ESMÉ WASN’T TERRIFIED of Rio, physically. As big as he was, as powerfully male, she knew he would never hurt her.
But she hadn’t expected the sight of him to hurt so much. She thought she’d forgotten the rugged masculinity that radiated from his long, leanly muscled body; forgotten the black hair that felt like silk; the piercing emerald eyes that could see into her soul; the straight nose and wide, mobile mouth capable of such drugging kisses when he made love to her …
No. It hadn’t been love, it had been sex. That was all he wanted to give; all she wanted from him. Hadn’t she told him so? Pleasure. That was what they’d both sought. No entanglements, nothing to distract either of them from their careers.
It was just that, sometimes, lying in his arms after he’d spent himself in her, she’d felt lonely. Unbearably lonely.
She’d almost admitted that to him one night.
“Querida?” he’d whispered. “You are so quiet. Is something troubling you?”
“No,” she’d said, and that was good because, soon after, he’d gone to Madrid without her. He’d never left her before, not in the six months they’d been together, and when she added that to the other subtle changes in their relationship, she’d realized he was getting ready to end their affair.
“Querida,” he said now, in a way that made a mockery of the endearment, “I take it you’re not pleased to see me.”
Esmé looked into Rio’s eyes, saw the coldness in them and her heart hardened. He had been her lover. Now, he was a stranger. He had only come after her because she was the first woman who’d walked out on him.
“What are you doing here, Rio?”
A tight smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “As always, direct and to the point.”
“I would appreciate the same courtesy from you.”
“Of course.” He looked around him with studied ease. “This is Espada, isn’t it?” he said politely.
“Yes.”
“Well, then, I’ve come to see Jonas Baron.”
“For what reason?”
Rio folded his arms. “Are you his secretary?”
“No.”
“Then it’s none of your business.”
“It’s very much my business,” Esmé snapped. “I’m not a fool. I know why you’re really here.”
A slow smile curved his mouth. “Do you,” he said flatly.
“Yes. I do. And I’m not interested.”
“In what?” His dark brows lifted. “Ah. You think I’ve come for you.”
She felt a flush tinge her cheeks. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. It’s there, in those eyes of yours.” She started to turn away and he reached out, caught her wrist. “I hate to disappoint you, querida, but I haven’t come to take you back.”
The heat in her face burned like flame. “That’s good, because I have no intention of going back.”
“Such self-assurance.” His hand tightened on hers; he drew her closer. She could see the gold flecks in his eyes, the flicker of a muscle in his jaw. “Such righteous indignation, querida. As if you were the injured party, not I.”
“You? Injured?” She laughed. “It’s your ego that’s injured, Rio. Look, if it makes you feel better, you can tell people you left me.”
“Damn you!” His eyes burned with green fire. “Do you think I care what people think?”
“Let go of me!” Her mouth thinned as she tried to twist free of his hand. “I left you because I was tired of you.”
“Liar.”
“I know you can’t believe it but that’s how it is. I never wanted to see you again. I don’t want to see you now. Just—just get back on that plane and—”
“Well, now, missy, what kind of hospitality is this?”
Esmé swung around. Jonas Baron was strolling toward them, his bushy white eyebrows raised.
“De Santos,” he said, and held out his hand, “good to meet you.”
Rio let go of her wrist. “And you, sir.”
“I take it you and the little lady here are old friends.” Jonas grinned. “Makes it even better that she’s goin’ to spend the weekend showin’ you around.”
“No,” Esmé said, “no!”
“Yes,” Rio said, and from the quick flash in his eyes, she knew there was no way out….