The Latin Lover

by Lucy Monroe

  Alejandro reeled off the balance—a six-figure sum that had Leah thinking she’d misheard, blowing all thought of covering it with a second mortgage. ‘Oh, my God! There’s no way I’ll ever get that amount together in forty-eight days, let alone in forty-eight hours.’

  He let the full impact of her dilemma sink in, his fingers idly spinning the stem of his wine glass, not needing to drink the fine vintage when victory was almost at hand and tasted so much better. ‘There is, of course,’ he said at last, pausing for effect, ‘one way.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE words hung in the air between them, heavy and dripping with unspoken meaning, while cold fingers tracked a spidery path up her back. She sat there, her spine rigid, facing a man so good-looking he could be the devil himself. Was this, then, the moment she was required to sell her soul?

  ‘Which is?’

  ‘Reconsider your decision. I will bail out your brother if you agree to come back to me.’

  Leah squeezed her eyes shut. Of course. That was what this was all about. She’d been a fool to think that Alejandro would let her walk away again—a fool to think that Alejandro would let her off the hook. If she’d thought for a moment that he cared, that he felt something for her, it would be so different. But there was nothing in his words or his actions so far that indicated he thought of her as anything but an object he wanted and couldn’t have. And with Jordan’s financial troubles he’d found the chink in her armour, and he intended exploiting it for all it was worth.

  ‘So that’s what this charade of a meal is all about—drip-feeding me information about my brother’s situation, letting me know what desperate straits he’s in, so ultimately you can blackmail me into coming back to you, regardless of the fact it’s the last thing I want to do.’

  His eyes grew cold, his gaze unrelenting as he pushed himself back in his chair. ‘Consider it a business proposition, if you will. Your services in exchange for your brother’s debts, paid in full.’

  A business proposition. How very Alejandro that was.

  ‘You seem to conveniently forget I have my own business to run. Just how long would my “services”, as you so charmingly put it, be required?’

  One side of his mouth lifted, as if sensing victory. ‘It’s a considerable amount of money. I should think it will take as long as it takes.’

  Everything was loaded Alejandro’s way. Every damn thing and he knew it. And now he expected her to fall in with his plans like the good little mistress he wanted in his bed.

  Well, damn him, he wasn’t going to have everything his own way. She would not be blackmailed into going back to him—as much as she wanted to help her brother, and as much as the prospect of an easy fix held a certain appeal. She could not go back to Alejandro. She just couldn’t.

  She’d find another way to help Jordan. She didn’t know how, but she still had forty-eight hours to come up with something, and until she’d exhausted the banks and legitimate finance companies, had scraped up anything she could against her bedsit, and hocked every last piece of her jewellery, she wasn’t giving up. She’d raise the money somehow.

  She squared her shoulders to deliver her verdict, feeling more empowered than she had all day. ‘I’m sorry, Alejandro, there is nothing to reconsider. Our time is past. I’m not coming back to you.’

  He made a sound like a growl, deep down in his throat, his eyes boring into hers like a predator held back from its kill, unable to give up the carcass that was his. A tremor moved through her, but whether it was from the intensity of his gaze or the realisation of what she’d just done, she didn’t know. His eyes narrowed.

  ‘You turn down the only lifeline your brother has? You yourself have just said that there is no way you can get the money together. I thought you cared for your brother.’

  ‘I do care about Jordan.’ But she cared about herself too, and self-preservation was a powerful motivator. She hadn’t spent the two months since leaving Alejandro, telling herself—convincing herself—that she was becoming stronger and more independent by the day to give it all away now. There had to be another answer to Jordan’s money woes, one that didn’t involve her becoming some rich man’s plaything, and she’d find it. ‘But I’ll work out a solution. I’m certainly not about to be railroaded into one that suits you.’

  ‘You have no time!’

  ‘I said I’ll find a way!’

