thigh beneath the cover of the tablecloth.
Liza tensed in shock at his boldness and her own instant reaction to the long finger that caressed her inner thigh. She knocked his hand away, and glanced warily around, and only then did Liza realise the rest of the company had fallen silent and were watching her and Nick with varying degrees of interest. She wanted to slide under the table with embarrassment.
Surprisingly the lunch was not as bad as Liza had feared; the food was superb, and she might have quite enjoyed the spirited and lively conversation that ensued, except she could not dismiss from her mind the growing suspicion that somehow Nick’s reason for bringing her to Spain was not just because of his mother and the instant attraction between them, as she had believed.
Even admitting it had been pure coincidence that Anna had called while Liza was with Nick last night, Nick had deliberately mentioned her presence, knowing his mother would do what she had done and invite her to stay.
Liza had the nasty feeling she was somehow Nick’s second choice. His mother had thought he was meeting a Carl Dalk and bringing him back to the party. But Liza couldn’t see when Nick had had the time to meet this Dalk chap. Nick had told her he had just come from the airport and then he had spent virtually the whole day with her. Surely in the normal course of conversation he would have mentioned an urgent meeting; instead they had visited a building site for a few minutes. Maybe the two men had had some dangerous, illegal stunt in mind, like bunjee jumping into a volcanic crater in the Timanfaya National Park. According to Anna they were partners in such escapades, and then perhaps Carl Dalk had not turned up.
‘More wine, Liza?’
Liza looked up with a start, her blue eyes searching his handsome face; his expression was bland, his dark eyes revealing nothing. ‘No, thank you,’ she said firmly, recognising Nick was very good at hiding his feelings. But how much more was he hiding…?
He had been very insistent she come to the party. He had not actually lied and said his mother was ill, but he knew she had thought that was what he meant. She needed to talk to him, and she needed some answers; something smelt fishy, and it wasn’t the steak on her plate. But before she could pursue the subject Uncle Thomas asked her why a lovely girl like her was not married. Which caused great gales of laughter and a sardonic glance from Nick.
‘Because I have never found a man that suits me,’ she said with a grin. ‘Until I met you, Thomas, but unfortunately you’re taken,’ and banished her suspicions to the back of her mind in the laughter that followed.
The wine flowed freely, and when the older couples started reminiscing about the distant past, long before the rest were born, Anna suggested Nick take Liza and his cousins outside and show them his latest addition to the stables, a particularly fine racehorse.
Nick was standing, his hand on the halter of the magnificent black stallion, and smiling with obvious pride of ownership as he stroked the sleek, glossy neck. Everyone enthused over the animal.
Man and beast looked magnificent, Liza acknowledged. Two of a kind, superb male specimens. Nick looked so breathtakingly good-looking, devastatingly cool and in control of the animal. Choking back the sudden swell of emotion just watching him caused, she tore her gaze away, suddenly afraid he had been controlling her with the same accomplished ease.
She glanced around and a split-second later the colour drained from her face and involuntarily she shivered as she realised exactly where she was. The horse was in the one stall she had never wanted to see again.
Liza lifted appalled eyes just as Nick glanced in her direction, and the brilliant smile on his lean, strong face vanished as their eyes met, his expression suddenly harsh, and all her suspicions resurfaced with a vengeance.
Spinning around, Liza dashed back out of the stable, and for a moment leant against the wall, taking deep, steadying breaths, hating herself for panicking in front of everyone. It seemed in Nick’s company she could not help but regress into the besotted child she had once been, and it had to stop. Straightening up, she set off across the cobbled courtyard towards the house. To hell with Nick and his horses, she had had enough of both for the moment.
Nick handed the halter to Marco. ‘You four have a look around. I need to check on something,’ he said before he followed Liza out.
Liza had only gone a dozen yards when a strong arm wrapped around her waist and hauled her hard against a taut male body.
‘Where do you think you’re going?’ Nick demanded roughly.
‘Anywhere away from you,’ she shot back defiantly. She had made an enormous mistake. Nick did not need to say anything; it had been there in his face as he had glanced at her. He still thought she was no better than the slut he had accused her of being years ago, and she had compounded the notion by freely coming to Spain with him and succumbing with wild abandonment to his lovemaking. Whatever his reason for wanting her here, she was pretty sure it was not just his stated desire to sleep with her. He could have any woman he wanted, after all.
Nick hauled her around in one powerful arm and marched her towards the back of the house without a word.
‘Let go of me, you great brute,’ Liza cried, trying to break free.
‘No.’ His dark eyes without a glimmer of expression rested for a moment on her flushed, defiant face. ‘It was insensitive of me, I know, but save the recriminations until we get back to the house,’ he advised hardly.
‘Why the hell should I?’ Liza was hurting and suspicious and furious with herself for being such a push-over.
A black brow lifted sardonically. ‘Because this is a celebration, remember, fifty years married, and you are not going to cause a scene. Though how any man could stand a woman for fifty years is beyond me,’ he bit out cynically.
Hectic colour tinged her face. ‘Me, cause a scene. Your poor mother—’
‘Enough,’ Nick exploded. He was not used to having his actions questioned by anyone, and certainly not by a slip of a girl. Acting on impulse, he swung her off her feet and carried her through the kitchen, oblivious to the astonished looks of Manuel and the staff, and didn’t stop until he reached her room, and flung her on the bed.
‘Right, Liza, let’s have it,’ he demanded roughly.
For a stunned moment Liza thought he was referring to sex. Her face paled, and then a swift tide of red suffused her cheeks. ‘Why, you—’
‘My, but you do have a one-track mind…’ Nick drawled mockingly, the knowing light in his deep brown eyes telling her he had read her mind.
‘Hardly surprising around the Spanish Stud,’ she flung back.
‘Ah, Liza,’ he glanced down at her, viewing her angry expression with an indulgent smile, ‘you should not believe everything you read in the gossip columns.’ He grinned smugly. ‘Though I didn’t hear you complaining this morning—quite the contrary.’
His impregnable confidence in his masculine prowess made her temper rise to boiling point, and, leaping off the bed, she marched up to him.
‘I am glad you think it is funny.’ She poked him in the chest with a finger. ‘You conniving bas—’ Her wrist was caught in an iron grip and the insults stuck in her throat.
‘No one talks to me like that.’ Nick’s hard jawline clenched and glittering black
