Taken the Spaniard's Virgin Read online

  His dark brow quirked. “You are not used to this kind of transport, are you?”

  “No. My career is not quite to the point where I get picked up for shoots by a car and driver. I still take a lot of taxis and public transport.” Deciding to enjoy it rather than be intimidated by the situation, she grinned.

  He swooped, kissing her still smiling mouth with firm possession before lifting his head, his hands cupping her shoulders warmly. “You will do me the favor of not partaking of public transport while you are in Barcelona.”

  She shrugged, making no promises. She did not know how much time he would be able to give her and she was not going to sit in her hotel room twiddling her thumbs while she could be out seeing the sites.

  His eyes narrowed as he helped her into the car. “I will put a car and driver at your disposal when I am not with you.”

  “That’s not necessary, Miguel. I’m quite used to riding public transport.”

  He slid in to sit beside her on the black leather upholstery. “You will allow me to provide this for you as a favor to me.”

  “I will?” she asked, crossing her arms and staring at him.

  “Do you want me to worry about you when I should be concentrating on business?”

  “Of course not.” But she didn’t mind knowing that he would.

  “Then you will avail yourself of my car and driver.”

  “That’s manipulative.”

  He shrugged, looking supremely unrepentant.

  She laughed. “You’re very stubborn, but I can be, too.”

  “But please, not on this issue.”

  “It really worries you?”

  “Yes,mi cielo, it does.”

  She supposed women in his world did not ride the bus. “Fine. If you really want to put a car and driver at my disposal, who am I to turn it down?”

  “Exactly.” He brushed her cheek. “You are so beautiful, but you hear this all the time, no?”

  “It’s different coming from you,” she admitted.

  “I am glad. So, do you have a list of places you want to visit?”

  “Yes, I brought the tourist brochures with me.” She turned and dug them out from her oversize tapestry bag, brandishing them with a flourish. “I came prepared.”

  “Good.” He smiled and reached for the glossy advertisements. “We have time to look through these now. It will take more than a few minutes to reach our destination in midday traffic.”

  “Where are we going for lunch?”

  “I thought you might like to eat in a café in theBarri Gotic . It is interestingly gothic in that area and very nearLa Rambla .”

  “Oh,La Rambla is on my ‘must see’ list.”

  “As it should be. To walkLa Rambla is to experience a slice of the true heart of Barcelona.”

  “I also hoped to see some examples of Antoni Gaudi’s work.”

  “The architect’s designs are worth seeing to be sure. Tomorrow, I will take you toParc Guell . The snake bench is something to behold, but I think today we will concentrate on our Gothic city center andLa Rambla . Tonight, I would like to take you to the casino.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” She loved the evidence that he took seriously his self-appointed job of showing her Barcelona.

  “I have taken tomorrow to dedicate to you completely as well as the weekend, but Monday I will have to work.”

  “Wow.”

  “Wow?”

  “That you would clear your schedule for me.”

  “Our time together is limited. I wish to make the most of it.”

  Warmth spread through her. “Now is probably a good time to tell you that I canceled a couple of minor shoots so I could extend my stay in Barcelona by a week.”

  Pleased satisfaction flared in his gray gaze. “I am very glad.”

  “Me, too.” He’d rearranged his schedule for her and that made her feel pretty good about having done the same for him.

  The café he chose for their lunch had opted to decorate with the Gothic theme so strong in the architecture ofBarri Gotic . The chairs of intricately carved dark wood with red velvet cushions could have been created in the Middle Ages. Their table had small lions heads carved into the four corners of the heavy mahogany stained top and gargoyles on the legs. But the menu was very modern.

  She knew better than to dwell on the delicacies offered, though. She ordered a dry salad with a grilled chicken breast and her favorite mineral fizzy water to drink.

  Miguel’s brows rose over her order. “You do not want to try the local food?”

  “I can’t afford to.”

  “In what way?”

  “I have to maintain a strict caloric intake to keep my figure in top condition.”

  “Surely you can indulge once in a while.”

  “I do, but I choose those indulgences carefully.” She smiled. “I learned a long time ago to enjoy things besides the food itself when eating out. For me, it is fuel for my body, to be measured and taken in at the appropriate time.”

  “Whatdo you enjoy?”

  “The ambiance of this restaurant. I’m indulging in it, reveling actually. I love the colors and textures. They are a feast for my eyes. My stomach doesn’t need one. The company. I am happy to be here with you. Watching other people is usually a favorite pastime of mine.”

  “I’ve known many women who watched their figure, but none who saw food in quite the light you do. They always seem to regret what they think they cannot have.”

  She’d noticed that, too, early on in her career and refused to fall into the trap where food or the desire for it became a controlling element in her life. “That would be a waste of time. I’m much better off adjusting to a limited diet and removing the possible damage to my career a fascination with food could do to it.”

  He looked at her with something like awe. “You really are stubborn.”

  “I told you I was.”

  Reaching across the table, he caressed the back of her hand. “You’re also very smart.”

  “Thank you.”

