Spanish Nights (7 page)

It both perplexed him and pissed him off. Something had snapped when he'd kissed her and the thought of any man ever touching her again had set him on edge. He'd nearly uttered the words, “You belong to me.” Yet he'd managed to reel in his desire and walk away. Tonight however, things might prove different.

Armand stepped out the door and looked to the darkened sky. He decided to take the Ferrari to go pick her up just in case of bad weather. He wondered if she would approve of his choice of car. Women liked fast cars.

He whipped out of the driveway and headed down the street. Within minutes, he arrived at her villa and realized he was impatient to see her again. He knocked, listened for her footsteps and waited for the door to open. Even in a simple pair of jeans and top, she stole his breath. She'd left her dark hair loose around her shoulders. Damn, if he didn't want to slide his fingers through it, fist it in his hand, pull her head back and kiss her like his life depended on it. Something in his gut told him his life may well depend on it.

“Hi. Come on in.” She grinned at him and started to move aside when her eyes widened. “Wow. Is that your car?”

Yes. The reaction he'd hoped for. “It is. I thought since it looked like rain I'd drive.”

She stepped out of the way to let him enter. “Oh, I can't wait to see the inside. I've never been in a Ferrari before. Hell, I've not even been close to one.” She shut the door. “Oh and thanks for calling me this morning. I really had no idea if I was to wear jeans or a ball gown for dinner.” She let out a light laugh.

He couldn't help but chuckle and was glad to see her sense of humor returning. “Do you own a ball gown?”

She rolled her eyes. “No, so I was really happy when you said casual.” She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “Let me grab my purse and we can go.”

She walked over to the kitchen table and it was then he noticed something missing. The flowers he'd given her were not sitting on the counter. Had she tossed them out? He knew she had been ticked at him last night, but she didn't seem like the kind of person who'd do that. He was usually a good judge of character, but then again he didn't know her all that well. He'd find out in his own way before the end of the night.

“I'm ready.”

“Good. Are you hungry?” He strode to the door and waited for her to exit before he closed it, making sure it was securely locked behind him.

“I'm starved. I forgot to eat lunch today.”

He skirted around her but not before taking a moment to admire her firm ass. Damn, if it didn't look as good in denim as it had in a bikini. He opened the car door and motioned for her to enter. After she folded into the seat, he shut the door and hurried around to the driver's side. Once inside, he turned over the engine and backed out of the driveway.

“This is really nice.” She caressed the counsel. His cock stirred.

Focus you fucking idiot.
Now was not the time for thinking about her hands all over him. “When the weather is nicer, I'll take you for a ride through the mountains. It's a rush.”

She stared at him, her brown eyes sparked with interest. “Oh, that sounds like fun.”

“So tell me, what kept you so busy you forgot to eat?”

She turned away from him and looked out the window. The rain began to splatter small drops on the glass. “I was busy writing.”

“That's wonderful news! So what do you suppose inspired you? Was it the beauty of our country?”

She turned from the window only to stare straight ahead. “Yes. It is beautiful here, how could an artist not be inspired?”

Interesting, she seemed to avoid looking directly at him. “What about the kiss,
querida?
Did my passion inspire you at all?” He waited, needing to know how she would answer.

“Is your ego really that big?” The slight twinge at the corner of her lips showed her amusement. Fine, he'd play along and see where it led.

“Of course. I'm a man and need to know if I pleased you.” He pulled into his driveway and pressed the button to open the garage.

She shrugged her shoulders. “It was fine.”

He pressed his palm to his heart feigning hurt. “I endeavor to do better then. Perhaps you'll let me try again?”

She broke into a full-blown smile. “Perhaps.”

That was all he needed and he pulled into the garage to park the car. In seconds, he had her door opened. “Welcome to my home. Come in and let me give you the tour.”

*****

Makayla stepped from the car enjoying the cat and mouse game she'd just played with Armand. She'd wanted to tell him his kiss was perfect. The best she'd ever had and if she were never kissed like that again she would always treasure that one time with him. However, her needy side wanted another. The woman in her that had been neglected for so long desired much more than a kiss. She was already painfully aware it wouldn't take much for him to get her into his bed. After all, she'd started the game and now prayed he would finish it.

She stepped through the wooden door he held open and gasped. She'd expected grand when they'd pulled into the driveway. However, this was beyond any words she could form. She stood in the entry of a kitchen three times bigger than her apartment back home. Warm oak cabinets lined one side of the room with two stainless steel built-in ovens. There were two islands, one in the middle with a small sink for prep work, and the other with seats for eating separated a small family area that held a couch, two chairs and a large flat screen TV. When she looked up, the skylight-filled ceiling went on forever. Even with its sheer size it left her feeling warm, and she could see herself busy preparing meals here.

He tossed his keys in an orange ceramic bowl on the counter. “My home is your home. Would you like to see the rest?”

“Oh, yes please!” What were the chances she'd ever be in a house so luxurious again? She wanted to soak in every detail and file it away for future reference.

He placed his palm at the small of her back, melting away the layers of ice. Nana's words echoed in her head and she couldn't help but think there might be something to them.

“Wonderful. We'll move to the living area next.”

He ushered her through a high archway where the floor changed from terra cotta colored tile to warm oak with a sheen so polished it almost looked like glass. Looking at the recessed windows and skylights that dotted the ceiling, Kayla could only imagine what the room would look like on a sunny day.

