The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance
An atavistic shiver went down her spine. “That’s a lot of people.”
He shrugged. “My father had run Perez Holdings into near bankruptcy by the time I was twenty. There was no time for me to get an MBA. My education came in the cutthroat halls of big business.”
“And you were determined to win?” This man would never accept anything less.
“For the sake of my family and the Perez name? Oh, yes, I was more than willing to become a pirate.”
“You’re kind of a ruthless guy, aren’t you?” So different from her, and yet not.
Family was important to both of them. The welfare of children mattered to them both. During one of their hiatuses between sexual bouts, he’d told her he admired her career choice and believed children deserved the best the world could offer them.
“There is no kind of about it.” He reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “There is no room for sentiment in business.”
“Wow. I’m not sure I could dismiss people’s feelings like that.” And honestly, she had a hard time seeing him do it, too.
He reached for her jacket, lying over the back of her sofa, and held it up for her to put on. “You do what you have to when you are backed in a corner.”
“I bet you didn’t stay cornered for long.” She flipped her hair from out of the jacket collar.
“You’d be surprised.” Instead of going toward the door, Baz stepped in closer to her. “Bringing Perez Holdings from bankruptcy to the multibillion-dollar international entity that it is today did not happen in a week, a month or even a couple of years.”
“So does that ruthlessness translate to your interpersonal relationships?” she asked, breathless from his nearness and doing nothing to hide that fact.
That ship had sailed.
“I can be pitiless both on behalf of and with my family when it is necessary.” There was no apology in his voice, no sense of regret at what he considered necessary action.
Suddenly realizing just how little she really knew about this man, Randi shivered.
Baz’s brows knitted, his espresso eyes filling with concern. “Are you well?” he asked solicitously.
“Yes, of course.” She’d just had another wake-up call, which she shouldn’t have needed, but apparently did.
His hands landed warmly on her shoulders. “My father has been married many times, but the first time lasted the longest. She turned a blind eye to my father’s infidelity and he was utterly loyal to her and my siblings.”
“What happened?”
“I did.” Baz looked surprised by his own admission. “My mother was my father’s mistress, but she got pregnant and suddenly he had to weigh having a child of his grow up without his name and protection, or divorce.”
“He chose divorce.”
“Sí.” And from the look in Baz’s dark gaze, he still carried a sense of responsibility for that fact.
“You know you were innocent in the choices your parents made, right?”
“Of course.”
“Why don’t I believe you?”
“I cannot say.” He brushed his thumb up her neck, leaving shivers in the wake of the small caress. “Are you ready to go look at properties?”
“I am.” Only didn’t they have to step away from each other and, well, leave the apartment for that to happen?
“First things first, though.” Oh, man, those dark eyes of his.
Who could resist them? Not her.
“Wha—?”
His lips cut off her inquiry, his mouth instantly heated and possessive against hers.
Despite knowing how all this was going to end, with him in Spain, probably with some gorgeous European supermodel, and Randi in Portland, doing what she’d always done, she gave herself to the kiss, allowing Baz to pull her into his arms without hesitation.
He held her close, his hands inside her coat, warm and sure against her back.
After several minutes of blissful loss of self, she made an instinctive protest when Baz stepped away.
He winked. Seriously. Winked. “If we don’t leave now, we’ll never get to all the properties on our agenda tonight.”
The man was too delicious and good at kissing for her to be thinking logically right then. “And that’s important.”
“Isn’t it?” he asked, his tone teasing and arousing at once.
She took a deep breath, let it out and forced her brain to function. “You know it is.” She smiled. “And I appreciate your efforts on behalf of Kayla’s for Kids a lot.”
“While I believe in what your sister wanted to do with these shelters, make no mistake, I’ve offered my help on your behalf.”
Heat suffused her, but she wasn’t losing her head again. “I can’t believe your broker found such great possibilities.”
“Sometimes, in real estate, it is who you know. Not all properties get listed on the MLS immediately. Some never do.”
“That doesn’t make any sense.” It really didn’t. “Wouldn’t people want to have the biggest pool of potential buyers?”
“Sometimes the only buyer you need is the one who prefers exclusivity.”
“But we’re not looking for a multimillion-dollar property.”
“No. Your budget is not exactly that of a pauper, either, however.”
Funny, that wasn’t the way her original Realtor had behaved. Her continuous message was that they needed to increase their budget, or lower their expectations.
“Besides,” Baz went on, “you’re buying on behalf of a nonprofit. If the seller is very wealthy or a corporate entity, they may be in a place where they desire the write-off of offering the property under market value. They save on capital gains as well as increasing their yearly tax shelter.”
Okay, that did make sense. And was kind of smart, to boot.
Randi grabbed her backpack purse and slung it on. “Is that how the broker found properties in our price range that fulfilled most, if not all, the items on our wish list?”
They left the apartment, Randi turning off lights just before shutting and locking the door.
Baz answered her question on the way to the elevator. “I would assume so, yes.”
“I’m beyond impressed.”
“He’s a very savvy guy. He wouldn’t be working for me otherwise.”
“That I believe.”
He grinned, looking younger than his thirty years for a brief moment. “My reputation precedes me already.”
She shook her head in wonder. “You’re really confident, aren’t you?”
“Some call me arrogant.” And he didn’t sound like that bothered him at all.
“That doesn’t bother you at all?”
“Not particularly, no.”
“You write your own rules to life.” That was for sure.
“And you, whose rules do you live by?”
Randi wasn’t sure she had an answer to that. She’d spent so much of her adult life, and early childhood, reacting.
“I think I live by the rule of survival.”
“So then, we have that in common. The survival of the Perez name, my family’s survival, my company’s survival, these are paramount to me.”
They were on their way to the first property when she asked about the family he kept mentioning as being so important.
Baz cast her a sidelong glance as he pulled the luxury car to a smooth stop at a red light. “My father maintains a nominal position in the company while he negotiates his fifth marriage.”
“That’s a lot of wives. He must have tons of kids.” And pay a lot of alimony.
No wonder the man’s company had been doing so poorly.
“Actually, there are only three of us.” Baz pulled into traffic again, his olive-toned hands curled loosely around the leather steering wheel.
“Are you close to the others?” Randi asked, thinking how much she wished she’d grown up with Kayla as part of her life.
“Not really. My older brother and sister were content to keep to themselves once our father divorced their mother.” There was something subtle in Baz’s tone that implied pain at that truth, despite his nonchalant attitude.
“I’m sorry to hear that.” She laid her hand on his thigh in what she hoped was comfort. “Finding Kayla is one of the best things that has happened in my life.”
“That is a sweet sentiment.”