  His eyes glinted at her dangerously as he contemplated her over his swirling wine glass, before downing the contents. The crystal base hit the table with a thump. ‘Why do you make this so difficult? All I’m doing is trying to help you.’

  ‘No, you’re not. You’re trying to help yourself, like you always do. You don’t care one bit about me or my brother, otherwise you’d offer to pay off his loan with no conditions, no ties. It’s not like you can’t afford to.’

  He brushed her words aside. ‘My wealth has nothing to do with this.’

  ‘It does if you use it to blackmail me.’

  He stared at her for some seconds, his fury at her refusal to accept his deal vividly portrayed on his features, turning his olive Mediterranean skin even darker. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he growled at last. ‘Perhaps it is better this way. Please excuse me while I make this call.’ He snapped open a mobile phone, pressed a few rapid-fire buttons, and held it to his ear.

  Something about the change in his mood struck her as wrong, setting off a new round of concerns. Alejandro would never admit she was right.

  ‘Who are you calling?’

  ‘I’m simply calling off my dogs. You don’t require my protection for your brother any more. You have a better idea. Isn’t that right?’ He turned his head away, as if focusing on the call, waiting for it to connect.

  A spear of panic skewered her thoughts, setting her senses into disarray. She’d wanted him to realise she was more than just another pawn on his corporate chessboard, another mere provider of ‘services’, but the knowledge that her brother would lose his protection made her stand look all the more rickety. ‘So you would abandon my brother—throw him to the wolves—just like that?’

  His head swivelled back until his eyes locked once again on her own. ‘That’s unfair. I don’t think it’s me throwing your brother to the wolves, do you?’

  ‘But you could keep your people there, just long enough…’

  ‘It’s not necessary.’

  ‘But what if—?’

  ‘Someone comes looking for their money a little earlier?’ he finished for her. ‘Surely you’ve already factored that into your decision-making?’

  ‘You can’t suddenly leave my brother unprotected!’

  ‘I can,’ he said. ‘But can you?’

  Whoever he was calling obviously picked up, and Alejandro started talking in his own language so rapidly that she could only make sense of the odd word or two. But she heard her brother’s name, and she had no reason to doubt he was doing exactly what he’d threatened he’d do—he was calling off his men and leaving Jordan to the criminals he’d been foolish enough to borrow money from. Her heart was beating too fast for its own good, her hands were clammy and cold, and the moral victory that had left her feeling so superior just seconds ago had turned to dust.

  ‘You bastard,’ she muttered as he continued the one-sided conversation. Why hadn’t he simply let her go when she’d exited his life so recently? Why did he have to come back now, when her brother was so vulnerable and she along with him? And why, after everything he’d done, after every conniving trick to get her back in his bed, did she still want him so badly that it physically hurt? ‘I hate you.’

  He covered the phone with his free hand, his head angled towards her. ‘You said something?’

  She sent him a look that by rights should have melted the phone clear out of his hands. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

  His head tilted, his brows drawing together, and there was a gleam in his eyes that hadn’t been there for a while. A gleam of victory that made her feel sick to the sto
mach. ‘I didn’t hear you. What did you say?’

  She swallowed, but it did nothing to quell the thumping of her heart or the churning in her gut. ‘I said I’ve changed my mind. There’s no need to call off your security. Tell whoever it is that you’re paying off Jordan’s debt and I’ll do whatever you want. I…I’ll come back to you.’

  He barked a brief set of instructions into the phone and snapped it closed. Their entrées arrived in the silence that followed, their glasses were topped up and the odd word was exchanged with the waiter, while all the while his eyes never left hers. Success coursed around his bloodstream like a drug, powered by a thumping heart and fuelling his body, kicking his libido into overdrive.

  He had her!

  And his victory was all the sweeter for the frustrations of the quest. Why had she resisted him so much? Why had she fought off his advances for so long, pretending she didn’t want him? For it had been clear from the moment he’d entered her small shop that she still burned for him, still felt that powerful kick in the guts on seeing him that he felt on seeing her, that kick that had led to the best sex he’d ever had.

