Mediterranean Tycoons: Dark & Demanding: At The Spaniard's Pleasure / A Most Passionate Revenge / The Italian Billionaire's Ruthless Revenge

He dragged in a deep, calming breath. Marriage was not on his agenda, and if he ever succumbed it would only be for the production of a child to inherit the Menendez fortune. But not for years yet—he enjoyed his freedom too much, and certainly not to a girl like Liza, who he still was not sure he could trust as far as he could throw her.

His dark eyes narrowed angrily, and something darker, devious hardened in their depths. He had wanted Liza Summers from the very first moment he saw her again at the café. His thick black lashes flicked down towards the sharp line of his high cheekbones, veiling his expression, and he allowed his gaze to linger on her perfectly formed body, the slightly creased black dress she was wearing a testament to their earlier passionate encounter, and then back to her face.

Exquisite: the pale skin, the long blonde hair, the lush mouth and the brilliant blue eyes that were shooting sparks at the moment. Sparks that told him she was absolutely determined not to share his bed beneath his mother’s roof.

He gritted his teeth and had to use all his famed self-control to prevent himself from sweeping her into his arms and carrying her to his bed. He had not had enough of her, not nearly enough, but he knew instinctively talking would not change her mind. He would have to be more subtle. But the irony of it was he knew they could have what was left of the night together, because his mother was spending the night with his uncle and aunt in Granada, attending their own golden-wedding dinner and a blessing in the cathedral on Sunday morning, and that they were all coming back here for lunch and 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 in a deep, steadying breath, Nick tightened the belt of his short robe, a wry smile curving his hard mouth, his dark eyes lingering on Liza’s sleeping form.

He had called Carl and passed on the information that Brown was returning to Lanzarote to finalise the deal and when. But he avoided mentioning that Liza was supposed to meet up with Brown. He had lied by omission to his friend, something he had never done before. When Carl asked him about Liza he had assured him he had her under very close surveillance with him in Spain. But he was pretty sure Liza was not knowingly involved, and he would take personal responsibility for her. Carl was not happy; at the very least, he had pointed out, Liza would be a vital witness when they brought the case to court. It had taken some very persuasive argument on Nick’s part to get Carl to do nothing about Liza for the moment.

Then he had paced his bedroom for over an hour, determined not to give in to the temptation of the connecting door that joined his room to hers. Even if by some miracle Liza was innocent, he knew an affair with her was bound to cause trouble, given their mothers were great friends. Never foul your own nest, he reminded himself.

But for once in his life his ardour had overcome the armour he usually had no problem keeping around his emotions. Only this witch of a woman made him weak. He dropped his dark gaze down to her firm, full breasts and involuntarily his hand moved, but firmly he shoved it in the pocket of his robe.

When he had walked through the connecting door he had fully intended joining Liza in the bed. But, seeing her lying there, her beautiful face frowning in sleep, he had bent to gently kiss away the worry from her brow, hoping she would wake. But, hearing her sigh, seeing her relax back into a deep sleep, he was content to do nothing more… Turning, he left the room.

CHAPTER SIX

LIZA shivered, feeling the chill in the air, her long eyelashes fluttering over half-open eyes. A watery sun illuminated the room in a blue haze, and she pulled the cover up to her neck and shifted sleepily. For a moment she did not know where she was, then memory returned. Of course—Spain; it was not as hot in winter here as Lanzarote.

Oh, God! Nick!

Liza twisted around and a dozen unfamiliar aches and pains in places she never knew she had made her groan. What had she done? Suddenly the erotic memories of the night before suddenly overwhelmed every other thought in her head. Had she really made love with Nick on the plane? Just the thought made her temperature rise. Nick was every woman’s fantasy lover. Her whole body blushed as she recalled her own feverish abandonment to the power of his lovemaking, and she no longer felt in the least chilled.

She pushed the coverlet back down to her waist, and drew in a deep, steadying breath. So they had made love, and she was now a fully paid-up member of the mile-high club. Not something she had ever aspired to, but, being honest, she did not regret it… But it was only a holiday affair, she reminded herself quickly.

Perhaps not even that; Nick had quite happily accepted her ‘No’ to making love in his mother’s house, and now, with the memory of the passion and the pleasure fresh in her mind, she wondered if she had been too adamant in her refusal to share his room.

She was a grown woman and perfectly entitled to explore her own sexuality, live for the moment if she wanted to, and, dear heaven, she wanted to, she thought wryly. There was no point in denying it, and, reaching her arms above her head, she stretched languorously, relishing the new sensually aware woman Nick had made her.

‘Now, that is a picture worth preserving.’ A deep, husky drawl shattered the silence.

