The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance

“So, the deal still stands?”

“I will keep my side of things, yes.”

“Okay, I’ll need to see the press announcement released and some proof the rest of it is happening before I call the news station and cancel the interview. But don’t bother with the apology from Mr. Madison. No way would it be sincere, so really, what’s the point?”

“Oh, there is definitely a point.” Residual anger laced Baz’s voice, and she had to accept that no matter what he’d done to her, Baz was genuinely disgusted by his older brother’s behavior.

But that didn’t mean he was right. “I don’t agree.”

“I will make sure everything you want is done. Immediately.”

“I want to go back five years and not get behind the wheel, but no one can make that happen,” she admitted with more candor than she probably should have.

He made a sound, like her words had hurt him, but that couldn’t be right, could it? He’d have to care to hurt on her behalf.

“I wish I could make that happen for you,” he said, his voice rich with sincerity she could not trust. “But Jamie is fine now and your life will not implode again. I give you my word.”

“For whatever that is worth.” She sighed, not wanting to keep sniping. “Hopefully, for both my sake and that of your family, you’ll follow through.”

“I will.” It sounded like a vow.

Randi had a hard time not instinctively trusting that tone. “Okay. I guess we’ll see.”

He was silent for a few seconds and then he made a sound like he’d made a decision. “There is one stipulation.”

No. No way. “Carl Madison doesn’t get to insist on anything.”

“It is not so onerous, for either of us.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I will stay by your side until the day of the interview has passed.”

“To make sure I don’t go back on my word?” she asked, offended. The fact her heart had leaped at the suggestion wasn’t something she wanted to think about. “That’s not necessary and you know it.”

“Mi cariña, admit it—you do not hate my company. And I find yours very enjoyable.”

“I’m not your darling.”

“Are you so sure about that?”

“You can’t want to do this. You have a multibillion-dollar company to run. In Spain!”

“We may both have to make concessions to spend the next days together, but I assure you, I do not find the idea of those weeks in your company onerous in the least.”

“Maybe because I didn’t spend the last one lying to you.”

* * *

“He wants to do what?”

Miranda pulled the phone away from her ear at Kayla’s loud shriek. “You heard me. He wants to spend the next two weeks following me around like a private eye or something.”

“Or a puppy dog.” Kayla’s laughter came across the line.

“Yeah, no. Basilio Perez is no lost puppy.”

“You can say that after the way he followed you on the MAX?” Kayla kept teasing.

“So he’s a control freak and I wasn’t doing what he wanted.”

“Or you know, he was having an Andreas in New York moment.”

Kayla had told Randi about how she and Andreas got together, but this was not like that and she told her sister so.

“So, are you going along with it?”

“I want the stuff he promised. I want my life back. I think his plan has a better chance than the interview of defusing the situation long-term.”

“As much as I want the world to know the truth about you, because you’re my sister and I think everyone should think you’re as great as I do, I agree. Darn it.”

Randi smiled. “You’re a good sister, but I think this is the right thing to do.”

And that was why she found herself packing a bag to join Baz at his executive condo that day after work. He’d offered to stay in her apartment, but she didn’t want any more memories she had to forget haunting her in her own home.

Besides, his condo had two bedrooms. Her apartment only had one.

CHAPTER NINE

RANDI LIFTED HER hand to knock on the door of Baz’s penthouse, but somehow she couldn’t make the final connection between her knuckle and the wood.

Was she really going to do this?

Could she spend two weeks in the company of a man who had used sex to convince her to do what he wanted? More important, a man who had managed to break down the protective walls she’d built around her heart only to decimate it.

Her internal debate was interrupted by the door swinging open.

Baz stood there, his expression hard to read. “You made it.”

“Yes.”

He stepped back and waved her inside, grabbing her bag as she went by. “I’ll just put this in the bedroom.”

“You’d better mean my bedroom.”

He inclined his head in acknowledgment as he walked away.

Rather than follow him down the hall to the bedrooms, she went into the main living area, but stopped short at what she found there. The table had been set with linens, crystal and candlesticks. Soft jazz played over the condo’s built-in sound system, a fire was lit in the gas fireplace and the lights set to a soft glow.

Baz came up beside her. “Are you hungry? The food is from that steak house you told me about.”

Her mouth watered, but she gazed at him stonily. “It looks awfully romantic for a dinner between two adversaries.”

“We are not adversaries.”

“Just because you say something doesn’t make it true.”

He didn’t reply, but took her arm gently and led her to the table. Once he’d helped her into her seat, Baz lit the candles.

“That’s really not necessary.”

“I think it is.”

“We aren’t on a date.” She shook out her napkin with brisk movements before sliding it over her lap. “I’m here because I have to be.”

“I am aware, mi hermosa.”

“Stop with the Spanish endearments.”

“You prefer English ones?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“I know that our steaks will be cold before we eat them at this rate.”

The meat was delicious, as were the garlic mashed potatoes and lightly sauced sautéed vegetables that came with it. The good food, soft music and warm ambience helped Randi to relax, when she thought there was no way she could ever be at peace in Baz’s company again.

Baz kept the conversation light and away from topics that might blow up between them, which wasn’t to say he didn’t talk about anything personal. He seemed intent on her getting to know him and his history. The Spaniard regaled her with stories of his various stepmothers and their attempts to tame or bring out the refined in Armand Perez by turns.

“Madre, she always wanted Papá to play the big businessman about town, but her successor was more interested in starting yet another family. Papá, not so much.”

Randi made a noncommittal sound.

Baz showed no frustration with her lack of response, just as he had chosen to ignore her desultory forays into conversation throughout the meal. “No, Armand Perez had three children, and that was enough for him. But she would not give up, hosting dinners en famille, dropping baby name books around the house, redecorating the nursery.”

“En famille is French, not Spanish.”

“I may not have gone to university, but I am not ignorant.” He flashed her his all-too-sexy smile. “I am fluent in five languages. French is one of them.”

“Ignorance isn’t always about formal education.”

“So I believe.”

“For instance, having a bevy of degrees wouldn’t have stopped you from being anything but ignor

ant when it comes to the feelings of others.” Needing to get away from him, she stood up and carried her dishes into the kitchen.

The man had used her own body’s response against her, and if he’d realized it, her heart. But he thought that somehow the whys of them going to bed together the first time didn’t matter. Because why? Because the sex was great? Great sex wasn’t going to stop her heart from being broken.

They’d had it. More than once and her heart was a shattered organ in her chest.

“You can leave them. A maid comes in the morning and again in the afternoon.”

“Then she can deal with what is in the sink. I’m not leaving a dirty table overnight.”

“Naturally not.” He placed his dishes and cutlery with hers. “I wasn’t trying to ignore your feelings, Miranda.”

“I don’t know how you can say that.” All the relaxation that dinner had managed drained out of her, leaving Randi’s body tense and her heart beating just a little fast. She stepped away from the sink, and Baz, before she turned to look up at him.

“Five years ago, when everything happened, I was only nineteen. Despite my past, I was still a very naive nineteen-year-old. I believed the best of people. When Davy came along, I thought he was really interested in me. My heart was bruised from my almost fiancé’s desertion and I soaked up his attention like a sponge. Do you want to know what I discovered on the one and only night we had sex?”

“What? What did you find out?” Baz asked, his voice husky, his accent just that little bit thicker.

“That he was only dating me, that he’d had sex with me, to get the dirt on the girl who had hit Carl and Tiffany Madison’s son with her car.”