  There was nothing overtly sensual about the way he was touching her and yet she felt it on a very intimate level. He might as well have been touching her breast for the way her body responded to the small caress.

  She had never considered herself a sexual being. In fact, if someone had asked her before meeting Miguel, she would have told them she thought she was probably frigid. She’d never wanted the things she wanted with him, never responded to blatantly sensual touches the way she reacted to the most innocent caress from his hands.

  He cupped her hand, playing his middle finger over her palm while his thumb brushed back and forth over the top of her hand. “Your skin is so soft.”

  “Is that why you touch me so much?” she asked, trying very hard to control her breathing. This touch didn’t feel nearly so innocent. In fact, she felt the caress against her palm all the way to her feminine core.

  “It is part of it.”

  “What is the other part?”

  “I want you. I will not have you…yet…so I assuage the ache—partially—with touch.”

  “You ache?”

  “Do you not?”

  “But you didn’t push last night and today…um…today, you came prepared to take me directly to lunch.” Was her palm an erogenous zone?

  It had to be, but why had no one ever warned her before. During her “sex talks” with her mother, the issues of palms had never come up. Tongues yes, thighs…and of course breasts, but never palms.

  That insidious touch continued while his eyes caressed her with equal intimacy. “As I’m sure you know, anticipation heightens the pleasure so that the wait is more than worth the eventual outcome.”

  “You’re putting off making love on purpose?” she asked, breathless and a little confused.

  She’d heard allusions to that sort of thing, but hadn’t expected to employ the technique herself. She wasn’t the most patient of people and would not have pegged him for being altogether patient, ei
ther.

  “Aren’t you?”

  Wow. He thought she was playing sophisticated sex games? If only he knew. “I want to get to know you better. Really, that’s all.”

  “I respect that, but I do not deny the extra benefits of the wait, either.”

  “I…”

  “You are lost for words.” He smiled. “That is charming.”

  “It is?” She thought it was rather gauche.

  “Yes, to have you respond so innocently when you are in truth very sophisticated is intensely alluring, but I suspect you are aware of that.”

  “Um…no…not really. I’m not sure I am as sophisticated as you seem to think I am.”

  “The world you work in does not leave innocence intact very long.”

  “Not on an intellectual level, no it doesn’t, but there are other kinds of innocence. I am not very experienced personally…with men.” She didn’t really like admitting it, but felt compelled to do so.

  He looked at her for a long moment. “You know, I believe you. I find that more attractive than I would have suspected.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that surprises you?”

  “I do not make it a habit to date women who are inexperienced. There are too many opportunities for misunderstandings in such a liaison.”

  “But we are different.” He’d said so yesterday.

  “Yes, many things about our association are different for me.”

  The pleasure arcing from her palm up her arm and down to the center of her femininity was making it hard for her to think. “You’re lethal, you know that, don’t you?”

  “I would be very disappointed if you saw me any other way.”

  She husked out a laugh, but what she really wanted to do was call the car back and attack his body in the back seat. It was a very good thing they’d left the hotel. A very good thing. Pure self-preservation had her jerking her hand from his and putting it out of harm’s way in her lap. Ortemptation’s way, at any rate.

  The rest of lunch was a study in self-control for her. She had to try to hold up her end of the conversation while watching the way Miguel’s lips moved as he spoke sparked fantasies that made her throb in embarrassing places. Usually a people watcher, she found her attention so focused on Miguel, she could not have said if there were any other patrons in the restaurant, or not. Though she was sure there had to be.

  She kept forgetting to eat, more interested in observing the play of soft light over his aquiline features. Especially entrancing was the way his body moved when he talked with his hands or laughed.

  “If you do not stop looking at me like that, we are not going to make it to theLa Rambla this afternoon.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SHEcould feel herself blushing, but she gave up on the embarrassment because she simply couldn’t help herself. “Are the shops open during siesta?”

  “Not all, but siesta does not start for more than an hour.”

  “Oh.” She looked down to where one of his hands rested on the table. Would he react to her caressing his palm as intensely as she had done to his touch? Her fingers itched to find out.

  He abruptly stood. “Let us go.”

  She let him lead her out of the café, his arm around her waist to guide her. The hold pulled her body close to his and she didn’t know about his peace of mind, but it wasn’t doing a thing for hers. Or her ability to control the desires raging through her.

  The noise and sights of theLa Rambla offered a small measure of relief. Businessmen dressed much like Miguel walked amidst elderly women, teenagers and obvious tourists. It was a people Mecca, showing the cross section of Barcelona that Miguel had promised. The bird market was filled with a cacophony of sounds; birds chittering, twirping, singing and cawing while sellers hawked their wares and customers bargained for the best prices.

  The human sculptures fascinated her and she insisted on stopping at each one they passed to toss a coin, just to see the person who had done such an incredible job of holding their statuesque pose move to a new one.

