Kitabı oku: «The Spaniard's Pleasurable Vengeance»

CHAPTER ONE

LATE FOR DINNER with her newfound sister and recently acquired brother-in-law, Randi rushed out of her even more recently acquired office.

She’d been shocked and delighted when Kayla asked Randi if she was interested in taking over managing responsibilities for Kayla’s for Kids, the shelter her sister had founded for at-risk children and youth. The opportunity to do what Randi loved while living near enough to get to know her long-lost sister had been too good to pass up. Besides, she got to use both her degree in business and adjunct degree in social services.

Part of her new job would include launching a second site in the western suburbs of Portland. Apparently, Andreas had donated enough for the expansion as a wedding gift, in addition to designating his new company’s charitable contributions all to Kayla’s for Kids, making fund-raising efforts a lot less stressful for Randi’s team.

It was Randi’s dream job and she adored her sister and brother-in-law for making it possible.

Collision with a hard, muscular wall on the sidewalk abruptly halted Randi’s headlong flight to her car.

She cried out and then immediately started apologizing, even as she felt her balance waver. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you.”

Big, strong hands on her upper arms stopped her bounce backward that would have landed Randi on her backside. “Is that a common occurrence, running into people you didn’t see?” he asked, a foreign accent subtle but unmistakable.

Randi winced. The man could not know the old wound his words bled yet again.

She pulled herself together with a firm mental yank and shrugged. “I’d love to say no, but I have a tendency toward klutziness, especially when I’m in a rush.”

Why she was admitting that particular failing to this gorgeous man, she did not know. Because man, total hottie alert. Easily as tall as her brother-in-law, who stood at six feet four inches, the black-haired man with sexy stubble on his face towered over Randi’s own five feet five inches.

Espresso-brown eyes locked on hers. “I see. Are you in a rush often?”

For whatever reason, she didn’t step back from him. “Not really, just sometimes. Though it’s usually walls I run into, or doorjambs, or you know, furniture. I hardly ever bump into people.”

Even, white teeth flashed in a smile that didn’t quite reach his dark brown eyes. “I’m special, then.”

“You could take it that way, yes.”

He released her arms. Finally, but he did not step out of her personal space. “I believe I will.”

“Okay.” Heat climbed up her neck and into her cheeks that Randi could do nothing about.

He offered his hand. “Basilio Perez.”

“Oh, um, Randi Smith.” She laid her palm against his.

Instead of shaking hands, he lifted hers to his lips, brushing a barely there kiss on the backs of her knuckles. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Smith.”

Randi finally understood what it meant to be electrified by a man’s touch. His lips against her skin sent frissons of sensation throughout her body and she gasped.

“Ms. Smith? Are you all right?” There was something in his too-knowing gaze that said he was perfectly aware of the effect he was having on her.

She tried to speak, then cleared her throat and tried again. “Randi, please.”

“Randi is short for?”

“Oh, um, no one ever asks. They just ask stuff like if I enjoy having a boy’s name.”

“So?” He hadn’t let go of her hand and he now brushed his thumb over her knuckles, where his lips had been.

She had no thought of not answering. “Miranda.”

“Lovely name.”

“You think so?” She’d always found it old-fashioned.

“I do.”

“Basilio is pretty neat, too. Spanish?” she guessed.

“You got it in one. My friends call me Baz.”

“My friends call me Randi.”

“I prefer Miranda.”

Did that mean he didn’t want to be friends? Only he’d implied she should call him Baz. “Are we going to be friends?”

“I would like that.”

Good. “Me, too. I mean...” But she wasn’t sure what she’d meant to say, the sexual chemistry between them playing havoc with the efficient firing of synapses in her brain.

“I hope you mean just that.”

“Yes, okay.”

“So, dinner tonight?” he asked, still caressing her hand.

“I have plans with my sister and brother-in-law.” And as much as she wanted to spend time with her sister, giving up a date with such a delicious man was hard.

“After-dinner drinks?”

“Really?” Oh, man, why had she asked that? “I mean, that would be great. Fine.”

She was just going to sink into the sidewalk right now.

“When and where?”

She thought about the location of the restaurant she was supposed to meet her family at and a likely spot near it. “How about the piano bar at the Heathman?”

It was quiet, with lots of places to sit in an intimate tête-à-tête.

“Fine. What time?” Basilio asked.

“Eight o’clock?” She was having an early dinner with Kayla and Andreas.

“Perfect. I will get my own dinner and meet you there.”

Taking a risk, Randi asked, “You could join us?”

“You are sure I would not be an unwelcome intrusion?”

She loved the formal cadence of his speech, so different from her own. “Not at all. I’m sure Kayla and Andreas would not mind at all.”

But she’d better call and give a heads-up on her way over.

“Then I would be pleased to accept.”

“Great. Um, you can meet me there?”

“Naturally. I would not expect you to get into a car with a stranger after such short acquaintance.”

And why she wished she could, she wasn’t even going to think about. Ever since the trouble five years before, Randi had become very wary of new people and even making friends, much less dating. But no way was this man a grubby reporter, looking for lascivious details from the years-old tragedy.

Not in his five-thousand-dollar suit and shoes that probably cost more than she made in a week.

They made arrangements to meet at the restaurant in twenty minutes. Then Randi was running for her car, even later than she had been.

* * *

Basilio pulled into the valet parking for the Heathman.

A walk from the restaurant to the piano bar would be further opportunity to draw out Miranda Smith née Weber. Bumping into her on purpose had made two things very clear. One, the picture in the file he’d had compiled on her did not capture the sweet naïveté she wore like a cloak, nor her unconscious sensuality. Two, seduction might well be his best course of action in achieving the goal his family needed.

While intimidation tactics were not yet off the table, he had a feeling using the instant attraction between them would be more easily effective.

Walking into the restaurant a few minutes later, he was once again struck by the clarity of her gray eyes as they met his across the roomful of diners in the upscale steak house. Even in the subdued lighting of the restaurant, the gray orbs glowed. Miranda was sitting with Andreas Kostas and another woman with eyes the exact color and vibrancy of Miranda’s, declaring her the sister.

Basilio allowed the maître d’ to lead him across the restaurant to the linen-clad table for four. Appetizers and bread were already on the table, indicating the Kostases had been there for a while.

Miranda stood up. “You made it.”

Basilio nodded, finding her enthusiasm almost charming. There was such an innocence about this woman, he found it hard to believe she had plans to blow his family’s peace right out of the water. She did not look or behave like someone who would go on a talk show to spite them, particularly after committing such a heinous act as hitting a small child with her car.

But he had it on good authority that Miranda Smith, for all her airs of innocence, was exactly that kind of woman.

He could not afford to forget that fact.

“This is my sister, Kayla Kostas, and her husband, Andreas.” Miranda indicated the other two people with one hand, nearly knocking over a filled water goblet.

Her brother-in-law saved the table from getting doused with a discernible lack of impatience.

Basilio inclined his head to the married couple. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Randi said she met you on the street?” Kayla asked as Andreas sat down, clearly wanting more information.

Miranda had dropped back into her chair across the dining table from him. She smiled shyly at him, her cheeks tinged with color. Was she embarrassed she’d allowed him to pick her up?

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.”