Jacqueline Baird - Mediterranean Tycoons - Dark & Demanding

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. I read history at university and thought I would visit all the great historical places in the world, but instead I have ended up in finance, a bit of a waste.’

‘The experience of university life is an end in itself,’ Nick argued. ‘And I do use my knowledge; I appreciate anything of beauty, be it a woman or a landscape, I know where to site a building so it is aesthetically pleasing, though, with the upsurge in tourism around here in the last few years, some are anything but.’

Liza chuckled. ‘I never thought of that.’

‘Have you ever thought of changing, Liza?’ Nick demanded seriously. ‘You’re young—you have plenty of time to start another career.’ He was satisfied he had discovered all he needed to know. Henry Brown was returning to Lanzarote. As for Liza, he was almost sure she was innocent of any crime, and, even if she was guilty, once away from financial temptation and into something more academic it was possible she could change, and he never questioned his reasoning, simply pursued the thought.

‘You could get out of finance and back into what you really want to do,’ he suggested. ‘It is never too late, Liza, believe me. I might even be able to help you.’

‘I suppose you’re right.’ Liza smiled. ‘But don’t take it so seriously, Nick; I’ll survive whatever.’ And she sat back with a sigh of contentment. ‘That meal was magnificent, Greta is a great cook.’

‘You can tell her that in a minute,’ Nick said curtly. He didn’t know why but her casual attitude infuriated him, had she no idea of the danger she was in? Did she even care? Pushing back his chair, he stood up. ‘Greta will serve coffee in the sitting room.’

But what was really bugging him was his superior intellect had apparently deserted him. He had already missed half of the family celebration in Spain and if he didn’t get back to his mother’s for the final party he and his mother were hosting tomorrow evening, his mother would never forgive him. But what to do with Liza? He dared not leave her alone on the island without telling Carl or he would never forgive him either.

He had been racking his brains to think of some way of persuading Liza to come to Spain with him, and incidentally keep her out of harm’s way, but was damned if he knew how to do it. Short of asking her ‘Will you come to Spain with me for the rest of the weekend?’ But he knew that would go down like a lead balloon, given that she had made a point of avoiding visiting the Menendez home for years.

No, he had to think of something else, and, confident as he was in his masculine powers of seduction, he doubted all the seductive technique in the world would convince Liza to fly off to Spain with him only a day after their meeting up again.

Rising to her feet, Liza followed him through into the elegant living room, wondering what had caused the sudden coolness in the atmosphere. She sat down on one of the soft hide sofas, the occasional table already held the accompaniments for coffee, and a moment later Greta appeared with a pot to add to the already prepared tray.

Liza smiled at the other woman and thanked her for a lovely meal, and then stiffened when Nick chose to sit down beside her on the sofa instead of taking the one opposite. During the meal there had been space between them and the atmosphere had been good most of the time, but now she sensed a tension in the air, and she felt distinctly crowded.

‘Will you be mother?’ Nick asked smoothly.

The words hung in the air as Liza had a vivid mental image of being mother to Nick’s child, a small dark-haired angel. Her face turned scarlet at the provocative thought and hastily she bent forward and filled two small cups with the aromatic coffee. ‘Sugar, milk?’ she asked, without looking at him.