The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance
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He winked at her and watched the color darken along her lovely cheekbones, then turned his head to meet Kayla’s eyes. “We bumped into each other.”
“More like I mowed him down in my rush to be on time.”
The twinge he felt that she was taking responsibility for the collision he had orchestrated was odd, and Basilio ignored it. “You were in a rush to get here, I believe.”
“I was late.”
“I guessed.”
She ducked her head. “Yes, well...”
“Do you make a habit of picking up women you bump into on the street?” Andreas asked, his tone cynical.
“Having dinner with a beautiful woman is never a hardship.” Basilio met the assessing green gaze steadily.
He’d spent years rebuilding his father’s company and the Perez name in business circles. Basilio had learned long ago not to allow anyone else’s opinion of him, or his actions, to disconcert him.
Andreas Kostas was not the only dangerous business shark in the room.
“You didn’t answer my question.” The other man was not easily fobbed off.
Basilio didn’t mind. “I did not.”
He was going to leave it that way until he noted the uncertainty clouding Miranda’s expression. His plans required her trust.
So he spoke to her, not the nosy Greek sitting to Basilio’s left. “I have never picked up a woman I met on the street. I did not pick you up like a lost puppy. I asked you for drinks. You suggested dinner and I was pleased to accept.”
“If that’s not the definition of a pickup, I don’t know what is,” Kayla inserted.
But Miranda looked happier and that was all that Basilio was worried about. She smiled at him. “I’m glad to hear that.”
“Be assured you are not one of many.” She was, in fact, the only woman who could give his family what they so desperately needed: peace.
Miranda let out a small gasp, but the sound that came from her brother-in-law was far more cynical.
Basilio gave him a dry look. “How do you like venture capitalism? Different from digital security?”
“You meant to run into Randi!” Kayla exclaimed. “You wanted to meet Andreas. You know who he is.”
Miranda’s head jerked, and her beautiful gray eyes filled with hurt.
This was getting ridiculous. Basilio frowned at the sister. “While I applaud your concern for Miranda, please stop putting such negative thoughts into her head. I assure you, if I wanted to meet your husband to discuss a business venture, he would take my call.”
Andreas narrowed his gaze. “Don’t glower at my wife. She’s just looking out for Randi.”
“As I said, laudable, but unnecessary.”
“What does he mean, Andreas? Do you know something about Basilio?” Kayla asked.
Andreas’s jaw hardened, like he’d just realized who Basilio was. “Basilio Perez is the president of the worldwide real estate and hotel consortium known as Perez Holdings. He has fingers in more pies than Sebastian Hawk.”
“You are?” Miranda asked, looking pale.
“I am. That does not change your desire to dine with me, does it?” he teased, knowing it wouldn’t. He’d never met a woman not drawn to his power and position.
She looked like she wasn’t sure of her answer, though. “I’m not in your league.”
“I’m not looking for a baseball team to dine with, just one quirky, charming woman and her very suspicious relatives.” Not that they had nothing to worry about in her regard, but their concerns were in all the wrong directions.
While Basilio dated his fair share of women, he was by no means a womanizer. And he was not looking to use her for her family business connections.
“Oh, that’s kind of sweet,” Kayla said.
Miranda nodded. “It is.”
Andreas was still watching Basilio with suspicion. However, after they ordered their food and the evening progressed, the other man thawed some. Basilio found himself actually enjoying conversation with the somewhat socially awkward Kayla, her very business-savvy husband and the unexpectedly sweet Miranda.
“So, are you here looking at an acquisition?” Andreas asked at one point.
Basilio put down his glass of very good scotch after taking a sip. “That’s not something I can discuss.”
“Why not?” Miranda asked, pausing with the bite of steak she had been about to eat dangling on her fork.
“If word got out I was looking at a property, the sale price would increase immediately.”
“Because you have deep pockets?” Miranda asked, sounding like she was trying to understand.
“Exactly.” He was, in fact, looking at a property, a historic hotel that had closed down and would need extensive remodeling and updates before it could be opened again.