Liza froze at full stretch, her gaze winging to the tall man entering the room, a tray in his hands… Nick. She studied him with helpless appreciation as he approached the bed, obviously fresh from the shower—his black hair was brushed severely back from his brow and his incredibly attractive face radiated vitality. A white towelling robe covered him from shoulder to knee, but afforded a glimpse of a hair-roughened chest. Her heart lurched at the sight of him.

‘I wish I had a camera,’ Nick murmured, studying her tousled appearance. With her long blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders and her arms above her head, the smooth, creamy lift of her perfect breasts was enough to make him harden. The dusky peaks tightening as he watched didn’t help.

Suddenly Liza realised she had parted with the towel some time in the night, and she was naked from the waist up, and Nick’s gaze was fixed on a certain part of her anatomy. Making a mad grasp for the coverlet, she pulled it up and tucked it firmly over her breasts, her face flaming.

What did you say to a man that you had had sex with on a plane? It was not a scenario she was familiar with, and her stomach cramped with nervous tension, but before she could think of a flip reply to fling back he added, ‘You’d make a great centrefold.’

His words underlined her secret fear; Nick had wanted only one thing from her, and he had got it with remarkable ease. She had no one to blame but herself. She had looked at him, wanted him, and foolishly imagined she could play him at his own game, and indulge in a sophisticated love affair with no strings attached. What had been an incredible experience for her, probably ranked as an easy lay for him…

The knowledge hurt, but also stiffened her shaky resolve. If an experienced woman of the world was what Nick wanted, then that was exactly what she would be. Calling on a lifetime of ingrained good manners, she said, ‘Good morning, Nick.’

Stopping at the side of the bed, Nick drew his brows together in a brief frown. He was used to a more enthusiastic welcome from the woman in his life. Why Liza was trying to appear cool when the blush in her cheeks declared otherwise, he had no idea. If he hadn’t shared the most incredible sex with her, he would have said she was embarrassed. But that wasn’t possible… He was not the first man she had slept with and he was not absolutely convinced she was innocent in the other matter either.

‘Good morning. Is that it?’ Black brows rose in sardonic amusement. ‘And here I was, hoping for a kiss at least,’ his dark eyes roamed with knowing sensuality over her luscious body, ‘after all we have shared,’ he concluded silkily and, putting the tray down on the table, he sat on the edge of the bed and reached for her hand.

Liza snatched her hand away, and fixed all her attention on the tray, unwilling to acknowledge the blatant sensuality in his look. There was a silver coffee-pot, a jug of cream, a bowl of sugar and two cups and saucers and a plate of pastries. ‘You’re joining me for breakfast; how nice,’ she said politely, and unwillingly her gaze was drawn back to meet Nick’s.

‘That was the idea. I did not think you would object.’ He noted her small hands clench in the coverlet and realised she was nervous. ‘I thought a woman of your incredible sexual aptitude would naturally share all my appetites,’ Nick teased, a slow, intimate smile curving his firm lips.

‘No—yes…of course not,’ Liza said in confusion, not sure if she should be flattered or furious he had found her satisfactory! Not sure he should even be here in her room, she thought, panic rising in her breast. ‘What about Manuel…? Your mother…?’ Liza heard her voice rising but was unable to control it as the full import of what she had allowed to happen hit her, and she turned red with embarrassment.

‘Take it easy, Liza.’ Nick chuckled. ‘Manuel and Marta always have Sunday morning free to attend church. As for mother, she is at church in Granada, and won’t be back for a while yet. She need never know that you are sharing a coffee with me.’ And with a wicked grin he added, ‘Stark naked beneath that sheet.’

The reminder of her nakedness made Liza blush even more, but his smile surprised her. Nick could amuse her and make her feel wanton at one and the same time. It was a lethal combination that made her even more wary. ‘Oh, just shut up and pour the coffee,’ she snapped.

‘I do adore a woman who can take charge occasionally,’ Nick drawled with a sardonic arch of one ebony brow. ‘Especially in the bedroom.’

‘Just pour the damn coffee,’ she reiterated, her temper rising. ‘I can do without sexual innuendoes first thing in the morning.’

‘Pity,’ Nick opined, but leant forward and filled the two cups from the jug and passed one to her. ‘I guess you’re not a morning person.’

Liza took hers and swallowed it down with unseemly haste, clattering the cup down on the tray with a less than steady hand. ‘Well, you’re wrong. I am once I have my caffeine fix.’ She strove for normality, but it was difficult with Nick sitting so close. She picked up a pastry and took a bite, but she had never felt less like eating, and it was such a struggle to get the food down she didn’t risk another bite, and dropped it back on the plate.

