“Whatever you say to me, Sydney can hear it,” he said, and a wave of empowerment surged through her. When was the last time someone had made her feel like she mattered? “And make it fast, because I’m leaving soon.”
His mother frowned, hands perched on her waist. “Christmas is in a couple days. You can’t abandon your family.”
He gave a sarcastic laugh. “You can’t expect me to be part of this charade after what I found out.”
“Have you ever considered Carla might be responsible for the writer’s death?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “She’s somewhere in Europe.”
“No,” his mother said in a low voice. She paced in a circle, her fingers fidgeting over her ruffled shirt. “That’s what her mother told us. But I heard from a friend she’s in a psychiatric clinic in the country. Maybe she left the clinic and traveled.”
He raised his gaze to hers. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
His mother brought her hands together in a soundless clap. “That she went bonkers after you broke up with her? I wanted to protect you.”
Sydney’s heart thrummed in her ears. His ex girlfriend went to a clinic because of him? And he didn’t even know?
Alejandro rose to his feet, making a thumping sound on the carpet. “In case you haven’t noticed, mother, I’m not six anymore. I don’t need your so-called protection,” he said, and without looking at his mother, proceeded to grab a briefcase from the closet and throw some items inside. “Amparo is dead. She was my half sister and neither of us knew.”
“Mi querido…,” she strung along a few words in Spanish, no doubt to throw Sydney off track.
Sydney wasn’t an idiot. She saw Constanza erasing the gap between them, trying for a conciliatory hug. Alejandro lifted his hand to stop her and stepped back. His lips thinned in a set, stubborn line.
Sydney chewed on her bottom lip. What could she say? Hadn’t she been a part of several failed relationships at her foster homes? Disappointment was a constant in her life, whether she had caused it or witnessed it. Her heart swelled in sympathy for Alejandro, growing so fast so quickly that she feared it would burst.
“Grab your things, Sydney. We’re leaving.”
Chapter 9
During the drive to the Four Seasons, his lips remained sealed in a tight line. She tried to leave him alone, but her gaze strayed to him as if she had no say in the matter. Besides, leaving him alone was out of the question.
Alejandro checked them into an amazing suite, larger than her doubts. Two bodyguards followed behind them, exchanging a few sentences in Spanish.
The look in his mother’s eyes haunted her memory. She’d witnessed all the accusations. What if at the end of the day, they screwed her over? What if, his mother and uncle set out to get her? She needed to think through the options, because if one of them—his uncle or mother—were to blame for Frank’s death, she would have to disappear from sight. Disappear from Alejandro’s life. In the end, he would side with his family.
Wasn’t that what he’d done, by choosing not to tell her about his suspicion of his uncle? She found out much later because he had needed to vent. Certainly not because he trusted her to find a solution. Why would he? She was a former inmate.
“What if we talk to your ex?” she asked.
He continued to pace the suite. The living area had a set of taupe sofas, and tanned polished side tables that gave the ginormous space a French country flair. From what she had seen in magazines, anyway. She had never flown out of the States, besides this trip. And flair wasn’t exactly her forte.
Neither was walking on eggshells. However, before voicing her suspicion of his mother, exploring the possibilities was critical. She couldn’t just blurt out her thoughts, not this time.
He turned to her and rubbed the back of his neck. “I called the clinic. To be able to visit Carla, I need to get written authorization from her mother.”
A chilly sensation brewed in the pit of her stomach and spread throughout her body. She would get to know someone who, despite how badly it ended, had been romantically linked to Alejandro for a while. A twang of jealousy spiked her, and she shook her head. Out of all the crazy things that she had done and seen, jealousy over a mental patient had never been one of them. Until now. “Do you think that will be a problem?”
He let out a sigh. “Her mother used to like me, but if I’m the reason she lost it and was admitted, that’s a different story.”
She walked to a cherrywood chess table and picked out a black king. The piece felt good in her hand as she palmed it. In her second foster home, her parents had played on an old chessboard, and she’d watched them in silence. Whenever they went to the backyard for a smoke or hurried into their room for one of their constant fights, she scurried to the table and clasped the pieces in her hand. “Let’s give it a try.”
“Yeah.” He stalked toward her.
She fidgeted the king from one hand to the other, to distract her from his proximity. “Are you prepared to find out the truth about Frank’s killer?” She raised her gaze to his.
“Whoever killed Frank Lewis must pay.” Determination flickered in his eyes, and for a moment she almost believed him. She clamped her lips, and set the king piece back on the smooth checkered surface where it belonged. Would a man like him really go forward and bring his mother or uncle to the authorities if needed? Would he throw his uncle’s, no, his father’s political career in the trash along with his own reputation?
Crossing her arms around her chest, she sucked in a breath. “Do you want to order anything from room service?”
“I’m not hungry.” He grabbed the menu from the console and handed it to her. “Go ahead.”
She slid her fingers over the smooth edges of the leather bound menu. “I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff in my life, but tonight caught me by surprise. Do you want to talk?”
“No.” He pursed his lips. “I want to see you naked.”
