by Alexia Adams
“Can I ask one thing of you?” she whispered.
The hairs on his nape stood on end. “You can ask.” At least his inner lawyer hadn’t entirely abandoned him.
“Will you kiss me? Just once. I need to know if it is as good as I remember, or if I’ve just imagined the bliss.”
A logical request. And one he’d contemplated more than once in the dark of the night in his lonely bed. Neither the lawyer nor the romantic within him offered any input. They were curious as well.
He stood so he was in the position of power, able to walk away if necessary. “For the record, I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Noted.” Her hands were already on his bare chest, slowly inching their way up. He shivered as her fingers skimmed over his collarbone. Her gaze shot to his. “I want to kiss your injury.”
“Another bad idea,” he murmured but did nothing to stop her as she slid the shirt from his shoulders. He flung it off, tossing it towards the sofa where she’d sung of everything they’d lost. The night air cooled his overheated skin.
“Noted again.” This time when her fingers flitted up his chest, her touch was electric, energizing every nerve ending, sending jolts of electricity south to his groin. “Your body is amazing.” Her whisper against his skin flash-fried any resistance his common sense attempted to mount in defense.
He held himself rigid under the sensuous torture of her lips and tongue as they worked their way from one end of his clavicle to the other.
“Anna…” Dios. Was that his voice?
Her answer was to pull his head down and touch his lips with hers. For an eternity, she kept still and just rested their mouths together. Then her tongue traced the seam of his lips, and it was more than he could resist.
His hands reached for her hips and he pulled her against him. Ten years melted away. Except now the eagerness of youth was enhanced with experience. A sigh escaped. A moan of pleasure. Heartbeats accelerated, and touches became more insistent, more frantic.
Finally, they broke apart, their chests heaving. The dazed look in Anna’s eyes was surely reflected in his.
Damn. This was not good.
Chapter Seven
It would have been so much easier if the embrace had been mediocre. If she’d built up the—well, there was no other word for it—awesomeness in her mind. If Eduardo didn’t make every cell in her body light up like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. But he did.
Worse. Only he did.
He’d been the first boy to kiss her. But since then she’d had dozens of men try. Some physically more attractive, models and Hollywood heartthrobs; many musicians with whom she shared a kindred spirit; many actors with whom she’d shared romantic scenes in her videos. Not a single one compared to the way Eduardo made her feel.
The way he made her feel too much.
“Well, that answers that question,” she said. “Not the answer either of us had hoped for, I’m guessing.”
“Like I said, bad idea.”
She huffed out a laugh. At least Eduardo looked like the rug had been yanked out from beneath him as well. “Yeah. But it had to be done.”
“Did it?” He ran his hands through his hair, and she rubbed her fingers together, remembering the silkiness. “Are we any better off? Nothing can come of this … this chemistry between us.”
And that was probably one of the world’s great tragedies. They could be burning up the sheets, making each other feel amazing. Instead they stood on a terrace in the dark, throbbing with need, heading to their own separate beds.
“I know.” She ran the heel of her palm over her sternum. “I’d better get to sleep or I’ll shock everyone with the way I look tomorrow. Last thing I need is photos of me looking a mess being leaked to the press.”
“Why would that be so bad? Is looking beautiful the only thing that matters to you?”
“No, of course not. It’s the speculation about why I’m a mess that does my head in. Is it drugs? Alcohol? Six men and a hairy he-goat in my bed the previous night?”
“Really? Ménage and bestiality at the same time?”
“The tabloid press have vivid imaginations.”
“Well, you don’t have to worry about photos being leaked as long as you’re here. Tiago’s staff are very discreet, and they’ve been warned that if anyone even hints you’re in residence, they will be instantly dismissed and prosecuted.”
“Harsh.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
She wiped both hands over her face. Even then she could still feel where Eduardo’s fingers had touched her cheeks. “I know. I’m just tired and on edge. Thank you.”
He nodded, but his movements were stilted, like he was holding onto his control by a fingernail. “I’ll have someone go into town tomorrow to buy some clothes for us. If you can make a list of anything else you need or want, it would be helpful.”
“How long do you think we’ll be here?”
“Expect to stay at least a week. Maybe two.”
“Two weeks? I can’t disappear that long. The press will have a field day.”
“Dios! Someone is trying to kill one of us, and all you can think about is what the media will report.”
“I’ve given ten years of my life and sacrificed everything for my career. So, yeah, I’m a little concerned about things that will affect it.” It was all she had now. Possibly all she’d ever have, given that Eduardo was the only one who could turn off her let-me-just-overthink-this button with a simple kiss.
“I’m no happier than you. I’ve got properties to investigate and contracts to negotiate. But if we don’t stay here, the media may be reporting one of our deaths.”
That put it into perspective. “Fine. I’ll have my admin team release more photos of me in various European cities so everyone thinks I’m holidaying there.”
“Good idea. Just don’t tell them where you really are. Be brief and use the house phone, not your cell, when you call. Tiago has a secure line in his home office. And make sure the location service is turned off on all your devices. That won’t slow down a professional hit man, but why make it easier for them?”
