resented his body’s betrayal, but finding Liza so quickly was the first bit of luck he had had all morning. An accidental meeting was much more convenient than calling at her hotel. He had not seen the woman in six years, and if anything she was even more beautiful then he remembered, on the outside at least, he qualified cynically, remembering the task at hand.
Damn the law! He parked the Jeep at the side of the road and leapt out.
‘Liza… Liza Summers…’
Liza clashed her coffee-cup down on the saucer, the deep, drawling voice making her hand shake. Oh, no! Silently she groaned. This could not be happening. She hadn’t heard that voice since she was a teenager. Now, on a tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic it echoed in her head like a ghost from the past.
‘I thought it was you.’
A tall, dark shadow loomed over her, blocking out the sun. Her eyes were on a level with strong masculine thighs clad in denim. She swallowed hard and slowly lifted her head; a tapered waist flared out to a broad chest, every muscle and sinew clearly delineated by a simple black T-shirt, and up to bulging biceps, and even broader shoulders.
She tilted her head back, and her heart skipped a beat; his face was in shadow but she would have recognised him anywhere. ‘You!’ she exclaimed as her blue eyes clashed with deep dark brown. Niculoso Menendez… The years rolled back and she was eight again and meeting him for the first time.
Her father had just died and her mum’s good friend Anna Menendez had invited Liza and her mother, Pamela, for a holiday at her home in Spain. The two women had attended the same boarding-school in England. Anna was the daughter of a Spanish diplomat and Pamela was the daughter of a serving army officer. Anna had married a wealthy Spaniard and Pam had married an army man. The two women had kept in touch over the years, mostly as pen pals.
Memories of the past flooded Liz’s mind. Niculoso had fascinated her the first time she saw him, at eighteen he was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen. She had been so busy staring at him that she had stumbled and fallen on the stone-flagged courtyard, skinning her knee. She had cried, but Niculoso had picked her up, smiled at her and carried her on his shoulders into the imposing house.
He had been her hero from that moment on. He was the big brother she had never had and she had looked forward to the three weeks at the Menendez country house every summer.
‘Do you mind if I join you? I haven’t seen you in years.’ Nick’s deep, husky voice cut across her reverie.
‘What?’ she mumbled, still reeling from the shock of his sudden appearance. It was Nick who had taught her to ride, and saved her from many a fall from trees, cliffs, and on one memorable occasion when she had fallen from her horse. But at fourteen her feelings for him had changed when she had developed an enormous crush on him, and done everything in her power to try and attract his attention to her blossoming femininity.
‘You don’t sound too pleased to see me.’ Nick lifted a hand and signalled to the waiter and ordered a coffee. ‘Would you like a refill?’
‘No… Yes…’ she stammered like an idiot, but she was stunned. He had appeared from nowhere like a genie out of a bottle, filling her mind with kaleidoscopic memories.
Their past relationship had ended in disaster when she was sixteen. Overflowing with unrequited love, she had been devastated when she was introduced to Nick’s fiancée, a stunningly attractive woman called Sophia, a distant relative of the family.
Suddenly Liza had seen her mother and herself for what they were. The poor friends who were given a holiday out of charity. That summer she had rebelled and gone out with one of the stable boys. It was just her bad luck the one time they were fooling around in an empty stall and she had let him kiss her, Nick had seen them. Nick with a face like thunder…
An involuntary shiver feathered down her spine, and her heartbeat quickened perceptibly. She did not want to think about what had happened next. But the scales had certainly fallen from her eyes where Nick was concerned. Nick Menendez was an arrogant, overbearing, stuck-up, chauvinist pig. Liza had kept out of his way for the rest of her stay, and if he had happened to see her he frowned at her with contempt obvious in his hard eyes. Liza had been relieved when they finally left and she’d never gone back.
Shaking her head in an attempt to dispel the memories of the past, she glanced up at him. He had moved slightly and the sun glinted off his striking features, and her heart stopped in her throat.
One dark brow arched enquiringly. ‘So may I sit down?’ His voice was a deep, slightly accented drawl that held a hint of mockery.
‘Please do,’ she finally managed to respond civilly. Though she was still shocked at the amazing coincidence of bumping into Niculoso in Lanzarote. Since the death of his father she guessed he had inherited the family company. She had seen his name in the gossip columns occasionally, when he’d attended a charity do, a première or the races, and grimaced at the reference to the Spanish Stud, supposedly a reference to the famous Menendez stud farm, but the double entendre was obvious. Still, Liza tried to avoid reading such rubbish.
‘The last time we met must have been my father’s funeral,’ Nick prompted, pulling out a chair.
‘Oh, yes,’ Liza murmured politely. That was another day she would rather forget. She had just turned nineteen and was at university in London, and living in the halls of residence. Her mum had insisted Liza travel to Spain with her for the funeral. Nick had still been engaged to the glorious Sophia and Liza had found him just as disturbing then, and when he had deigned to notice her his expression was still one of scowling contempt.
Liza hadn’t seen him since. She wished he would sit down instead of holding the chair and towering over her like some great, dark bird of prey. He was smiling down at her like a long-lost friend, and somehow it didn’t ring true. A vulture about to pick her bones was more likely, she thought drily.
‘Well, Niculoso, fancy meeting you here,’ she said coolly, her mind spinning. ‘I thought you lived in Antequera.’
‘My mother still does. But I am a big boy now, Liza. I left home years ago,’ he drawled mockingly, and finally sat down beside her. He was big and he was more striking than ever, she realised, her skin breaking out in goose-pimples as his arm accidentally brushed hers.
‘As, I believe, did you after university,’ Nick continued, apparently casually. A large hand reached out and covered her much smaller one resting on the table, and to her amazement something akin to an electric shock sizzled up her arm. ‘My mother speaks about you often and it is really good to see you again,’ he said and squeezed her hand.
Good to see her! He had to be kidding… He could not stand the sight of her… Liza felt the colour rise in her cheeks. She had told herself she hated him for years and yet incredibly his touch sent a frisson of excitement flooding through her. Her stunned blue gaze clashed with deep dark brown—was it sincerity she saw in their depths? Never in a million years… She wasn’t falling for his Latin charm ever again. ‘Yes. Well…’ she murmured inconsequentially.
‘Forgive me for surprising you. I caught a glimpse of you and could not believe my eyes. You have developed into a stunning woman, Liza.’
Niculoso Menendez giving her a compliment! He had to be joking after the scathing things he had said about her in the past. ‘Thank you, I think,’ she said with a trace of sarcasm. She pulled her hand free from beneath his and lowered her eyes from his too astute gaze.
Liza