But the property was beautiful and the bones of the hotel were strong. He hadn’t made a decision about the purchase yet, though.
“So, property acquisition is your thing?” Kayla asked.
“Sometimes.” He had too much to do running Perez Holdings for him to be a full-time acquisitions manager. “I enjoy it.”
“Then maybe you can help Randi find the property for our expansion house.”
“Expansion house?” he asked, like he didn’t have all the details in his report on the family back in his hotel suite.
“I run Kayla’s for Kids.” Miranda smiled, her tone saying how much satisfaction her job gave her. “It’s a shelter for children and youth.”
“Not their parents?”
Miranda’s smile did not dim. “If their parents are around, we have services to help them, but our focus is the kids. The number of homeless teenagers and children in need of a safe place after school is greater than the facilities available to serve them.”
“And you want to help these children?” Was she looking for absolution in service after what she’d done five years before?
“I do.” Miranda’s eyes darkened to molten silver. “Children deserve the best we can give them, but just as important, they are the beginning of change. If we give them hope for now, a chance to learn and grow, there’s no way of knowing how much each child will touch and influence the world in their lifetime.”
“So it starts with giving them a place to play games after school?”
“And experience art, a place to read a book in peace, a place to be safe.” Her passion was damn near addictive.
Could he believe she was that committed to the welfare of children and still be the woman willing to tear his own nephew’s life apart with media interest?
“You are adding on another shelter, then?” he asked.
“Yes, where the rate of homeless teens is one of the highest.” She named a western suburb of Portland. “But I don’t expect you to help me find the building. I’m sure you’re way too busy.”
“On the contrary, I would be happy to help you.” Doing so would give him the excuse he required to spend time with her.
“Really?” she asked, her lovely face covered in delight.
“Yes.”
“That’s great. I’m supposed to look at properties tomorrow.”
“Send me a list of the properties and your requirements for the shelter. I’ll vet them and see what else I can find for you.”
“Seriously? You’d do that? I’ve got a Realtor working with me. She’s going to donate her commission to the shelter, but doesn’t seem to understand the concept of a budget and long-term running costs.”
“Send me her name, as well, and I will make sure she understands your requirements, or I will find a Realtor who will.”
“Oh, I don’t want you intimidating her. Like I said, she’s generously donating her commission to the shelter.”
“That donated commission could end up costing you quite a bit more in the long run.”
“I tried to tell both Kayla and Randi this.” Andreas gave both women a speaking look. “But they’re convinced that anyone willing to donate their income is as committed to the best interests of the shelter as they are.”
“Give me her name and I will make certain.”
Miranda bit her lip. “I really don’t want you scaring her.”
“You think I would?”
“Um, just sitting at dinner with you is a little intimidating. Being under your scrutiny in a business setting?” Miranda gave an exaggerated shiver. “That would be downright frightening.”
“And then some,” Kayla said with a firm nod.
Andreas looked just a little horrified at his wife’s honesty, but Basilio merely laughed, not offended in the least. He filed away the knowledge that Miranda was quite a bit more discerning than he’d given her credit for.
She might even recognize on some subconscious level that he was a danger to her. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t understand just how ruthless he really was.
No man got to where he was in the business world without being an apex predator.
CHAPTER TWO
RANDI CAUGHT HER breath as Baz put his arm around her waist to walk to the piano bar.
He was so virile and strong. Rich and gorgeous.
An overwhelming example of the male species, and that was no exaggeration.
She was having a hard time understanding what he was doing with her. She wasn’t hideous. Or embarrassingly awkward company, but that didn’t mean she was the usual sort of date for a man like Basilio Perez.
Randi knew who and what she was. A usually shy, moderately pretty woman, who found the company of children easier to navigate than most single men.
She didn’t date a lot, especially after the accident five years ago. Unable to deal with the media frenzy and social media ostracization, the man she’d thought she was going to marry had broken things off. Then Randi had been tricked into dating a reporter who wanted the inside scoop on the woman accused of destroying a family with her carelessness.
