THE VALQUEZ SEDUCTION(64)
He suddenly laughed. ‘I need my head read.’
Daisy peeped up at him again. ‘Why? Because you’re enjoying yourself and you didn’t expect to?’
He brought the tip of his finger down the slope of her nose. ‘I’ve never met anyone like you before.’
‘You really need to get out more.’
He was still smiling as he pulled her close. ‘Maybe I do.’
* * *
Because it was their last night together before she flew home with the girls, Luiz took Daisy to an exclusive restaurant where the chef had won numerous awards. He had booked a private dining room for them, which added to the decadence. She drooled at the delicious food as each dish was brought to their table. A seafood starter in a delectable piquant sauce, prime fillet steak with a colourful vegetable stack and crusty bread rolls with fresh butter for mains. All artfully presented and cooked to perfection, complemented with fine wines that burst with flavour with each sip.
‘My thighs are going to hate you for this,’ Daisy said as she finally put down her knife and fork. ‘I’ve eaten more in the last four days than I’ve eaten in the last four months. Years, even.’
He sat watching her like an indulgent uncle. ‘I like to see a woman with a healthy appetite.’
‘Yes, well, if only my appetite for exercise was as robust.’
His dark eyes smouldered. ‘Maybe you’ve been doing the wrong sort of workouts.’
Daisy felt a shiver go down her spine. ‘I hate exercising alone.’
‘So you prefer contact sports?’
‘Not until very recently.’
His mouth tipped up in a sexy smile. ‘Do you want dessert and coffee or should we go and get some exercise?’
Daisy pretended to think about it. ‘Hmm, let me see now…dessert or a hot, sweaty workout?’
His eyes glinted some more. ‘Can I tempt you with your own personal trainer?’
She tossed her napkin on the table and pushed back her chair. ‘Sold.’
* * *
Luiz pushed back the bedcovers at two a.m. and wandered over to the windows to look at the busy strip below. He hated not being able to sleep. Hour after hour of tossing and fidgeting and ruminating made his head pound. Normally he would work off his restlessness in the gym but he hadn’t wanted to leave Daisy. He scoffed at his uncharacteristic sentimentality. It wasn’t as if this was the end of the affair. He would be seeing her on and off in London. He was still in the driving seat. He would say when and where and for how long. The Grand Slam was supposed to be his focus, not a slip of a girl who was looking for the fairy tale. The closest he got to the fairy tale was the role of the big bad wolf. He was good at being bad. He’d spent most of his life playing up. It was his trademark.
He turned from the window to look at Daisy. She was still sleeping soundly, clearly not worried this was their last night together. She was curled up on her side, her cheek resting on one of her hands in that childlike manner she had and her hair splayed out over his pillow. The scent of her was on his sheets, on his skin, burned in his memory. He would never be able to walk past honeysuckle without thinking of her.
How had he got himself in this situation? He was feeling sick to his stomach at the thought of saying goodbye to her at the airport. He hated goodbyes. He loathed them with a passion. He still remembered the way his mother had swept him up in a goodbye hug and poured kisses all over his face as she left for her ‘holiday’. He hadn’t seen her for two years. He had spent every single day of them waiting. Hoping.