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

A few telephone calls later and Nick left his study, his handsome face hard and slightly grey beneath his tan. He had arranged for round-the-clock security on the estate, by his own men and the local police. But he was still not content. It was a big party, and with over a hundred guests anybody could have slipped onto the property in the bustle of arrivals. He wanted Liza out of here.

Liza placed her empty glass on a window ledge, and looked around the crowd of people. There was still no sign of Nick. Fortunately at that moment Thomas’s son, Marco, appeared at her side.

‘The lovely Liza, and alone. Can I have this dance?’ he asked with a grin.

She was relieved to see a friendly face, having been introduced to him at lunch. Marco was a young man in his twenties, very attractive and very aware of it; she had an inkling he was a bit of a flirt, but it was just what she needed.

‘Yes, thank you, Marco.’ And when he put his hand around her waist and led her through the crowd to the dance floor, she felt none of the tension Nick’s touch aroused in her.

‘You don’t remember me, do you?’

‘Should I?’ Liza grinned; he was a handsome young man.

‘I stayed here once when you were here. I was twelve and you were sixteen and I had the most enormous crush on you, but you only had eyes for one of the grooms.’

‘Oh, no.’ And she laughed it off with, ‘Was I that obvious?’

‘Only to me, probably.’ Marco grinned and spun her around.

Marco was a great dancer, and Liza was no slouch, and when the music ended she was naturally included in the group of his friends.

It was as she finished dancing with one of them over an hour later that she bumped into a hard male body. A strong arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back a few steps.

‘Enjoying yourself, Liza?’ Nick’s mocking drawl feathered across her cheek. ‘Giving the young men a treat, I see.’

Spinning around out of his arms, she took a step back, and looked up and froze at the derision in his angry black eyes. But, pride coming to the fore, she flashed him a brilliant smile that did not reach her eyes. ‘What did you expect, Nick? That I would stand at the side like a wallflower until you deigned to return?’ she drawled sarcastically. ‘Well, sorry, buster, but this is a party, and I intend to enjoy myself.’ Once she would have been quelled by his attitude. Now she was just furious.

‘Oh, I can see that.’ His firm lips twisted in a sneer. ‘The last boy you danced with had you hauled so close he was almost having sex with you. Not that I am surprised; you were sharing a suite with Henry Brown when I found you,’ he drawled derisively.

The music had stopped and the last sentence fell like a stone in the muted conversations around them.

Liza spared him a bitter smile, and, jerking around, she pushed her way blindly through the crowd of people, tears prickling at the backs of her eyes. As humiliating moments went, that was a corker, and she had to get out of here. Now…

‘Wait, Liza.’ A large male hand grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. ‘I’m sorry, I…’ But she never heard him, as with a violent shrug she dislodged Nick’s grip.

She was suddenly, furiously, magnificently angry at his undisguised contempt and his total humiliation of her. Why should she run away? He was the villain here. ‘What for—so you can slag me off some more?’ she prompted bitterly. ‘I don’t think so. You are a two-faced pig, you take what you want when you want it, and to hell with everyone else.’ And she glanced up, her lovely face tense with strain and anger. Violent black eyes clashed with hers, and she shivered, her mouth running dry. She had gone too far…

A dark tide of red washed up over his high cheekbones. ‘Are you through?’ Nick demanded between gritted teeth. ‘Trying to embarrass me in front of my whole family?’

Gathering what little will-power she had left, she plastered a smile on her face, and played the part of vamp he had obviously cast her in. She jutted her hip and put her hand on it, and, deliberately fluttering her long lashes up at him, she declared, ‘What is sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander…big boy,’ and then lifted her other hand and traced a slow path up his arm to rest on a hard bicep. ‘But don’t worry, I am out of here in the morning.’

Her mocking response set Nick back on his heels, and he had to fight down a twitch of reluctant amusement at her brave performance. He had never known such an infuriating bloody woman. Yet through the red haze of rage that had consumed him from the moment he saw her dancing with that handsome young man he suddenly realised she had given him the perfect solution to his problem…

‘Depend on it.’ He wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her hard against him, and, dropping his head so only she could hear—they had been enough of a floorshow for one evening—he added, ‘I’ll see you off the premises myself.’

