A Spanish Vengeance Part 6

Had that husky entreaty come from her or from him? Lisa didn't know or care as his dark head lowered, his long sensual mouth covering hers with a sweetness that made her dizzy, made her knees buckle beneath her with the wonder of it. Clinging to him, she ran her hands over the wide span of his shoulders as she pressed herself into the lithe length of him.

This was what she'd been wanting, aching for. The release from the tension of these last days came swiftly, with a coc.o.o.ning sense of safety, of coming home to where she belonged after long sterile years of exile.

And then he deepened the kiss, his body taut and demanding, drugging her with an erotic expertise that harmonised with the sultry warmth of the night. Beneath her questing hands she felt his body shake and, even as his lips still ravaged the willing moistness of her mouth, his long hands swept the narrow straps of her dress off her shoulders then slid with shaky, barely contained impatience, to cup her naked b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Desire, naked and unashamed, swept through her on a hot, wild tide. 'Kiss me!'

This time she knew the honeyed command had come from her, knew the intoxication of pure incandescent joy as his dark head bent to take one straining nipple between his lips and then the other. Her back arched in ecstasy, her head falling back on her neck, her fingers digging into his skull, through the thick dark softness of his hair as she held him to her.

With hot, muttered words in his own language, Diego found the delicate zipper at the back of her dress, heard the slither of silky chiffon as it pooled at her feet. With his hands on either side of her tiny waist he raised his head and held her minutely away from him, drinking in the loveliness of her.

Tiny white briefs hid her s.e.x. Her skin gleamed like mother-of-pearl in the moonlight. Her eyes, darkened by the desire that thrummed between them, glowed for him.

Only for him...

He had to believe that...

With a smothered groan he lifted her slender pale arms from around his neck, scooped her up, holding her tightly against his racing heartbeat and carried her to his bed, where she belonged.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

PALE, pure moonlight bathed Lisa's beautiful body in silvered washes as he lowered her on to his bed, the dark cover accentuating the ivory loveliness of her limbs and the silver gold of her hair, those long silky tendrils spread around her.

His heart racing, Diego straightened, his fingers moving to his shirt b.u.t.tons. His hands were shaking. His body was aching for her. Just her. Only ever her. His pale, glorious angel.

He'd waited so long. Too d.a.m.ned long!

A soft breeze from one of the many open windows set deep in the ancient stone walls feathered over his skin as he dropped his shirt to the floor, his eyes never leaving the deep pools of hers.

Moonlight made a mystery of her. He s.n.a.t.c.hed in a breath. His lungs tightened. He was about to solve that mystery.

She was his!

A tiny gasp alerted him to the fact that her eyes had broken his hypnotic hold on her and were drinking in his partial nakedness, sweeping achingly slowly across the breadth of his shoulders, down to the tightness of flat stomach muscles. A nerve jumped at the side of his hard jawline as she raised her pale slender arms to him, her lips parting on another intake of breath.

Without having to think about it, he took her outstretched hands in his and brushed his lips over the backs of her fingers, turning them over to place lingering kisses in her tender palms, just as he had always done when he'd greeted her way back in that time so long ago when love had been young and infinitely precious, the most precious thing in the world for him.

'Diego-'

Just his name, emerging from her lips on a rawly breathy sigh that could have been the desperate plea he'd been waiting for. His heart seemed to swell to twice its normal size within his chest cavity, making him breathless as his impatient, unsteady hands dropped to the waistband of his trousers and dealt summarily with the zip.

And Madre di Dio! Did she know what her eyes were saying to him as they rose, limpid dark pools full of yearning neediness, to lock again with his?

Leaning over her, he touched her soft lips with the tips of his fingers and she parted them with immediate, telling response, her long-lashes drifting closed over those beautiful sultry eyes.

He lowered his tight, throbbing body on to the bed beside her, hot masculine pleasure flowing through him in a wild unstoppable tide as she turned to him, those delicate naked limbs reaching for him, holding him, her arms around his body, her legs entwined with his, her gloriously s.e.xy mouth raised to his.

He wanted to lose himself in that mouth, in that exquisite body. The need was raw and primitive, but 'Slowly, my angel,' he murmured thickly, needing to savour this moment, the forerunner of the climax that had haunted his mind for far too long, savour this timeless moment before the blessed release from private nightmares of anger and frustration.

Even so, he could no more stop his hands from sweeping down the length of her body, sweeping away the tiny briefs, the final barrier between them.

He heard her soft intake of breath, felt her body shake with fine tremors as the instinctive, urgent arching of her hips met his full arousal and he knew the sting of desire was building in her, unfettered, hot and greedy, meeting his own.

