Jacqueline Baird - At The Spaniard's Pleasure

How the hell was he going to explain to Carl that he had taken off with one of the prime suspects? His friend would think he was crazy. Maybe he was. But he knew he would do anything, pay anything, to keep Liza out of trouble with the law, and if that made him a fool, then so be it.

Liza was a walking, talking sex goddess. Either dressed in trousers and top with her glorious hair scraped back in a ponytail, as he had seen her this morning, or—with her hair a tumbled mass around her shoulders—elegant in a black wraparound dress that was just begging to be unwrapped. Crook or not, she turned him on without even trying.

To hell with it! He swore. Keeping her out of jail did not mean he had to keep her out of his bed….

To the rescue…armed with a ring!

Marriage is their mission!

Look for the next thrilling title in this

adventurous new series.

The Yuletide Engagement

by

Carole Mortimer

On sale in December, #2364

Coming soon from

Harlequin Presents

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CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

NICK MENENDEZ irritably drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of the Jeep he had picked up at the airport. He had expected to be in Lanzarote by nine at the latest. He’d arrived in his own plane and he was still late because there’d been no landing slot. Heads would roll… He was a man who got what he wanted when he wanted it, and he did not appreciate being frustrated by anything or anyone! But he should have guessed, he thought, his mouth tightening angrily. Any damn thing connected to Liza Summers, a blonde, blue-eyed siren, had always caused him frustration of one kind or another…

A wry smile twisted his firm lips. No, if he was being honest, his frustration was not really Liza’s fault. They had been good friends years ago until he had caught her kissing a young man, and overreacted. With hindsight he could admit it; he had been jealous as hell, he had wanted to be Liza’s first lover, but, as he was engaged to someone else at the time, he had been in no position to do anything about it.

Then, last night at his home in Malaga, he had been reading the latest report from one of his companies, a security firm that was doing some work for a pal of his, when her name had leapt off the page.

Last month Carl Dalk, a friend from his university days whose family owned a diamond mine in South Africa, had contacted him and asked for his help and he had immediately agreed. As students they had been white-water rafting together when Nick was thrown from the raft and knocked unconscious. It was Carl who had dragged him from the raging torrent; he owed the man his life. And though they saw each other infrequently, they’d remained good friends.

Nick had joined his father in the family firm straight after university, a small but one of the most prestigious merchant banks in Spain. Over the years Nick had expanded and diversified the business into the vast international corporation it was today. Carl was one of the few people who knew that one of Nick’s holdings was a very discreet security agency. It was an agency that had assisted in many sensitive investigations, both corporate and criminal, worldwide, and liaised on a regular basis with the Spanish government on matters of security.

Carl had called on Nick’s security firm because twice in the past year diamonds had been stolen from the mine. The clever part was after the thieves had ascertained the value of the diamonds they had been offered back to Carl’s insurers at roughly half their worth.

With the consent of the police, and in the hope of catching the thieves red-handed, the insurance company had arranged to pay up. Not surprisingly, as it meant the insurers saved money by not having to repay the full cost of the diamonds. But it had not stopped the insurance company putting up the cost of Carl’s premiums, but, worse than that, the plan had not worked…

Both times the thieves after exchanging the diamonds had managed to give the authorities the slip.

Carl’s business was in real trouble; what with the influx of cheaper diamonds from Russia over the last few years, and the invention of man-made diamonds, he had seen his firm’s profits slump to an all-time low. The drastic fall in the stock market over the same period had seriously depleted the firm and family funding. Carl had a serious cash-flow problem and now there had been another theft… Nick had offered to help him out financially, and had put the expertise of the security agency at Carl’s disposal.

Reading the last report, Nick had been confident that this time Carl with the help of the agency and the Spanish police were well on the way to catching the thieves, and then he spotted the name Liza Summers. He had called the manager of the security firm, and discovered that it was none other than THE Liza Summers, the daughter of his mother’s best friend.

Nick had promised to spend the whole weekend in Spain with his mother to attend a series of parties arranged to celebrate the golden-wedding anniversary of her brother, Uncle Thomas. That plan was seriously curtailed when he’d decided to take the place of his top investigator, and make a flying visit to Lanzarote. If anyone was going to question Liza it was going to be him. It was six years since he had seen her, but whatever else she had become he found it hard to believe she could be involved in these thefts as the report suggested.

Which was why it was now almost eleven and he was stuck at the crossing to the drawbridge in Arrecife as a group of tourists, obviously from the cruise ship in the harbour, made their way over the road. Usually he loved visiting Lanzarote, also known as Isla de las Volcanoes. The landscape was surreal, completely covered by over a hundred and thirty volcanoes, with craters and fields of petrified lava. He had owned a villa here for years on the edge of the Timanfaya National Park, as did the king of Spain and the crowned heads of a few Arab countries. It was a place that allowed him to relax out of the public eye and do his own thing. But not today, he thought grimly, his irritation increasing by the minute at the thought of what lay ahead.

The information that had brought Nick dashing to the island caused deep frown lines in his austere but strikingly handsome face as his gaze swept over the scene before him. His hard glance flickered over the kiosk café on the promenade to the taxi rank, where another hold-up was causing chaos. Then abruptly returned to the café, his dark eyes flaring then narrowing on the single female seated at one of the tables.