja had been fought over by the ancient kingdoms of Castile and Navarre. Matty was her baby, her responsibility, and it would be better for everyone if he remained her secret.

The arrival of the waiter dragged her mind back to her surroundings. ‘Would you like dessert?’ Ramon asked.

‘No, thanks.’ Her hands were trembling as she shoved the notes on the properties back in her briefcase. ‘I should go. I need to get back to the office to hand over the accounts on my file to other lawyers in the department.’

‘I’m sure they can wait another fifteen minutes,’ he said dryly before he turned to the waiter, ‘An Americano, please, and a jasmine tea.’

Did it mean anything that he remembered she always liked to end a meal with cup of herbal tea? All it proved was that he had a good memory, Lauren told herself firmly.

The waiter returned with their beverages and she sipped her fragrant tea.

‘So, what has been happening in your life since we split up?’ Ramon queried in a casual tone, the intent expression in his eyes shadowed by his thick lashes. ‘Is there anyone special in your life, Lauren?’

Only her son, who filled her life so completely that there was no room for anyone else—but she could not tell Ramon that, and gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’

So there was some guy. It was hardly surprising, Ramon conceded. Lauren was a beautiful, sensual woman, and she would not have spent the past eighteen months alone. What was surprising was how much he disliked the idea of her with a lover.

He leaned back in his chair and studied her broodingly. ‘I feel sorry for this guy, whoever he is.’

‘What?’ It took a few seconds for it to sink in that Ramon believed she was dating someone. Lauren frowned. ‘Why?’

‘Because he doesn’t satisfy you.’

‘Oh? You know that, do you?’ She had forgotten how infuriatingly arrogant he could be.

‘I can tell.’ He moved so suddenly that she had no time to react as he leaned across the table and captured her chin in his hand. ‘If lover-boy satisfied you, your eyes wouldn’t darken to the colour of woodsmoke when you look at me.’ He ran his thumb pad over her lower lip and felt its betraying tremble. ‘And your mouth wouldn’t soften in readiness for my kiss.’

‘It doesn’t… I don’t…’ Shaking with anger, and another emotion she refused to define, Lauren jumped to her feet so abruptly that her chair toppled over and hit the floor with a clatter that drew curious glances from around the restaurant.

The noise brought her to her senses and she snatched a breath, willing herself to act with calm dignity even though her heart was pounding.

‘I don’t know what game you’re playing,’ she said coldly, ‘but perhaps I should remind you that I ended our affair a year and a half ago. You might have employed me to work for you, but I expect our relationship to be conducted on a purely professional level, with no references to my private life and no…’

‘Kissing?’ Ramon suggested dulcetly.

His teasing smile tugged on her heart. She had forgotten his wicked sense of humour, and how often he had made her laugh, and for some inexplicable reason tears stung her eyes.

‘You are insufferable,’ she hissed, suddenly aware that the waiter, who had hurried over to pick up her chair, was clearly intrigued by their conversation. ‘I’m going back to work.’

‘I’ll take you,’ Ramon handed the waiter his credit card to settle the bill. ‘After I’ve shown you where you’ll be based while you are working for me.’

Lauren knew enough about cars to recognise that Ramon’s sleek silver Porsche was a top-of-the-range model. As she slid into the passenger seat she felt a little pang of regret for her beloved red sports car, which she had traded in for a family saloon big enough to fit in Mateo’s baby seat and the mountain of other paraphernalia required for one small child.

Her life was so different now, she brooded. She was no longer a carefree young woman, swept up in the excitement of a passionate affair with a sexy Spanish playboy. Now she was a mother, with all the responsibilities that entailed. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. Matty was her life; and the highlight of her day was when she picked him up from the daycare nursery and he wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and smothered her face in wet kisses.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not pay any attention to the route Ramon was taking through the congested London streets until they neared Marble Arch and swung into Park Lane.

‘Why are we here?’ she asked him with a frown when he drove through a gateway and down a ramp which led to an underground car park. She recognised the place instantly. Eighteen months ago she had often stayed at Ramon’s luxurious penthouse apartment, but she could not understand why he was taking her there now.