His hand on the seductive curve of her hips pressed her closer and lightning forked through his loins as she moved against him, her sweet mouth trailing feverish kisses along the length of his throat.

Diego dragged in a harsh breath. This was what he'd wanted, wasn't it? Lisa's wantonly willing body in his bed, pleasuring him, washing away the years of anger and bitterness.

And yet- He wanted more. Far more than the primeval act of mating. He had no idea where the sudden need had sprung from but the power of it was an insistent beat in his brain.

Feeling her skin against his skin, the heated urgency that was melding them together, two bodies as one, had wrought a change in him, a shift in his underlying emotions. This thing-the path to revenge he'd put in train-was debasing both of them.

Knowing he could be an all-time loser, committing himself to frustrated needs, no earthly chance of redemption, Diego levered himself up on one elbow, his eyes narrowed solemnly on her lovely face.

His voice flat with the knowledge of what he was about to do, the outcome uncertain, he told her, 'The game's over, Lisa. You've kept your side of the unworthy bargain I forced on you-coming willingly to my bed-and I'll keep mine.' He shifted his weight slightly, putting an unwanted s.p.a.ce between them and hating it, craving the ultimate closeness which now might never come. 'The magazine's safe. Your father won't have occasion to lower his new found good opinion of you.' He dragged in a harsh breath, his stomach hollow. 'And you're free to go back to your own room right now, if that's what you want, and back to London as soon as we can arrange a flight. Just say the word.'

Shock froze Lisa's body, wiped out her vocal cords. He didn't want her! She was offering and he was saying no thanks! His sole and despicable intention had been to humiliate her.

Struggling helplessly to work out what was happening here, she scoured his shadowed face with desperate eyes but found po answer, merely enigma. His moods could change faster than a teenager's. Marbella this morning. And now this.

Now that he'd proved to himself that he could bring her to the point of writhing about on his bed, naked and frantic for his love-making, he was throwing her out like the worthless object he had decided she was!

'You are one vile human being! Do you know that?' burst from her on a wild tide of really loathing him. Limbs flailing, humiliation exploding inside her, Lisa tried to struggle off the bed, get as far away from the monster as she possibly could.

'Tranquilo.' Two gently determined hands curved round her shoulders, pressing her back against the pillows. A smile mellowed his voice. 'Allow the vile human being to finish.'

At her seething snort of outrage and ineffectual struggles the smile vanished, leaving his voice ragged. 'I want you to stay. Believe me, I want it more than anything else. But only if you want it too. Without threats hanging over your head, Lisa. You don't owe me anything and if you stay with me it must be of your own free will. Otherwise, when we make love it will be meaningless. Do you understand what I'm saying?'

Poleaxed into speechlessness, Lisa lifted her hands to cup his beloved face. Her heart was suddenly so full she was sure it was about to burst. He wanted her to stay with him; he'd said so with a sincerity that made her heart ache. He wanted to make love with her, not just have s.e.x. And he wanted it to mean something!

He did care about her. It was obvious, wasn't it? Her breath exhaled on an emotional sob. She wriggled forward, reclaiming the small unendurable s.p.a.ce he'd put between them. Maybe he was remembering the wonderful magical times they'd shared all those years ago, was regretting having played around, one girl for the daylight hours, one for the evening. Maybe...

Expelling a driven moan, Lisa dragged his head down to hers and kissed him with a wild hunger that drew an answering blisteringly pa.s.sionate response. Only when the need for breath became imperative was she able to tell him what was in her heart, her voice no more than a whisper as she confessed, 'I want-to stay. I want you, Diego, I want everything back the way it was.'

'That can't happen, my angel,' Diego denied wryly, one hand gently caressing her fine-boned shoulder. 'The past can't be reclaimed, no matter how much we wish it could be. We are both older and hopefully wiser. All we can do,' he said thickly, 'is concentrate on the present.' His hand slipped lower, resting possessively on the throbbing peak of one breast then sliding to the other, the hot pleasure almost more than she could stand as her whole body was invaded by a desire so intense it shocked the breath out of her body.

'You are so beautiful. I ache for you!' His voice was ragged with emotion, more heavily accented than she had ever heard it. 'I have dreamed of this,' he confessed rawly, the touch of his hands as he explored her willing body slow and sensual, blowing her mind, making her writhe against him, her breath coming in frantic gasps until he held both her hands above her head and murmured softly, 'Patience, my angel. I am a possessive man and I will give pleasure such as you have never known.'

His black eyes smouldered with male intent. 'After tonight there will be no room in your mind for any other man.'

There had never been any other man, Lisa thought dizzily and wondered whether she should tell him, then gave up on all brain functions as his lips erotically travelled the path of his exploring hands.

