THE VALQUEZ SEDUCTION(7)
Daisy was sure she would have permanent lines around her mouth from all the lip-pursing she was doing. ‘Were you born naturally obnoxious or is it something you’ve worked on over the years?’
He pushed himself away from the bar and ran an idle fingertip down the length of her bare arm from her shoulder to her wrist, still with that mocking smile curving his mouth. ‘Save the last dance for me, querida.’
Daisy gave him a withering look as she brushed past him to join her friends, ‘Dream on.’
* * *
Luiz decided to leave the nightclub at 3:00 a.m. He’d lost sight of the English girl when he’d stopped to chat to someone he knew on the polo circuit. By the time he’d turned around again she had disappeared. He refused to acknowledge the strange little pit of disappointment in his belly. Easy come, easy go. There were plenty of other girls he could pick up if he could be bothered.
He wasn’t sure what it was about her that fascinated him so much. She wasn’t his usual type with her girl-next-door looks and prim goody-two-shoes manner. But her chestnut hair had highlights that shone like spun gold and her darkly lashed intensely blue eyes reminded him of the Aegean Sea. Her skin had that roses and cream bloom young English women were famous for and her mouth was generous and full, suggesting a passionate nature behind the haughty I’m-too-good-for-the-likes-of-you air she affected.
He’d spent most of the evening watching her watching him. It amused him to see her try and disguise her interest. Hiding behind a drink she barely touched or the shoulder of one of her friends. Pretending to be having a good time when clearly the nightclub scene was not her usual stomping ground. For all that she’d dressed for the part in a little black dress and high heels, she looked out of place. She reminded him of Bambi pretending to be Barbarella.
Luiz walked back to his hotel room alone. He’d had plenty of offers he could have taken up but for once he wasn’t in the mood. He was still shaking off the jet lag from when he’d flown in from Argentina, where he’d spent some time with his older brother and his new wife, Teddy. Seeing his brother so happy had triggered a restless feeling he couldn’t block out with endless partying. It used to be just him and Alejandro. They were a team. The playboy Valquez brothers, notorious the world over for having a good time. Women flocked to them wherever they went.
Now Luiz was on his own, wandering around the globe in search of the next victory on the polo field. Trophy after trophy lined the bookshelves at his villa—the villa he only ever visited when the polo schedule allowed. He lived out of an overnight bag; he didn’t stay long enough in one place to warrant a suitcase. He checked in and checked out of hotels like he checked in and out of relationships. One-night stands were his speciality. What was the point of hanging around for someone to do the check out on you? He had seen his mother do that to his father. He had seen his brother suffer the public humiliation of being jilted at the altar ten years ago. Sure, Alejandro was happy now, and Teddy seemed like a top sort of girl, but that sort of commitment wasn’t for him.
No one was ever going to have the power to hurt him. Again.
Luiz was five doors away from his suite when he saw her—the English girl with the cut-glass accent. She was with a man who was leading her by the hand towards a room on the other side further down the corridor. However, something about the little tableau didn’t seem right. The English girl was not steady on her feet and her blue eyes were no longer clear and bright but glazed and disoriented.
‘What are you looking at?’ the man with her snarled at Luiz.
Luiz glanced at the English girl. ‘Are you all right, querida?’
The girl looked at him vacantly, her head lolling to one side. ‘I need to go to bed…’