‘I have my offices here.’ He parked, climbed out of the car and walked around to open her door.

Lauren followed him into the lift, her heart suddenly beating painfully fast as she remembered all the occasions when Ramon had pulled her into his arms and kissed her until they had reached the top floor, dispensing with her clothes, his, the moment they reached his apartment, sometimes making it to the bedroom, sometimes only getting as far as the sitting room sofa, before their hunger for each other overwhelmed them.

The image of his muscular naked body descending slowly onto hers, his powerful erection penetrating her inch by glorious inch, was so vivid that she closed her eyes, terrified he would guess her wayward thoughts. She could sense his intent scrutiny but refused to meet his gaze, and bit down hard on her lip when he stood aside for her to precede him out of the lift.

‘Are your offices up here?’ She glanced along the corridor, frowning as she searched for a door other than the one that she knew led into the penthouse.

‘Uh-huh.’ Ramon slotted a card into the door security system and ushered her inside. The apartment was achingly familiar—a wide hallway, with various spacious rooms leading off it, all decorated in neutral shades and furnished with contemporary pieces which provided splashes of bold colour. Through a half-open door Lauren could see the master bedroom. Memories crowded in on her and she halted abruptly, gripped by sudden panic.

‘Is this is another one of your games?’ she demanded sharply. ‘You said you were going to show me my office.’

Ramon gave her a musing look, taking in her flushed face and the slight tremor of her mouth. This wasn’t the first time she had seemed uneasy with him, and he was intrigued to know what was bothering her.

‘It’s in here.’ He pushed open a door at the far end of the hall and led the way into a room which Lauren remembered had once been a small sitting room. It now housed a desk, computer, and other office furniture. ‘I’m working from my study, adjoining this room, until I can rent a suitable office complex for the London subsidiary of Velaquez Conglomerates,’ he told her. ‘In fact, that will be your first task. I recently viewed a new commercial building at St Katherine’s Dock, and I want you to deal with the lease contract.’

When Lauren made no reply he continued, ‘My PA has remained in Spain, and I’m using secretarial staff from a temp agency until I find a permanent base. Sally comes here a couple of mornings a week so that I can dictate correspondence.’

So working from the apartment would only be a temporary arrangement, Lauren tried to reassure herself. But it could still take weeks, maybe months, before Velaquez Conglomerates took over the new offices—which meant that she would have to come here every day and re-live memories of all the times Ramon had made love to her. Dear heaven—Mateo had been conceived here!

She had walked across to the window, to stare at the view over Hyde Park, but now she swung round to face him, her body rigid with tension. ‘This isn’t going to work,’ she said tersely. ‘It’s easier for me to commute from PGH’s offices than here. I can be in constant communication with you by email or phone…’

Ramon shook his head. ‘I’d prefer you to be here.’

‘Why?’ she cried, unable to control her emotions any longer. She had been so shocked to see him again, and coming back to the apartment where they had been lovers was sheer agony. Throughout lunch she had felt as though he was stripping away her protective shell, layer by layer, and she was terrified that if she didn’t leave now he was going to guess how much he affected her.

Ramon’s eyes had narrowed at her outburst, and now he strolled towards her, as silent and intent as a panther stalking its prey, and twice as deadly. The atmosphere shifted subtly, the tension between them so tangible that Lauren’s skin prickled.

‘What exactly are you worried about, Lauren?’ he asked softly.

‘I’m not worried about anything,’ she denied desperately, sure he must hear her heart hammering against her ribs. He was too big, too close, and memories of his demanding mouth plundering hers hurt too much. ‘I simply don’t understand what all this is about, Ramon. Why you’ve gone to such lengths to manipulate me into working for you.’

He said nothing, just kept on coming towards her, and the stark hunger in his eyes robbed her of breath. ‘What do you want from me?’ she whispered, and her heart stopped when his hand shot out to cup her nape and his head slowly descended.

‘I want this, querida,’ he said harshly, and covered her mouth with his own.