Ramon’s eyes narrowed on her flushed face. ‘I have read the reports on your recent assignments and I am impressed by your work,’ he said coolly. ‘I also noted on your CV that you studied Spanish and speak it fluently, which would be additionally useful,’ he added, the gleam in his eyes telling her that he had been aware before he had read her CV that she could speak his language.
He turned back to Alistair Gambrill before she could comment. ‘I understand that PGH promote a service whereby Lauren could be seconded to Velaquez Conglomerates to give personalised in-house legal advice until the project is completed?’
Alistair nodded enthusiastically. ‘That is certainly possible. The in-house legal practice offered by our company is fairly unique, and enables companies such as your own to access specialist lawyers without having to employ their own full-time solicitor.’
‘So in effect Lauren would be working directly for Velaquez Conglomerates until the project is finalised?’ Ramon queried. ‘Can I take it you would be happy with that, Lauren?’
This time there was no mistaking the predatory nature of his smile; the hard gleam in his eyes told her that he could read her mind.
Apprehension churned in the pit of her stomach.
No
, she damned well would
not
be happy, she wanted to cry. How could she work for him, spend hours every day with him, and manage to keep Matty a secret from him? Once again she felt a desperate urge to flee, to run out of the office and keep on running. But if she did that she was highly likely to lose her job, her only means of supporting her son, and so she remained in her chair and knotted her trembling fingers together as Alistair spoke.
‘I have no doubt that you will find Lauren a dedicated and hard-working employee who will do her utmost to please you.’
‘That’s good to hear.’ The wolfish smile widened, and despite her tension the wicked glint in Ramon’s eyes sent heat coursing through Lauren’s veins.
Utterly dismayed by her reaction to him, she did not trust herself to speak. But inside she felt sick with panic. She would have to speak to Alistair privately later, she decided frantically. But what excuse could she give for not wanting to work for an influential new client? For now at least she would have to go along with it.
‘I will certainly do my best to ensure that all transactions are completed as smoothly and quickly as possible,’ she said coolly.
‘Good.’ Ramon smiled, showing his white teeth, and Lauren felt a sharp pain, as if she had been kicked in the ribs. Missing him had become a part of her life, a persistent ache in her chest, and she quickly compressed her lips to disguise their betraying quiver.
‘I hope to open at least one wine bar this summer,’ he continued, his eyes fixed intently on her, ‘which is why I want you to give your exclusive attention to this project. We will need to liaise on a daily basis, and an office will be made available for you at my London headquarters.’
‘Oh, but…’ This time she refused to keep silent, despite Alistair’s warning frown. ‘I think it would be better if I remained here at PGH. I’m responsible for several other accounts—’
‘I will personally allocate other members of staff to take over those accounts,’ Alistair interrupted smoothly.
Lauren guessed he was very eager for her to work directly for Ramon. The in-house legal practice might save clients the expense of employing their own full-time corporate lawyer, but PGH charged high fees for the service.
‘I’ll have a contract drawn up immediately, and Lauren is at your disposal as of now.’
‘Excellent.’
The satisfaction in Ramon’s voice sparked Lauren’s temper. She did not want to work for Velaquez Conglomerates, and she certainly did not want to work for Ramon. But to object would be tantamount to suicide for her career. This was a fantastic opportunity for her to prove her suitability for the upcoming promotion at PGH, and a higher position would mean a rise in her salary, which would help with Matty’s exorbitant nursery fees. But she couldn’t shake off the idea that Ramon had deliberately engineered the situation. The million dollar question was
why
? What did he want from her?
She was agonisingly aware of him sitting beside her. The spicy tang of his cologne assailed her senses, so achingly familiar that she felt a sudden constriction in her throat. Her eyes were drawn to his face, searching for an answer that was not forthcoming, and instead she glimpsed a ruthless determination in his gaze that sent a prickle of unease down her spine. The moment passed, and he gave her a bland smile as he reached into his briefcase and retrieved a folder.
‘These are the details of the properties I am interested in. Perhaps you could spend some time looking through them this morning, and we can discuss your opinion on their potential suitability over lunch?’
He was too much! ‘How about I read through the notes and email you a résumé of my initial thoughts?’ she countered, oh-so-politely. ‘I don’t want to interrupt your schedule.’
Sherry-brown eyes glinted gold with amusement, but the subtle nuance in his tone brooked no argument. ‘One o’clock, the Vine, Covent Garden. I expect you to be there, Lauren.’ He stood up and extended his hand towards Alistair Gambrill. ‘Thank you for your time, Alistair.’
‘It’s a pleasure to do business with you, Ramon.’
