Savage: Unapologetic

by Pamela Ann

  Chapter Eleven

  Packed and ready, I was beyond excited for my eleven-hour flight to Madrid. From there, I had to catch a connecting flight to Barcelona, then another short one to Minorca.

  River had to leave yesterday for an award show in Las Vegas so we already said our goodbyes. Kells had to fly out to the Caribbean from New York, but she had called and wished me well on this new adventure.

  Beyond saddened to leave home again, the prospect of working on a major production thrilled me to no end. This was entirely a whole new level for me. I was sure the demanding hours would test me at all fronts, yet I was ready to put myself to work. Embodying a new role took a lot of effort. And after two years of working on my skills, I knew this role would surely make or break me.

  It was a thrilling prospect—to be pushed to the edge.

  It was nightfall when I arrived on the beautiful island. It was hot, though the sun wasn’t out. The first couple of weeks would be filmed around the area of Cala Galdana. There would be a few more locations to shoot around the island, but that was the main place. I came in a few days early, wanting to be prepared and not too overwhelmed by being in a new country and the jet lag… I wanted to scout and get the feel of things.

  The crew had already been here for a couple of weeks now, so I wasn’t completely alone. I intended to have a hot shower, order room service, then spend the rest of the evening going over the manuscript. I should’ve done more effort before leaving, but I had a chance to gloss over it.

  My dreams were coming true, one by one, slowly but surely. It had been happening at such a rate that it took a bit of convincing—on my part mostly—that this project chose me because it was my due, and not because of my association with River.

  The hotel was situated right on the beach, on a beautifully scenic cove. Though from the view of my hotel room, the sand was almost pure white, quite different from the ones I was used to in Santa Monica. I knew why this location was chosen. It was truly breathtaking. It gave off that pristine ambiance, still untouched, unblemished from commercial development.

  Everyone was staying in this charming boutique beachfront hotel. We occupied two floors. One floor catered to the cast and the second was for the entire crew. My room was a one-bedroom suite. A king-sized bed, a Spartan sofa, and a lot of dark wood and earth tone accents. It also had a beautifully laid out brown tiled bathroom with a massive bathtub. What I adored was the gorgeous view from the balcony.

  I breathed in the sweet, salty air, excited to meet everyone tomorrow. And just as I happily twirled around the room, there was a loud knock at the door, pausing my joyous demeanor.

  I halted and blinked a few times just to make sure I wasn’t hearing things. Then another loud rap came, vanishing any doubts.

  Who could this be? It can’t be River … or could it?

  Barefoot with my electric blue painted toes, I tiptoed towards the door with a massive grin already forming on my face.

  Gripping the handle, I yanked the door open and was greeted by a complete stranger.

  “Hola!” the tall dark, very tanned, handsome man welcomed me with such warm enthusiasm that I felt bad for staring at him blankly. “I’m Juan Torres. I heard you arrived today. I was wondering if you could join me for dinner since, you know, we’ll be spending a lot of time together. I think it’s good that we get over the awkwardness now than later,” he drawled with a heavy Spanish, accented English that reminded me so much of Enrique Iglesias. A sexy sound that did all sorts of things to a woman’s anatomy. It couldn’t be denied that it gave his appeal another level of sexiness.

  His wavy locks that came down to his chin were wet, as if he had just come out of the shower, framing his chiseled face to perfection.

  Was this how they bred men around here? Goodness gracious me …

  My throat ran dry.

  This was the man I would be filming with almost daily? His pictures didn’t do him justice. Satan sure was having a field day with me.

  Feeling conscious in my simple jeans and white top, I stared at Juan Torres with guarded reservation. “Dinner?” I croaked out.

  When was the last time I ate? Come to think of it, I couldn’t remember. My palms began to sweat as I tried to smile at this newly acquired acquaintance.

  Should I invite him in or would that come across as forward? This was another country with a different set of rules. I didn’t want to come across rude or too wild. I guessed the best bet was for this guy to stay where he was.

