by Alexia Adams
“And how long after the service will you be staying in Argentina?”
“I haven’t booked my return flight. I have some … unfinished business I’d like to wrap up. Maybe a couple of days. A week at most.”
He glanced at her, but his gaze skittered away just as quick. Maybe she wasn’t playing fair, wearing one of his shirts. And only his shirt. But she was desperate.
“Then you might as well stay here. My friends are away in France. I can crash at their place. I’ll just pack a few things.” He moved towards his bedroom.
She followed.
“I don’t mean to kick you out of your home. I can get another hotel room.”
“I checked. Everything decent is booked solid. And I’d rather not have to go out in the middle of the night and rescue you again. I trust my neighbors; they’re not going to set the building on fire.”
“You weren’t even in bed when I called you.” She’d checked his room after he’d left last night. His bed had still been made up. Curiosity had always been her greatest weakness. “Had you just got in from a date?”
“No.”
She just managed to stop herself from fist-pumping the air. “Why can’t you stay here? The place is big enough. I promise to stay out of your way.” Damn, she was sounding desperate even to her own ears.
He grabbed a bag from his closet and haphazardly threw items inside. If she didn’t get his attention soon, he’d be gone and her future would be left in limbo. “My clothes smelled like smoke. I didn’t think you’d mind, so I put them in your washer. I took this shirt out of the dirty laundry to wear in the meantime.”
He paused. “You could have used a fresh one. Do you really think that I’d worry about you creating one more item for my housekeeper to clean?”
The one in the basket still smelled of him. Being surrounded by his scent was the only thing that had kept her from finishing off the whisky last night.
“Are you still a lawyer?” she asked.
He moved into the adjoining bathroom. “My license is current. But I’m not practicing anymore. If you need legal advice, I can recommend someone.”
“I want you.”
He tossed a shaving kit in the bag on his bed and then put his hands on his hips. “I just told you, I’m not practicing.”
“Yes. But if I hired you, what I have to tell you would be in confidence, and you wouldn’t be able to divulge it to anyone.”
His eyes narrowed. “I’m a lawyer. Not a priest. Try the building down the road.”
“It’s not a confession. Well, it is, sort of. But a cleric can’t help me. Only you can.”
He moved back into his walk-in closet and called over his shoulder, “For the third time, I’m not practicing. As soon as I finish helping Raul with his custody case, I’ll let my license lapse. I’m a property developer now.”
“If you’re making an exception for Raul, surely you can make one for me too,” she said when he reentered the bedroom. She ran her finger along the open neckline of the shirt she wore.
His fingers tightened on the ties he’d just taken from the wardrobe. “Raul is a friend.”
Direct hit. Well, they didn’t have to be friends for what she needed. “Please, Eduardo.” She called up all her performance experience. Men like Eduardo didn’t want desperate women. She tried again, injecting as much sultry temptress into her voice as she could. “I want you.”
He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, he looked anywhere but at her. “I’m no longer a lawyer, Anna. And I definitely can’t be your lawyer. We have history. Painful history. I couldn’t offer you objective legal advice even if I wanted to.”
She hauled in a deep breath. “I don’t need advice. I need your body.”
***
Every muscle in Eduardo reacted separately to Anna’s statement. His cock swelled. His arms tensed, ready to sweep his suitcase to the floor and reclaim his shirt from her. His brain, however—which thankfully had control for now—froze.
Opening the door to find Anna waiting, wearing one of his shirts, had been like having a thousand hot needles pierce his eyeballs. It was everything he’d once dreamed of but now couldn’t have. If she’d stayed all those years ago, if she hadn’t ripped out his heart and trampled his soul, this is what he could have looked forward to every day. Now, it was just cruel to flaunt lost dreams in his face. Especially after he’d rescued her. Twice.
“Explain.” The word came out harsh.
“Are we covered under lawyer-client confidentiality?” Her voice wavered, but her gaze remained firm.
“For God’s sake, Anna—”
“Are we covered?”
