The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress (10 page)

“Because you seemed so distracted when you walked into the building after our lunch together.  And I looked out my office window at eight o’clock and that ridiculous excuse for a car was still sitting in the parking lot.  I was…concerned that you might have had trouble getting home.”

She couldn’t stop the warm sensation that flooded through her at his
apprehension.  It was very sweet of him, and completely unexpected.  “Well,” she said, then had to clear her throat because some silly lump had lodged there.  “Well, thank you for your worry, but as you can see, I’m fine.  And I’m eating, so you won’t feel the need to take me out to lunch tomorrow.”

“But I’m still picking you up tomorrow
evening,” he stated and he wasn’t taking any arguments there.

Elana sighed and decided to enjoy her pasta despite his presence.  She looked down and took another bite.  “So…what were you working on so late tonight?” she asked.  She refused to be concerned about his work habits.  She knew that he didn’t used to work so late into the evening because she’d been with him almost every night except for the times when she had to study.  And even
many of those nights, she was with him although she’d have her books out on her lap while he went over whatever reports he was working on.  Seven years ago, he would pull her down onto his sofa, making sure there was no space between them and his arm was wrapped around her shoulder, holding her close while they worked on their separate issues.  Now they sat across the table from each other while she tried to maintain as much distance as possible. 

“There is a large acquisition that is scheduled to be announced next week.  We’re just making sure all the legal documents are signed and accurat
e now.  This is the final stage of the acquisition.”

“What troubled, ineptly managed company are you pulling into your empire now?” she asked, trying to appear casual, but she was actually fascinated, always had been by the way he worked.  He used to tell her about his plans, the way he would maneuver people into his net before closing the trap.  And afterwards, he would generally make sure that everyone felt as if they wanted to be in the trap.  He used to explain that happy employees made for higher productivity so there wasn’t any point in acquiring a hostile company if it could be avoided. 

“I can’t discuss it,” he replied, sipping his wine and looking over at her lovely, if startled features.  Did she really think he would discuss a multi-billion dollar deal with someone like her who thought morals could come and go at her whim?  He wasn’t that much of a fool any longer. 

Elana shrugged, but lowered her eyes so he couldn’t see how hurt she was by his distrust.  “I understand.  There’s a lot of money at stake.  You can’t be too careful.”  She pushed her plate back, no longer hungry but she picked up her wine glass and took a long sip.  “When will it be announced?”

“We’ll go public with the information next Monday.  Until then, there’s too much that the other company could lose if it became public.”  Why was he trying to soothe her?  He shouldn’t care if she was hurt by his lack of trust, he told himself.  She’d put herself into this position by lying to him and cheating on him with another man.  After her betrayal, he vowed never to put himself into a vulnerable position with her, or anyone else again. 

“I hope it goes well,” she said
, genuinely proud of all he had accomplished.  He was one of the ‘good’ employers who genuinely cared about his staff and it showed in the profits he was able to produce for his investors.  If he happened to be one of the main investors in his corporation, all the better for him.  His philosophy carried a great deal of weight with all of his managers, but other businesses tried to imitate his business model although none were able to achieve the same level of success.  “So tell me about tomorrow night.  What’s so important about the evening?”

He shrugged and finished off his spaghetti.  “
This is really good,” he said as he savored the last bite.  “You were always a great cook.  Why did you stop cooking?”

She lifted her plate and brought it into the kitchen to wash.  “What’s the point of cooking for only one person?” she asked as she pulled out the scrub brush from underneath the sink.

He was right behind her, watching her carefully.  “Then why don’t you have someone come in and put meals into your fridge or your freezer?  It would make life a little easier and give you meals that are healthy and easy to heat up.”

She glanced over her shoulder at him as if he’d grown a second head.  “I can’t afford a service like that.”  She shook her head as she went back to washing the dishes. 

“Why doesn’t your father do that for you?”

She laughed and looked back at him, easier now since he was leaning against the counter right next to her.  It wasn’t good though because his shoulders were too close.  All of him was too close, actually.  “We’ve already discussed this when you showed contempt for my happy abode, Gaston.  My father has his own life.  He doesn’t support me, nor should he.”

His eyes darkened with her response and he shook his head.  “A man has the right to ensure that his daughter is safe and healthy,” he grumbled, obviously disagreeing with her.  “Has he seen where you live?  And has he seen how much weight you’ve lost?”

She
shrugged her shoulders, implying that her father’s opinion wasn’t relevant.  “I visited my father just last week.  I had dinner with him and we spoke about the funding.”

“
Which brings up another issue.  Why didn’t he provide for your funding?  Why did he force you to go around to other agencies and find the resources on your own?”

She dropped the
scrub brush and turned to face him.  “You really don’t get this independence thing, do you?  How would you feel if your mother did everything for you?   If she cooked her meals for you, chose your clothing, told you where to live…?”  She waited for some sign that she was getting through to him but he just looked back at her as if he were still trying to figure out why her father wasn’t taking better care of her. 

His hands on his hips, he glared right back at her. 
“No.  I get it.  I just know that I wouldn’t let my daughter live like this.”

She sighed and shook her head.  “I think you just contradicted yourself, Gaston.”  She finished drying the last of the dishes and started wiping down the counters.  When she finished all the other areas, there was only the section where he was leaning against and she glared at him.  “Excuse me,” she said with sarcasm.  “And by the way, I’ve already eaten.  Don’t you have some place to go?  Like your own place?” she asked pointedly. 

He laughed softly.  “Trying to get rid of me?” He could see the slight shaking of her hands as she held the towel.  She was just as aware of him as he was of her. 

He reached out and pulled her closer, taking the towel out of her hands and looking at her fingernails, his thumb rubbing against the nails. 