Holding the menu against her chest like that was some kind of protection against the sparkle in his eyes, she balked. “Why?”
He removed his shoes and socks and tossed them to the side. “Because I had a pretty shitty day, and deserve to be rewarded.”
With a sigh, she loosened her grip on the menu until it dropped on the floor. Her sex clenched. “I don’t know that that’s a reward.”
He loosened his collar so fast, a couple of buttons flew from his shirt. “Why can’t I decide for myself? I’m fucking tired of people deciding things for me,” he said, his voice firm. “I am thirty-three years old, Sydney. Trust me, I can handle it.” He cleared his throat and stared at her, and a veneer of vulnerability hit his otherwise hardened features. She saw the bob of his Adam’s apple work its way down, and the frustration in how he jammed both fingers into his pockets.
“Fine.” She lifted her chin, but her resolve dissolved as she unbuttoned her jeans with trembling fingers. She managed to slide the jeans off, the rough denim clinging to her skin like a warning. Her last chance. Her plan was to avoid looking at him until she was bare, but he squashed it with a demand.
“Eyes on me.”
With a lump in her throat, she removed her shirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Her fingers itched to flip off the subdued lamp, which was soothing yet bright enough to show him everything she would rather conceal. She lifted her gaze to his, and he gave her a reassuring nod.
You can do it, girl. She chewed on her inner cheek, and shuffled her weight from one foot to another. Right. She slid her fingers over her bra, and realized that and the scrap of undies were her only protection against what was about to happen. Her stomach fluttered, and she almost moved her face to escape from his scrutiny. Then…his eyes sparked with fascination and he leaned back as if he wanted to give her a good look.
She unclasped her bra, and let it slide down her shoulders. Next, she pulled down her panties.
“Exquisite.” He angled closer and traced the scarring path that started at her neck,
swirled down the side of her chest, all the way down her hip. “You make me forget about everything else.”
She sucked in her breath. He kissed her scars, one by one. Her limbs loosened and her belly burned as if she’d downed a shot of tequila. “Alejandro…”
“You are the sexiest woman I’ve ever met,” he said in a low, growly voice.
Okay. Two shots of tequila.
When he lowered to her marred hip, he slid his wet tongue over her flesh, lifted his hand to her buttocks, and massaged her. With wobbly knees, she fought to stay upright. He pushed her against the wall, and brought her legs over his shoulders. Relentless, he buried his head between her thighs, and she leaned back, slipping out a moan.
The tip of his tongue outlined her sex, and she squirmed around him. She tugged at his hair, and brought him closer, her heart beating wildly in her pulse, her ears, and…her core. A surge of tingles went through her, and he delved his tongue in her pussy, with powerful and delicious strokes.
“Baby, I’m coming,” she warned him, and a sound of male appreciation reverberated in her.
He inserted his thumb into her, and flicked her clit to the point of no return, the movements matching the urge brewing inside her.
At last, she gritted her teeth. One last clench, and her body convulsed in an earth shattering release. She buckled, and he held her legs in place, caressing her thighs until she was able to breathe again. Barely.
***
Alejandro scooped her into his arms. Naked and still quivering, she didn’t argue. He carried her to the bedroom, and the second he eased her on the mattress, she slid her hand to the side.
“No sheets.” His voice was final. “We’re past that, Sydney.”
She chewed on her lower lip. “Maybe I’m just cold.”
He reached for the condom in his pocket and laid it on the nightstand. “I’ll warm you up.”
She propped up on her elbows, and a smile tipped at the corner of her luscious lips. “Of that I have no doubt.”
He contemplated her, in awe of her raw, imperfect yet mind-blowing beauty. The long string of scars that rose against her skin was a sign of how real she was. Her body glistened, and under the moonlight skipping across the wood flooring, he could see the bare expression in her eyes. Despite how she had surrendered into orgasm just minutes earlier, there was a hesitation in her. She fidgeted her fingers over the silky linen, as if she was searching for a way to bolt. An adorable blush spread across her cheeks, highlighting her luscious auburn locks. The woman was all fire and heat.
His throat dried. Joining her, he caught her mouth in a devouring kiss. She thrust her fingers through his hair, and a tingle surged from his hairline all the way down his body. Every part of his flesh that rubbed against hers experienced little currents that traveled to his stomach. She intensified the kiss, her tongue melding with his. He groaned, and the profusion of emotions cramped in his abdomen.
By asking her to take off her clothes for him, he had been selfish. He had craved her, yes, but he hadn’t imagined for a moment she’d grant him his request. He had hoped the distraction would be enough, even spark a possible argument. Anything that would take his mind off the horrific truths he’d discovered in such a small time frame.
She glided her fingers over his chest, and he quivered. Her fingernails scratched his abdomen, and he gritted his teeth. Control had never been a more foreign concept. His cock leaped, agreeing, ready to explode. Aching.
When was the last time he had been this turned on? The thought distracted him for a split second, and she broke the kiss. A cold draft of air replaced the hotness of her lips. She pinned his hands down on the bed, and he allowed her to, positioning his head so he could still see her. What a sight it was.