“Yes, dammit!”
She nibbled her bottom lip, further tilting his see-sawing reactions towards lust. But even if she wanted him, it was only temporary. And if—no, when—she left, it would hurt all over again. Who was he kidding? It never stopped hurting. That had to end now.
He needed to ignore her plea. Pack his bag and head to Tiago’s until he was sure she was out of the country. He owed her nothing. Even letting her stay here was more than she deserved. But somehow, he couldn’t bring himself to ask her to leave or even take her up on her offer to go to another hotel. Maybe he was a masochist, enjoying the pain she inflicted on him. Maybe he enjoyed knowing she was in his space, touching his things, even if he couldn’t, shouldn’t, wouldn’t touch her.
“I need help. Your help.” Her words were barely above a whisper, but when she raised her eyes to his, all he saw was determination.
He crossed his arms to stop from reaching for her. “What kind of help?”
She glanced around. “Can we talk in the sitting room?”
“You’re trying my patience, Anna. I’ve not slept or eaten or—”
She walked out of the bedroom! He was tempted to stay where he was and keep packing. But, like a lovesick puppy, he followed. He really should seek help for his Anna enchantment. Maybe he should be the one to visit the priest. Did they still do exorcisms?
“First, I need to tell you about my marriage,” she began as he joined her in the lounge.
He held his hands before him. No way. No how. Not ever. “I don’t want to hear it.” What kind of sadist was she? She had to know he’d never want to discuss her relationship with her sixty-five-year-old husband.
“I know what you’re thinking. It wasn’t like that. Simon was everything wonderful and nice.”
“I’m happy for you.” Add some soda to his bitter words and he’d have an aperitif.
She poured him a glass of whisky and pointed at the sofa. “Sit and listen.”
He placed the offering on the coffee table and stayed standing. He would not bow to her every command. “I’m not sure how your relationships with your other lawyers work, but this is not how I take instruction from my clients. If I still had clients. Which I don’t. Because I am no longer practicing.”
She shot him an exasperated look then began to pace the room. “Simon had three children by his first and second wives. They are each and every one of them parasites.”
And all are older than you.
She glared at him as though she’d read his thought. As much as he wanted to disavow any knowledge of her life in LA, her marriage to her much, much older manager had made headlines for weeks in both gossip magazines and the legitimate press. It’d been impossible to avoid.
“And Simon left the bulk of his estate to you with only minimal bequests to his children,” he said. “I can’t help you. Even if I practiced estate law, this whole drama is playing out in the United States. I can’t represent you there.”
“I know. I have a team of lawyers already countering their lawsuits claiming I trapped Simon into marriage and unduly influenced him regarding the distribution of his assets. His children are trying to have the will dismissed.”
“Then what do you want me for?”
She wrung her hands, and he felt the twist in his chest.
“My marriage was
based on friendship and mutual need. I have my own money and have never needed, or wanted, his. Simon trusted me to ensure that his vision for the future succeeded. His wealth is to be used to further his dreams, not the whims of his freeloading children.”
Eduardo nodded. He still couldn’t see where he was involved.
She turned away and stared out the window. “My stepchildren will seize every avenue to discredit my relationship with their father. If they find out my secret, not only will it give them the firepower they need, but it will also bring scandal and gossip to my life and Simon’s legacy.”
“What’s your secret?”
She moved to stand straight in front of him. Her warm scent of vanilla and cinnamon enveloped him. Her blue eyes stared into his, searching, seeking. For what, he didn’t know. But she must have found it.
“I’m still a virgin.”
He blinked. What the hell? She was an international singing sensation, not a nun. She’d been living in LA for almost ten years. Mierda, she’d been married for three. How was this even possible? Because if there was one thing Anna did not lack, it was passion. Or sexiness, for that matter. He’d been in a near-constant state of arousal since walking through the door twenty minutes ago.
