Lynn Harris - Spanish Magnate, Red-Hot Revenge

“I know what you are thinking,” he said, his voice soft and sensual— and closer than she’d expected.

Her eyes popped open to find him hovering over her. She stopped swaying and gazed up at him. How could any one man be so attractive? He was like a fallen angel, with his dark hair and mesmerizing stare.

“No, you don’t,” she replied, her heart thrumming in her breast.

He slipped an arm around her, hauled her closer. “I am thinking of it too.”

Her brain sent the signal to back away, but too late. His other hand grasped one of hers, placed it on the hard muscle of his biceps. Another pull and she was flush against his body.

Breast to belly to hip. His arousal came as a surprise, and her breath broke on a gasp.

“Yes, I want you,” he said.

“But you hate me.”

His easy grin had the power to light the dark corners of her soul. He was so much like the old Alejandro in that moment that it made her ache.

“And you hate me. This does not stop our bodies from desiring one another, sí ?”

Lynn Raye Harrisread her first Harlequin Mills & Boon ®romance when her grandmother carted home a box from a yard sale. She didn’t know she wanted to be a writer then, but she definitely knew she wanted to marry a sheikh or a prince and live the glamorous life she read about in the pages. Instead, she married a military man and moved around the world. These days she makes her home in North Alabama, with her handsome husband and two crazy cats. Writing for Mills & Boon ®is a dream come true. You can visit her at www.lynnrayeharris.com

BY

LYNN RAYE HARRIS

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my husband, Mike,

who bought me my first computer and who

always believed. Thanks for putting up with take-out,

frozen dinners, and no dinners. You are my hero.

CHAPTER ONE

“THIS can’t be happening,” Rebecca Layton murmured.

She lifted her stunned gaze to the floor-to-ceiling picture window fronting her Waikiki suite. Of all the times to be away from New York. Palms swayed in the tropical trade winds, danced rhythmically against white-capped turquoise waves. So beautiful and peaceful. A stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside her.

She’d just gotten off the phone with Layton International’s chief financial officer. The news wasn’t good. If she didn’t get back to New York and take control of the situation she could lose everything. Her cell phone rang again and she automatically picked it up. Very few people had her private number, and even fewer would dare disturb her when she was on a business trip.

Unless it was important. And right now Layton International’s vulnerability was nothing short of cataclysmic.

“Yes?” she said as she reached for her planner. She could at least make a few calls while her executive assistant booked their return flight. She would not lose this company her family had built, in spite of the problems her father had left her with when he had died unexpectedly. He’d trusted her to take care of things. She would not fail him.

“Hello, Rebecca.”

Rebecca’s breath sliced into her lungs as her head whipped up. The planner slid from her lap. “Alejandro?”

“You did not expect to hear from me again, no ?”

Rebecca closed her eyes, her gut clenching with a mixture of need and sorrow. Five long years since she’d heard that voice speak her name. Once he’d meant everything to her. Now?

Now she couldn’t even begin to sort out how speaking to him made her feel. Sweat moistened her palms. “This is a bad time, Alejandro. I really can’t talk.”

His laugh, so cool and controlled, brought an image back to her. Alejandro Arroyo Rivera de Ramirez, the sexiest man she’d ever seen, naked to the waist, water streaming from his muscular chest in rivulets as he’d lifted himself from the pool. His sexy laugh as he’d scooped her up and hauled her into the bedroom. He hadn’t even dried off. The second she’d said yes he’d come for her. And then he’d spent the night showing her how amazing he truly was.

“You need only listen, querida .”

Something in his tone silenced her automatic protest.

Her heart kicked into double time. She reached for her forgotten wineglass, took a steadying sip.

“I expect you in Madrid in twenty-four hours. Spend the flight thinking how you will convince me to keep you on Layton International’s board of directors.”

Shock rocketed her to her feet. Her heart threatened to pound right out of her chest. “ You’re the one trying to steal my company?”

“You have made poor decisions, Rebecca. Do not continue to do so.” His voice dripped ice.

Rebecca speared a hand through her hair as cold sweat spread over her skin. Oh, God . She wasn’t the one who’d made poor decisions—but what did it matter now? Her father had thought he’d been doing the right thing.

They’d tumbled far in the five years since she’d last seen Alejandro. Then, she’d been the one with the knowledge about the hotel business, the one with the might of a multi-million-dollar company behind her. He’d been the new kid on the block, the one with everything to learn.

How had everything changed so drastically?

There was still time. Not much, but a little. She could turn it around, could stop him. She would stop him, or she wasn’t a Layton through and through. She forced herself to sound calm, controlled—though she was anything but. “It’s not over yet. You’re counting chickens.”

“Counting chickens?” His laugh jarred her with its sudden warmth. “Ah, one of your Americanisms.” She heard him speaking to someone in Spanish. “It is a done deal, Rebecca. Layton International belongs to Ramirez Enterprises.”

She felt the chill of his words as if someone had picked her up and thrust her into the arctic. It was an odd sensation, totally at odds with her memory of the heat he’d once incited. She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I don’t believe you.”

“Then stay in Hawaii while I hire a new CEO. Or come advise the board on how to handle my new acquisition. Your choice.”

He knew she was in Hawaii? Did he also know about the deal she’d just closed to acquire a chain of resorts in the islands?

The deal that would have saved everything in just a few short months. Rebecca sank onto a rattan chair as her legs refused to hold her up any longer. The certainty in his voice was undeniable.

She knew from personal experience how determined Alejandro could be when he wanted something. He didn’t rest until he’d won, until he’d imposed his will and gotten exactly what he wanted. If he was calling her now, he was very certain he had control.

Lock, stock and barrel, as her dad would have said. Jackson Layton was probably spinning in his grave right this instant. He’d never liked Alejandro, would be shattered to know the company he’d built had fallen into his enemy’s hands. And all because his daughter hadn’t seen it coming.

“I think I hate you,” she said softly.

“Then we are even.” The line went dead.

Rebecca leaned numbly against the soft leather seat of the Mercedes that had picked her up at the Madrid Barajas International Airport. She stared bleary-eyed at the scenery as the car carried her down the Gran Via.

He’d said he hated her. It shouldn’t surprise her, but somehow it did.