the final huge party in the evening.
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Liza, but then again he remembered she had been a very volatile teenager, and if her wildness in bed was anything to go by she hadn’t changed much. She would probably blow her top and land one on him for his treachery, and any hope of resuming what they had started on the plane would be distinctly remote.
Denying the temptation to reach out to her and take up where they had left off, explore her gorgeous body once more, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, and turned his head to bark out a quick order to Manuel’s retreating back.
The blue room. Liza had never heard of it, but then she had not been here for years, and she did not know if she was relieved or reluctant to part from Nick. Glancing down the long length of him, she almost changed her mind; with his hands in his pockets and the fabric of his trousers pulled taut across muscular thighs, his potent masculinity was unmistakable…
Get your head up, girl—she jerked her head back and a tide of red flooded her cheekbones. When had she become such a voyeur of men? She sighed inwardly; not men—one man. ‘The blue room; I don’t think I have seen it before,’ she mumbled.
‘Maybe not; there have been some extensive renovations since you were last here.’ Nick slanted her a dark-eyed glance. ‘But it is not mine, I can assure you, so I hope your honour is satisfied,’ he drawled sardonically.
‘Yes,’ she snapped, ‘thank you,’ and gave him what she hoped was a cool look. He might have well as added if you have any, she thought as his dark eyes studied her with cynical, all masculine appraisal. And, straightening her shoulders, she stalked off after Manuel, but in one step Nick was beside her.
‘In a hurry to get to bed?’ he teased softly, bending his dark head to brush the words against her ear, and his husky chuckle did nothing for her attempt to remain cool.
She didn’t bother to answer and a grandfather clock chimed one, disturbing the silence as Liza walked along the corridor with Nick keeping step beside her. Manuel stopped and opened a door, and, placing Liza’s case inside, gave her a toothy smile and went back the way they had come.
Liza almost fell into the room, such was her haste to get away from Nick’s overwhelming presence. Making love with him—no, having sex, she corrected—had done nothing to quell the heated response of her body. In fact it seemed to have sharpened every one of her senses. Now she knew what she had been missing all these years. She was so intensely aware of him she ached.
‘Goodnight,’ she muttered, and would have shut the door in his face, but she was too slow. Nick reached for her and pulled her into his powerful arms, his mouth came crashing down on hers, and a shocked protest was stopped in her throat as excitement spiralled inside her like a typhoon, throwing all her sense out of sight.
His hands dropped to splay against her hips and haul her into connection with the hard strength of his arousal; she felt the sudden rush of warmth between her thighs as he moved suggestively against her. She lifted her hands but Nick suddenly lifted his head, and stepped back.
‘Now, that is a goodnight kiss,’ he drawled mockingly, studying her with dancing devilment in his black eyes. ‘The bathroom is on the left. See you later.’ And then he was gone, closing the door quietly behind him.
Liza stared at the closed door, and only after the long moment it took her to get her breathing somewhere near normal did she turn and glance around the room. A massive four-poster bed, draped in yards of the finest blue silk, and with a delicately embroidered coverlet in a deeper blue, was the central feature. Long arched windows with the same drapes hedged each side of the bed. She walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, kicking off her shoes. She glanced at the wall opposite, which housed a delicate dressing table with a fragile-looking gilt chair; her case was on the top of what looked like an antique trunk in one corner. She noted the bathroom door, again blue but edged in gold. The whole décor was blue and gold, a bit over-the-top for her taste but exquisite none the less.
With a weary sigh she stood up and, crossing to her case, she opened it and quickly unpacked her few clothes into the ornate wardrobe, and then headed for the bathroom.
The bathroom was equally as luxurious, all marble and mirrors with a large bath and shower stall. Stripping off her clothes, she took a quick shower, and, stepping out of the shower stall, she crossed to where a pile of towels were neatly stacked. She caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror, and stopped, blushing scarlet. The tell-tale signs of Nick’s lovemaking were obvious. A slight bruise in the hollow of her throat, lower down a redness on her pale skin where the rough stubble of his chin had made a mark as he suckled her breasts. She felt her nipples tighten just at the memory.
Hastily she grabbed a large, fluffy towel from the pile and tugged it sarong-style around her slender body, refusing to look at her reflection again. The reminder was too poignant. She darted out of the bathroom, switched off the main light and dived under the sumptuous coverlet into bed by the light of a small night lamp on a table at the other side.
The traitorous thought that she could have been sharing the bed with Nick filled her mind. She lived again in her head every kiss and caress they had shared on the plane, and she wondered if she would ever experience again that passion or depth of emotion. She stirred restlessly in the bed, her body hot and wanting, she ran the tip of her tongue over her slightly swollen lips and lived again the touch of his mouth on hers. Swallowing hard, she tried to squash her wayward thoughts.
Their recent intimacy meant nothing, and she must never forget that, her common sense told her that she was only a temporary distraction for Nick Menendez. But her heart told her she was in dire danger of falling hopelessly and irretrievably in love with him. The love she had thought she felt for him as a teenager was as nothing to the power of her emotions now.
She had never known that desire could cut so deep, and she had the horrible conviction if she gave in to her feelings for him completely she would end up cut to shreds. Because the one thing she knew for certain was Nick Menendez would never see her as anything other than a brief distraction from his real life. He was a ruthlessly successful businessman of worldwide renown, and a Spanish grandee to boot, held in high esteem by all his countrymen.
She was here because his mother had invited her, albeit at Nick’s instigation, of that she had no doubt. He obviously cared for his mother, and he was not averse to taking advantage of the sex Liza had quite consciously shown him was on offer. He had made it equally as plain a brief affair was all he wanted. She could hardly change her mind now. If she was honest she didn’t want to…and with a bittersweet sigh she turned over and reached to extinguish the night-light.
Her heavy-lidded eyes registered another door set in the opposite wall, a dressing room maybe. She was too tired to think and, burrowing under the coverlet, in moments she was asleep.
But not peacefully, she tossed restlessly in the wide bed. In her dream she was running naked through a deep, dense forest, chasing after a huge dark, shadowy figure. Every so often the figure stopped and waited and she had a glimpse of a welcoming smile, and just when she thought she was in touching distance the figure vanished to appear well ahead of her, beckoning her on again. But the faster she ran the more naked, the more exposed she felt and the wood became thicker, darker, utterly silent, and somehow menacing.
She frowned in her sleep, fighting to escape the nightmare, her long lashes fluttering against her smooth cheek prior to opening, then inexplicably she felt a fleeting kiss as soft as a butterfly’s wing across her brow. A deep, contented sigh escaped from between her softly parted lips and she closed her eyes once more in sleep, totally unaware of the man watching over her.
Drawing