  And would now enjoy again.

  Better still, this time he would be the one to decide when it would end.

  ‘To us,’ he said, raising his glass to her in a toast. ‘To successful negotiations.’

  She held up her glass, her fingers white-knuckled around the stem, but she didn’t sip from it. ‘Successful blackmail, you mean?’

  He allowed himself a laugh, admiring her spirit even after such a marathon struggle. It had taken longer, much longer, than he had imagined it would to convince her to come back to him. The barriers around her were like the defences of a walled city, seemingly impenetrable, almost impossible to breach. It had taken his own version of the Trojan Horse to get through those defences, but once it had the city had fallen and the prize—Leah—was his.

  ‘Don’t waste your energy on fighting,’ he told her. ‘You will need your strength later tonight.’

  Tonight? So soon? The muscles in her thighs clamped down tight. Oh, God, had she really agreed to this? ‘But surely you can’t expect me to fulfil my end of the bargain yet?’ she countered, searching for something to cling to, searching for anything that might delay the inevitable. For a moment she thought she had. ‘Until I have proof that Jordan’s debt has been paid off. And I need to hear it from him.’

  He surveyed her over the rim of his swirling glass. Then he nodded. ‘Sí, of course you are right. I will have your brother call you to assure you everything has been taken care of.’

  She scoffed, shaking her head. ‘That’s not possible. It’s already past nine o’clock. Even if you wanted to, there’s no way you can fix this tonight. Nobody’s going to do business with you at this hour.’

  ‘May I remind you,’ he suggested as he snapped out his phone again and thumbed in a code, ‘that the people your brother is entangled with are not your regular businessmen? One sniff of getting their money back and they will come running.’ Another rapid-fire instruction was directed into the phone, another all too confident smile was directed her way before he put the phone down.

  ‘And now, in the meantime,’ he added, gesturing towards her plate, ‘eat.’

  The delicate Asian scent of ginger and herbs had been wafting up from her plate of succulent fish cutlets, tantalising and enticing, but still she couldn’t bring herself to do more than toy with her food, barely registering the subtle and expert combinations of flavours. Alejandro was so confident he could pull this deal off tonight. How could he be so sure? And how could she think about food when so much was at stake? Not just Jordan’s future. Her future.

  Scant moments later his mobile phone rang. Leah sat stiffly, her neglected entrée forgotten, while Alejandro excused himself and took the call, his eyes fixing on hers. ‘It’s your brother,’ he said, handing over the phone. ‘He wants to tell you something.’

  Leah grabbed the phone as if it was a lifeline and turned away from the searing gaze opposite. ‘Jordan, are you okay?’

  Her brother’s easygoing voice sounded down the line. ‘Sis, of course I’m all right. Alejandro just saved my skin.’

  ‘You mean the loan is paid off—the whole thing?’

  ‘It’s all settled. Hey, sis, that guy must really have the hots for you to do what he did. I thought you guys were through?’

  Leah dragged in air and squeezed her eyes shut, resting her head on her hand. They had been through. They still were. But somehow things had got so complicated…

  ‘Give Alejandro my thanks,’ she heard her brother say, and it was too much.

  ‘Maybe you should tell him that yourself,’ she battled to get out, finally thrusting the phone back into Alejandro’s hands before her voice gave way entirely.

  So it was official. She’d made a deal with the devil and now there was no going back. Now it was time for the devil to collect his due.

  ‘Eat,’ Alejandro urged again, when he’d terminated the call. And she knew that she needed to, and that he was right. But how could she think about her stomach when she knew that later tonight she would once again be making love with him?

  Making love with Alejandro.

  Anticipation crashed over her like a wave, leaving her skin tingling, her breasts aching for release from their silken halter. She was wearing nothing underneath, not a stitch of underwear, and never had she been more aware of it as the fabric caressed her skin, never had her desire been more acute. Because she could admit it now, could admit the one thing she’d been denying, repressing, the one thing she’d been lying about.