He had a ski-chalet in the mountains above Granada. It was the perfect place to keep her safe. ‘I will even help you pack. But first you are going to dance with me, smile at me and try to behave like a lady for the rest of the evening. Understood?’

Her chin tilted fractionally. ‘Perfectly.’ And she bit her bottom lip hard to stop the sudden tremble. He could not have made it plainer what he thought of her. So what if it had been her suggestion to leave? In her heart of hearts she had not expected Nick to be quite so eager to see her go. He might have been overcome with lust last night and this morning but obviously he had very quickly had enough of her.

She held herself stiffly in his hold as they reached the dance floor. The music had changed to something slow, but she let her hands rest defensively on his strong arms as he urged her closer.

His dark head bent towards her and she felt his warm breath against her temple. ‘No one will believe we are old friends if you persist in dancing like a puppet with a scowl on your face that would make a child cry at ten paces,’ he mouthed against her skin and as he slipped lower his breath shivered over one earlobe.

Liza tried to resist the compelling power of his huge body, she stifled a sound in her throat, but it was no contest. In seconds she gave in and melted into the hard warmth of his embrace. They fitted together so well; one powerful thigh glided between her legs as he turned her slowly around the floor, and she was made shockingly aware of the strength of his arousal. She lifted startled eyes to his.

Nick saw the confusion in the darkening depths and for a moment she looked so young and acutely vulnerable. ‘I think we have danced enough.’ He loosened his hold on her slightly. ‘It is time we did our duty and circulated a little.’

Nick had decided he would go along with the scenario she had painted. It fitted in with his plans ideally. As for the ‘no sex in his mother’s house’, it would mean him keeping guard by the connecting door all night, rather than sharing her bed. But he could afford to wait with the prospect of sharing the ski-lodge with her tomorrow to look forward to.

Liza said nothing as Nick clasped her elbow and led her through the crowd, pausing here and there to speak to acquaintances, and with meticulous politeness introducing her as a friend of the family. She should have been pleased but instead she felt a deepening sense of dismay. That was compounded when they stopped to talk to Anna Menendez.

‘Lovely party,’ Liza said politely.

‘I am so glad you are enjoying yourself, Liza, but don’t let this son of mine monopolise you; there are some very handsome bachelors here tonight, and we can catch up on all the gossip tomorrow.’

‘Sorry to disappoint, Mamma.’ Nick wasn’t sorry at all; he needed his mother encouraging Liza to flirt like a hole in the head, he thought furiously, but none of his anger showed in the dark eyes that met his mother’s. ‘But Liza has to leave tomorrow; she has to attend a conference she can’t get out of. Isn’t that right, Liza?’ Nick demanded smoothly.

Liza took a deep breath, then released it slowly. She glanced at Nick; his dark eyes stared blandly back at her, with no sign of the incredible passion they had shared in the cold depths. He could not get rid of her fast enough. Forcing a smile to her face, Liza looked at Anna. ‘Yes. Nick is right; I’m sorry, Anna, but I do have to go.’

Just for once she would have liked to ruffle Nick’s colossal control and she added, ‘I promised Henry…’ and stopped, glancing back at Nick ‘…I mean, my boss…’ her smile was a masterpiece of confident sensuality ‘…that I would return in time to go home with him.’ She saw his dark eyes narrow, and felt his contempt right down to her bones, and she didn’t care.

‘Who is going where?’ a husky voice interrupted.

‘Sophia, darling.’ Nick’s delighted greeting knocked Liza’s veneer of confidence for six, and she was forced to watch as Sophia, his supposedly ex-fiancée, slipped her arm through his and lifted her face for his kiss. Nick enthusiastically obliged.

‘You remember Sophia, Liza.’ His dark eyes lifted and he pinned Liza with a hard, challenging look.

Jealousy fierce and primitive lanced through her, but she managed to force a smile for the other woman. ‘But of course. Hello, Sophia.’

‘Hi; I never thought I would see you here again.’ Sophia gave her a brief dismissive glance and then was whispering something coyly in Nick’s ear.

Nick threw his arrogant head back and laughed out loud, and Liza felt as if she had been knifed in the gut. Obviously Nick was still very close to his ex-fiancée, and Liza felt about two inches tall.

