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  A Spanish Seduction

  Alyssa J. Montgomery

  A Spanish Seduction

  A tender yet passionate romance, A Spanish Seduction is the story of Ricardo and Jessica - strong individuals who learn that love can help heal their traumatic pasts and ensure a happier future.

  Spanish heart-throb, Ricardo Garcia’s Formula One racing days and playboy ways are over. The former world champion is now determined to succeed in the corporate world. But, his reputation is being deliberately and maliciously blackened, threatening to destroy his chances at a new life. He needs Jessica Harris to help him achieve his corporate goals. She's an extremely unlikely candidate for the position, but only she will do. He doesn't bank on Jessica's ability to draw out emotions he's guarded against, or to challenge his views on love and commitment. Not only does she help him overcome corporate obstacles, but she makes him face his personal demons and threatens to destroy the controlled status quo he's worked so hard to establish in his life.

  Jessica Harris is instantly attracted to Ricardo and knows if she helps him she can attain her own goals and move forward with her life. But, if she agrees to his plan, she'll be forced out into the public spotlight when she'd prefer to remain hidden in the shadows. While he makes her re-examine her past actions and beliefs, she must guard against her attraction to him and keep him at arm's length. Can she take the risk of becoming involved with Ricardo when it will certainly expose her to the world's judgemental media and may mean that her heart is broken in the process?

  “A Spanish Seduction” is copyright by Alyssa J. Montgomery, 2014

  All rights reserved.

  By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the author: [email protected]

  Cover Graphic Images were purchased through Shutterstock

  Cover Design by AustinDesignworks

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. The characters are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author. Events mentioned are not intended to be an accurate representation. Any resemblance to actual locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  About the Author

  Alyssa lives on acreage south of Sydney, Australia, with her husband, three children and a menagerie of animals. She has a Master’s degree in Science and is a Speech-Language Pathologist who works in her own private practice. Alyssa has also been a professional pianist and an international flight attendant for Qantas Airways. She still loves to travel with her family, to play tennis and to entertain friends at dinner parties.

  Alyssa also pens historical romance under the name Alyssa James. Her first historical title, “Knight of Her Heart” was an Amazon bestseller for historical romance.

  You can visit Alyssa’s website at www.alyssajmontgomery.com, follow her on Facebook or Twitter @Alyssaromance, or contact her direct at [email protected]

  Alyssa loves hearing from readers.

  Acknowledgements

  Many thanks to Jake for all the editorial work. As always, you’ve been a pleasure to work with. Thanks also to my family, especially my husband and three wonderful children, who understand the effort that goes into writing a novel, and who unfailingly support my endeavours.

  Dedication

  To my fabulous children, Brad, Hailey and Sarah. Thank you for making parenthood such a wonderful experience. You have enriched my life and are growing into individuals I love, admire and respect. Congratulations to all of you for the multitude of fantastic achievements you’ve made so far in your lives, and thank you for your support in allowing me to achieve my goals.

  Chapter One

  ‘Jessica!’ Tiffany squealed over the dance music. ‘Do you have any idea who you just served?’

  Jess shook her head in response. She was a little shell-shocked after the brief interaction she’d had with the guy whose drink order she’d delivered. Just one look at him had almost rendered her tongue-tied.

  ‘I despair of you!’ Tiffany threw her hands up in a gesture of pure exasperation.

  Striving to dismiss the gorgeous customer from her mind, Jess gave the barman a brief smile and passed over her next cocktail order.

  ‘You seriously don’t recognise him?’ Tiffany persisted.

  London’s exclusive cocktail lounge was crowded and its adjoining night club pumped. It wasn’t unusual for a host of celebrities to be present on a Friday night, but Jess couldn’t place the guy she’d served. ‘Judging by your reaction, I’m guessing he’s an A-lister. I know his accent was Spanish, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen him in here.’ Had she seen him, she would definitely have remembered. He wasn’t the sort of guy any woman would forget.

  ‘Don’t you ever read the social pages?’ Tiffany demanded.

  ‘No.’ Whoever the guy was, she didn’t want to be susceptible to the kind of testosterone that emanated from him in waves. She had to erase him from her mind and push through the rest of the evening. Her shoulders ached and her legs were unbearably tired from having stood all week in her nine-to-five job.

  ‘He hasn’t been able to take his eyes off you,’ Tiffany commented excitedly. ‘What did he say to you?’

  Stifling an inward groan at her friend’s continued flight of fancy, Jess relayed the

  brief encounter matter-of-factly. ‘He asked me for a scotch. I took it to him and he thanked me. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you.’

  ‘That’s it?’ Tiffany’s eyes were wide with disbelief.

  Well, not quite, but Jess wasn’t about to admit that even though his fingertips had barely brushed hers, the contact had sent a delicious shiver across her skin and caused her cheeks to warm.

  ‘He didn’t ask for your name or phone number?’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘There’s no of course not about it, Jessica. He’s totally into you.’

  ‘That’s rubbish!’ Unable to resist, Jess cast her gaze back toward the Spaniard. Heat blazed through her as their eyes connected. The noise around her faded. For a moment, she lost the capacity to breathe.