Elana wanted to curl her fingers up, to hide the broken nails that hadn’t been filed or buffed in years.  “I think you should go.”

“I think I should kiss you.”

She tried to pull back, but he wouldn’t release her hands.  “I think that would be an extremely bad idea.”

“Why is that?” he asked softly.  His hand
s shifted from holding her fingers to wrapping gently but firmly around her wrists, pulling her towards him. 

Elana wanted to fight him, but his touch was sapping her strength and her mind had stopped functioning efficiently about two minutes ago.  Her whole body felt heavy, needy and desperate. 

His thumb rubbed the underside of her wrists gently, sending tingles of excitement up her arms, then shooting down her body to pool in the pit of her stomach.  “Your heart is pounding out of control, Elana.  You want this too, don’t you?”

“No.  You’re misinterpreting my reactions,” she said frantically. 

He smiled slightly as he shook his head.  “I don’t think so.  And I’ve wanted to kiss you from the first moment I walked through your door.  You’ve wanted that too, haven’t you?”

She took in a shaky breath and closed her eyes.  “Gaston, why are you doing this?” she begged
, wishing she could simply step back from him but her fingers were already resting against his massive chest, itching to touch him, to feel the strong muscles underneath the fabric of his shirt.  “We couldn’t hold it together the last time.  Why are you even trying to pretend that it will work this time?  We don’t like each other which is kind of the whole point, isn’t it?” Her brain ordered her feet to step out of his arms, but for some reason her feet were ignoring her brain’s commands. 

His hands ran up her back, sending shivers everywhere. 
“I don’t think our bodies care what the point is.  I think both of us just want to alleviate this burning need that has flared up between us.”

“I care,” she said, but he ignored her.  His mouth covered
hers, pushing away all the other arguments she was going to make which would give her the strength to push him away.  She couldn’t even claim that she resisted his kiss because as soon as his lips touched hers, she was lost, desperate to feel his touch and lifting her head to meet him. 

He wasn’t asking this time either.  His mouth was demanding, the pressure increasing when she seemed to pull back.  But he’d been misinterpreting her actions because she wasn’t pulling back, just shifting her head and her body to get a better angle, to deepen the kiss.  Secretly, she’d longed for this ever since earlier today when he’d kissed her before their lunch.  She’d wanted to see if it had been real, if the feelings he’d evoked within her had been as intense as she’d remembered.  And she hadn’t just imagined those feelings.  In fact, now that they were alone, in her apartment
without the possibility of interruption, she thought that perhaps this kiss might be more intense. 

Her fingers splayed over his chest, moving upwards around his shoulders and touching those muscles underneath the tailored shirt. 
In the back of her mind, the part that wasn’t shivering from reaction, she realized that she’d been correct.  His muscles were bigger, the areas on him that had always been strong were now bulging, showing that he had increased those workouts that had exhausted her while she’d watched him.  With a whimper of need, her hands floated down his shoulders to his arms, curling around those biceps that, despite her better judgment, had fascinated her when she’d first seen him. 

She wasn’t sure how it happened, but suddenly she was no longer standing on the floor of her kitchen but was instead sitting on the countertop with her legs wrapped around his waist and he was leaning into her, his body pressing against her intimately and she was gasping for breath as he kissed his way down her neck, along her shoulders and lower.  His mouth found her breast, unerringly discovering her nipple through the fabric of her
red sweater and bra but his hands quickly rectified that issue by pulling the sweater over her head and tossing it behind him onto the floor of her kitchen. 

Elana didn’t care.  She was too overwhelmed by the heat that surged through her when his
hands came back to her body without the impediment of fabric to slow him down.  His fingers slid the strap of her bra down off her shoulder, which released the tension in the fabric covering her breast and he took full advantage of that issue.  One finger slid down inside, rubbing against the taut peak and sending lightning bolts of fire down through her body and into her core, making her wiggle against him.  She pressed her core closer, rubbing against the hardness she had found and trying to assuage the intense need, the almost painful desire that was coursing through her. 

And then he stopped! 

Elana pulled back and looked up at him, her eyes almost tearing up with the need to have him continue.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice barely registering. 

Gaston took a deep breath, flexing his hands against her
beautiful, white skin that felt softer than satin and more amazing than he remembered.  But this wasn’t his goal, he told himself.  He had to keep in mind why he was with her and what the ultimate goal was.  He couldn’t let himself be distracted by her beauty and her scent.  He knew he could have her, eager and willing, but she’d never speak to him afterwards. 

He shook his head, trying to come up with a reasonable answer for stopping.  They were adults and there really was no real reason to stop, except for his mission which he couldn’t reveal to her. 

He took a deep breath, trying hard to get his body back under control.  “I want this,” he said with firmness so she wouldn’t misinterpret his intentions.  Or at least she wouldn’t suspect him of his real intentions.  “But not like this,” he said.  “There’s too much anger between us and I don’t want that.  When I take you to bed,” he said, putting a finger over her mouth because he’d used ‘when’ instead of ‘if’ but in his mind, intimacy was a foregone conclusion between the two of them.  “When I take you to bed,” he started once again, “I want it to be real.  I don’t want you thinking about any of your old boyfriends or any man in the lab that might be interesting.  I want your whole focus to be on me.”

Elana blinked, trying to interpret his words.  She was still sitting on the counter, trying to
rein in the raging desire that his hands and mouth had created within her and she didn’t like the fact that he’d called a halt to their lovemaking. 

And then his words hit her.  He didn’t want her to be thinking of any other man?  Why would he even say somethi
ng like that?  Had she said something when he was kissing her that would indicate that she wasn’t completely into the moment?