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.
‘Dios!’ He was halfway up a mountainside on his way to a secluded ski-chalet, with a sexy woman who might or might not be a criminal. Had he finally lost his mind? But a sidelong glance at the sleeping Liza and he had his answer. She was exquisite, and so innocent in sleep. His gaze moved over her beautiful face, her softly parted lips, and his chest heaved with a scarcely remembered emotion, a throwback to the past.
She looked just as she had at fifteen when they had taken the horses and gone on a picnic. Liza had been thrown from her horse, and he had jumped from his and cradled her head in his arms; her eyes were closed and for one terrible second he had thought she was dead. The same fear he had felt then Nick had felt again last night when Carl had told him two of the gang were still on the loose and could possibly target Liza.
It did not matter what she was or what she did, for some bizarre reason he was automatically programmed to protect her.
He manoeuvred the four-wheel-drive between a narrow cut in the cliff and brought it to a halt outside a log cabin. He leant back in the seat and glanced down as the golden head slipped forward, and Liza wriggled back against the constraints of the seat belt, and flung a hand across his lap.
Nick dragged in a sharp breath as his body tightened at her casual touch. She was going to wake up any second, and she was going to blow her top when she did. The thought was oddly exciting, but then everything about the mature Liza excited him, he wryly acknowledged. Even so, he was in no hurry to have the argument with her he knew must follow.
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