‘Excuse me,’ she said to Anna, and turned on her heel. In minutes she was swallowed up in the crowd, and when she bumped into Marco she welcomed his easy-going attitude.

Held in Marco’s arms as the band played a slow tune, she saw Nick dancing with Sophia. No, not dancing—glued together, they simply swayed to the music. Marco, catching the direction of her gaze, looked down at her. ‘I saw you dancing with Nick before and I thought you and he might be an item.’

‘Good heavens, no.’ Liza pinned a bright smile on her face. ‘We are old friends, nothing more.’

‘Ah, I should have guessed when Sophia arrived and Nick grabbed you, the most beautiful girl in the room, he was probably trying to make her jealous.’

Liza looked up into the guileless young face of Marco. ‘Why would Nick want to do that?’ she asked, her stomach churning with nervous dread. ‘I thought they broke up years ago.’

‘I’ll let you into a secret Anna told my mother, and she told me. Nick is not quite the womaniser he seems. Apparently Nick met the love of his life years ago, and he thought she was his, but they parted and he has carried a torch for the girl ever since. Well, it has to be Sophia; it is common knowledge she left him when she finished university and got a job as a translator at the EU in Brussels. I think she liked the idea of a rich fiancé while she was a poor student in Madrid.’

‘You think so?’ Liza managed to murmur.

‘Yes, she is a real career lady; no one has seen her at any family get-together since Nick’s father died a few years ago. But it was common knowledge she had accepted the invitation to this party.’

As the music stopped Marco, with a hand at her elbow, led her to the side, and, turning, he chuckled, looking over her shoulder.

‘I don’t think they have noticed the music has stopped and Sophia is clinging to him like Velcro now, so it looks like making her jealous has finally worked for old Nick. The next big party here could be the wedding. The pair of them are both getting on a bit.’

Slowly Liza turned back and looked across the dance floor, and sure enough Nick was standing with his arms around Sophia, and she was smiling up into his face as if he was the only man in the world.

‘Do you mind, Marco?’ Liza excused herself to go to the rest room, fighting back the tears that threatened to fall. Hurt and anger raged in equal parts in her bruised and battered heart.

In a flash of blinding clarity she saw it all now. Her suspicions had been well-founded, but it had nothing to do with her wild idea of industrial espionage, and everything to do with the fact that Nick Menendez was an opportunist. He had bumped into Liza, and quite fancied her, and when his mother had called and reminded him to get back for the party he must have known he was going to see Sophia again, and saw an ideal way to make the love of his life jealous, and if he got a bit of sex on the side all the better. It was that basic.

Taking care to keep well away from Nick and Sophia, Liza finally found Anna and Thomas and his wife, and said her goodnights. Anna took her in her arms and kissed her. ‘I may not see you in the morning, Liza; my old bones won’t get out of bed so quickly any more. But please do try and come with your mother in March.’

The genuine affection in Anna’s smile made Liza want to cry all the more. But she managed to control the tears until she made her way back through the brightly lit hacienda. She gave Manuel a weak smile as she passed the entrance to the kitchen, and a few moments later she carefully locked her bedroom door behind her.

Kicking off her shoes, she threw herself down on the bed and only then did she allow the tears to fall. How could she have been so gullible as to believe Nick had wanted her so badly he had to whisk her away with him? He had wanted her for one reason only, the most basic of human emotions—to make Sophia jealous.

Liza turned over and buried her head in the pillow, great sobs racking her slender body. She had been right to be suspicious all along. He still saw her as a tramp, because he thought nothing of using her for sex, and that was the cruellest cut of all. Choking on a sob, she felt her heart tear with grief, and she gave in to a paroxysm of weeping. Until finally she lay pale and still, her throat hoarse, and stared with sightless eyes at the ceiling, all cried out.

A long time later she sat up, and pressed her knuckles against her red-rimmed, swollen eyes. She and Nick had only ever been a childish dream; she should have left it that way. Now he was her worst nightmare, and, slipping off the bed, she headed straight for the shower.

What kind of idiot was she? she asked herself bitterly as she stood beneath the pounding spray. She had compromised her ideals in the first place by deciding to enjoy a holiday romance. Some joke! A one-night stand was all that had been on offer. She should have known when he got her into bed as soon as the damn plane took off!