Hold on. Hadn’t she said she needed his body? He reached around her and grabbed the whisky off the table, slinging it down his throat as though the liquid would illuminate the path to enlightenment.
Instead, it brought the unwelcome realization that Anna had waited for him.
He hadn’t done the same.
A hesitant smile played around her lips. “Are you going to say something?”
The whisky made his voice husky. “Are you asking me to take your virginity?”
“Yes.”
“Why? And why me? Seems you’d have a lot of men to choose from.”
She moved away, and he drew in a deep breath of Anna-free air. It didn’t help.
“I want to have relationships. Normal relationships that involve physical intimacy. But I can’t trust anyone with my secret. If word got out that Simon and I never consummated our marriage…”
“Anna, if you’re going to be intimate with a man, you need to be able to trust him. If you can’t trust, you shouldn’t be climbing into bed with him.” He ruthlessly shut down the image of Anna naked in another man’s arms.
“Why risk it when I know I can trust you? Plus, we have lawyer-client privilege.”
“I can’t sleep with a client. It’s unethical. I could be disbarred.”
She sauntered over to him, and he steeled himself. She didn’t disappoint. Resting one hand over his chest before sliding it up and around his neck, her fingers burrowing into the short hair at his nape, urging his head down towards hers. Her other hand slid around his waist, pulling herself flush against him. Every single cell in his body reacted as if he’d never been with a woman before. Well, not a woman like Anna, anyway.
“But we’ve already established that your days as a lawyer are at an end. What do you say, Edio?” Dammit, she didn’t play fair. She caressed his name, whispered it full of longing and passion. “Will you take me to bed? Be my first lover?”
Once, he’d wanted to be her first. And her last. Her only.
He pulled away before she lured him deeper under her spell—before he lost what little remained of his heart and his pride. She’d left him. Now she wanted to use him.
“I’ll think about it,” he said.
Her eyes widened at his reply but then narrowed again. “You’ll think about it? What’s to think about? You wanted me in the past.” She stared pointedly at his groin. “You want me now. This would be a way to close the chapter of us. Give it a good ending.”
Or it could ruin the rest of his story. “Unlike you, I make rational, well-thought-out decisions. I don’t sell my soul for the promise of fame and fortune.”
She turned away, but not before he saw a flash of hurt in her eyes. Dammit, he would not feel like a bastard for stating the obvious. She’d rescind her request now, and he’d be spared the agony of imagining the two of them together at last.
She turned back to him, however, and he saw determination in her face. “Think fast, then,” she said. “You’ve got two days to give me your answer.”
No matter how much he still desired her, he would not be manipulated.
But Dios, the temptation…
Chapter Four
Anna knew the minute Eduardo arrived at her grandmother’s funeral. A sense of calm, of rightness, of peace flowed through her despite the anguish of burying the woman who had loved her unconditionally.
There were only a dozen or so mourners in the church. After the debacle at the community center and the terror of the hotel fire, her staff had ‘leaked’ photos of her in Sweden. They’d been taken during her last visit there but had not been released at the time. Now her fans and the international media thought she was on the opposite side of the world.
Anna forced her brain to concentrate on the priest’s words as he enumerated the many blessings of life in heaven awaiting the pious like Marta Marquez. Anna’s thoughts were earthly. A day later and she was still trying to assimilate Eduardo’s reply to her request. He’d raced to his room, grabbed his half-packed bag, and shot out the door before she’d even pulled in a full breath.
She’d always thought that when she finally offered herself to a man, she’d be on her back before the words had escaped her lips. Trust Eduardo to be different. For a second, she’d thought maybe he didn’t want her. But his body didn’t lie, even if his mouth did.
She glanced across the aisle to see if he had joined Raul in the pew a few rows back. Eduardo’s driver had arrived at the apartment just as she’d been about to call a taxi. He’d brought his adorable little boy with him, both of them wearing black suits, explaining that if anyone were watching for her, arriving with a man and child would hopefully put them off the scent. For her part, she was dressed in a long-sleeved black dress and had her hair bundled under a wide-brimmed hat with a full veil. Not to mention the oversized sunglasses hiding her unusual eyes. She barely recognized herself.