  “Sí. I was informed you checked in. This is my country, and I feel it my obligation to properly welcome you.” He grinned, showing an even smile lighting his face up. “We’ll talk over dinner. There’s a restaurant close by. You might like it. You know Spanish food?”

  I knew tacos and burritos, but that’s Mexican. Spanish food? I had no fucking clue what that entailed. Did that make me ignorant? As much as I loved food, I hadn’t been all that adventurous about it. Something told me that the duration of my stay here would fix that problem.

  Placing my hands in my pocket, I appeared calm and laidback, though I felt the opposite.

  Juan Torres had that compelling energy about him. The kind that drew people in. It wasn’t merely about his dark good looks but the way his eyes penetrated you when he directed his attention to you and in the way he spoke. It was as if all you wanted to do was lean in and hear him drawl in that accented voice of his.

  Yes, unsettling was putting it mildly.

  It was perturbing on how I was reacting to this stranger. What was more disconcerting was that this man would soon know me intimately, and that last truthful bit made me quiver a little.

  Juan regarded me with that look, the kind that did all sorts of bad things to one’s mind, to one’s libido.

  Was this how he was going to be on set? Or was this how he functioned—a walking, talking sex on legs, pheromone magnet?

  Darting my tongue out, I wetted my bottom lip as my sight dropped to his toned legs that even his faded jeans couldn’t hide. “I’m sure you’ll be excellent in helping me sort my lack of knowledge in Spanish cuisine. Just give me the name of the place and directions, and I’ll meet you there.”

  “I can wait here. I don’t mind it.” That easy, charming smile hadn’t wavered from his face.

  What the hell? I didn’t expect that at all.

  Well, he was rather different. He took being a hospitable host to another level.

  “Let me just quickly change, then I’ll be right out.” Pressing my lips together, I shut the door while he waited in the hallway.

  I immediately darted towards my unpacked luggage and opened it like a demented woman. I was lucky I packed a lot of cotton sundresses. Choosing a black, knee-length one, I then turned towards the bathroom to change. Once done, I spritzed my favorite perfume and not much else. I carried myself out the door, barefaced, and without care of the disheveled state of my loosened bun.

  “Okay, I’m ready,” I said the moment I stepped out of the door. I found him leaning against the opposite wall, not checking his phone, but deep in thought.

  Juan looked, and the second our eyes clashed, that sexy smile appeared once again.

  “Perfecto,” he stated, striding towards me then placing a hand on the base of my back before ushering us towards the elevator. “Have you read the scripts? I thought a one-year hiatus would relax me. I was wrong. I can’t wait for production to start.”

  Pacing myself a little ahead of him so I didn’t have to feel the heat of his touch on my back, I glanced to my side and gave him a wry smile. “I haven’t had the chance yet.” Did that make me sound unprofessional?

  “Since you’re this amazing dance instructor, you’ll have someone to coach you, I think, or that’s what I understand. I’m sure Cora will tell you what you need to know. She’s been travelling back and forth from the mainland to here for the past week, fixing problems and so on.”

  It was probably why she hadn’t been there to greet me an hour ago, upon arr
ival.

  After emerging from the elevator, he led the way out of the hotel and onto a sandy walkway that gave a great view of the shoreline. The sand crunched under our shoes as we walked along the path, the soft breeze teased my clammy skin, and the sound of the waves hitting the shore in the background had an amazing calming effect on my senses. Instead of being tense and awkward with this stranger, I was somehow at ease. The conversations flowed without a hitch.

  En route, he was busy telling me about what this beautiful island had to offer. He was fond of sailing and all sorts of water sports. I, on the other hand, had limited experience but could fully attest that I was decently good at plain ole swimming.

  I realized that Juan Torres easily laughed. A carefree soul who didn’t hide his love of a great party and a hardcore EDM music aficionado.

  He guided me through a pretty cave passageway that led towards the restaurant overlooking the bay. We arrived at Restaurante El Mirador in no time.

  It sat atop what gave way to an enchanting sight over the beach and the bay. It was tavern-like. I kind of liked it. It was charming, and I was sure the seafood dishes were superb.