Nick Menendez was an arrogant, unfeeling devil. He had told her years ago he liked extreme sports for the instant thrill, and kept looking for harder and harder challenges because he was easily bored. She had been a prize idiot for falling for his charismatic charm, and with a new determination in her eyes she scrubbed at her skin, determined to wash any memory of the man from her body and her thoughts.

CHAPTER EIGHT

LIZA finally gave up trying to sleep when she heard the muffled chimes of the clock in the hall strike six. At eight she was ready to leave, with her bag packed, her long hair divided into two neat braids and wearing denim jeans with a red shirt and denim jacket—she was dressed for travelling.

With one last look around the blue interior, she unlocked the bedroom door and, suitcase in hand, she left. Unable to resist, she glanced at the door to Nick’s bedroom as she walked along the hall. It was wide open, and the bed was undisturbed. She closed her eyes briefly against the pain squeezing her heart, and quickly looked away.

Using her to make Sophia jealous had obviously worked for Nick, Liza thought bitterly. The hurt and humiliation were crushing, and she couldn’t get out of the place fast enough. She was going to get the first plane back to Lanzarote; at least there she would be alone for a while, and free to lick her wounds in the privacy of her hotel suite. She wished like hell she had never left it and she didn’t care if she had to sit all day at the airport; anything was better than staying here. She was angry at her own feeble-mindedness in wanting Nick. He had used her, and she despised the man…

With that thought in mind she marched into the kitchen and dumped her suitcase on the floor. Straightening up, she focused on Manuel busily preparing a coffee tray.

Manuel turned around. ‘Señorita Liza, I was just about to bring you coffee.’

‘Thank you, Manuel, but I am leaving as soon as possible. Would you please call me a taxi to take me to Malaga Airport?’ She walked past the kitchen table to where Manuel stood beside the preparation bench.

‘But I will have a coffee while I wait.’ Manuel filled a cup and handed it to her, and then stood hovering, as if he did not know what to do next. Spooning a big dollop of sugar in her cup—she needed the energy—Liza reminded him, ‘The taxi, please, Manuel; I am in a hurry.’

‘Yes, yes, of course.’ He moved to where the telephone was suspended on the wall. ‘For Malaga, you say.’ He looked back at her with a frown. ‘You are sure.’

‘Yes, Manuel.’

‘No, Manuel,’ a deep voice commanded, ‘a taxi will not be necessary. I will drive Liza into Malaga.’

Liza stiffened, anger and resentment simmering inside her along with a hollow feeling in her stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. So much for Nick’s statement she was a welcome guest, she thought bitterly. He couldn’t wait to see her leave, probably frightened in case she told Sophia what a love-rat he was.

With slow deliberation Liza sipped her cup of coffee to the dregs. Now all she had to do was face the dregs of her relationship with Nick. Placing the cup carefully down on the bench, she composed her features into a bland, socially acceptable mask.

Taking a deep, calming breath, she turned around. ‘Good morning, Nick; that is very kind of you,’ she said with determined brightness. ‘But I would prefer a taxi.’

He was standing in the middle of the room, his magnificent body clad in black jeans and a white cashmere sweater, his legs slightly splayed and his thumbs tucked into the pockets of his trousers. He was all bristling male attitude, and the hard dark eyes that stared back at her held no hint of the intimacy they had shared, only a flash of irritation that she had declined his offer.

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

Not only was she a slut but she was also ridiculous in his estimation. ‘Thank you for that.’ Her attempt at social politeness sank as the crushing weight of his betrayal sparked her anger. ‘But I was trying to be reasonable. I would not dream of putting you out in any way,’ she drawled sarcastically. She jerked her chin up, refusing to let him see how he had hurt her, and met his aloof gaze with stony eyes, at the same time thinking, what she would really like to do was knock the arrogant, deceitful devil out flat! But instead she added coolly, ‘I’m sure you have much more important things to do with your time.’ Sophia for one, she thought bitterly.

‘But I insist, Liza. I brought you here; it is only good manners I assist you to depart, and I know what a stickler you are for good manners.’

A cold hand closed around her heart as she searched his handsome face. She saw his strong jawline harden, and the arrogant cynicism in his expression that said clearer than words that it was over. Pride alone made her step forward.