Each defection had devastated and demoralized her, the loss of friendships and even her university scholarship only adding to her sense of betrayal. She’d learned not to trust quickly or easily, not with new friends and particularly not with possible boyfriends.
She never allowed strange men to talk her into dinner and drinks.
But Baz wasn’t exactly some random stranger. He was the president of a multibillion-dollar conglomerate. No way did he have a hidden agenda. Randi had nothing the man could want.
However, that didn’t make this date any less bewildering, not to mention disturbing. The more time she spent with him, the more her attraction to him grew. She’d never felt anything as powerful. She wanted him. Seriously, deeply.
His arm around her waist was not helping her sense of self-control, either.
That simple point of contact ratcheting up the unexpected, unfamiliar and yet incredible sensations of desire coursing through her.
“So, um, do you come to Portland often?” She nearly winced at her gauche question. It sounded like she was fishing for the future and she was too smart to think they had one of those.
“This is my first time.”
“Really? It’s an amazing city that prides itself on being weird.” She adored the eccentricity mixed with a good dose of cosmopolitan culture and had grown to love her new home in a very short amount of time.
“So I’ve been told.”
“I just moved here a couple of months ago, but I wouldn’t mind showing you some of the sights, if you like.” Randi waited with cautious hope for Baz’s answer to what was for her a very bold and unprecedented offer.
“I would like that.” Dark eyes glinting with something like satisfaction, he smiled down at her. “Getting a feeling for the area is part of how I make decisions about whether or not to buy.”
“So you are here looking for a property.” She knew it.
But she did her best to ignore the tendril of hope unfurling inside her. If he bought a property, he’d come back. Wouldn’t he?
“Perhaps” was all he said.
She laughed, finding something about his caginess endearing. “I’m not going to blab. Even if I did, who could I tell that would impact you?” she teased. “I’m a social worker, not a real estate mogul.”
His responding laughter sent shivers of sensation through her. “As you say.”
“But you’re still not going to tell me, are you?”
“No.”
“You’re a very cautious man.”
“I would not be where I am if I were not.”
“Walking down the street with a woman you just met hours ago?” She made no effort to hide the laughter in her voice, because really? If she was acting impulsively, so was he.
He stopped and pulled her around to face him, their bodies inches apart, his attention intent and on her only. “You enjoy your own humor, don’t you?”
“Someone should.”
He wasn’t smiling exactly, but humor gleamed in his espresso-brown gaze. “You are not as shy as you appear at first.”
“I feel comfortable with you.” Which was really dangerous, but she also found him super-attractive. Could attraction undermine common sense completely? She’d never thought so, but she was adjusting her thinking on that issue fast.
“That is good to know.”
“I think so, too.” Her words trailed off as his head lowered toward hers. She stared up into his dark gaze; her lips parted of their own accord. “Are you going to kiss me?”
His answer was his mouth pressing to hers.
Sensation exploded inside Randi. Zings of electric current coursed through her body, radiating outward from where their lips touched and sending goose bumps in waves over her skin. Need like she had never known throbbed in her core, making her press her thighs together in instinctive effort to alleviate it. It didn’t work, of course.
She ached for way more than a simple kiss.
Though there was nothing simple about the way Baz’s lips owned hers, giving no quarter, demanding response or submission, with no option for backing off.
At least as far as her body’s response would allow.
Though his hands were on her upper arms, Baz did not actively hold her in place with anything but the press of his lips. Randi responded on a primal, visceral level that would not allow her to hold back, bringing forth sensations she’d read about, but never actually experienced.
Overwhelming passion. Gut-level desire that burned hotter than the California wildfires in the summer. Her nipples beaded with near-painful intensity; her most intimate flesh pulsed with a need for touch; her lips softened and molded to his with hungry ardency.
Randi reveled in every single unfamiliar sensation, responding to the kiss in a way that a public display on the busy sidewalk did not warrant, her own lack of control acting as an irresistible aphrodisiac.