“I will. Good night then, Eduardo.”
He seemed about to say something but instead clenched his hands into fists at his side. “Don’t forget your guitar,” he finally managed.
“I wouldn’t ever forget it.” She snagged the instrument and fled upstairs to her room. Her grip on the fingerboard tight enough to embed string marks on her palm. What did she expect? That he’d declare his love and his desire to follow her around the world as she toured and lived out her dreams, just because they’d kissed again?
She wrote out her shopping list and slipped it under Eduardo’s bedroom door. No light escaped the portal. Had he come up and gone straight to sleep? Or was he still down on the terrace, rooted to the spot where, for a few brief minutes, they’d time-traveled back ten years?
She slid between her own sheets. Regret, her constant companion, gave her the cold shoulder.
It was bright when she woke. The mountains in the distance stood like sentinels. Today she was going to pull it all together and formulate a plan. She couldn’t stay here with Eduardo for two weeks and maintain any semblance of indifference. She could just as easily hide out in America. Perhaps one of the elite commandos Eduardo had hired to guard the place could escort her back to LA. The only good thing she could say about the current situation was that it had awakened her muse. She needed to get these emotions on paper before they festered inside her.
Yes, that’s what she needed to do: get back to work. She’d find Eduardo and tell him of her decision. Right after breakfast. Or, glancing at the clock, lunch, since it was nearly noon. At least the bags under her eyes had been unpacked. Seven hours of sleep was a new record for her.
A shower restored more of her mental alertness. And despite Eduardo’s assurance that the staff wouldn’t take photos of her, she carefully applied the little bit of makeup she carried in her hand
bag. Her hair she pulled again into a high ponytail, liking the instant energy it brought to her appearance. Undoubtedly, he would try to talk her out of leaving; she needed to look her best to give her the confidence to battle on an equal footing.
After a quick sandwich in the kitchen, eaten while the cook regaled her with stories of a niece who had posters of Angel plastered all over her room, Anna went in search of Eduardo. He’d said the home office was on the third floor, so that seemed the most likely place to find him.
His voice was muffled through the wood-paneled door. She knocked in case he was in a meeting or on a private phone call, but his “enter” came almost immediately.
She pushed open the door and came to an abrupt halt. Her jaw joined her internal organs on the floor. Eduardo was naked from the waist up, his pants hanging low on his ass. Another man was dabbing something on the millions of lacerations on Eduardo’s back. As he turned his head, exhaustion and pain were clearly etched on his too-handsome face, and there was a worrying pallor to his skin. Still, a small smile creased his lips as his gaze swept her up and down. She’d pulled on pair of her absent hostess’s white capris and a navy blue crop top, leaving her stomach visible.
“I thought you were the housekeeper,” Eduardo said by way of greeting. “I asked her to get a new shirt for me.” He tilted his head towards the man still dabbing antiseptic on his wounds. “This is Dr. Salvio. Doctor, this is Anna Marquez.”
The physician spared her a quick glance but made no sign he recognized her as anyone special. Which, today, she wasn’t. Guilt ate a hole in her stomach while that organ bungee-jumped within her. She’d been so caught up in her own situation that she’d neglected to realize Eduardo was seriously hurt.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were badly injured?” Damn the man. Was he so intent on keeping her shut out of his life he couldn’t even share this with her? She blinked back the ridiculous moisture gathering in her eyes.
“Raul dressed the cuts yesterday after we arrived. I called the doctor today only out of an abundance of caution. I’ll be no good at protecting you if I’m delirious with an infection-induced fever.”
“Forget protecting me. You need to look after yourself.”
Another knock sounded on the still-open door; the housekeeper held up a brown button-up shirt on a hanger.
“Gracias, Rosa. Please put it on the sofa,” Eduardo said.
As the woman moved to do as he asked, Anna took in the rest of the room. Dark wood paneling and a burgundy leather sofa declared this a masculine domain. But the cream curtains, throw pillows, and a few silver-framed family photos spoke of a feminine influence. Right now, along with Eduardo’s shirt, bags from various chain stores littered the sofa’s cushions.
“There’s your new wardrobe. Sorry, no designer stuff. Purchases in high-end stores would have aroused suspicion. Slumming it in regular clothes won’t hurt you for a week or two.”
If he weren’t injured before, he would be now. She strode towards him. “How dare you—”
“Easy, querida…” His cheeky grin turned into a wince as the doctor treated a particularly deep cut. “I only said that because I much prefer the fire in your eyes.”
Bastard. She turned back to the sofa to rummage through the bags. T-shirts, jeans, a couple of long skirts, and a few silky tops. She pulled out a maxi dress with a bold geometric pattern in red and yellow. Angel’s personal shopper would never have chosen any of these items. Which made them even better. Having spent years being told what to wear to keep her image intact, breaking free and wearing things just because they were pretty was liberating.
“Everything is perfect. Who do I owe and how much?”
“We’ll settle accounts at the end of your stay.”