Nick chuckled, a deep, throaty sound, and reached out a long, elegant hand to sweep the tangled mass of her hair from her face. Then settled his arm around her shoulders, trapping her in the arc of his muscular chest. ‘Prove it, Liza.’

His stunningly handsome face was much too close; she could see the curling length of his lashes sweep his high cheekbones, and lift to reveal eyes glinting with amusement, the firm mouth also quirking at the corners with humour.

‘Prove what?’ She stared up at him with a mixture of fear and anticipation.

‘This.’ And he covered her mouth with his own.

Her startled cry was silenced in her throat; she struggled wildly, lashing out at his great torso with curled fists. She was no man’s push-over…whatever Nick Menendez thought… With a husky laugh he tipped her back against the pillows, and captured both of her flaying hands in one of his and pinned them above her head, his long body pressing her to the bed, and then he was kissing her again with a hard, deep hunger that set her on fire.

Suddenly the reason for her resistance was lost in the chaos he made of her mind. She tried to pull her hands free to hold him and with another husky chuckle Nick lifted his head and stared down into her flushed face.

‘No, my lovely, I am not setting you free. I missed you in my bed last night.’ Instantly she was flooded with an emotion so powerful she nearly told him, she didn’t want to be free of him ever… Surely he could see that. He might be an overbearing, arrogant chauvinist, but she knew deep within her soul that he was everything she could ever want or need in a man.

She wanted back the friend she had missed, the lover she had only just discovered, and the intellectual and emotional strength that he had given so generously to a young girl before the episode that had made him her enemy.

‘Your mother…’ She made a weak attempt to object but her heart wasn’t in it. It was in her mouth as he kissed her again. She couldn’t get enough of his mouth, her tongue seeking his in a dance of desire that met and matched him with ever deeper abandon. She slid her hands over his shoulders removing his robe in the process.

His mighty chest heaved and finally Nick lifted his head, his breathing harsh and his eyes staring into hers with burning satisfaction. ‘Has no one ever told you it is not a good idea to remind a man of his mother at a time like this?’ he husked, the tension holding Nick’s huge, powerful body taut over hers relaxing slightly as he shrugged off the robe completely. His heavy thigh slid over her slender hips and his hand splayed under her bottom, and pulled her into fierce connection with the rigid strength of his erection, sending quivering arrows of exquisite delight up from the apex of her thighs to spread through every nerve in her body.

Lifting his eyes to hers, a gleam of devilment lurking in their depths, he said throatily, ‘But maybe you’re right. You just reminded me of the first pleasure in a male’s life—the joy of suckling.’

Leaning back, he looked his fill of the perfect mounds of her breasts, pale as magnolia with erect, rosy peaks. His hands cupped and shaped them, his thumbs teasing the straining nubs until Liza moaned her pleasure, and only then did he bury his hot mouth against her aching breasts. He laved his tongue over a rigid tip and then drew the tight bud into his mouth and suckled gently.

Helplessly Liza ran her fingers through the thick black hair of his head and urged him to deliver the same ecstasy to its aching counterpart and he obliged.

‘You like that,’ Nick teased and then replaced his mouth with his hands, rolling the distended, dusky nipples between his thumb and forefinger, while he trailed a burning line of kisses down over her flat stomach.

He nudged her long legs apart and, swamped in sensation after sensation, Liza helped him, and when his mouth delivered the most intimate kiss of all she welcomed it. Her slender hands grasped his wide shoulders and tremor after tremor shook her whole body, her nails dug into his flesh as the pressure heightened and heightened, until she thought she would die, and then suddenly it happened.

Nick reared up and, lifting her, plunged into the shuddering heat of her in one driving movement. ‘Dios! You feel fantastic, unbelievable.’

‘So do you!’ Liza cried out as she took all of him, and as he began to move she convulsed and convulsed again in a shattering climax. Her blue eyes flew wide and collided with molten black and his dark head bent and took her mouth in a deep, almost yearning kiss.

Incredibly the pleasure was rising again as Nick moved in a sensual rhythm, a driving urgency that Liza met and matched in a primitive, wild abandon that had her whimpering and crying out with pleasure. Then she felt Nick’s ferocious tension, and one last desperate plunge that seemed to rock her very womb. She climaxed again as his great body shuddered over her. He groaned out something in Spanish but she was too far gone to hear, as his life force poured into her.

He had given her more pleasure than she had ever imagined existed, and yet when it was finally over, and their sweat-slicked bodies lay entwined in exhausted abandon, she felt the chill tendrils of fear snake through her tired mind.

Nick had only to appear for her to collapse into his arms. How on earth was she going to hide her helpless reaction to him? Nick was conceited and arrogant enough already about women if the gossip columns were to be believed. He did not need her adding to his tally.