  Miguel bought her flowers at one of the stalls and she clutched them with pleasure while they wandered down the long pedestrian way. When shops started closing, he took her to a café for a drink and then on a short walking tour of where they’d started earlier in theBarri Gotic . It was very quiet compared toLa Rambla, but she didn’t know if that was because it was the hour of siesta or because it was always that way in central downtown.

  “It’s deliciously shady down here,” she mused,almost used to the way it felt to have his arm around her waist.

  “The buildings are close. There are many areas that have not seen direct sunlight in more than a century, sometimes far longer.”

  “Wow. I remember being in New York City once and walking down a narrow road between skyscrapers. I wondered then if the sun ever shone on the pavement.”

  “Most likely not,pequeña, but when it is hot, that is not a bad thing.”

  “No.” She inhaled the air that seemed to carry the fragrance of the age of the city’s inner center. “It’s relaxing here.”

  “I think so, though I do not come here often enough. My offices are in a newer part of the city.”

  She understood that. “I think it’s easy to take the beauty of our home for granted. I can go weeks without visiting the beach.”

  “Do you live near it?”

  “Yes, it’s less than a fifteen-minute walk from our house.”

  “Our?”

  “I live with my mother. I’ve never seen any reason to move out and she’s happy to have me there. My career takes me away so often, it just seemed a waste to get my own apartment.”

  “Perhaps this explains your lack of experience with men as well.”

  “I suppose so.” She didn’t see any need to reiterate the fact that she’d never felt this way with another man. If she had, she didn’t think living with her mother would have stopped her from having a relationship. The truth was, Helen Taylor had suggested more than once that Amber needed to date more.

  “Shall we go back to my apartment for the rest of siesta?”

  Amber did not think they would be leaving it again that night if they did, but she realized she was ready for that. More than ready. At least physically and right now, her desires were waging an effective battle with her common sense.

  “If that is what you want.”

  He turned her to face him and met her eyes in the shadowy light of the narrow cobbled street. “The question,mi cielo, is whether that is what you want. I can return you to your hotel suite and come for you later to take you to the casino.”

  Part of her wished he would kiss her and take the decision out of her hands, but a much bigger part really liked the way he refused to push her. If all he wanted from her was sex, wouldn’t he be a lot more insistent on getting it? There was no doubt that he wanted her, not with the hungry way his eyes devoured her or the way he was constantly touching her.

  She licked her lips, a nervous habit she’d thought she’d broken as a teenager. It dried her lips and messed up lip makeup for a shoot. “I want to do both…go back to the safety of my hotel for a while and join you at your penthouse for the siesta…and more.”

  He cupped her face, his thumbs brushing along the underside of her jaw. “The question is, which do you want more?”

  “Shouldn’t it be which one is better for me?”

  “There is no danger in my arms, Amber.”

  There was…to her heart. But that danger was in the air around her since she’d met him, too. Not merely in his arms.

  “Kiss me.”

  “If I do, you know you will end up at my apartment.”

  “I know,” she whispered, her head dipping so their eye contact broke.

  He tipped her head back, refusing to allow her to look away. “Knowing that, you want my kiss?”

  She nodded, incapable of explaining. But it felt right, to seal this thing between them here in the oldest part o
f the city that beat with the heart of the Catalan, with his heart. It might be reckless. It might even be foolish. But if she did not take this chance, she would always wish she had, of that she was absolutely sure.

  His mouth came down, his lips brushing hers gently. Her eyes slid shut and her senses diminished to the hushed sounds of siesta in the city’s center and the fragrance of warm summer air mixed with old buildings. Then finally to the feel of his mouth on hers, exploring and tantalizing with each tiny movement.

  She had expected a sensual onslaught, but what she got was a promise. The first bud of spring, the kiss of the summer sun on the pale skin of winter, a scarlet leaf floating to the ground to be the first in the splendorous autumn carpet, the first snowflake to fall on Christmas Eve.

  She did not know how long the kiss lasted, but when he lifted his head, she felt claimed with a promise of pleasure that was so much more than sexual gratification.

  She swayed against him and he tucked her into his side while flipping out his cell phone to call his chauffeur.

  Her cell phone rang when they were in the car on the way to his penthouse. She dug it from her bag and noted the caller. “It’s my mom, I need to take it.”

  Miguel nodded. “By all means.”

  He had made no move to kiss her again once they had gotten in the car, but sensual energy shimmered between them, the tension so thick it should have made the air hazy.

  Hoping none of that would show in her voice, Amber flipped the phone open and put it to her ear. “Hello, Mom.”

  “Hey, sweetie…what’s this about meeting the man of your dreams?”

  She was glad her mom’s voice wasn’t the kind to carry, but she turned a little away from Miguel anyway, switching the phone to her ear farthest from him. “I’ll tell you all about it later, Mom.”

  She saw from the corner of his eye that he pulled his phone out and had started speaking quietly into it.

  “Are you with him now?” Her mom was quick.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s wonderful, honey. What’s his name?”

  “Miguel.”

  “Miguel…” Her mom paused for a count of two. “Do you mean Miguel Menendez?” she asked, sounding shocked and maybe a little worried.