Read Online The Spanish Tycoon's Temptress by Elizabeth Lennox - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Lennox
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her waist. There was a moment of tension, a split second when she feared that he might reach down and kiss her once again. But then he stepped away and she breathed in, feeling some of the tension leave her body as he escorted her into the restaurant.
When the waiter handed her the menu, she looked at the choices, trying to find the item that would take the least amount of preparation and the easiest to cook. The less time she spent in his company, the better.
Gaston watched her carefully, amused by her belligerence which he knew was a front to cover the sexual tension she was feeling. He’d felt it from the moment she’d realized he was behind her and he savored it, wanting to increase that feeling. It was only to suit his purposes though. He didn’t have any personal need to have her himself.
“What are you in the mood to eat?” he asked when the waiter arrived at their table.
She slapped the menu down onto the table and glared at him. “The yogurt I brought from home today,” she said without any fear of his potential anger.
Gaston chuckled and closed his own menu. “She’ll have the blackened chicken and I’ll have the crab,” he said to the waiter who stood by their table looking confused.
Elana couldn’t believe he was once again ordering for her. “Why do you do that?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Do what?” he asked, letting his eyes linger on her breasts that pushed against her sweater. He chuckled at the lovely pink color that stole up her cheeks.
She ignored his laughter and continued to glare at him. “Think you know what I want better than I do. It’s patronizing.”
Gaston looked down at her pale, thin cheeks and a tide of anger welled up at her lack of awareness and concern for her own health. “You look like you haven’t eaten in about three weeks, Elana. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
She looked down at the table, suddenly feeling deflated because he was right. She wasn’t taking care of herself. She’d forgotten to eat breakfast this morning and she really was hungry because a cup of coffee didn’t last very long. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to eat better but you really don’t need to take me out for meals just to make sure I eat well.”
He was surprised by her sudden defeat. He didn’t like the sad, desolate look that entered her eyes. He preferred the spunky, kick-the- shins-of-whoever-got-in-her-way Elana. “What just happened?” he demanded.
Elana smiled slightly, leaning forward and running her fingers over the condensation of her water glass while she looked around at the other patrons. “I guess I simply realized that you’re right. I haven’t been taking care of myself. My home is a mess, I’m barely eating….” She sighed and her shoulders drooped. “I haven’t even exercised since… I don’t know when.”
“You used to love working out,” he said softly, his voice gravelly as it always was when memories popped up of what she used to be like, of what they had together and lost.
She grimaced. “I know.” She looked down at the linen table cloth. “Do you?” She asked. “Work out, I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Just as crazy as you used to be?”
He chuckled. “I never thought I was crazy before.”
She laughed softly. “Which only means that your workouts are probably more insane than they used to be.” Her eyes drifted over his broad, muscular shoulders and the biceps that bulged against the fabric of his suit. “You look good,” she said, suddenly startled by that realization. Hadn’t he been affected by their breakup? Actually, he looked amazing, even more buff than he had been before when they were together.
“I still work out,” was all he would say.
“And what else do you do?”
He wasn’t sure what she was asking but he leaned forward himself. “I work a great deal,” he
When the waiter handed her the menu, she looked at the choices, trying to find the item that would take the least amount of preparation and the easiest to cook. The less time she spent in his company, the better.
Gaston watched her carefully, amused by her belligerence which he knew was a front to cover the sexual tension she was feeling. He’d felt it from the moment she’d realized he was behind her and he savored it, wanting to increase that feeling. It was only to suit his purposes though. He didn’t have any personal need to have her himself.
“What are you in the mood to eat?” he asked when the waiter arrived at their table.
She slapped the menu down onto the table and glared at him. “The yogurt I brought from home today,” she said without any fear of his potential anger.
Gaston chuckled and closed his own menu. “She’ll have the blackened chicken and I’ll have the crab,” he said to the waiter who stood by their table looking confused.
Elana couldn’t believe he was once again ordering for her. “Why do you do that?” she demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Do what?” he asked, letting his eyes linger on her breasts that pushed against her sweater. He chuckled at the lovely pink color that stole up her cheeks.
She ignored his laughter and continued to glare at him. “Think you know what I want better than I do. It’s patronizing.”
Gaston looked down at her pale, thin cheeks and a tide of anger welled up at her lack of awareness and concern for her own health. “You look like you haven’t eaten in about three weeks, Elana. Why are you doing this to yourself?”
She looked down at the table, suddenly feeling deflated because he was right. She wasn’t taking care of herself. She’d forgotten to eat breakfast this morning and she really was hungry because a cup of coffee didn’t last very long. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I need to eat better but you really don’t need to take me out for meals just to make sure I eat well.”
He was surprised by her sudden defeat. He didn’t like the sad, desolate look that entered her eyes. He preferred the spunky, kick-the- shins-of-whoever-got-in-her-way Elana. “What just happened?” he demanded.
Elana smiled slightly, leaning forward and running her fingers over the condensation of her water glass while she looked around at the other patrons. “I guess I simply realized that you’re right. I haven’t been taking care of myself. My home is a mess, I’m barely eating….” She sighed and her shoulders drooped. “I haven’t even exercised since… I don’t know when.”
“You used to love working out,” he said softly, his voice gravelly as it always was when memories popped up of what she used to be like, of what they had together and lost.
She grimaced. “I know.” She looked down at the linen table cloth. “Do you?” She asked. “Work out, I mean.”
“Yes.”
“Just as crazy as you used to be?”
He chuckled. “I never thought I was crazy before.”
She laughed softly. “Which only means that your workouts are probably more insane than they used to be.” Her eyes drifted over his broad, muscular shoulders and the biceps that bulged against the fabric of his suit. “You look good,” she said, suddenly startled by that realization. Hadn’t he been affected by their breakup? Actually, he looked amazing, even more buff than he had been before when they were together.
“I still work out,” was all he would say.
“And what else do you do?”
He wasn’t sure what she was asking but he leaned forward himself. “I work a great deal,” he
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