She could no more help giving him kiss for kiss than she could stop breathing.
Breathing might even be less necessary.
Randi curled her fingers around the lapels of Baz’s suit jacket, pulling his body closer to hers. Only then did warm, masculine arms come around her, holding her tight now, his hands pressed tightly to her back and just at the top of her buttocks.
The kiss morphed into something more than possession. It became two people equally intent, equally impassioned, equally lost to their desires.
There could be no doubt, until Baz pulled his head back.
At least his breathing was ragged like hers, his expression pained. “We’ve got to stop. On a public sidewalk is not the place for this.”
Randi didn’t care. This was something new for her. Something craved. Something needed. Refusing to give up the amazing sensations his kiss caused, she rose on her tiptoes, seeking his mouth again, only realizing as his lips cut them off that the needy little sounds she heard were coming from her.
And she did not care. There could be no embarrassment in this level of yearning.
He groaned, the deep, masculine sound traveling through her body, leaving devastation in its wake. Baz invaded her mouth with his tongue. It was not finessed; the demand of his tongue sliding against hers had no lead in, no buildup to the increased intimacy, and again... Randi did not care.
She opened wider for him, melting under the demanding forays. Her tongue tangled with his, taking in his taste, unlike any other taste, pure sex, pure man. Randi kissed him back, letting him feel the unfamiliar and overwhelming passion exploding inside her.
He made a deep sound in his throat, all male want, but then he did the unthinkable. Again.
His hands landing on her shoulders to push her away at the same time as he broke the connection between their mouths for the second time was not only not welcome, it was also torture. Didn’t he understand? She needed his lips, his tongue, his arms tight around her.
She could not suppress the sound of keen disappointment, or control her involuntary move back toward him.
But Baz was made of sterner stuff than she was, apparently, because he held her firmly away. “No, Miranda. Not here. We have put on enough of an entertainment for others.”
She looked around and saw that they did indeed have an audience, several smiles and thumbs-ups directed her way. Only in Portland.
Blushing to the roots of her hair, Randi allowed herself to be set away from the source of her temptation. “I guess we should go into the piano bar, huh?”
Baz inclined his head. “If that is what you wish.”
“I...” What was he saying? Was he ready for the evening to be over?
“Or we could go into the hotel and get a room?” he suggested.
She’d never done that, not once. Randi had not only never had a one-off with a man she’d just met, she’d also never rented a hotel room with a man for the sole purpose of having sex. The illicit nature of the idea was way too alluring.
And that worried her. Where was her deeply ingrained sense of self-preservation?
She asked the only thing her mind could conjure without giving away just how much she wanted to do exactly as he suggested. “Don’t you have a room already?”
His shrug was dismissive. “An executive penthouse condo, but getting there would require waiting to have my car brought around by the valet. Besides, I can’t travel alone. If I’m in my penthouse, my staff can find me even if I turn off my phone.”
She couldn’t imagine that kind of pressure, the knowledge that privacy and alone time were little more than an illusion. Even so.
“You’re saying you want me so much you want to get a room, right here at the Heathman, so we can...” She couldn’t make herself spell it out.
“Pick up where that kiss left off, yes.”
“Oh.”
“Oh?”
“I mean, yes, I’d like that.” What was she saying? Was she agreeing to a hookup in a hotel room with a man she’d only met hours ago?
And if she was, why wasn’t she more freaked out about the idea?
Randi was barely a nonvirgin, having had sex exactly twice. Neither of which had turned out well for her. She and her almost fiancé had gotten intimate just before the accident and subsequent media storm. The reporter had gotten Randi into bed after a few weeks of dating and pretending to be someone else, only to walk away the next morning with his exclusive.
But Baz was not some jerk with a hidden agenda who would break her heart after using her body. It might only be one night; their mutual passion might be a temporary aberration, but at least she wasn’t worried about the aftermath.
Randi was tired of living in the bubble of loneliness that had surrounded her for the past five years.
