At the Spaniard's Pleasure - Page 35

‘Another explanation! Along the lines you were overcome with passion, you wanted me alone,’ Liza drawled sarcastically. She could feel the icy shock at what she had overheard dissipating, and she knew the pain was waiting for her, but she still managed to continue. ‘Try—I can take care of Liza the thief, while your friend has my boss flung in jail.’

‘No,’ Nick drew a deep, exasperated breath, ‘it wasn’t like that.’

Through the mounting pain in her heart Liza stared at him. ‘The day we met you were looking for me; it wasn’t an accidental meeting at all?’ she realised suddenly, her mind suddenly clear as a bell. ‘You asked me about my work, and I happily told you everything.’ She shook her blonde head, her blue eyes glacial. ‘I should have known you were up to something. You hadn’t spoken to me in years. You always thought I was a slut, but it never entered my head you thought I was a thief as well.’

‘Liza.’

She wrenched free of him. ‘Don’t bother denying it, Nick.’ She glared at him bitterly. ‘Just tell me, how could you bear to make love to me, thinking as you do?’ And, without waiting for an answer, ‘No, don’t bother.’ She raised a hand to his face palm towards him. ‘For the Spanish Stud, it was probably an added thrill for your jaded palate to seduce me.’

‘I never seduced you,’ Nick began darkly, ‘and I regret you overheard something that upset you, but—’

‘But you did think I was a thief,’ Liza prompted and saw the dark colour sweeping up under his skin. He was fuming, but he could not deny it.

‘You don’t understand,’ Nick grated, his glittering eyes raking over her. ‘I can explain.’ He had lied to his best friend to protect this woman, and what had he got in return? A near-death experience and an aching jaw, and now Liza was looking at him with loathing.

‘There is nothing to explain; I already know it all.’ He had seduced her with his sophisticated expertise and she had let him, while all the time he had thought her a thief. She didn’t need the details, all she needed was to get away before the pain swamped her and she broke down in tears. ‘You are a lying, lecherous apology for a man and I never want to set eyes on you again in my life.’ Spinning on her heel, she dashed headlong for the stairs.

Reaching the ground-floor exit, Liza halted, her eyes aching with unshed tears and bile rising in her throat in a tide of self-loathing as she remembered how she had been with Nick—pathetically eager to explore every erotic nuance of sex, glorying in his body, touching him, tasting him, and all the time he must have been laughing at her…

She recalled that very first day Nick had taken her to Spain and to his bed, and she had let him, welcomed him with open arms. For the first time in years she had met a man who could make her break the tight bonds of restraint around her emotions. Knowing he was not into commitment, she had told herself she was mature, confident enough to handle a sexual affair. A holiday romance.

Now she realised Nick hadn’t even been offering that. His real agenda had been much more sinister; he had been quizzing her for information while keeping her under surveillance for his friend Carl Dalk. She thought of the times he had dismissed her suspicions as nothing, but she realised now she should have trusted her instincts. She had always known he thought she was a tramp; it wasn’t much of a jump to think her a thief as well, and act as her jailer.

Not any more…Liza thought, her anger boiling up again. What gave Nick Menendez the right to act as judge and jury on her character? She straightened her shoulders, and stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sun. Nick was a ruthless devil and she should have remembered that instead of being blinded by sex.

She took a few deep, steadying breaths and looked around. She saw the Land-Rover; her luggage was in there, but she didn’t give a damn. She would hitch a lift if she could; she was getting out of here now. She had her passport and credit cards—she didn’t need anything else.

‘Wait, Liza.’ Nick’s strong hand closed around her arm, and furiously she tried to wrench free, but he held her firm. ‘This is Señor Lancio.’ Only then did she notice the short, stocky man at his side. ‘I have arranged for him to drive you to the airport; my plane is waiting, as you know, and the pilot has instructions to take you straight to your destination.’ Urging her towards the Land-Rover, he stopped to allow Señor Lancio to open the passenger door, then he let go of her arm. ‘Be my guest.’

‘No, thanks, I have been your guest once too often already,’ Liza slashed back, her blazing blue eyes clashing with black, ‘and I don’t like what it entails.’

‘You have nothing to worry about. As you requested, I will not subject you to my presence any longer.’

Liza looked at the vehicle, saw Señor Lancio get in the driving seat and start the engine. She looked back at Nick. What the hell? At least she would get away from him quicker this way and climbed in. She fastened the safety belt and stared straight ahead as Señor Lancio manoeuvred the vehicle out of the car park, making a mental note not to fall asleep like last time, or she might end up in Timbuktu!

Monday morning Liza sat on the tube trundling its way under the city of London, and wondered if the last two weeks had been a dream or a nightmare. She guessed she would soon find out.

A vivid image of Nick Menendez the last time she had seen him filled her mind. He was standing by the Land-Rover, his handsome face as hard as granite, his black eyes frozen as they met hers.

Thinking about it now, Liza closed her eyes briefly. Nick had still had the last laugh, damn him! She had boarded the private plane, and it was only when the plane landed she’d realised she was not in Lanzarote… He had sent her back to London.

Back in her flat, she had tried to ring the hotel and discover if Henry Brown was there. But it had proved a fruitless exercise—they r

efused to discuss guests over the telephone—and when she had pointed out she was supposedly a guest herself, for some inexplicable reason there was no trace of her ever having signed in.

She had spent the whole weekend locked in her apartment, alternating between tears for a love that had never been and fury at the man who had done this to her. In her saner moments she had paced the floor, trying to fathom out why she had been gullible enough to accept Henry Brown’s glib offer of a holiday.

Even worse—why had she delivered the package for him? It must have been the diamonds Nick was talking about to his friend; she realised that much, but the ramifications of her action filled her with terror. If Henry Brown was guilty of diamond smuggling then she was without doubt an accomplice. She could declare her innocence until she was blue in the face, but actions spoke louder than words, and years in a Spanish jail loomed large in her nightmares.

As the tube came to a halt at her stop Liza got up and pushed her way through the crowd of commuters and out onto the street. She pulled the collar of her coat up around her neck and, with head bent against the freezing wind, she set off walking towards the office, not sure what she would find when she got there, but pride and belief in her own innocence made her hold her head high as she walked into the reception area.

With no ‘hello’ or ‘good morning’, the pretty, dark-haired receptionist looked at Liza with barely concealed curiosity in her eyes. ‘Mr Stubbs is back and he is waiting for you in the boardroom.’

With a brief nod of her head in acceptance, Liza made her way to the boardroom. Her old boss back from retirement simply confirmed her worst fears. So it was with a fast-beating heart she walked into the oak-panelled room, and closed the door behind her.

‘Liza, Liza, my dear.’ Mr Stubbs immediately crossed to take her arm. ‘Come along and sit down.’ He pulled out a chair at the long, polished table, and Liza was glad to sit down; her legs felt like rubber. Panic was beginning to take root in her mind.

Mr Stubbs sat at the head of the table, and took her hand in his. ‘Thank goodness you are back safely. I blame myself for encouraging you to work for that bounder Brown when I retired. He pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes. Not content with making a very good income with my company, he had to go and freelance as a diamond thief. What is the City coming to when thieving men like that can flourish? But thank God he is caught, and thanks to you our firm will not be involved.’

Tags: Jacqueline Baird Billionaire Romance
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