She'd been a virgin; he was sure of that. She might have been a flirt and a tease, but she hadn't been promiscuous. She hadn't even slept with Clayton; he'd stake his life on it.

Looking down at her fragile, fine-boned body as at last she slept, Diego's heart swelled with an emotion he couldn't name. The triumph of male possession? A release from the devils of the past?

Love?

Love. His mouth compressed wryly. He'd loved her once, adored her, put his angel on a golden pedestal. And look where that had got him! His days of romanticising fallible womanhood were long gone.

Yet she was ineffably special; he was too honest to deny that.

Tenderly, careful not to wake her, he drew the silken cover over her body, as graceful in sleep as she always was awake, and eased himself off the bed. Fingers of dawn light were creeping into the room. Each climax had been more stunning than the last. He had never known anything like it but, in spite of all that sensual overload, he was bursting with vitality.

A long walk was called for. Something to tax his body and leave his mind free to work out his feelings, let him see the future-if there could be any future for the two of them, he amended-more clearly.

Lisa woke to floods of sunlight. She could hear the doves calling in the courtyard below, a soft sweet sound that matched her mood perfectly. Releasing herself from the tangle of the silky cover she wriggled over and stared at the empty s.p.a.ce beside her.

Diego was already up and about. It didn't matter that he'd left her to sleep alone. She vented a dreamy sigh. He could change his mood more often than he changed his socks and that didn't matter either.

She knew what she knew.

What he felt for her went far deeper than simple male l.u.s.t; she knew it did. Hadn't he offered to let her go before things went any further, hadn't he admitted he wanted her to stay, but only if she wanted it too? And throughout the long, ecstatic night he'd made love with such pa.s.sionate tenderness, as if she were the most precious thing in the world!

It couldn't possibly get any better or any more revealing of his true feelings than that, could it?

Slipping out of bed, she hugged her arms around her body. She was actually squirming with happiness inside. She felt intoxicated by it. Despite what he'd said, they could recapture the past. And if he still went on denying it then she'd have to make sure to change his mind!

The embarra.s.sing problem of getting back to her own rooms, naked, without being met by Rosa or Manuel, was solved when Diego walked into the room moments later. He was carrying something over his arm; she didn't register what because she only had eyes for him, for his heart-wrenching gorgeousness.

Those dark eyes were intimately warm, his slow smile infectious, and the way the fine cotton of his sleeveless shirt clung to the wide span of his shoulders, those long legs clothed in narrow-fitting sand coloured jeans, made her legs go hollow, her tummy tighten with intense physical need.

Feeling the rosy peaks of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swell and tingle, her pale skin bloomed with warm colour as his eyes made a languid tour of every naked inch on display.

Her eyelids drooped, she could hardly keep them open and her breath was coming in ragged little gasps. She loved him so, wanted him until she went weak and boneless from the tips of her toes to the top of her tousled head.

Diego walked towards her and then past without so much as touching her. Lisa's face fell a mile but her dismay was swiftly forgotten when he laid garments she vaguely recognised from the stuff he'd splurged out on yesterday down on the bed and turned to her, grinning wickedly over his shoulder.

'I've been retrieving last night's careless scatterings.' He straightened up, his feet planted apart, his soft, slightly breeze-ruffled black hair gleaming in the shafts of sunlight, his eyes smiling for her. 'We left your dress and a fortune in diamonds in the courtyard, remember?' A slanting brow quirked. 'Now, I don't mind the staff putting two and two together but I thought you might.' His mobile mouth curved. 'The diamonds are back in the safe and your dress is back in your room.'

And after that he'd tramped the hillside, getting his mind straight and not liking himself. He could only describe his behaviour as appalling. He'd verged on an unprecedented and shameful temper tantrum after she'd admitted that holding on to her father's approval was the only reason she'd agreed to his unholy proposition. So, not recognising what was actually happening to him when it smacked him squarely in the face, he'd set out to punish her.

He'd been falling in love with her all over again and had been too stiff-necked and blinkered to admit it to himself. He didn't care how badly she'd behaved in the past. Madre di Dios! She'd been little more than a child at the time!

'And this-' a lean tanned hand indicated the clothing he'd put down on the bed, drawing a steadying breath to get himself back on track '-is for you to dress in after you've showered.' He glanced at her enquiringly. 'So, breakfast in half an hour?'

At her mute nod he dipped his head understandingly and came to her, where her feet felt rooted to the polished boards, his hands thrust firmly in his trouser pockets. 'I know.' His voice lowered with husky understanding. 'But if I touch you we'll never leave that bed. And I've got plans for today. There's a cove I know of, not more than a hour's drive away. . No one ever goes there. It will be just the two of us.'

