The Executive's Valentine Seduction / Valente Must Marry: The Executive's Valentine Seduction. Merline Lovelace

site of the 1929 World’s Fair and now filled with the wild and wonderful sculptures by Spain’s great Joan Miró. But Gaudí’s unfinished cathedral had truly left an indelible imprint on her.

      Its towers appeared in the distance soon after they turned onto Avenue Diagonal, spearing into the blue sky with the soaring power of the apostles they were intended to represent. Eight additional towers were still under construction. Huge cranes had been an integral feature of the cathedral landscape since its foundation was laid in 1882.

      Vowing to get Rory in for a closer look, Caroline directed him down Avenue Diagonal, then onto the city’s fashionable north-south artery, Paseo de Gracia.

      “There’s the fountain Señor Casteel said to look for.” She pointed to the five-tiered sculpture shooting jets of silvery water high into the air. “His office building should be on the next block.”

      Following the directions, Rory turned into an underground parking lot and pulled into the spot that had been reserved for him next to the elevators. Moments later, he ushered Caroline into an eighth-floor corridor flooded with light and stopped dead.

      “What the hell is that? A giant chess set?”

      She followed his startled gaze to the window at the end of the corridor. The sparkling glass gave a clear view of the rooftop of the building across the street.

      “Those are chimneys and air vents!”

      Thrilled, Caroline dragged him to the window for a closer look at the dozens of fanciful figures sprouting from the wavy roof. Below the modernistic sculptures was an art-deco-style apartment complex decorated with undulating wrought-iron balconies.

      “That’s La Pedrera. A series of residences Gaudí designed for the Mila family in the early 1900s. He described the roof sculptures as sentinels in the sky.”

      “Weird,” Rory muttered, fascinated despite himself.

      “Ha! If you think those are weird, wait until you see his Casa Batlló. The balconies all look like skulls.”

      “And you like this kind of architecture?”

      “I love it.”

      “No accounting for tastes,” he said with one of his quicksilver grins.

      Caroline knew then she was in trouble. Major trouble. All the man had to do was flash that killer grin and she went gooey inside.

      Just like last time, a voice in her head shouted. All those years ago. When he’d glance up, catch her watching him. One corner of his mouth would lift in a sardonic, knowing smile, and she would fall apart.

      She’d ached for him then with a schoolgirl’s passion. There wasn’t anything the least girlish about the desire that now tightened Caroline’s nipples under the silk tank top and stirred a damp heat between her thighs.

      Some of that wild hunger must have shown in her face. Rory’s smile lost its cocky tilt. The tanned skin stretched tight across his cheeks. He leaned in, his gaze holding hers, and brushed a knuckle over her cheek.

      “Let’s go take care of business. All of a sudden I’ve got an uncontrollable urge to see more of this guy Gaudí’s crazy architecture.”

      Architecture was the last thing on Rory’s mind as he escorted Caroline up the steps of Juan Casteel’s palatial town house later that evening.

      He’d spent a good four hours in the shipping magnate’s office, pumping him for precise details regarding his business, his lifestyle, his current security arrangements and the threats that had prompted him to consider additional expertise.

      Now, with the night breeze stirring the soft tendrils that had escaped Caroline’s smooth twist and her scent teasing his nostrils, he was seriously regretting that he’d agreed to mix business with pleasure for another few hours.