She had arrived on the island yesterday with her boss. They were staying at a five-star hotel on the Costa Teguise to attend the two-week conference. But, after vanishing last night before dinner, Henry Brown had appeared this morning and informed her that, after reading the literature, the conference was of no importance to the firm.
Instead he had asked her to do him a favour and deliver a package to an opticians in Arrecife, the island’s capital, then take the rest of the time off. He told her she could stay in the hotel, as it was paid for, or go wherever she liked. Just to make sure she was around for the gala dinner on the final evening, and to take the flight back with him the day after.
He was going sailing, but would be back the morning of the gala. Plus, if his wife happened to call and catch Liza, Liza was to tell her he had been called away suddenly.
Liza had argued she was not prepared to lie to his wife, until he pointed out she was his PA now after four years of being the secretary to Mr Stubbs, who had recently retired. It was the first time she had travelled with him, and if she valued her job she had better get used to obeying his orders. Liza had a sneaky suspicion he had arranged the whole trip so he could slope off with his latest mistress.
Something green! Nick almost snorted. The only thing green Henry Brown was interested in was a green-back dollar… Liza could not be that naive…
‘Lucky for you,’ he prompted, his attitude towards her hardening. So she was not a complete liar, but she was extremely clever—enough of the truth mixed with fiction, Nick thought cynically, his dark eyes roaming once more over her face and body. He wondered if Liza was sleeping with her boss. She had been heading that way at sixteen, and he could not see any red-blooded male turning her down. Immediately he pushed the vaguely distasteful thought aside.
‘Yes,’ Liza agreed coolly. Henry Brown was supposedly a happily married man, but he had hit on her the first week she started work for the company, but, firmly rebuffed, he had accepted with good grace and over the years they had developed a formal working relationship.
Henry Brown was a charming rogue who was probably an asset in the world of venture capitalism, but not really husband material. Still, his private life was not her problem…she was not her boss’s moral guardian, she told herself firmly.
The waiter arrived with the coffee and Liza picked up the cup and took a sip of the aromatic brew. She could feel Nick’s dark gaze on her as the silence lengthened between them. But she saw no reason why she should carry the conversation. She had not instigated this meeting with him.
Twenty minutes ago, after delivering the package, she had sat down at this table, drunk a cup of coffee, and told herself she was going to enjoy the unexpected break. It was magic to be able to sit outside in the middle of January with the temperature a balmy seventy-eight degrees after the winter gloom she had left in England. Now she was not so sure… Suddenly it felt a whole lot warmer, and she set the coffee-cup down with a less than steady hand. She could not believe Nick was actually sitting beside her, and, worse, affecting her usual icy composure like no other man before.
‘I have heard of Stubbs; a very profitable firm, I believe,’ Nick finally remarked.
Startled, Liza took a moment to remember what they had been talking about.
‘Your mother must be very proud of your success; though I hate to admit it, I have only seen her a couple of times in the last few years, usually when she is visiting my mother. It is a shame you never come with her any more,’ Nick offered lightly. He had caught the flash of panic in her eyes, and wondered why. His comment had been harmless enough. Liza was an elegant, sophisticated woman now, but that flash of fear simply confirmed his mounting suspicion she was hiding something.
‘Some time, maybe,’ Liza replied shortly. She needed no reminding of her holidays at his home, and asked, ‘And what are you doing here? I thought you still lived in Spain.’
‘I just flew in this morning. I have a villa here, though I have a house in Malaga, and of course the family home, but my business takes me all over the world.’
‘How nice,’ Liza murmured. ‘What is it you actually do?’ she queried sarcastically. Apart from flitting around the world in a private jet, usually with a glamorous woman on your arm, she almost added, but resisted the temptation.
If ever a child was born with a silver spoon in his mouth it was Niculoso Menendez. The only son of one of the wealthiest families on the continent, he lived a charmed life, indulging his every whim, whether it was skydiving, bunjee jumping or snowboarding in the Alps. He was an exponent of extreme sports, and she had thought his adventures so brave and romantic as a child. But raking over the past was churning up memories she preferred to forget, and, pinning a smile on her face she forced herself to look up into his eyes.
For a second she thought she saw a flash of anger in their depths, but she was quickly reassured when his firmly chiselled lips parted over gleaming white teeth in a reciprocal smile that was meant to dazzle…and did…
‘Right at this moment I am talking to a beautiful woman,’ he said smoothly, ‘when I should be checking a property development on the other side of the island.’
‘So you’re a property developer. That must be interesting,’ she prompted, jumping at the chance to change the subject. Niculoso complimenting her, flirting with her, made her uncomfortable. ‘I seem to remember you studied art, wasn’t it? But your father was in finance, I believe,’ she opined with the lift of one delicately shaped eyebrow. And Nick had stood to inherit the lot, and marry the family-approved distant relative, Sophia, Liza recalled cynically.
‘You’re right and he was, but with my father’s backing we diversified into other areas, though property development is one of my own pet projects.’
Surprisingly Liza believed him. There was no mistaking the passion in his tone, the gleam of determination in his incredible eyes as he expanded on the subject.
‘For instance, here on Lanzarote the landscape fascinates me. It is quite challenging to build something that is pleasing to the eye, and yet does not harm the unique environment. Don’t get me wrong. I am not one of those dyed-in-the-wool environmentalists. I do enjoy the better things of life.’
Liza just bet he did! Her blue eyes lingered on his harshly handsome face, the deliciously mobile mouth, a wry smile tugging her lips. He wasn’t called the Spanish Stud for nothing…
‘But here no building must be more than four storeys, mainly from the lobbying of the late, great Cesar Manrique, a famous local sculptor. You have probably seen some of his work around the island.’
‘I’ve read about him, but I only arrived yesterday afternoon and I haven’t had a chance to look around yet,’ Liza said, her smile broadening as for a moment she caught a glimpse of the eighteen-year-old he had once been. A young man full of high ideals and not above expounding them to a young child, before maturity and money had made him the man he was today.
‘In that case, Liza, you must allow me to be your guide for the day,’ Nick declared, flashing her another dazzling smile. Her heart lurched and for a moment she simply stared at him. ‘That is, if you are alone, of course,’ he prompted softly.
His deep, velvet voice trickled over her nerve-endings like dark gold honey, soothing and seducing. ‘Yes. Yes, I am,’ she stammered.
He really was a hunk of a man and the years since they had last met had been kind to him. If anything he was more attractive than she remembered, age giving character to his stunningly handsome face, with perfectly carved features, high cheekbones and a sensually curved mouth. As for his eyes, deep brown and as dark as sin with thick black curling lashes. The kind of eyes that would melt any female’s heart and the slightly long, silky black hair would tempt any female’s fingers. Liza was no exception; she wasn’t even aware she was staring and she never saw the brief glitter of triumph in his gorgeous eyes.
Nick Menendez’s physical presence was almost hypnotic; he exuded a lethal charm, an aura of potent masculine