‘The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.’ There was pure devilment in Ramon’s smile as he paused in the doorway and glanced back at Lauren, satisfied to see that she looked flustered and pink-cheeked—and infinitely kissable. But the expression in her eyes made him frown. What had he ever done to cause her to look at him as if she feared him?
She had been on edge from the moment she had walked into Alistair Gambrill’s office, he brooded. But perhaps she was simply surprised to see him again after their affair had ended so explosively eighteen months ago. He recalled the ridiculous argument they had had because she had objected when he had referred to her as his mistress. Notoriously hot-tempered, he had reacted to her threat to walk out by telling her that if she did, he would not have her back.
Later, when his temper had cooled and he’d had time to think rationally, he had acknowledged that he had spoken in anger, and he had wondered if Lauren had too. But by then he had returned to Spain, after a frantic call from his mother telling him that his father’s health had deteriorated and that the Duque was gravely ill. Sorting out his personal life had come way down the list of his priorities as he had taken charge of his family.
It was not only business that had brought him back to England, Ramon admitted to himself. He had come because he hoped to persuade Lauren to resume their affair. She was a fiercely independent career woman, and had informed him that she did not want to be his mistress, but he was confident he would be able to convince her that they should be lovers and enjoy an affair for as long as either of them wanted it to last.
He was the Duque de Velaquez, and had a duty to choose a bride from the ranks of Spanish nobility. But he was in no hurry to marry—certainly not until he had got Lauren out of his system, he acknowledged self-derisively. But first he needed to discover why she seemed so wary of him.
CHAPTER TWO
L
AUREN
arrived at the restaurant at two minutes to one. From his vantage point seated at the bar Ramon watched her slip out of her coat and hand it to the waiter, who had sprung to attendance the moment she walked through the door. Her smile was a killer, he mused. He had never met anyone who could resist its warmth.
Her hair was still swept up into an elegant chignon, and her designer suit and heels were the uniform of a busy professional—a corporate lawyer with a high-flying career. But he remembered the other Lauren. The passionate and sensual woman who had responded to his lovemaking with such sweet eagerness. As she walked towards him Ramon fought the fierce urge to tug the pins from her hair, bury his fingers in the silky mass and hold her captive while he claimed her mouth until she melted against him.
‘Ramon.’
He stood up as she reached his side, faintly irritated that while the waiter had received a smile he did not. ‘As punctual as ever,’ he murmured.
‘It would be extremely unprofessional to be late for an appointment with a client,’ she replied crisply.
A subtle reminder that
business
was the only reason she had agreed to have lunch with him? Ramon felt a spurt of amusement at Lauren’s determination to put him in his place, but he also acknowledged a strong desire to shake her equilibrium.
‘Our table is ready.’ He paused, and then added softly, ‘It’s a pity it’s not summer; we could have eaten outside as we used to. Remember, Lauren?’
Her eyes flew to his face. Of course she remembered, Lauren thought shakily. The memories of the good times they had shared during their affair were ingrained in her mind for ever. The Vine had been one of their favourite haunts, and they had frequently dined here before returning to Ramon’s penthouse apartment to sate another kind of hunger. The sex had been urgent, intense, and unbelievably erotic—a sensual nirvana that was beyond anything she could ever have imagined.
But it had just been sex. Without strings or the expectation of commitment or emotion. At least it had for Ramon, she thought bleakly. For her it had become something infinitely precious, and the realisation that she had fallen in love with him was one reason why she had left him.
A waiter led them to their table. ‘What would you like to drink?’ Ramon enquired when they were seated.
‘Iced water, please. And I’d like the Dover sole with new potatoes.’ Forgoing a starter and dessert meant that, with luck, lunch should last no longer than thirty minutes.
The waiter departed with their order and she glared across the table. ‘What are you playing at, Ramon?’
Dark brows rose slightly at the sharpness of her tone, but he did not immediately reply, instead surveying her flushed face with a speculative gleam in his eyes that lit a flame to her temper.
‘Why did you invite me here?’ she demanded.
‘You know why. I wish to discuss a business venture with my new legal advisor.’ He paused, and then added laconically, ‘I admit I chose the Vine for purely nostalgic reasons. We shared some good times here.’
‘I have no desire to take a trip down memory lane,’ she said shortly. ‘We’ve both moved on.’
Ramon stared at Lauren speculatively, aware of the surreptitious glances she had been darting at him. The chemistry was still there, simmering beneath the surface of her cool façade, but the faint tremor of her mouth warned of her determination to fight her awareness of him. For now it was enough to know that he bothered her. He controlled the urge to walk around the table and kiss her into submission, and instead turned his attention to the approaching waiter.