A sad smile lifted her lips. Abuela would have appreciated the drama of her outfit. She’d always been a fashionable lady, even if she’d had the money to buy nice clothes only after Anna had ripped out her heart and sold her soul to the music industry.
The priest finally finished, and it was time for her to sing her grandmother’s favorite hymn. Her gaze skimmed over the small congregation. Her grandmother’s closest friends were all here. Anna’s mother, Abuela’s only child, wasn’t. Would Anna’s funeral be equally devoid of family, the church filled with people who cared only for what she had done for them?
As she began the first line of ‘On Eagle’s Wings,’ her gaze met Eduardo’s. Although the words were about the strength the Lord gave, he was the one she thought of. He was the one who’d inspired her, believed in her, lifted her up when she was down—loved her. Ironically, it had been that love, and the resulting courage and confidence, that had given her the strength to fulfill her dreams.
Eduardo looked away. Anna sang the rest of the hymn with her eyes on her abuela’s photo. The last note echoed in the church like a spirit delaying departure.
The first tear broke the dam, and the priest had to help her back to her seat. Her one glance upward confirmed what her heart already knew. Eduardo was gone. She heard nothing of the rest of the mass. She only knew it had ended when she was surrounded by a cluster of her grandmother’s friends, all crying as much as she was.
Abuela’s passing had been expected. She’d lived three times longer than the doctors had predicted when she’d first been diagnosed with cancer. Mostly, Anna suspected, because Abuela loved to prove people wrong.
Now her grandmother was free of pain, but it seemed to have transferred to her granddaughter instead. Anna pulled in an unsteady breath at the same time a large, warm hand settled on the center of her back. Had the touch been accompanied by tingl
es, she would know it was Eduardo.
She turned slightly and smiled as best she could at Raul. “I will be waiting by the door when you are ready to leave,” he said quietly.
“Where’s Timo?” She looked around but couldn’t see the little boy.
“Señor Forenza took him outside. He was restless.”
Who was restless, Eduardo or Timo? Before she could ask, her grandmother’s closest friend put a hand on Anna’s arm.
“Take your time,” Raul said before slipping away.
“She loved you very much and was so proud of what you achieved,” Eva Vasquez said. “Although she didn’t like your husband. She always hoped you’d get back together with that Eduardo. Was that who you were looking at during the hymn? Now he is a man worthy of you.”
Ah, the candor of the aged. You could always rely on them to tell it like it was. Anna ignored the comment. It wasn’t anything her grandma hadn’t told her personally. Numerous times.
Anna attempted a smile. “I wish I had been here to hold her hand in the end.”
The grip on her arm tightened. “Don’t torture yourself with what can’t be changed. Marta wouldn’t have known if you were there or not. She was sedated beyond comprehension in the last ten days.”
“At least she wasn’t in pain.” Anna said the words, although they gave no comfort. She should have made the time, should have canceled her last appearance and missed the court date to be at her grandmother’s bedside.
“All she ever wanted was for you to be happy, Anna. It’s what we all want.” Eva gestured at the other women arranged around her like a geriatric intervention. “Either start again, with a young man this time, or fix what must be mended from the past. But don’t put your singing before love. You’re a smart girl. Don’t make the same mistake again.” A pat on the cheek accompanied these last pearls of wisdom.
If Anna’s ego ever inflated, she knew where to come to get a grip on reality. Her gaze swept to the back of the church, but Eduardo was truly gone. Only Raul stood there, looking like the church bouncer.
Sitting alone in Eduardo’s apartment the night before, she’d let herself dream that he’d stride back through the door and, without words, sweep her into his arms, carry her tenderly to his room, and make love to her all afternoon and well into the evening. Then, when they were both too satiated to move, he’d look into her eyes and tell her that he’d never stopped loving her and he would never let her go.