Taken the Spaniard's Virgin

“You are frowning again, looking infinitely more disturbed than you were earlier.” He adjusted the robe on her shoulders, his gaze concerned if she could make herself believe it.

Cinching the robe tighter, she asked, “Do you hit on all the models that get hired by your ad department?”

“My company is far too big for me to oversee every photo shoot and not all cover models are female. I have definite heterosexual biases,” he joked.

Her stomach plummeted. Misdirection was not the same thing as a denial and she needed solid denial to feel even sort of good about going out with him. “I think we’d better give dinner a miss.”

“Do not be ridiculous.” Irritation laced his voice. “Do you seriously believe I need my ad department to find me dates?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean you don’t take advantage of the situation.”

“You are truly bothered by this?”

“Yes.”

He called the ad campaign manager, who had just exited the small trailer he’d been using as headquarters for the shoot, over. “Stephan.”

The other man hitched his satchel on his shoulder, obviously ready to leave the remaining break down to the technicians. “Yes, señor?”

“Tell Miss Taylor how often I have hit on models employed by our company.” His voice had chilled with distaste on the wordshit on .

Stephan measured her with his eyes, his dark gaze clearly filled with surprise. Whether it was surprise that she would have the temerity to question his super powerful employer or at the question itself, she did not know.

“Never that I have seen, señor,” he said with either genuine sincerity or a very good approximation of it.

Heat scorched up her neck into her cheeks. “It doesn’t matter. I still don’t think this is a good idea.” She fluttered her hands, indicating them.

Miguel dismissed his employee with a look and then turned to her, his expression hard and not at all potential-lover-like. “I think it is a very good idea and so do you, but for some reason you are afraid. I assure you, you have no reason to be.”

“You’re a bad risk for a woman like me. I think, honestly, that you are a bad risk period.”

The words should have offended him, but they didn’t. His smile was back. “Life would be very boring without risk, do you not agree?”

He hadn’t even bothered to try to deny it. But then, even the business journals alluded to a love ’em and leave ’em reputation for him. “Maybe, but some risks are worse than others.”

“And some pay off in dividends that are unimaginable.”

“You think dinner with you falls in that category?”

“I guarantee it.”

“Arrogant.”

“Confident.”

“With you, it’s the same thing.”

He laughed again and she capitulated. “Okay, dinner. But you aren’t putting me to bed, early or otherwise,” she warned him.

“Duly noted.” He smiled and her inner woman actually rocked back on her heels. “May I see you home?”

“I can take a taxi.”

“There is no need. I have my car at your disposal.”

“I suppose that would be all right.”

“Such enthusiasm.”