  Oh, Lord. There was a most unnerving realisation of liquid need deep inside her.

  Now, she understood the cliché about looking at someone across a crowded room and the earth standing still. That was exactly what this was like for her.

  The hint of a frown between his brows suggested it wasn’t the same for the Spaniard. As he regarded her, he gave the distinct impression he wasn’t particularly happy about something.

  ‘See what I mean? Oh honey, you’re in!’ Tiffany’s words snapped Jess out of her trance.

  ‘He looks annoyed.’

  Tiffany tipped her head to one side. ‘No. Not annoyed. I’d say he’s thinking hard.’ She winked. ‘Maybe he’s trying to figure out how to get your attention?’

  He wasn’t a guy who’d ever have to work at getting female attention. But, why did he look at her that way? Forcing her voice to be calm, Jess asked, ‘Who is he?’

  ‘You just served Ricardo Garcia.’

  The name sounded vaguely familiar, but Jess still had no idea of the identity of the male with the chocolate smooth voice and the mesmerizing bedroom eyes. ‘Is he a model?’

  Her friend rolled her e
yes. ‘He was the World Champion Formula One racing car driver for at least five consecutive years. Just one of the most eligible bachelors in Europe and he’s still looking this way!’

  The music from the adjoining nightclub was drowned out by Jessica’s heart beat reverberating erratically right up through her skull.

  ‘You’re imagining it,’ she dismissed. ‘Somebody like him would never be interested in someone like me.’ Trying to shift her mind back to work, Jessica followed the barman’s actions as he measured the spirits and poured them into the cocktail shaker.

  ‘Stop selling yourself short,’ Tiffany admonished. ‘I hardly recognised you the other day when your horrendous glasses slipped off. Revamp your wardrobe and let your hair down. If you did, you’d have every man in the place coming on to you.’

  ‘Hardly.’ It was a gross exaggeration, even for Tiffany. ‘I couldn’t even keep Jett interested.’ The bitter thought made her lips tighten.

  ‘That first-class rat wasn’t worth hanging on to. You’ve got to move on.’ Tiffany accepted her drink order from another barman and arranged the glasses on her tray. Turning back to Jessica she asked, ‘How long has it been now?’

  ‘Exactly a year.’ Jess guessed her smile was probably overbright in her effort to keep her lower lip from wobbling.

  Tiffany sent her a penetrating look. ‘You deserve someone better.’ She reached out and gave Jessica a brief, comforting touch. ‘I finish later than you tonight, but how about hanging around? When I finish, we can go somewhere else and check out the talent.’

  ‘Thanks, but I just want to go home and crash.’ Her marriage to Jett had been a failure and she still couldn’t contemplate getting into another relationship. Besides, night clubs really weren’t her scene.

  Tiffany jabbed her index finger into Jessica’s upper arm. ‘Just because one bastard screwed you over doesn’t mean you should hibernate.’

  Huh! Jett hadn’t been the only guy in her life to let her down. Hell! A psychologist would have a field day tracing everything back to Jessica’s father’s refusal to be named on her birth certificate.

  ‘I’ll bet Ricardo Garcia would be dynamite in bed.’ Tiffany gave Jess a gentle nudge with her elbow and picked up her tray. ‘Give him the green flag, honey, and instead of going home to an empty bed-sit, you might spend the night with him.’

  Jess forced out a laugh. ‘Of course I’ll go home with him. He’s sure to be sitting there wondering how he can fly me off to Barcelona for a weekend of passionate sex!’

  ‘Oh, look. He’s just downed that scotch. Get over there and ask him if he’d like another,’ Tiffany bossed, before she walked away to deliver her order.

  Even though his image was branded on her brain, Jess turned her head to look again at the handsome Spaniard. His frown had disappeared, but his regard was still intense and he moved his head in acknowledgement of her.

  Her eyes must surely have grown as wide as saucers behind her thick-rimmed glasses.

  Embarrassed at being caught looking at him, she forced a polite smile and turned back hurriedly toward the bar. More than a little uncertain, she scanned her reflection in the mirrored wall. There had to be something seriously wrong with her appearance tonight to keep him looking. Had she smudged her lipstick? No, she wasn’t wearing any. Were all the buttons on her blouse done up? Yes. The reflection staring back at her assured her there was nothing out of place. It also confirmed there was nothing Ricardo Garcia would look at twice.

  Dark brown hair was pulled back into a no-nonsense pony tail. The thick frame of her glasses hid her almond-shaped eyes and long lashes — arguably her best features. Jess was convinced there was nothing outstanding that would make anyone notice her.

  ‘Are you okay, Jess?’ the barman asked as he placed the last of her order on her tray.

  ‘Just tired.’ She shot him a quick smile. ‘Thanks,’ she muttered before heading back into the throng to deliver the cocktails.

  These drinks were for a group seated at a table close by the racing car driver. Damn Tiffany and all her talk. Awareness of the Formula One Champion now pulsed fervently through Jessica’s blood, and got more frenetic with each step she took in his direction.

