At the Spaniard's Pleasure by Jacqueline Baird

Lanzarote.
    Oh, God! Nick!
    Liza twisted around and a dozen unfamiliar aches and pains in places she never knew she had made her groan. What had she done? Suddenly the erotic memories of the night before suddenly overwhelmed every other thought in her head. Had she really made love with Nick on the plane? Just the thought made her temperature rise. Nick was every woman’s fantasy lover. Her whole body blushed as she recalled her own feverish abandonment to the power of his lovemaking, and she no longer felt in the least chilled.
    She pushed the coverlet back down to her waist, and drew in a deep, steadying breath. So they had made love, and she was now a fully paid-up member of the mile-high club. Not something she had ever aspired to, but, being honest, she did not regret it… But it was only a holiday affair, she reminded herself quickly.
    Perhaps not even that; Nick had quite happily accepted her ‘No’ to making love in his mother’s house, and now, with the memory of the passion and the pleasure fresh in her mind, she wondered if she had been too adamant in her refusal to share his room.
    She was a grown woman and perfectly entitled to explore her own sexuality, live for the moment if she wanted to, and, dear heaven, she wanted to, she thought wryly. Therewas no point in denying it, and, reaching her arms above her head, she stretched languorously, relishing the new sensually aware woman Nick had made her.
    â€˜Now, that is a picture worth preserving.’ A deep, husky drawl shattered the silence.
    Liza froze at full stretch, her gaze winging to the tall man entering the room, a tray in his hands… Nick. She studied him with helpless appreciation as he approached the bed, obviously fresh from the shower—his black hair was brushed severely back from his brow and his incredibly attractive face radiated vitality. A white towelling robe covered him from shoulder to knee, but afforded a glimpse of a hair-roughened chest. Her heart lurched at the sight of him.
    â€˜I wish I had a camera,’ Nick murmured, studying her tousled appearance. With her long blonde hair tumbling around her shoulders and her arms above her head, the smooth, creamy lift of her perfect breasts was enough to make him harden. The dusky peaks tightening as he watched didn’t help.
    Suddenly Liza realised she had parted with the towel some time in the night, and she was naked from the waist up, and Nick’s gaze was fixed on a certain part of her anatomy. Making a mad grasp for the coverlet, she pulled it up and tucked it firmly over her breasts, her face flaming.
    What did you say to a man that you had had sex with on a plane? It was not a scenario she was familiar with, and her stomach cramped with nervous tension, but before she could think of a flip reply to fling back he added, ‘You’d make a great centrefold.’
    His words underlined her secret fear; Nick had wanted only one thing from her, and he had got it with remarkable ease. She had no one to blame but herself. She had looked at him, wanted him, and foolishly imagined she could play him at his own game, and indulge in a sophisticated love affair with no strings attached. What had been an incredibleexperience for her, probably ranked as an easy lay for him…
    The knowledge hurt, but also stiffened her shaky resolve. If an experienced woman of the world was what Nick wanted, then that was exactly what she would be. Calling on a lifetime of ingrained good manners, she said, ‘Good morning, Nick.’
    Stopping at the side of the bed, Nick drew his brows together in a brief frown. He was used to a more enthusiastic welcome from the woman in his life. Why Liza was trying to appear cool when the blush in her cheeks declared otherwise, he had no idea. If he hadn’t shared the most incredible sex with her, he would have said she was embarrassed. But that wasn’t possible… He was not the first man she had slept with and he was