At the Spaniard's Pleasure

Tense wasn’t the word. Nick walked out onto the balcony, and flicked on his mobile phone. He had spoken to Carl early this morning when Liza was sleeping, and knew Brown’s yacht had just berthed in the marina at Teguise. He also knew the transfer of cash and diamonds had been set for ten-thirty at a remote spot in the Timanfaya National Park. What Nick was hoping for was that whoever made the transfer would head straight back to Henry Brown and they would all be picked up.

He glanced at the Rolex on his wrist—it was almost one—and waited impatiently while the telephone rang. He prayed Carl would have the information he wanted.

He had talked Liza out of leaving this morning but he couldn’t delay her much longer. Not that it mattered now. He had never had any intention of taking her back to Lanzarote; once on board his jet, they were heading for England, a two-and-a-half-hour flight. By the time Liza realised and they landed, she wouldn’t have time to go back to the island.

Liza was still suspicious. He had sensed a wariness in her the last week and she had asked him again last night how he knew her boss when he was arranging their departure for today. He had changed the subject by making love to her, but she would not be diverted forever that way.

His lips twitched in a fleeting smile; though he would love to try. Dios! but she was good! The blunt thought made him frown. Good wasn’t the word to describe how he felt when he touched her naked body, felt the heat of her when he knelt in the delta of her thighs, the heightened sensations that made him tremble like a teenager with his first girl. Nick groaned, he ached with the need she aroused in him.

When this call was over and he had arranged to keep Liza in the clear…that was if Carl ever answered; he frowned at the continuing ringing tone. He was going to tell her the truth. His honour would not allow him to do less, and then if she was still willing they could continue their relationship with no secrets…totally open.

‘Carl here.’

‘What’s happened?’ Nick demanded. ‘Have you picked Brown up yet?’

‘Mission accomplished.’ Carl’s voice rang with triumph. ‘Would you believe Brown called at Daidolas’s when he left the yacht to go to his hotel? He couldn’t resist checking the diamonds again before they were handed over to the courier for the exchange, and we have the whole thing on video. Brown was getting far too complacent—he should have remembered third time lucky, or unlucky in his case. The courier arrived at the meeting place and we trailed him straight back to Brown at his hotel. We picked them both up along with Daidolas.’

‘Great!’ Nick exclaimed.

Liza reached the top step that led out through a double door onto the balcony when she heard Nick’s voice, and wondered who he was talking to. She froze at the mention of her boss’s name.

Totally unaware of Liza’s presence, Nick carried on. ‘So we finally got that thieving bastard Henry Brown. I hope they lock him up for years. Congratulations.’

‘With a lot of help from you, Nick. Your questioning of the girl and keeping tabs on her was brilliant. But when are you bringing her back?’

‘Keeping tabs on Liza was no hardship,’ Nick chuckled, the relief he felt that the whole thing was almost over immense. ‘But I wanted to talk to you about her.’ He hitched a hip onto the balcony rail, and let his glance roam over the view before him, searching for the right words. ‘I

know we thought Liza was involved with Brown in the theft of the diamonds when she delivered them for him. Now you have Brown under lock and key in a Spanish jail with the rest of them…’

Liza listened with mounting horror as Nick’s deep, melodious voice spelt out exactly what he thought of her. A diamond thief! She tuned out the rest—she didn’t need to hear how he was going to deliver her to jail.

Suddenly everything was crystal-clear in her shocked mind, and she had never felt so shamed and humiliated in her whole life, and she had only herself to blame.

All Nick’s questions about her job and her boss and her movements took on a sinister slant. As soon as she’d met up with Anna, Liza had been suspicious of Nick’s motives for taking her to Spain and she had been right all along about him knowing the name Henry Brown without her telling him. He had been having him followed.

But she had let herself be convinced that it was Nick’s overwhelming desire for her that had driven him to the deception. Then when she found herself at the ski-cabin instead of an airport she had fallen for his overwhelming-desire routine a second time.

What kind of sex-starved idiot did that make her, when she was stupid enough to believe his double deception? The bitter truth was all the time he had been keeping her under surveillance because he thought she was a jewel thief.

Liza felt like screaming her anguish at the mountains. She had been braving herself to say a sophisticated goodbye at the end of a holiday romance, and the lying, deceitful… The words escaped her.

Fury as ferocious as it was primitive swamped her. She wanted to scratch Nick’s lying eyes out, and in a red haze of rage she dashed towards him.

CHAPTER TEN

‘WHAT the hell…?’ Nick exclaimed. He caught a brief glimpse of Liza as a small clenched fist caught him on his jaw and sent him reeling backwards. He made a wild grab for the rail and just stopped himself plunging thirty feet to the snow-covered ground below.

‘You bastard!’ she yelled. She saw his head jerk back and his great body sway, and stopped dead, paralysed by fear at where her anger had almost led. She might have killed him. Frozen in shock, she simply stared as he leapt towards her. Two strong hands grabbed her by the shoulders and his black eyes, leaping with fury, clashed with hers. ‘I’m—’ sorry; the word formed in her mouth but he cut her off.

‘Have you taken leave of your senses, you stupid bitch?’ he roared. ‘You could have killed me.’

It was the stupid bitch that did it. Snapped out of her frozen horror, she forgot any intention of apologising. Flinging back her head, she met his furious gaze with bitter, angry eyes. ‘Pity I didn’t,’ she snapped, ruthlessly banking down the pain that she could feel twisting inside her. He had lied and cheated once too often, hurt her for the last time, and fiercely she held his black gaze as the tension stretched between them, determined not to look away, not to show any sign of weakness. She had been weak where Nick was concerned for far too long.

‘What did you say?’ Nick hissed with sibilant softness, finally breaking the lengthening silence, and it was only the clenched muscles of his implacable face, and the fingers digging into her shoulders that betrayed his barely contained fury.

‘You heard,’ Liza said, her voice toneless. ‘But don’t worry, Nick, I will never touch you again. It is quite enough for me to be known as a thief, without adding murderer.’

Nick’s hand moved from one shoulder and grasped her chin, roughly tilting her face up to within inches of his own, his breath warm against her skin, his eyes dark and violent. ‘You nearly kill me and that is all you have got to say,’ he snarled. ‘Dios mio! You are unbelievable. You overheard something you didn’t like and lashed out without even waiting for an explanation.’