Whatever happened tomorrow, tonight she got what she just knew was going to be amazing sex, with the most magnetic man she’d ever spoken to, much less kissed.
Baz looked down at her, his dark-chocolate gaze filled with desire. “Well?”
An atavistic chill ran down her spine. This man was a primal alpha and she wanted to meet him passion for passion. “Yes.”
“Yes to the hotel room?”
She nodded.
“I need the word, mi hermosa. There can be no doubt.”
“Yes.”
His smile was killer. “Muy bien. Vente mi, cariña.” He took her hand and set a fast pace for the main entrance to the hotel.
So, he lost his English when he was turned on. Randi liked knowing she could affect him so strongly. And she liked the endearments, too. Even if it was only a one-night stand, what woman didn’t want to be called beautiful and darling? Though beautiful might be stretching it, she wasn’t about to tell him so. Let the man look at her through the filter of lust-filled glasses.
She hadn’t been into the main lobby of the Heathman in years, its nearly hundred-year-old beauty as pristine as when it had first been built in the nineteen-twenties. Both luxurious and gorgeous, with its decorative, rich wood walls and pillars, two-story-high ceiling and elegant decor, the cavernous room intended for greeting guests was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Baz, international business mogul, led her to the desk and had no trouble procuring a room, despite his lack of reservations. The fact he was happy to take the Grand Suite for the night probably had something to do with that.
Randi couldn’t help gasping when she heard the clerk tell Baz how much one night would be. She could pay the rent on her small apartment for two months with what he was willing to pay to have the convenience of a hotel room right that minute.
With original art on the walls—art rarely seen outside a museum, no less—the suite’s full-size living room and dining area decorated in pure modern elegance was separated from the bedroom by a spacious foyer, making the suite bigger than her apartment and way more lavish.
“Stop looking at the furniture. I want your eyes on me,” Baz instructed as he pulled her into his arms.
“But this place is incredible,” she teased, having no problem following his demands.
Even the opulent suite couldn’t hold a candle to the man pulling her close into his body.
Baz’s expression turned thoughtful. “You like it? The clerk said it was booked for tomorrow, but I could probably persuade them to accommodate us.”
Of course the billionaire thought so, despite the fact it was probably some kind of celebrity coming in to stay.
“No. I... It’s just... This place is bigger than my apartment!”
His smile was indulgent. “And would you rather explore it, or me?”
That fast, the desire buzzing along her nerve endings went critical. “You.”
“Then let us go to the bedroom.”
And without warning, she was suddenly in his arms, being carried like a princess into a bedroom fit for royalty. He set her down and ripped the extra pillows from the bed, tossing them onto the floor, before flinging back the duvet.
Then he turned to her. “I think we are both overdressed for what is about to happen.”
Her mouth gone instantly dry, she nodded.
He slipped off his tailored suit jacket and hung it carelessly on an armchair, before toeing off his shoes so he could slip his trousers off and do the same with them. His legs were pillars of muscle; his olive skin sprinkled with dark, masculine hair. He kicked off his socks without looking away from her, no evidence of even the slightest discomfort in his near nudity.
Paralyzed with want and no small dose of insecurity she’d rather pretend she never felt, Randi just watched the Spanish business shark strip.
“You are not going to join me?” he asked, his tone teasing, no doubt there that she wanted what he so clearly did.
The power tie went next, and then the buttons on his shirt before Baz shrugged it off to lay it over his other clothes on the chair, putting acres of golden olive skin on display.
She sucked in air as his muscular, defined torso and chest came into view. “I think your abs have abs. What do you do, like a million sit-ups a day or something?”
“My exercise routine is what you want to talk about?” he demanded, humor lacing his voice, but oh, his eyes.
They burned with everything she felt.
Truthfully? She didn’t want to talk at all. Randi wanted to touch, crossing the few feet of carpet separating them to do just that.
While the tent in his snug, black, silk-knit boxers called to her, she reached up to brush her hands through the black hair on his chest. “So soft.”