The Valquez Seduction

He pushed back a little harder. The uptake of tension triggered something deep and low in her pelvis. She felt it between her thighs, a tight ache that was part pulse, part contraction. A frisson shimmied down her spine as his fingers wrapped around hers, tethering her to him. His hands were not smooth but slightly calloused, which was strangely arousing. His thumb found her pulse and measured its frantic pace. ‘I have plenty of money.’

Daisy gave him an imperious look to disguise the catastrophic effect he was having on her senses. ‘Is that supposed to impress me?’

A lazy smile teased up the corners of his mouth. ‘Nothing else has so far.’

She raised one of her eyebrows. ‘You mean I wasn’t left breathless and gasping by your…erm, attentions last night?’

He gave a deep chuckle, which combined with that toe-curling stroking along the thumpety-thump-thump-thump of her pulse, made her senses careen off into another tailspin. ‘Your honour was safe with me, dulzura. I didn’t lay a finger on you.’

Daisy pulled out of his hold, blinking at him in surprise. ‘Y-You didn’t?’

He shook his head with mock gravitas.

‘Why not?’

‘I prefer my women sober.’

She glared at him again, stamping her foot for good measure. ‘I was not drunk! I’ve never been intoxicated in my life.’

‘You were legless last night. Just as well I came along when I did. You were about to get down and dirty with the man in Suite 1524.’

Daisy stopped glaring at him. Another fragmented memory filtered through the haze of her brain. The guy from Ealing pressuring her to have a drink. Refusing his offer but finding he had bought her one while she had gone to the restroom. He insisting he keep her company while she drank it. She had suffered his company because she’d become so irritated with seeing Luiz Valquez working the room like Casanova with catnip. Surely a single vodka and orange wouldn’t have caused her to lose all sense of control? ‘How do you know I was going to…erm, become intimate with that guy? I might’ve just been going to his room to—’

‘Look at his etchings?’

She gave him a look. ‘Not all men have one-track minds, you know.’

He moved over every inch of her sheet-wrapped body with the smouldering heat of his gaze. ‘They do when someone looks as gorgeous as you.’

Daisy knew it was a throwaway line but she couldn’t help feeling a little thrill all the same. It wasn’t that she wasn’t used to compliments. She knew she wasn’t model-thin or billboard-beautiful but she was pretty enough in a girl-next-door sort of way. But hearing him say it made her feel all fluttery and feminine. It made her want to flirt with him, which was rather surprising as she never flirted.

She shuffled over to where her clothes were folded in a neat pile on a coffee table next to one of the plush sofas. ‘I have to get moving. The girls will be waiting for me.’ She scooped up her clothes with her free hand, turning back to glance at him. ‘Do you mind if I use your bathroom to get changed?’

His eyes had that laughing glint in them again. ‘Be my guest.’

Daisy sniffed the air in the luxuriously appointed bathroom for any trace of sickness. To her very great relief it smelt of citrus with a hint of lemongrass and ginger. She unwrapped herself from the sheet and quickly donned her clothes, her fingers tracing over the lace of her bra and knickers as she thought of Luiz handling her intimates, even to pass them over to the laundry staff. Had he put her to bed? Had he carried her or had she walked/stumbled/crawled on her own? Had he tucked her in? A shiver passed over her flesh at the thought of his hands on her naked body. Damn it. Why couldn’t she remember the most exciting moment of her life? If he hadn’t acted inappropriately given the way he said she had, then why not? Wasn’t he supposed to be a bad boy or something?

Or did he have some scruples after all?

When Daisy came out of the bathroom he was standing with his back to her, looking down at the Vegas strip in all its crazy madness. ‘Are you decent?’ he asked.

‘Hardy-ha-ha.’

He grinned as he turned around to face her. ‘Don’t you like your men with a sense of humour?’

Her men? What a laugh. If only he knew the only men in her life were her father, her bodyguard and Robert, the elderly gardener at Wyndham Heath.

Daisy was afraid she was starting to like Luiz Valquez a little too much. His uncharacteristic chivalry was potently attractive. If what he had said was true about her having been in danger of being taken advantage of by the Ealing guy, she owed him a huge debt of gratitude, not censure. Anything could have happened to her last night but he had stepped in and made sure she was safe, possibly putting himself at risk in the process. She’d had him pegged as a hard partying bad boy and yet he had acted with honour and propriety.

Had the world got it wrong about him? Or did he cash in on his racy reputation because it fitted the image of the sporting superstar? Who was he behind that mask of sophisticated playboy? If she had offered herself to him so shamelessly and he’d refused, then he must surely have far more to him than met the eye.

She held her purse in front of her stomach with both hands, suddenly feeling terribly gauche…well, even more so than usual. ‘About last night…’ she began.

‘Don’t mention it. I won’t.’ Another glinting look. ‘It can be our little secret.’

She gnawed her lip as she thought of all the thousands of followers he would have on Twitter or other social media. He could make an absolute fool of her with a couple of hash tags. What if he’d taken pictures of her without her knowing? Her stomach dropped. The stripper routine. Oh, God. What if he’d recorded it? Uploaded it? Sent it out to cyberspace. What if he blackmailed her? What if—?

He reached into his trouser pocket and handed her his phone. ‘You can check it if you like.’

Daisy stared at his phone as if it were a grenade with the pin pulled out. ‘I really don’t think that’s—’

‘Here, I’ll show you.’ He came and stood shoulder to shoulder with her, accessing the camera roll on his phone. ‘See?’

