Mediterranean Tycoons: Dark & Demanding: At The Spaniard's Pleasure / A Most Passionate Revenge / The Italian Billionaire's Ruthless Revenge. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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mumbled, still reeling from the shock of his sudden appearance. It was Nick who had taught her to ride, and saved her from many a fall from trees, cliffs, and on one memorable occasion when she had fallen from her horse. But at fourteen her feelings for him had changed when she had developed an enormous crush on him, and done everything in her power to try and attract his attention to her blossoming femininity.
‘You don’t sound too pleased to see me.’ Nick lifted a hand and signalled to the waiter and ordered a coffee. ‘Would you like a refill?’
‘No… Yes…’ she stammered like an idiot, but she was stunned. He had appeared from nowhere like a genie out of a bottle, filling her mind with kaleidoscopic memories.
Their past relationship had ended in disaster when she was sixteen. Overflowing with unrequited love, she had been devastated when she was introduced to Nick’s fiancée, a stunningly attractive woman called Sophia, a distant relative of the family.
Suddenly Liza had seen her mother and herself for what they were. The poor friends who were given a holiday out of charity. That summer she had rebelled and gone out with one of the stable boys. It was just her bad luck the one time they were fooling around in an empty stall and she had let him kiss her, Nick had seen them. Nick with a face like thunder…
An involuntary shiver feathered down her spine, and her heartbeat quickened perceptibly. She did not want to think about what had happened next. But the scales had certainly fallen from her eyes where Nick was concerned. Nick Menendez was an arrogant, overbearing, stuck-up, chauvinist pig. Liza had kept out of his way for the rest of her stay, and if he had happened to see her he frowned at her with contempt obvious in his hard eyes. Liza had been relieved when they finally left and she’d never gone back.
Shaking her head in an attempt to dispel the memories of the past, she glanced up at him. He had moved slightly and the sun glinted off his striking features, and her heart stopped in her throat.
One dark brow arched enquiringly. ‘So may I sit down?’ His voice was a deep, slightly accented drawl that held a hint of mockery.
‘Please do,’ she finally managed to respond civilly. Though she was still shocked at the amazing coincidence of bumping into Niculoso in Lanzarote. Since the death of his father she guessed he had inherited the family company. She had seen his name in the gossip columns occasionally, when he’d attended a charity do, a première or the races, and grimaced at the reference to the Spanish Stud, supposedly a reference to the famous Menendez stud farm, but the double entendre was obvious. Still, Liza tried to avoid reading such rubbish.
‘The last time we met must have been my father’s funeral,’ Nick prompted, pulling out a chair.
‘Oh, yes,’ Liza murmured politely. That was another day she would rather forget. She had just turned nineteen and was at university in London, and living in the halls of residence. Her mum had insisted Liza travel to Spain with her for the funeral. Nick had still been engaged to the glorious Sophia and Liza had found him just as disturbing then, and when he had deigned to notice her his expression was still one of scowling contempt.
Liza hadn’t seen him since. She wished he would sit down instead of holding the chair and towering over her like some great, dark bird of prey. He was smiling down at her like a long-lost friend, and somehow it didn’t ring true. A vulture about to pick her bones was more likely, she thought drily.
‘Well, Niculoso, fancy meeting you here,’ she said coolly, her mind spinning. ‘I thought you lived in Antequera.’
‘My mother still does. But I am a big boy now, Liza. I left home years ago,’ he drawled mockingly, and finally sat down beside her. He was big and he was more striking than ever, she realised, her skin breaking out in goose-pimples as his arm accidentally brushed hers.
‘As, I believe, did you after university,’ Nick continued, apparently casually. A large hand reached out and covered her much smaller one resting on the table, and to her amazement something akin to an electric shock sizzled up her arm. ‘My mother speaks about you often and it is really good to see you again,’ he said and squeezed her hand.
Good to see her! He had to be kidding… He could not stand the sight of her… Liza felt the colour rise in her cheeks. She had told herself she hated him for years and yet incredibly his touch sent a frisson of excitement flooding through her. Her stunned blue gaze clashed with deep dark brown—was it sincerity she saw in their depths? Never in a million years… She wasn’t falling for his Latin charm ever again. ‘Yes. Well…’ she murmured inconsequentially.
‘Forgive me for surprising you. I caught a glimpse of you and could not believe my eyes. You have developed into a stunning woman, Liza.’
Niculoso Menendez giving her a compliment! He had to be joking after the scathing things he had said about her in the past. ‘Thank you, I think,’ she said with a trace of sarcasm. She pulled her hand free from beneath his and lowered her eyes from his too astute gaze.
Liza remembered all too well every second of their encounter in the stable years ago.
After dispensing with the stable boy, Nick had hauled her hard against him and kissed her savagely, and to her undying shame she had responded in a way she had never imagined in her wildest dreams, clinging to him like a limpet. Then he had shoved her back into the stall, and insolently touched her tight breasts, and completely humiliated her. His words were engraved on her brain.
‘My God! A stable boy! How wrong I was about you. For two years I have watched you flirt and flaunt yourself around me. I thought it was innocent, a young girl learning the power of her emerging sexuality. But you obviously know it all, have done it all. You’re nothing but a cheap slut.’
The memory still had the power to hurt, but Liza drew some consolation from the fact that, young as she was, at least she’d had the sense to slap his arrogant face.
Nick leant back in his seat and eyed the woman before him. She had been a delightful, impulsive child, a thorn in his flesh as a very independent, precocious teenager, and a bitter disappointment to him when he’d found her cavorting with the stable boy. But she had developed into an exquisitely beautiful woman, and he didn’t like the way she still affected him after years of blanking her from his mind. His gut reaction last night when he’d realised she was involved had been to protect her any way he could, and the strength of his own feeling had surprised him.
But he was no fool; she had inherited her mother’s features and pale, almost translucent skin, and at the moment the red tinge to her cheeks and the evasive look in her brilliant blue eyes told him she was as guilty as hell about something. Whether it was because she was involved in the theft of the diamonds or not he did not know, but he was determined to find out for Carl’s sake.
‘I can see life has been good to you, Liza,’ Nick opined, his dark eyes sweeping over her face and lower to the soft curve of her breasts with blatant male appreciation. ‘It is great to see you happy and on holiday.’
‘Yes, well, the sunshine is a treat in the winter,’ Liza offered lightly. She was older and wiser now, and not prepared to accept his friendly overtures so easily.
Nick’s gaze narrowed intently on her lovely face, and he saw the swift tightening of her luscious lips; she was being evasive—hardly the reaction of an innocent, he was forced to conclude. ‘You are on holiday?’ he queried, pressing on in an attempt to discover exactly what Liza knew. ‘Or is it business? It has been so long since we last saw each other, I have no idea what you are up to now.’ For a fleeting moment he was tempted to ask, A bit of diamond-smuggling, perhaps, as my agency’s report implies? His lips twitched in the briefest smile at the thought.
The shock of meeting Niculoso Menendez was wearing off a little and, seeing his smile, Liza thought there was no harm in discussing her work. ‘I’m a PA for a director of a finance firm in London.’ It was a safe topic, and she told him the name of the firm. ‘As for this,’ she gestured with one hand around the bay, ‘it started out as a business trip to attend an environmental conference at Costa Teguise in the hope of investing in something green, I suppose, but surprisingly it