He wanted to take her in his arms, feel that beautiful body trembling with need against his own, kiss her until they both forgot what planet they were on, wanted it so much that he didn't know how he managed to get himself out of that room.

But how could he talk rationally to her when they were in the throes of making love-which was what would happen if he stayed in the intimacy of the bed-room with her-naked and utterly desirable as she was?

Couldn't be done.

On the secret silvery beach, just the two of them and all the time in the world, he could open his heart to her. They could disregard all that had happened in the past and plan for the future. A long and happy future together. If she'd have him, if she could fall in love with him all over again.

And if she was having any trouble in that direction he'd make it happen for her just as it had for him, he decided with a surge of fierce Spanish possessiveness before he turned his mind to more practical matters and stalked off to find Rosa to order a lavish picnic hamper.

A tender smile on her face, Lisa couldn't move for quite some time. They were to spend the day together. Not like yesterday when he'd stalked around with a face like thunder, spending money on her as if it were an unpleasant but necessary duty. Not like the days that had gone before when they'd met only briefly at mealtimes, either. But together, really together, and loving too. Well, she was almost certain about that.

Almost.

With a guilty squawk, realising time was flying, she showered in his bathroom and scurried back to the bedroom to get into the clothes he'd so thoughtfully brought in here for her.

Gossamer fine underwear, just panties, no bra. Her face bloomed with frankly delicious l.u.s.tful pleasure because the top he'd provided was definitely provocative-a fine cotton, much the same colour as her eyes, sleeveless, cut to reveal her shoulders with a s.e.xy V neck and tiny b.u.t.tons down the front. She could just imagine him undoing them, slowly, one by one.

Before those mind pictures could get the better of her she stepped into a floaty cream-coloured skirt and thrust the hem of the top under the narrow waistband, then used Diego's comb to restore her hair to its normal sleek, beyond-shoulder-length waterfall.

She was nervous as a kitten faced with, a bristling Alsatian, she admitted as she stepped into the strappy sandals that completed the outfit, frightened of what the future might bring.

What if Diego saw the future as the few weeks, or mere days even, before he had to get back to his busy working life? Nothing more than a stolen interlude of fabulous s.e.x with a very willing woman? And then: goodbye, it's been nice getting reacquainted, see you some time. Maybe.

She took a deep breath to calm herself down, told herself to stop being paranoid-she really meant something to him, didn't she?

Of course she did!

To stop herself from dwelling senselessly on the worst case scenario, she decided to spend a few minutes before joining him for breakfast taking stock of his room in daylight.

Unlike the room she'd been given, it was almost austere, dominated by the huge bed. Highly polished floorboards, no softening colourful rugs. A cavernous wardrobe, heavily carved with what appeared to be exotic fruits and vine leaves, and a solitary desk set against the wall between two of the tall windows.

Gravitating towards it, she noted the angled lamp, the pens in a horn beaker, suggesting that when he was here he sometimes wrote letters or jotted down memos for his staff before retiring for the night.

A photograph in a plain silver frame. A handsome middle-aged couple. His parents? Running her fingers over the frame, Lisa wondered if she'd ever get to meet them and tried to block out the memory of his scathing, 'There are women a man would be happy to introduce to his parents. Patently, you are not one of them.'

That had been before they had made love and found each other again. Things were very different now. Of course they were, she a.s.sured herself staunchly.

A smaller frame was half hidden behind the photograph of the smiling middle-aged couple. Curiously, Lisa slid it out into the light. And her heart literally stopped. Then crashed on. She would never forget that fascinatingly sensual face. The face of the woman she'd seen him with all those years ago. Feeling nauseous, she pushed it roughly back out of sight.

He wouldn't still keep her photograph near his bedside if she'd been simply a young man's fling, part of his wild oat sowing period, would he, part of a promiscuous past he would rather forget. She had to be someone really special to him. The knowledge left Lisa feeling cold and frightened. Had she got everything wrong? Was her heart to be broken all over again? And could she hope to survive it?

Had he married this vibrantly lovely creature? Was that why he kept her photograph beside that of his parents, part of a family group? Was he being unfaithful to his wife, treating her, Lisa, as nothing more than a piece of unfinished business?

He was used to cheating on women, wasn't he, as she knew to her cost. She should have remembered that.

Her hand flew to her trembling mouth to smother a cry of pain, the suspicions crowding in, thick and fast. And why, in the name of all that was holy, hadn't she thought to ask him, way back in London, if he was married?

She swung out of the room. It was an omission she was about to remedy. The last time, when faced by evidence of his perfidy, she had cut him brutally out of her life without telling him why.

This time it would be different.