placed her glass on the table. Quickly she picked up a spoon and began shovelling the soup into her mouth. When she dared look up again, she needed not have worried.
‘Impossible. I already adore you, as you know; I have since you were a child,’ he said smoothly, his expression wryly amused. ‘Now, let us enjoy our meal, and you can tell me what you have been doing with your life over the past few years.’ His smile was irresistible.
‘Not a lot.’ Flattered, Liza grinned back. ‘And certainly nothing exciting enough to need privacy before disclosure.’ And she proceeded to give him a potted history of her adult life. ‘Three years in university reading history, and a job I enjoy, as I told you before. I have a studio apartment in London and I visit my mother every few weeks. She got married again three years ago and lives in Brighton, running an antique shop with Jeff, my stepfather. These are hardly state secrets.’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Nick responded with a devilish gleam in his dark eyes. ‘You might have become a porn star or a lap dancer; you certainly have the figure for it. And then there are your lovers. You have a high-powered job so maybe a lover or two in high places as well?’
His sexy teasing brought an embarrassing tinge of pink to her cheeks. Was he insinuating that was all she was good for, as he had years ago? Liza wondered, but refused to rise to the bait. ‘You know what I do for a living.’ She held his gaze. ‘But as for the rest, that is classified information,’ she managed to respond archly, much to her satisfaction.
Nick just bet it was. She was either very clever or very naive, and Liza looked far too sophisticated to be naive. He could not decide if she was completely in the know about her boss’s alternative career as a diamond smuggler or not, but for Carl’s sake he was taking no chances.
One eyebrow rose eloquently. ‘Of course, I expected no less, Liza.’ And the sardonic glance he cast her was oddly intent. ‘Though I have heard Henry Brown is not quite so reticent in his love life, although he is married, I believe.’
For a moment something unsettling about his comment teased at the back of her mind. But, dismissing the errant thought, she responded drily, ‘Henry is a law unto himself where women are concerned. And, though personally I deplore unfaithfulness in a marriage, I must admit, having met his wife, I’m not surprised.’ She tried for a sophisticated answer. Plus Margot Brown was a pretentious snob; the few times she visited the office or spoke to Liza or any of the staff she treated them as if they were a sub-species.
‘I believe you; after all, it must be great to have a boss who books a suite at a five-star hotel to attend a conference then quite happily takes off and gives you a holiday with all expenses paid at the drop of a hat. I must confess I am nowhere near as generous with my employees,’ Nick drawled sardonically.
Liza looked up sharply. What was he implying? And she answered her own question. She wasn’t a fool, she could tell when she was being insulted, and the old hurt resurfaced, causing a brief stabbing pain in her heart. Obviously he still thought of her as a promiscuous teenager and her blue eyes glinted with anger at the injustice of it all. ‘It is a two-bedroom suite.’ She held on to her temper with difficulty, determined not to show any emotion over the past in front of him. ‘And my boss was called away unexpectedly.’ Straightening in her seat, she added with contrived flippancy, ‘So who am I to argue? You know the saying, never look a gift-horse in the mouth.’
‘Yes.’ He did, but at the mention of ‘mouth’ Nick found his eyes fixed on the very generous curve of Liza’s, and imagined nibbling that full bottom lip… Dios! He had to stop these thoughts. He never mixed business with pleasure. But then he had never been confronted by the adult Liza before.
Dropping his gaze to the less tempting table, he continued in a softer tone, ‘I suppose you are right, Liza. But isn’t it rather odd that he does not want you to attend the meetings?’
‘I…well…’ Liza hesitated; his quite reasonable question made her think and defused her anger. She supposed it was a bit unusual.
‘I really don’t know.’ She told the truth. ‘I have only been his PA for a couple of months; his last one left to get married, and, as my boss retired about the same time, Henry sort of inherited me,’ she explained, not sure why she was bothering. ‘This is the first time I have travelled with him. And he is returning a week next Friday for the last day and the gala dinner in the evening, so maybe it will not be a complete waste.’
‘I hope not.’ Nick had the information he required and a flash of triumph glinted in his dark eyes; the man was coming back to the island in thirteen days’ time. The time span was about right for the negotiations; obviously Brown was returning to collect the money and he was as good as caught. A call to Carl, and, with the other culprits tracked down hopefully by the Spanish police and Interpol, the arrests were a foregone conclusion.
‘Yes, and we are returning to London together the next day, as scheduled,’ Liza added.
Not if he could help it, was Nick’s immediate thought. Liza had said she had only been Brown’s PA for a short time; that was easily checked and if true was in Liza’s favour. She could be innocent. His dark eyes narrowed assessingly on her apparently guileless face. A woman could look beautiful and innocent and still be a criminal. He was not foolish enough to think otherwise, and yet he knew he didn’t want Liza anywhere near Henry Brown when they picked him up.
At the very least she would end up being taken in for questioning, and that he could not allow. Surprisingly for him, he discovered he was not ready to part with Liza now he had met up with her again. At his age and with his experience of women, he knew the feeling for what it was—lust, stark and basic…
Liza had been an itch he could not scratch for years when she was younger, but not any more. He wanted to sate himself in that gorgeous body until she was out from under his skin for good.
Nick lifted the champagne flute and took a sip of the wine, then twirled the stemmed glass in his long fingers, studying the colour for several seconds, thinking quickly. Finally he shifted his dark gaze to linger appreciatively on her.
‘Your boss is a very lucky man,’ he declared huskily, his firm lips curving in a soft, sensual smile, ‘to have you as his PA.’ Little did Brown know, his luck had just about run out, Nick thought with savage satisfaction even as he mouthed the slick compliment.
‘Thanks,’ she said drily. But felt the colour rise in her cheeks as her eyes met his, too conscious of his virile charm and something in his expression that made her heartbeat increase dramatically. She finished her soup to hide her confusion, and was grateful when Greta reappeared with the next course.
As Nick had promised, the food was beautiful, and as they ate Nick took charge of the conversation and Liza was happy to follow. They talked in an easy manner, discussing films, books, music, and Nick’s experiences on various projects. Liza was fascinated and asked dozens of questions. He told her how he had expanded the company worldwide. He spoke with dry humour of the different business practices in the different countries, and the amusing situations that arose from the differences.
Nick was not the wealthy, idle lotus-eater she had thought; he obviously worked hard. But his skill, his charm, was such that he made everything appear easy. He told a good story, sometimes against himself, but she formed the impression that whatever the circumstances Nick always came out the winner. He had a brilliant mind, and she doubted anyone crossed him and got away with it.
Scraping the last mouthful of the mouth-watering soufflé into her mouth, she glanced up at him through the thick fringe of her lashes. ‘In a way you and I are a bit alike—you studied art and don’t use it.