  I would know as soon as I could decipher what this menu was about.

  The menu was in Spanish. My limited knowledge of the language was from my Spanish 101 class almost five years ago, a memory I could barely recall to help me get through this unpleasant situation.

  “I’m getting the octopus,” Juan declared as he placed the menu to the side. “I recommend you try the paella.”

  Paella. I had no clue what it was, but I could go with the flow. After all, this was all about new experiences. “Paella sounds good.”

  When the waiter came around, Juan gave our order, along with a bottle of white wine. And upon the arrival of our refreshments, they served us tapas. The savory treats were in small cerulean ceramic dishes. Chorizo. Mushrooms in olive oil. Anchovy. Shrimps doused in olive oil and garlic. Tiny croquettes. Black olives. And several more I couldn’t properly pronounced. Juan enthusiastically described each one of them in great detail.

  “Do you know when you’re going to start your dancing thing?” Juan asked as he slipped an olive between his lips.

  I shook my head as I dragged my eyes away from his full puckers. “Not yet. I’ll know more tomorrow for sure.” My character’s job was a professional instructor who was vacationing here for a few months after a divorce.

  Naturally, I would be shooting a few scenes with just the camera and me dancing. I supposed after that video went viral, it was probably when Lombardo thought it a great idea to have me audition for this role. And if that were the case, I had Carmen to thank for that risqué clip.

  “Nice video, by the way. I understand why they wanted you for the movie. With that kind of dancing and your acting skills, put that two together, you have a potentially successful film.”

  Why didn’t it occur to me that Juan had seen the video, too? It seemed everyone had. Not only was I a little embarrassed, I was beyond mortified.

  Distracted, I tried to avoid his gaze when a soft breeze blew a few strands of my hair, teasing my skin. I gently tucked it behind my ear while feeling my cheeks slowly flame. “You flatter me too much,” I mumbled as I miserably tried to hide my smile.

  Juan’s eyes danced with amusement before he chortled upon seeing my mortified reaction. The sound of his deep, throaty laugh sent warm fuzzies in my stomach. “You deserve the praises. Lombardo always spots the up and coming. He’s got an amazing eye for that.”

  He came with an abundance of compliments. He was so easy to get on with. I was sure working with him wouldn’t be a hardship. It could even be fun, and I looked forward to that.

  “Well, thank you all the same. You’re too kind, Juan.”

  “I’m not being kind. I’m being truthful,” he uttered as he captured my gaze. “If you were awful, I’d tell you. I don’t hide my feelings and opinions; that’s something to get used to being around me, so I’m warning you now.”

  Time stilled. I was quietly riveted by the magnetism this man held at his fingertips. Was it the accent or the simple fact that he was too sexy for his own good? River was the sexiest man I knew, but this guy came a close second. Knowing where my thoughts were leading, it disturbed me how attracted I was to Juan.

  “Um, thanks for the warning?” Though strained from my meandering thoughts, I tried to play off my smile as though he didn’t affect me at all. “As long as you brush your teeth before we film kissing scenes, I won’t be complaining much.” Just as I finished saying that, I could faintly hear my purse vibrate on the chair next to me. Whoever it was, it could wait until I got back in the hotel.

  Our food arrived. Paella was a rice dish with seafood, though Juan informed me that the dish came with different meats. I quite liked the seafood and looked forward to tasting the other kinds.

  “This is actually really yummy.” I didn’t realize how starved I was until the first bite settled in the linings of my stomach. I slept from the cross Atlantic flight. And after my arrival in Madrid, I was in too much hurry to catch my connecting flight to Barcelona to think about food.

  Juan was in the middle of his octopus dish when he paused and honed in on me. “If you like, we can do a few rehearsals tomorrow. That way we can get used to each other. We need to get into the flow and work on our chemistry.”

  Chemistry.

  Gulp.

  I didn’t think I’d have a problem on that front. No, basing on my first reaction to his physical appearance, I’d say there was no need to fake it at all.