  Everything about Ricardo Garcia screamed all-powerhouse male — from the intense magnetism of his compelling dark eyes, to the jaw line peppered liberally with designer stubble. When she’d first seen him, her eyes had run over each of his features hungrily. They’d lingered on his sensually carved lips before moving down the solid column of his neck. Now, she recalled how the black silk of his shirt lovingly outlined his broad shoulders. It would be heaven to be held against him. His strength would surely make any woman feel secure and protected.

  She’d been surprised when her hands had itched to reach out and undo a few more of his shirt buttons. It would be a sensual delight to peel back the fabric — to expose more of the tanned flesh where the open V revealed a smattering of dark chest hair, and to touch the muscled wall of his chest.

  Well developed male physiques were no novelty to her. At her day job, she massaged some of the most athletic bodies in Britain. Never, however, had she known such a jolt of primal recognition when she’d looked at a man.

  There’d been a definite electrical current when her hand had accidentally brushed against his as she’d passed him his drink. The zap had seared all the way up her arm and earthed itself right between her legs.

  Not even her former husband had stirred such a blast of sexual longing in her. Then again, nothing about their sexual relationship had been satisfying.

  Pushing those thoughts away, and pinning a smile on her face, she handed out the cocktails to the group; cleared away some of their empty glasses, then cast a glance again in the Spaniard’s direction. Tiffany was right. He had finished his drink.

  A mix of reluctance and adrenaline infused Jessica’s bloodstream as she walked to his table. Jess reminded herself this man deserved good service. It wasn’t his fault he made her weak at the knees. She had no right to give him less service than she would any other patron just because he made her pulse race.

  ‘Can I get you another scotch, sir?’ she asked politely.

  ‘No.’ He leant back and his eyes ran over her. There was nothing casual about his inspection. She felt as though he committed every inch of her to memory. Heat stole over her skin. She was just about to escape when he said, ‘I think I’ll try one of the club cocktail specials.’

  Placing her tray on the table, she took out her order book and pencil. It was hard to breathe normally when her heart wanted to sprint free of the confines of her chest. ‘What would you like to order?’

  ‘What do you recommend?’

  Oh gosh. His voice was so seductive she wanted to listen to it forever. The Spanish accent and lilt struck an elemental chord inside her. Quivers of something fiery raced through her veins and bubbled straight to her head more potently than a champagne cocktail.

  He looked at her expectantly, and she realised she hadn’t answered his question. Shifting on her feet, she fixated on her order pad and raised her pen, ready to write.

  ‘I like sweeter cocktails,’ she said, avoiding his eyes and addressing the order book. ‘Something with a bit of Irish cream and coffee liqueur as a base. Your taste might be entirely different, so it would be better if you chose from the list.’

  He reached over, took the cocktail menu from the centre of the table and perused it. The action made her hyper-aware of his magnificent shoulders as the fabric of his shirt pulled across their width.

  ‘Here’s one which fulfils your recommendations. Part vodka, amaretto, coffee liqueur and Irish cream.’ He paused. ‘I’ll have one of those.’

  ‘You’d like a screaming orgasm?’ As soon as the words were out, Jess swallowed hard. Her cheeks went from hot to burning. She began writing down the order but was forced to look at him when he didn’t respond.

  There was a slight curve to his lips as he said, ‘I think I’d like to sample your
screaming orgasm.’

  Oh my. Her head spun with each shallow breath. Those rich brown eyes of his held a light of challenge. She got the distinct impression he wasn’t referring to the cocktail any longer.

  Could Tiffany be right?

  No. He couldn’t possibly be flirting with her. Pain lanced through her chest. It was possible she’d misunderstood him, yet past events immediately made her stiffen. He was surely playing a game. A cruel game she’d been exposed to once before.

  ‘Have you ever had one, querida?’

  That sexy voice made her hurt recede and swamped her with uncertainty as she tried to make sense of this exchange.

  ‘I...No. I haven’t. I...’ Her tongue was thick, tripping over words in her embarrassment. ‘I’ve heard they’re very good.’

  Damn! Damn! Were they talking about the drink here or something more personal? This was just getting worse with every word she uttered, and he looked like he relished her discomfort.

  He placed the cocktail menu back on the table, but his eyes didn’t leave hers. ‘What’s holding you back?’

  It was ridiculous. He couldn’t possibly mean anything personal in his remarks. She was imagining it because of her crazy, over-the-top consciousness of him and Tiffany’s silly comments.

  Forcing her body to relax, she said, ‘I’d choose the kahlua, grenadine, advocaat, Irish cream and Romano mix. It’s called the Black Knight.’

  ‘Ah. That sounds very rich.’ The corners of his lips twitched again as though he fought hard to suppress a smile. ‘Maybe a mix of the two — a screaming orgasm with a black knight?’

  Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open for a split second before she snapped it shut. Had he really said what she thought he’d said? Mentally, she replayed his words. He couldn’t have meant it like that. Perhaps his English wasn’t as good as it seemed?