Just One More Night

Nick’s expression didn’t alter. “Like I said, you haven’t returned my calls, and you didn’t turn up for our...appointment in Sydney. You left me no choice.”

Elena’s cheeks warmed at his blunt reference to the fact that she had failed to meet him for what had sounded more like a date than a business meeting at one of Sydney’s most expensive restaurants.

She had never in her life missed an appointment, or even been late for one, but the idea that Nick’s father had paid her aunt off with jewelry, the standard currency for a mistress, had been deeply insulting. “I told you over the phone, I don’t believe your father gave Aunt Katherine anything. Why would he?”

His expression was oddly neutral. “They were having an affair.”

She made an effort to control the automatic fury that gripped her at Nick’s stubborn belief that her aunt had conducted a sneaky, underhanded affair with her employer.

Quite apart from the fact that her aunt had considered Nick’s mother, Luisa Messena, to be her friend, she had been a woman of strong morals. And there was one powerful, abiding reason her aunt would never have gotten involved with Stefano, or any man.

Thirty years ago Katherine Lyon had fallen in love, completely, irrevocably, and he had died.

In the Lyon family the legend of Katherine’s unrequited love was well respected. Lyons were not known for being either passionate or tempestuous. They were more the steady-as-you-go type of people who tended to choose solid careers and marry sensibly. In days gone by they had been admirable servants and thrifty farmers. Unrequited love, or love lost in any form was a novelty.

Elena didn’t know who Aunt Katherine’s lover had been because her aunt had point-blank refused to talk about him. All she knew was that her aunt, an exceptionally beautiful woman, had remained determinedly single and had stated she would never love again.

Elena’s fingers tightened on the strap of her handbag. “No. They were not having an affair. Lyon women are not, and never have been, the playthings of wealthy men.”

Cutler cleared his throat. “I see you two have met.”

Elena turned her gaze on the real estate agent, who was a small, balding man with a precise manner. There were no confusing shades with Cutler, which was why she had chosen him. He was factual and efficient, attributes she could relate to in her own career as a personal assistant.

Although, it seemed the instant she had any contact with Nick Messena, her usual calm, methodical process evaporated and she found herself plunged into the kind of passionate emotional excess that was distinctly un-Lyon-like. “We’re acquainted.”

Nick’s brows jerked together. “I seem to remember it was a little more than that.”

Elena gave up the attempt to avoid the confrontation Nick was angling for and glared back. “If you were a gentleman, you wouldn’t mention the past.”

“As I recall from a previous conversation, I’m no gentleman.”

Elena blushed at his reference to the accusation she had flung at him during a chance meeting in Dolphin Bay, a couple of months after their one night together. That he was arrogant and ruthless and emotionally incapable of sustaining a relationship. “I don’t see why I should help drag the Lyon name through the mud one more time just because you want to get your hands on some clunky old piece of jewelry you’ve managed to lose.”

His brows jerked together. “I didn’t lose anything, and you already know that the missing piece of jewelry is a diamond ring.”

And knowing the Messena family and their extreme wealth, the diamond would be large, breathtakingly expensive and probably old. “Aunt Katherine would have zero interest in a diamond ring. In case you didn’t notice, she was something of a feminist and she almost never wore jewelry. Besides, if she was having a secret affair with your father, what possible interest would she have in wearing an expensive ring that proclaimed that fact?”

Nick’s gaze cooled perceptibly. “Granted. Nevertheless, the ring is gone.”

Cutler cleared his throat and gestured that she take a seat. “Mr. Messena has expressed interest in the villa you’ve inherited in Dolphin Bay. He proposed a swap with one of his new waterfront apartments here in Auckland, which is why I invited him to this meeting.”

Elena suppressed her knee-jerk desire to say that, as keen as she was to sell, there was no way she would part with the villa to a Messena. “That’s very interesting,” she said smoothly. “But at the moment I’m keeping my options open.”

Still terminally on edge at Nick’s brooding presence, Elena debated stalking out of the office in protest at the way her meeting with Cutler had been hijacked.

In the end, feeling a little sorry for Cutler, she sat in one of the comfortable leather seats he had indicated. She soothed herself with the thought that if Nick Messena, the quintessential entrepreneur and businessman, wanted to make her an offer, then she should hear it, even if only for the pleasure of saying no.