  My cheeks flamed as I imagined how much this guy would see my body, all the while we would have to act like a couple in a torrid affair. My role in Clover never needed me to bare skin, so this new role as Andy Fuller would surely test the boundaries of my abilities.

  Setting my fork down, I reached out to take a sip of my wine as I glanced back at the man across the table. “That sounds brilliant, thank you. You’re in tons of movies, but this is a first for me, so I really appreciate that.”

  “Then it’s set. Tomorrow it is.” He raised his glass to toast. “To Andy and Enrique.”

  I followed suit. “To Andy and Enrique.”

  We stayed for quite some time before we decided it was time to head back to the hotel. Exhaustion slowly crept into me after the delicious meal I had devoured with gusto. Top off the fact that I also had two glasses of wine, my body was ready to shut down and sleep off the night.

  The stroll back to the hotel was rather pleasant. The beauty surrounding us was rather overwhelming. Most of all, my charming companion didn’t have a dull moment. Juan Torres, I learned from the small time I had enjoyed his company, didn’t divulge anything personal, though the man didn’t run out of conversation. He gave off the inkling that he was an open book, Come to think of it, he was quite skilled in avoiding personal questions. I had been too overwhelmed by his attentiveness to think much of it.

  “Buenas noches, Cara. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He bid me goodnight as he placed his hands in his pockets.

  I paused, eyeing him as my fingertips played with my keycard. “Buenas noches. And thank you for not neglecting your obligatory host welcoming tourists,” I teased. “It would’ve been a quiet night had it not been for your company, so thank you for that.” I made a little wave of goodbye before I slid the card into the slot and entered my room without looking back.

  Upon closing the heavy oak door, I was barely a few steps into my room when my phone vibrated again.

  Releasing a breath, I pulled my phone out of my purse before flinging it onto the nearest chair. I then uncomfortably sat while my thumb busied unlocking my phone while my other hand freed my feet from the confines of my three-inch espadrilles.

  River.

  Already worried sick that I hadn’t called? I did try to reach him when I landed in Madrid, but it went straight to his voicemail. I supposed that small message clip wasn’t enough for my man.

  Then guilt washed over m
e.

  No matter how many gorgeous men came my way, I would never betray him. My heart wouldn’t let me go down that lurid path. All the other actors in Lombardo films had different circumstances compared to mine. I shouldn’t let that cloud my judgment. No, I convinced myself as I dialed his number.

  “Hi, babe,” I softly greeted him after he took my call on the first ring.

  There was a lengthy stretch of silence. However, I knew he was on the other end of the phone. His ragged breathing gave him away.

  “River?” What was wrong with him? “Hello?”

  “Cara, something happened, but don’t freak out, okay? I didn’t do anything.”

  When someone says not to worry, that’s my cue to do so.

  Whatever River had to say to me, it was going to be bad. How bad was it? Guessing from his wretched tone, pretty fucking bad.

  With bated breath, I shut my eyes. Dread began to form in the pit of my stomach. My heart began to pound as my mind tried to reassure me that my boyfriend wasn’t going to confess that he cheated on me—not this nightmare again. Goose bumps prickled my skin as I began to shiver, not from cold, but from trepidation.

  “Spell it out for me please. I need you to say it loud and clear.”

  “I was out of my mind drunk after the show … but I still went to this penthouse party, and somehow Hailey was there, too. She approached me out of nowhere. I tried not to be rude after what she had done to me … but she somehow took that as a good sign and when she kissed me out of nowhere, I pushed her off of me. I was furious, and I thought that was all over, but Ari just informed me that there’s a video of it, though it didn’t show me shoving her away from me. Now everyone’s speculating I’m back with her again.” He paused, as if to gather his thoughts, as if to gather his bearings. His strength. “I’m really sorry. I know you’re out in Spain and will be away from this frenzy. That’s the only consolation out of this miserable situation. I beg you, don’t lose faith in me. I would never ever fucking hurt you, baby. I hope you believe that I love you, Cara. Losing you was a tough lesson, and I would never dare do something so stupid again.”