That sounded ominous. The last line to the song ‘Hotel California’ flitted through her mind. She could check out anytime, but would she be allowed to leave?
“There,” the doctor said as he taped the last bandage in place. “Keep the area dry, take the antibiotics I gave you, and try to sleep. You won’t heal if you keep pushing yourself. I’ll check on you in two days.”
Eduardo refastened his pants then moved over to the sofa, reaching past her to snag the shirt the housekeeper had left there. He shrugged it on, his face paling even more as it pulled across his back, making the dark shadows under his eyes more prominent. He didn’t bother to button it.
“When’s the last time you slept?” she demanded after the doctor left.
A self-depreciating laugh escaped Eduardo’s lips. “When did you arrive back in my life?”
“You haven’t slept since Monday?”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind.”
She pulled in a deep breath. History was about to repeat itself—he was injured and she was leaving. But it had to be done. “Let me eliminate one worry. I want to go back to America.” He opened his mouth, and she put up a hand. “Hear me out first. You say you’ve got an elite team of commandos surrounding this place. Well, assign one or two to escort me back to LA. I’ll hire a private plane and have a security team meet us in the States. They can look after me from there. I’ll cover all the expenses. That way, if it’s discovered that I’m the target, you won’t have to put your life on hold any longer. And in the meantime, I can get back to work.”
“No.”
“Excuse me? When were you appointed my overlord?”
“The first time I met your grandmother.” He started to cross his arms over his chest but, with a grimace, settled for shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jeans.
“Explain.”
“Do you remember the day you brought me home to meet your family?”
“Of course.” She’d been so excited, clutching his hand with both of hers and smiling up at him as though he were her whole world.
“Do you remember your grandmother sending you out to buy some cola?”
“Yeah.” To have pop had been a rarity. But her first boyfriend was considered worthy of a celebration. Except in her mother’s eyes. The next day she’d been marched down to the clinic and put on a contraceptive pill. Madre was not going to have Anna repeating her mistake.
“While you were out, your grandmother sat me down and said that as you had no father in your life, my role as your first boyfriend was crucial. She said the way I treated you would be the benchmark for all future relationships you had with men. If I treated you well, cared for you, protected you, and didn’t allow my own desires to come before what was best for you, every man you met afterward would have to live up to the same standards. It was a hell of a load to bear, but for you, I was willing to take on that responsibility—even though I naïvely assured your grandmother that I was going to be the only man in your life. She made me swear on your life that I would protect you, even from myself.”
“Is that why you wouldn’t make love to me when we were teens?”
“Yes.”
She pulled in a deep breath despite a tight chest. “Abuela’s dead now. You’re released from your vow.”
A wry smile twisted his lips. “And yet here I am, still wanting to protect you. Except now it seems to be from yourself. There was no release clause in my vow to your grandmother. I promised forever.”
“I’m no longer fifteen, Eduardo. I thank you for your service, but your time as protector and boyfriend role model is over. I’m going back to America.”
He glanced out the window for a moment. “What if I told you that I’ve rethought my position on helping you with your … problem?”
“You’re willing to have sex with me?”
“Yes. If the offer is still open.”
Like that door was ever going to close.
But she wouldn’t appear too eager. “What about your promise to my abuela?”
“Let’s just say, I’ve managed to convince myself that if you’re going to take lovers, I should at least show you how a woman should be respected and treated. It will be my one last role to model.”
She’d
got what she wanted. The key would be not wanting beyond that.
***
“When? Tonight?” The eagerness in Anna’s face accelerated his heart rate.
But his hunger was tempered. He’d never been anyone’s first.
“No. Not tonight. I don’t want my injuries to hinder my performance and thus your pleasure. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it right. I’m not going to bend you over this desk and take you with my pants around my ankles.”
A fire lit in her eyes, corresponding to a heat within him. “Shame. I was looking forward to some reckless passion.”
“Passion, yes. Reckless, no.” At least not the first time.
Fool, it’s supposed to be just the once.
But not even his stern lawyer side could promise that when eventually he had her naked, he’d have her only the one time. If he was to be the role model for her future lovers, he’d have to do a thorough job. Even if his gut churned at the thought of her sleeping with other men.
“Well, this had better not be some ploy just to keep me here. If you don’t make love to me by Sunday, then I’m gone. And I’ll send my grandmother back to haunt you.”
“She’d have to get in line.”
Anna tilted her head but let the comment pass. “I do have one more request.” She tossed the dress she’d been crushing in her hands for the past ten minutes back onto the pile of clothes. He couldn’t wait to see her wear “regular people” clothes. Then she’d really be back to his Anna. Dios, he needed to stop thinking this way.
“What’s your request?” The lawyer side of him was finally waking up.
“While we’re waiting for you to heal, we…”
“We what?”
“We go back to the way it used to be between us. We hold hands and touch each other and kiss and take things close to the edge. That way, when we do make love, it won’t be so … clinical.”
His bark of laughter held no humor. “If you think my lovemaking will be clinical, let me set the record straight right now. I will have you writhing with passion, moaning my name, screaming as you climax.”