A Spanish Vengeance

Sophie stared at him as if he’d been speaking double Dutch, then denied, ‘No, of course not. I would have thought you, of all people, would have known that.’

Which had left him with a lot to think about. Just as he had come to London to find her, she had flown out to Spain to see him. Their planes had probably passed in mid-air, going in

opposite directions! That surely had to mean she hadn’t written him off as the uncaring boor he must have appeared during the final hours they’d spent together.

And her engagement to Clayton was still off. So why had she told Isabella she was soon to be married to the man whose ring she wore?

He must have taken his leave of Sophie but he couldn’t remember having done so. He remembered walking further down the street, hailing a cab to take him back to the airport and using his mobile to phone Manuel to tell him to keep Lisa where she was until he got back.

The line was engaged. It was still engaged twenty minutes later. He tried again when he was dropped off at the airport and nearly exploded with frustrated fury.

The line was dead. The phone at the monastery was out. Finding him gone, no one knowing where he was, Lisa would have made tracks.

He had two options. Sit on the Claytons’ doorstep until she decided to return. Or get back to Spain, hoping she’d still be there, waiting for him. Even if she’d left, which seemed more than likely, she might have told his staff where she was heading—directly home, or not.

There was too much adrenalin pumping round his veins to allow for inaction. He booked the last remaining seat on the early flight out to Seville then took himself off to the arrivals hall to wait for the late night flight in, hoping she might have been on it.

She wasn’t.

And now he was wishing the last few miles away, undoubtedly looking like something the cat had dragged in, hoping against hope that she hadn’t already left the monastery.

His thoughts grimly occupied, he had to stamp on the brakes to avoid a head-on collision with a Seat being driven the other way. As it was they were bumper to bumper. Cristo! Some people weren’t fit to be behind the wheel; the driver had taken the tight bend at a maniac speed!

And there was no way he could pass; the road was too narrow. The other driver would have to back up, pronto. He was in a hurry!

His jawline set, shadowed with an overnight beard growth, he slid out of the car, took two stormy paces and his heart stopped.

Lisa!

His heart crashed on then melted as he watched her open the door at her side and slowly swing her long legs to the ground. She stood, lifting her face to him. She was pale, those beautiful eyes shadowed, her hair tumbling down in wayward tendrils. Her soft mouth quivered as their eyes meshed. He had never loved her more.

His driving aim to kiss that look of uncertainty from those haunted eyes, those trembling lips, had him landing one hand on the bonnet of his car and vaulting over the obstruction. Only one pace was necessary to bring him to his heart’s desire. One forceful pace and he was holding her in his arms, fiercely pressed against his heart, groaning thickly as he felt her delicate body shake.

Then she slithered even closer into him, winding her arms around his neck, lifting her lovely face to his. There were tears in her eyes. His heart jerked. There must be no sadness. Not for her, not ever again. He would not allow it!

‘Diego—’

‘Hush,’ he commanded thickly. ‘No words. Just this—’ He lowered his head to kiss her.

Lisa knew she was in heaven. Joy leapt through every vein and sinew and all the cells in her body were on fire as she kissed him back, her hunger matching his as she strainingly attempted to writhe closer even though that was not possible.

Their bodies were welded. She could feel the heated hardness of him through the barrier of their clothes. Lightning exploded inside her.

One of his hands was tangling in her hair. She could feel him shaking with the intensity of the passion that was claiming them both as reluctantly he dragged his mouth from hers and stated raggedly, ‘You will marry me. You will forget Clayton, forget you ever knew him. If he weren’t already lying injured on a hospital bed I would have beaten him to a pulp!’

He planted a kiss on her startled mouth, impressing his forceful decision. Lisa gurgled with laughter and kissed him back, only to find his dark head rearing away, a ferocious glitter in his dark eyes. ‘This is no laughing matter. You are mine and I am a possessive man. I mean what I say. I propose to you and you giggle!’ Violently insulted male pride bristled from every pore. ‘But this time,’ he uttered darkly, ‘you do not leave my sight until I have my wedding ring on your finger. And not even then.’

‘No problem. You won’t be able to get rid of me,’ Lisa assured him, a soft smile curling her mouth. ‘And leave poor Ben out of it. I was engaged to him for a few hours. I have no intention of marrying him. There is no need to be jealous, and your proposal leaves a lot to be desired,’ she added with teasing severity, safe now in the mind-blowing knowledge that the love of her life wasn’t lost at all; he’d just been mislaid for a while.

His lean hands tightening on her shoulders, one black brow rose as he questioned, ‘Then why did you flaunt his ring in front of me, tell Isabella that you would be marrying him soon?’

At least she had the grace to blush, Diego conceded, magnanimously deciding that he had already forgiven her for not knowing her own mind at that time. Hadn’t she come back to Spain to find him and although she hadn’t formally accepted his proposal—and how did it leave a lot to be desired?—she hadn’t been able to hide the way she felt about him when he’d kissed her.

Her colour receding as she recalled just how dreadful she’d felt that last morning, her glance was direct as she offered contritely, ‘It was stupid of me. But at the time it seemed the easiest way to shut her up. You were treating me as if I were a nasty smell and I was so miserable, so sure you wanted nothing more to do with me after the things I’d accused you of, I couldn’t face explaining that I was only wearing the ring for safe-keeping. Your sister would just have asked more questions—’

‘Isabella hasn’t known how to keep silent since the day she first learned to talk,’ he acknowledged. ‘Even so, you couldn’t wait to leave me when you knew he’d been injured and when I asked if you loved him you said you did. You can’t begin to imagine how that made me feel.’

‘Oh, I can!’ she whispered emotionally, lifting her hands to touch his lean and handsome face. ‘When I thought you’d turned your back on me my whole world fell apart, my darling. And I do love Ben. But like a brother. Not as I love you.’