On the other side, another archway made of glass with large French doors led outside to a swimming pool. Armand quickly led her through the rec room, a home theater and several others until her head spun.

“This is the room I wanted you to see.” His voice dropped to a low seductive level.

She realized they had entered a bedroom. Kayla scanned the large master suite with a king size bed. His bed? She quickly turned her attention to the room on the other side and walked through the archway. She'd never seen a bathroom so large. Hell, the walk in shower alone would fit most of a football team.

She let out a squeal and moved to the alcove, running her hand over the smooth white porcelain of the tub tucked so nicely in the space and surrounded by windows. She imagined bubble baths while sipping wine. She also couldn't help notice it was big enough for two.

“Dear god, I've never seen anything like this house before. It really is beautiful.” She knew she should be nervous standing in the room where he slept, but instead had the urge to fling open his closets and see his wardrobe. Clothes and how they were kept said a lot about a man. She could picture his things all neatly folded with everything having its proper place.

Kayla wondered if he was going to kiss her again and her cheeks heated.

“I'm glad you approve. Now let's go have some dinner.”

Armand led her back through the house to the dining area where candles lit the table and flowers filled a vase in the center. She tried to hide her disappointment that he hadn't kissed her and wondered if she should become the initiator? Perhaps after dinner.

She gazed at the flowers and they reminded her of the ones he'd given her that now sat in the trash. A pang of guilt rushed through her. Not that it had been her fault, but she was still edgy from last night's events. The real reason she'd missed lunch was because she had fallen asleep.

“Kayla?”

She jumped. “Oh. Sorry.” Armand had pulled out a chair at the table and waited for her to be seated.

“What is bothering you,
querida?
You seem so far away tonight.” He pushed her chair in once she had sat, filled her wine glass then took the seat next to her. His intense blue stare bore into her. He was going to insist she open up.

“You'll think I'm an absolute nut job.”

“Try me. I think you'll find I'm very open minded.” He crossed his arms over his chest and arched a brow.

“Fine. After you walked me home, I showered then went to the kitchen table to write. I was deep in thought when I heard a crash.” She picked at the hem of her shirt.

He leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. “You're fidgeting.”

She looked up and met his gaze. God, how she loved staring into his eyes, felt like she could live there. It was then she realized she was falling for him.
This can't be happening. It's too fast. But he makes me feel so safe.

“Kayla.” Armand tapped his fingers on the table.

“Right. When I turned around to see what happened, the vase of flowers was on the floor.”

He leaned back and appeared more relaxed. “I'm sure the wind knocked them over. Don't worry, my gardens have plenty of flowers and you shall have a fresh bouquet everyday.”

He started to rise, but she touched his arm. “No, that's not all.” He sat back in his chair. “I thought the same thing, but the flowers were in tatters as if something had ripped them apart. There is no way the wind could do that.”

He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “There is more?”

“Yes. After I went to bed, I was nearly asleep when the covers were jerked off me. When I turned on the light, they were crumpled up at the foot of the bed. This happened twice so I finally gave up trying to sleep.”

“Most peculiar. Let me think about this while we eat.” He rose and left the room. Kayla wondered what was going through his mind at the moment. Did he think her a real nut case and was just being kind in not telling her?

Chapter
Nine

Although pleased Kayla enjoyed the dinner he'd prepared, Armand couldn't help think about what had happened at her place last night. She seemed fine other than a bit on edge, but that was to be expected. He knew some of the homes here were haunted. Old souls often refused to move on, but none had proved harmful to those they encountered.

“Are you sure you got enough to eat?” he inquired.

She placed a hand on her stomach. “I am stuffed. Those were some of the best
tapas
I've ever eaten.”

“Good, I'm happy to hear that.” He handed her a glass of wine then joined her on the sofa in front of the fireplace. It was too warm to light so he'd placed several candles in the hearth. “This storm is really picking up. We may lose power.”

She took a sip from her glass. “Does that happen often?”

No sooner had the words crossed her lips than a loud clap of thunder rattled the windows and everything went dark. All that remained were a few flickering candles.

“Wow. If I didn't know better, I'd say you planned that.” She set her glass on the side table and leaned closer to him. “I love storms. There's just something about them that makes me want to snuggle in.”

Even with his power, he couldn't control the weather so he was grateful as hell to Mother Nature for obliging him. He slipped his arm around Kayla's shoulder and pulled her closer. “Snuggle in then. I have plenty of wine and lots of candles.”

“Tell me, do you believe in ghosts?” He gauged her reaction.

“I guess. Are going to tell me my little villa is haunted?”

“It has been known to happen. Many strange things occur in our ancient village.” He squeezed her shoulder. “There is even a belief that the Jinn once lived here.”

Kayla broke away and stared at him, her body stiff. This appeared to be a touchy subject and he needed to know why.

“You don't believe in the supernatural?”

She flicked out her tongue and licked her lips. He could focus on nothing else but her mouth and how desperate he was to taste her again.

“Of course there are things we can't explain. I believe in spirits, but Jinn are a myth just like vampires and shape-shifters.”

Why did he not believe her? Something in her eyes said she wanted to, but would need proof. Never had he wanted his power more. The desire for her to know who and what he was burned his soul. He had tired of his lonely existence. Yes, he had an entire village yet he had to hide his identity. He wanted the woman who sat next to him to know the truth, but he had nothing to back up his claim. Instead, he smiled at her. “Yes, they are only a myth.” The words stung.
I must be a fucking fool! I can't have her in that way. She is mortal.