  She still wanted him.

  And now there was nothing stopping her. Now everything she’d bottled up tight and contained was let loose, unfurling inside her like a genie escaped from a bottle, promising her all kinds of magic and all manner of wicked pleasure.

  How was she supposed to think about eating when her body was focusing on other more sinful pleasures?

  ‘You don’t like your fish?’

  ‘It’s perfect.’ And it probably had been long ago, when it was served, and likely was still so, the tiny slivers of ginger and spring onion coiled artistically over the plump white fish, drizzled with a sesame oil and soy glaze. If only she could eat it.

  ‘Mine is superb,’ he said of his plate of Moreton Bay bugs. ‘Here—try one.’ He removed a chunk from one of the miniature crustaceans with his fork and lifted it to her mouth.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said, still thrown by this latest development and attempting to brush away his offer with one hand. ‘You have it.’

  ‘Try it,’ he pressed, holding the fork to her lips, and there was suddenly something so compelling in his eyes, something so insistent in his tone, that she had no choice but to acquiesce.

  She opened her mouth and received the seafood, closing her lips over the morsel as he slowly withdrew the fork—his fork. She shuddered at the intimacy of the gesture as she bit into the tender seafood, the combination of chilli and lime dressing complementing the sweet white meat.

  He smiled, his eyes alive with pleasure, the kind of pleasure that kicked her pulse into overdrive. ‘You see,’ he announced, his eyes never leaving her own. ‘Superb.’

  ‘It’s very good,’ she agreed, her senses buzzing. He was playing the game he played so well. Smooth seduction and potent masculinity all combining into the promise of sex. He was a master at it.

  ‘Yours?’ he asked, his intention plain.

  She forked a piece of the white flesh and lifted it towards him, aware his eyes were aimed at her the whole time. He surprised her by cupping her hand with his own, an electric touch that sparked heat way low down in her belly, and guiding her hand to his passionate slash of a mouth. She’d always loved his lips, their sweep of curves and sculpted points, their ability to portray emotion. Most of all she’d loved them for the way they felt upon her skin. And right now those lips parted, accepting her gift, and she could just about feel them, could all but t
aste them. Could feel herself wanting to…

  ‘Perfection,’ he declared, without letting go of her hand.

  But she’d had enough of playing his games. Anticipation was one thing. The act itself infinitely preferable. And now that she knew Jordan was safe, Alejandro’s part of the deal satisfied on that score, there was nothing to stop her satisfying hers. It was time to throw out her own challenge.

  ‘Better than sex?’

  He smiled, a knowing smile that set off a chain reaction inside her. ‘You know better than to ask that of me,’ he said, relieving her of the fork and dipping his mouth to her wrist, pressing its warmth to her skin, reading her pulse with his lips. ‘Nothing is better than sex.’

  If he’d been attuned, she thought, if he’d been able to read her heart with his mouth, he would know he was wrong. Because for all the wonders of sex there was one feeling more potent, one emotion worth more. There was nothing better than love.

  And yet nothing worse.

  But her path was clear, the decision she’d been forced to take tonight having given her the green light. If she couldn’t have his love she’d take the sex. At least it was something.

  She smiled, and for probably the first time tonight really meant it. ‘So what are you waiting for?’

  Something swirled across his blacker-than-night eyes, and then he was on his feet, pulling her out of her chair. ‘We’re leaving,’ he said, thrusting a wad of notes at the flustered maître d’.

  ‘You have barely touched your entrées,’ he protested. ‘Was something wrong?’

  ‘Everything was perfect,’ Alejandro assured him, bundling her towards the exit, a man on a mission. ‘I have business to attend to.’

  ‘What business is this?’ she joked breathlessly as he wrenched open the door. His acceptance of her challenge had taken her unawares, but it was the speed at which he’d moved that fed the thrill of knowing it wasn’t just her that burned.