‘In that case you won’t mind getting my luggage,’ she said with saccharine-sweetness and indicated her suitcase with a wave of her hand. ‘I am in a hurry.’

‘Not so great a hurry we can’t have breakfast first, surely,’ Nick prompted silkily. ‘What time is your flight?’

She noticed there was no offer of the private jet. Why was she not surprised? He probably knew damn fine she had not booked a flight, he was simply being his usual sarcastic, superior self. ‘I have no idea,’ she said airily. ‘I intend to wait on standby; the sooner I get back to Lanzarote the better.’

‘Well, if you’re sure I can’t tempt you,’ he drawled, the mockery in his eyes clear for Liza to see, ‘to eat…’ and scarlet colour stained her cheeks and she just knew the pig was laughing at her.

Five minutes later, seated in the passenger seat of a Land-Rover, Liza glanced at Nick as he started the motor. He was whistling! Whistling a catchy tune as if he had not a care in the world. But then, why would he? He was probably recalling his night in Sophia’s bed.

The anger and resentment that had sustained her from the moment he walked into the kitchen this morning gave way to a gut-wrenching pain as an image of Nick naked with Sophia filled her mind, touching the other woman, kissing as he had kissed her… Turning her head, she looked out of the window at the countryside flying by without even seeing it.

What kind of idiot had she been to imagine that Nick would have the slightest interest in her, other than a quick roll in the hay? Maybe not so quick! But not much more than a one-night stand nevertheless.

Nick had hurt her at sixteen, his scathing comments had cut deep into her psyche, and she had deliberately denied her own sexuality for years. She had finally woken up to the fact after her broken engagement. She had realised she had dated Bob because he was no sexual threat; it wasn’t surprising their one attempt at sex was a disaster, and she blamed herself for it. But the real blame lay with Nick, and, fool that she was, she had let him hurt her again almost a decade later. Was she never going to learn? He was Nick Menendez, a famously successful captain of industry, and an equally renowned womaniser.

In the sophisticated society he belonged to she had simply been a pleasant diversion for him, she realised bitterly. He had said he wanted her, but he did not trust or respect her, never had. Sex was all he wanted, to pass the time during a boring night flight, and until his long-time girlfriend turned up the next evening.

What on earth had she been thinking? Liza shook her head and slanted a glance at him with puzzled eyes, trying to fathom how one man could have so easily persuaded her to act so out of character. His handsome features were granite-hard and totally concentrated on the road ahead as he drove the Land-Rover way above the speed limit.

She had served her purpose, to make Sophia jealous and to provide a bit of casual sex on the side. She swallowed hard against the acid taste of shame that filled her mouth. Her bitter gaze slid down to his hand on the gear stick, lean and strong, and she experienced a sudden rush of déjàvu.

Forty-eight hours ago she had been in the exact same position, but now she knew exactly what his hand felt like on every pore of her skin. She shuddered inwardly, her eyes misting with tears, and hastily she turned in her seat and looked out of the window again. Liza was emotionally exhausted, bone-deep tired—she had hardly slept in two nights—but she knew she had to get a grip on herself before they reached Malaga.

No way was she letting him see how much he had hurt her again…

As the road wound up high into the sierras Nick cast a sidelong glance at the sleeping Liza; her head had fallen against his arm, and a golden rope of hair lay on his chest. Dios, she looked about fifteen. What the hell was he doing? And he quickly turned his attention back to the twisting road.

Last night kidnapping Liza had seemed like a great idea. He was definitely losing his marbles… But not enough to turn around and head back towards Malaga Airport…

He had already lied to his friend Carl, and for a man who took pride in his honour he had behaved outrageously. He was a brilliant entrepreneur because he never invested in anything without a thorough investigation of the company and weighing up all the costs. He was good at dangerous sports, but only because he had the sense to take every reasonable safety precaution. His relationships with women were successful because he was generous, laid down the rules at the beginning and never got emotionally involved. He never acted on impulse…

Nick shook his dark head in bemusement. He had broken every one of his own tenets of behaviour, and why? Because of Liza; the sight, the feel, the touch of her affected him like no other woman. She turned his brilliant, decisive mind into mush.