Lauren gave a sigh of relief when their meals were served. The fish was delicious, but she was so acutely conscious of Ramon that her appetite deserted her after a few forkfuls.
‘I ran a few preliminary checks on the properties you are interested in, and I can see possible problems with two of them,’ she explained, taking the folder of notes from her briefcase. ‘The property in Chancery Lane is a Grade II listed building, which means it is of historic interest and you would need to apply for special building consent to do any kind of refurbishment. The property in Jermyn Street has a short lease. I’ve spoken to the company who own the freehold and have learned that they would consider extending the lease. But obviously that would have to be negotiated.’
Ramon speared his last forkful of steak and savoured it before replying. ‘Your efficiency is commendable.’
‘That, presumably, is the reason you hired me.’
‘One of the reasons.’ He met her glare with a bland smile. He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed their verbal sparring, and their conversations about everything from the arts to topical news items.
‘Alistair Gambrill thinks highly of you,’ he commented. ‘Eighteen months ago I remember you had only recently moved to PGH from another law firm, and now I understand that you are being considered for promotion. You must have worked hard to make such a positive impression on the senior partners.’
Lauren threw him a sharp glance, wondering if he was being sarcastic. Her dedication to her job and her refusal to cut down on the long hours she worked had been the only source of friction between them during their affair. Ramon had made it clear that he expected her to be at his beck and call, while she had been infuriated by his chauvinistic attitude and had not held back from telling him so.
He had never understood that her single-minded focus on her career stemmed from an almost obsessive need for financial independence, and a determination never to be reliant on anyone—as her mother had been on her father. But how could he have understood, when she had never told him about her parents’ bitter divorce, or that her father had abandoned his family for his mistress and left his wife and daughter virtually penniless?
‘The move to PGH has certainly given me an opportunity to further my career,’ she agreed. ‘And I work hard at my job.’
He could not know that she felt pressurised to work harder than her contemporaries. Discovering that she was pregnant a month after she had started at PGH had meant that her career had no longer been a choice but a necessity as she faced life as a single mother.
Anxious to prove her worth to Alistair Gambrill and the other senior partners, she had continued to work long hours. Fortunately Mateo’s birth had been straightforward, and three months later she had returned to work full-time, afraid that lengthy maternity leave would be detrimental to her chances of promotion in the male-dominated, highly competitive world of corporate law.
She took a sip of water, fiddled restlessly with her napkin, and then said abruptly, ‘I’m sorry about your father.’ Ramon had always been reluctant to discuss his personal life, and she knew little about his family, but Esteban Velaquez had been a prominent politician in the Spanish government and his death had been reported worldwide.
She did not expect him to comment, and was surprised when, after a long pause, he admitted, ‘It was a shock. Cancer had been diagnosed six months earlier, but after surgery his prognosis was good. Unfortunately the disease returned in a more aggressive form and there was nothing more the doctors could do. My mother has taken his death badly,’ he continued heavily. ‘My parents had been married for over forty years and she is heartbroken.’
His mother’s grief had been as much a shock as the loss of his father, Ramon conceded silently. He had assumed that his parents’ marriage had been a union between two influential Spanish families—an arrangement that had developed into a contented relationship based on mutual friendship and respect. But after witnessing Marisol Velaquez’s raw despair as she wept for her husband he had realised that it had been love that had bound his parents together for almost half a century—the kind of profound and everlasting love that poets wrote sonnets about and which he had cynically doubted existed in real life.
Lauren stared at Ramon’s handsome face and felt her stomach dip. He was impossibly gorgeous, but she was not the first woman to be blown away by his sexy good-looks and she certainly would not be the last. Since Esteban Velaquez’s death, the press had frequently reported on the playboy lifestyle of his only son and heir. Ramon had been photographed with a number of women—in particular a well-known catwalk model, Pilar Fernandez, who was the daughter of a Spanish aristocrat and whose impeccable pedigree was reflected in her exquisite features. The pictures of Ramon and beautiful Pilar had reinforced Lauren’s belief that he would not be interested in his illegitimate child.
‘I’m sorry for your mother,’ she murmured. ‘Perhaps the prospect of you marrying soon will help to alleviate her grief a little? There is speculation in the media that you are about to announce your engagement to Pilar Fernandez,’ she added, when his dark brows lifted in silent query.
‘I’ve no doubt my mother would be delighted at the news of my impending nuptials,’ he drawled. ‘Since my father’s death she seems to have made it her life’s mission to find me a bride. But the speculation is unfounded. Certain elements of the Spanish press are fascinated with my private life, but Pilar is simply a friend. Our families have known one another for many years. I’m afraid that even for my dear
madre’s
sake I am in no hurry to find a
duquesa
.’