She peered at the images he was scrolling through, conscious of the way his light lemony and citrus cologne sharpened the air. She could feel the slightest brush of his hair-roughened arm against her smoother one. Her traitorous mind began assembling images of them in bed together, limbs entangled, lips locked, tongues mating. ‘Good gracious, is that a dress that girl is almost wearing?’

He gave one of his deep rumbly chuckles that sent her senses spinning all over again. ‘For a simple scrap of fabric it was damn hard to get off.’

Daisy gave him a wry glance. ‘What? She didn’t offer to help you?’

‘Can’t remember.’ He carried on thumbing through another few photos.

‘How long ago was it—erm, she?’

‘Ages ago.’ He flashed her a sudden grin. ‘A couple of weeks at least.’

Daisy rolled her eyes and then pointed to a picture on the photo stream of a slightly older woman standing next to Luiz at what looked like a cocktail party. ‘Who’s that?’

‘My mother, Eloise.’

Something about the way he said his mother’s name alerted her to an undercurrent of tension. ‘She looks very beautiful. Very glamorous. Like a movie star.’

His lips moved in the semblance of a smile. ‘Yes, she likes the spotlight, that’s for sure.’

‘You’re not close?’

He looked at her briefly, his eyes meshing with hers in a moment of silence. There was a vacancy in the back of his gaze, as if he was looking in the past for something but was having trouble finding it. ‘We were once, or so I thought.’

‘When was that?’

He clicked off the screen of his phone and slipped it back into his pocket in a subject closed manner. ‘What do you normally eat for breakfast?’

‘Well…ideally, I would eat an egg white omelette and drink a herbal tea.’

His brow lifted. ‘Ideally?’

She gave him a self-deprecating look. ‘I’m rubbish at sticking to diets. I last about three days and then I cave in and eat everything that isn’t nailed down.’

‘How does bacon and eggs, pancakes, maple syrup and a side of hash browns sound?’

Daisy swayed on her feet as if about to go into a swoon. ‘Like heaven. I’m so hungry I could eat a horse and chase the rider.’

He stood looking down at her with a gleaming look in his dark as pitch eyes. ‘I’ve heard there are some riders out there who like to do all the chasing.’

Daisy held his look with an aplomb she had no idea she possessed. Who knew flirting could be so much fun? ‘Then perhaps those riders should make sure they never get caught.’

He picked up a lock of her hair and twirled it a couple of times around his tanned finger. She felt the gentle tug as one by one the roots of her hair lifted off her scalp. His eyes slipped to her mouth, lingered there as if he was weighing up whether to kiss her or not.

Do it. Do it. Do it, a voice chanted in her head.

His head came down in a slow motion action, blocking out the light shining in from the window. He stopped a mere millimetre away from her mouth, close enough for their breaths to mingle. His smelt of toothpaste. God alone knew what hers smelt like after a night on the tiles. Bathroom ones included. Ack!

Daisy put a fingertip against his lips, her voice coming out as little more than a husky whisper. ‘Wait.’

He nibbled her fingertip with his lips, making her legs unlock at the knees. ‘What for?’

‘I haven’t even told you my name.’

He turned her hand over and kissed a tickling pathway from her wrist to her elbow. ‘So, tell me.’

She shivered as his lips came back down to the sensitive skin on the underside of her wrist. ‘Daisy…Daisy Wyndham.’

He held her wrist to his mouth as his eyes meshed with hers. ‘Nice.’

Daisy had trouble breathing. His eyes were so dark she felt as if she were drowning in their bottomless depths. His stubble-surrounded mouth against her skin was making her belly do somersaults worthy of a Cirque du Soleil performance. She even heard the rasp of his skin as he moved his mouth to the heel of her hand as his tongue made one flicking lick against the ridge of flesh. A flashpoint of heat triggered a tumult of sensation in her core. She hadn’t even realised that part of her hand had an erogenous zone.

The doorbell sounded behind him and he dropped her hand with a regretful smile. ‘Breakfast.’

CHAPTER THREE

FOOD HAD NEVER been further from Daisy’s mind, which was saying something as normally it was always on her mind. Forbidden food. The yummy stuff she secretly craved but rigorously denied herself in fear of losing control. Her father had drummed it into her from early childhood that being in control of one’s mind and body and physical appetites was the mark of a well-disciplined person. In order to win his approval she denied herself anything that was the slightest bit sinful. But the years of self-denial hadn’t made her stronger and more disciplined. If anything, they had made her all the more conflicted and confused about what she wanted and why she wanted it.

She watched with her mouth watering and her stomach rumbling as Luiz opened the door to the hotel attendant, who wheeled in a loaded trolley of silver domed dishes. The delicious aroma almost knocked her off her feet. Crispy bacon, soufflé-soft scrambled eggs, deep-fried hash browns, fluffy buttermilk pancakes, the sweetness of maple syrup—not the cheap imitation but the real stuff—a platter of tropical fruit, coffee and even a bottle of champagne in an ice bucket.

The attendant left with a sizeable tip in his hand, closing the door on his exit.

‘Wow.’

Luiz tossed his wallet on the sofa. ‘Hungry?’

‘I meant the tip.’ Daisy’s eyes were still out on stalks. ‘Did you really give that young man two hundred dollars?’

He shrugged a loose shoulder. ‘I can afford it.’

‘Do you light your cigarettes with a fifty?’

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