Instead of sitting in the other available chair, Nick propped himself on the edge of Cutler’s desk. The casual lounging position had the effect of making him look even larger and more muscular as he loomed over her. “It’s a good deal. The apartments are in the Viaduct and they’re selling fast.”

The Viaduct was the waterfront area just off the central heart of the city, which overlooked the marina. It was both picturesque and filled with wonderful restaurants and cafés. As an area, it was at the top of her wish list because it would be so easy to rent out the apartment. A trade would eliminate the need to take out a mortgage to afford a waterfront apartment, something the money from selling the villa wouldn’t cover completely.

Nick’s gaze skimmed her hair, making her aware that, during her dash across the road, silky wisps had escaped to trail and cling to her cheeks and neck. “I’ll consider a straight swap.”

Elena stiffened and wondered if Nick was reading her mind. A swap would mean she wouldn’t have to go into debt, which was tempting. “The villa has four bedrooms. I’d want at least two in an apartment.”

He shrugged. “I’ll throw in a third bedroom, a dedicated parking space, and access to the pool and fitness center.”

Three bedrooms. Elena blinked as a rosy future without the encumbrance of a mortgage opened up. She caught the calculating gleam in Nick’s eye and realized the deal was too good. There could be only one reason for that. It had strings.

He was deliberately dangling the property because he wanted her to help him find the missing ring, which he no doubt thought, since she didn’t personally have it, must still be in the old villa somewhere.

Over her dead body.

Elena swallowed the desire to grasp at what was an exceptionally good real estate deal.

She couldn’t do it if it involved selling out in any way to a Messena. Maybe it was a subtle point, but after the damage done to her aunt’s reputation, even if it was years in the past, and after her own seduction, she was determined to make a stand.

Lyon property was not for sale to a Messena, just like Lyon women were not for sale. She met Nick’s gaze squarely. “No.”

Cutler’s disbelief was not mirrored on Nick’s face. His gaze was riveted on her, as if in that moment he found her completely, utterly fascinating.

Another small heated tingle shot down her spine and lodged in her stomach.

As if, in some perverse way, he had liked it that she had said no.

Two

Elena dragged her gaze from the magnetic power of Nick’s and fought the crazy urge to stay and continue sparring with him.

Pushing to her feet, she bid Cutler good day, picked up her handbag and stepped out the door. Nick was close enough behind her that the sudden overpowering sense that she was being pursued sent another hot, forbidden thrill zinging through her.

The door snapped closed. Nick’s firm tread confirmed that he was in pursuit and the faint, heady whiff of his cologne made her stomach clench. Clamping down on the wimpy feeling that she was prey and Nick was a large, disgruntled predator, Elena lengthened her stride and walked briskly past the receptionist out into the mall.

She had just stepped out of air-conditioned coolness into the humid heat of the street when a large tanned hand curled briefly around her upper arm. “What I don’t get is why you’re still so angry.”

Elena spun and faced Nick, although that was a mistake because she was suddenly close enough that she could see a pulse jumping along the line of his jaw.

She tilted her chin to meet his gaze, unbearably aware that while she was quite tall at five foot eight, Nick was several inches taller and broad enough that he actually made her feel feminine and fragile. “You shouldn’t have crashed my meeting with Cutler or tried to pressure me when you knew ahead of time how I felt.”

There was an odd, vibrating pause. “I’m sorry if I hurt you six years ago, but after what happened that night it couldn’t be any other way.”

His words, the fact that he obviously thought she had fallen for him six years ago, dropped into a pool of silence that seemed to expand and spread around them, blotting out the street noise. She dragged her gaze from the taut planes of his cheekbones, the inky crescents of his lashes. “Are you referring to the accident, or the fact that you were already involved with someone else called Tiffany?” A girlfriend he’d apparently had stashed away in Dubai.

Nick frowned. “The relationship with Tiffany was already ending.”

Elena found herself staring at the V of bronzed flesh bared by the pale peach T-shirt Nick was wearing beneath his black jacket. Peach. It was a feminine color, but on Nick the color looked sexy and hot, emphasizing the tough, stubbled line of his jaw and the cool gleam of his eyes. “I read about Tiffany in an article that was published a whole month later.”

She would never forget because the statement that Nick Messena and his gorgeous model girlfriend were in love had finally convinced her that a relationship with him had never been viable.