His eyes rested deliberately on Lauren’s mouth, and the sensual gleam in his eyes sent a quiver of reaction down her spine. His message was loud and clear. Some time in the future he would select a member of the Spanish aristocracy to be his wife and provide him with blue-blooded heirs to continue the Velaquez name, but until then he would enjoy his freedom and satisfy his high sex-drive with numerous mistresses.
But she had been there, done that, Lauren brooded.
Ramon had gone to some lengths to arrange for her to work for him. She recognised the hunger in his eyes, and could feel the undercurrent of sexual tension that had simmered between them since she had walked into the restaurant. It was inconceivable that he wanted to re-ignite their affair when he had insisted eighteen months ago that if she left him he would never take her back. But if that
was
his intention—dear heaven, she thought shakily—she could only pray she had the strength to resist him.
Tension tightened its grip on her. She could not allow him to find out about Matty. He would surely not deem her son a suitable heir for a family who could trace its ancestors back to the eleventh century, when Rioja had been fought over by the ancient kingdoms of Castile and Navarre. Matty was her baby, her responsibility, and it would be better for everyone if he remained her secret.
The arrival of the waiter dragged her mind back to her surroundings. ‘Would you like dessert?’ Ramon asked.
‘No, thanks.’ Her hands were trembling as she shoved the notes on the properties back in her briefcase. ‘I should go. I need to get back to the office to hand over the accounts on my file to other lawyers in the department.’
‘I’m sure they can wait another fifteen minutes,’ he said dryly before he turned to the waiter, ‘An Americano, please, and a jasmine tea.’
Did it mean anything that he remembered she always liked to end a meal with cup of herbal tea? All it proved was that he had a good memory, Lauren told herself firmly.
The waiter returned with their beverages and she sipped her fragrant tea.
‘So, what has been happening in your life since we split up?’ Ramon queried in a casual tone, the intent expression in his eyes shadowed by his thick lashes. ‘Is there anyone special in your life, Lauren?’
Only her son, who filled her life so completely that there was no room for anyone else—but she could not tell Ramon that, and gave a noncommittal shrug. ‘I don’t think that’s any of your business.’
So there
was
some guy. It was hardly surprising, Ramon conceded. Lauren was a beautiful, sensual woman, and she would not have spent the past eighteen months alone. What
was
surprising was how much he disliked the idea of her with a lover.
He leaned back in his chair and studied her broodingly. ‘I feel sorry for this guy, whoever he is.’
‘What?’ It took a few seconds for it to sink in that Ramon believed she was dating someone. Lauren frowned. ‘Why?’
‘Because he doesn’t satisfy you.’
‘Oh? You know that, do you?’ She had forgotten how infuriatingly arrogant he could be.
‘I can tell.’ He moved so suddenly that she had no time to react as he leaned across the table and captured her chin in his hand. ‘If lover-boy satisfied you, your eyes wouldn’t darken to the colour of woodsmoke when you look at me.’ He ran his thumb pad over her lower lip and felt its betraying tremble. ‘And your mouth wouldn’t soften in readiness for my kiss.’
‘It doesn’t… I don’t…’ Shaking with anger, and another emotion she refused to define, Lauren jumped to her feet so abruptly that her chair toppled over and hit the floor with a clatter that drew curious glances from around the restaurant.
The noise brought her to her senses and she snatched a breath, willing herself to act with calm dignity even though her heart was pounding.
‘I don’t know what game you’re playing,’ she said coldly, ‘but perhaps I should remind you that I ended our affair a year and a half ago. You might have employed me to work for you, but I expect our relationship to be conducted on a purely professional level, with no references to my private life and no…’
‘Kissing?’ Ramon suggested dulcetly.
His teasing smile tugged on her heart. She had forgotten his wicked sense of humour, and how often he had made her laugh, and for some inexplicable reason tears stung her eyes.
‘You are insufferable,’ she hissed, suddenly aware that the waiter, who had hurried over to pick up her chair, was clearly intrigued by their conversation. ‘I’m going back to work.’
‘I’ll take you,’ Ramon handed the waiter his credit card to settle the bill. ‘After I’ve shown you where you’ll be based while you are working for me.’
Lauren knew enough about cars to recognise that Ramon’s sleek silver Porsche was a top-of-the-range model. As she slid into the passenger seat she felt a little pang of regret for her beloved red sports car, which she had traded in for a family saloon big enough to fit in Mateo’s baby seat and the mountain of other paraphernalia required for one small child.