Sydney upped her eyebrow, and frank defiance crossed over her face. She licked her parted lips and ran her hand lower. He sucked in his breath when he felt the whisper of her breath across his groin. Lower. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, afraid the intensity of her eyes would shred that last remainder of control. Afraid? Alejandro Soto didn’t fear anything. Nothing. Nada.
“Turns out I can warm you up too,” she said.
“Anytime, mi amor,” he breathed. “Anytime.” His reply set his blood pounding, thicker than before.
Anytime? Sydney had suffered enough, she came from a life of abuse. How different would he be from the others if he took his fill and left her? Yet in many ways, their connection was the only thing helping him remain sane. Even though his attraction for her was insane.
What if…they were meant to keep going? Not just sexually?
She ran the tip of her tongue along his cock, and reasoning, along with any honorable intentions, disappeared. His entire body tightened. The only working part pulsed and grew inside the wet, delicious recesses of her lovely mouth. He massaged her scalp while she took all his length, her teeth grazing over his skin.
“Sydney. If you don’t stop—”
His warning should have been enough. The lack of oxygen in his brain dizzied his head. He had to squeeze some air from his lungs to choke out a word. “Stop.”
“You don’t tell me what to do,” she said in a mischievous tone.
His plea to let him bury himself inside her and drive them both to bliss died in his throat. She sucked him harder, wrapping her lips around him without mercy. She cupped his balls, and continued her rhythmic dance, bringing it in and out of her mouth, each time getting him one step closer to a rapturing climax.
She grazed her teeth on him one last time, and that did it. He tensed up, slamming his back into the mattress only to lift it again. Convulsions rippled through him, and he poured his essence in her, without barriers.
Caressing his damp thighs, she took all of him. When the spasms subsided, she scooted on the bed and lay at his side. “Now we’re even.”
He wiped the sweat slicking his forehead and turned on his side to face her. “Getting even never felt so good.”
She gave him a lopsided smile, and his chest tightened. His whole life had been about getting ahead. Winning. Getting even was not something he was familiar with.
“If you get the authorization, are you scared of seeing Carla after so long?” she asked him, and the question caught him off guard. Was it awful of him not to nurture good memories from the time spent with his ex fiancée?
He twirled a loose curl around his finger. “I will be on my best behavior. Especially given her mental issues.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
He inhaled deeply. He had always ended his other relationships on friendly terms, either because he had realized his partners wanted more than he could offer, or because it had just been the natural course of things. “I’d feel terrible if it was really true that I triggered her mental illness.”
“Oh.” The sound escaped from her lips, and a blank expression crossed her face. “If that’s the case, why didn’t you treat her more gently? You said you broke it off abruptly.”
“I moved out one day. After too many arguments. I guess I hoped she would be the one to change my mind about marriage. Until I met her, I had seen how my mother was devastated after losing my father, and how my uncle struggled after Amparo’s death.” A hissy sound pushed from between his teeth. The two people who indirectly helped him realize love was complicated were the ones who had indulged in a forbidden affair.
“Did she make you change your mind?”
“I thought so. But when she began to become possessive, I balked. Maybe deep down, I knew that a life with her just wasn’t for me. I wanted to give it a try. How about you? Do you think you will ever settle down?”
“I’m always on the move.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’ve never experienced being part of a functional family. I wouldn’t know where to start.” She smiled. A sad, slow smile that stole the air from his lungs.
He wanted to tell her she deserved all those things, from someone who could love her and cheri
sh her. The thought formed a lump in his throat of another man giving her what she needed.
Chapter 10
“Is that it?” She pointed at the villa style building at the top of a mountain.
“Yeah.” He pushed his sleek sunglasses over the bridge of his nose.
Sydney took but a couple breaths by the time he parked his car on the lot and turned off the engine. They had driven for two hours, and although the powerful sun blinded her, she doubted it was past nine a.m. He had called Carla’s family early morning, and although her mother had reservations, her father had agreed on him seeing her—as long as her doctors hovered by. Carla’s father believed closure was critical for his daughter’s healing.
She braced herself, and goose bumps rose on her arms even though it was a nice summer day.
They walked past security and he showed the middle-age receptionist his ID.
The woman with kind eyes looked him up on the thin monitor of a computer screen and nodded. “You are allowed to visit her,” she said. “But I don’t see your name on the list.” She turned to Sydney.
Alejandro leaned on the desk and flashed her a smile. “I assure you Sydney is a friend of the family. She doesn’t even speak Spanish, and she means no harm.”
The woman drifted her gaze to Sydney, unfazed. “I don’t want any problems, señor.”
“Neither do I.” He pointed at himself. “Listen…” He read her name on the tag. “Consuelo. If you’d like to call the manager or the doctor in charge, I’ll explain the situation.”
Consuelo twirled her finger on one of the kinky curls straying from a messy updo. Then, she let out a long, exasperated sigh and drummed her fingers on the counter. “The manager is in a meeting. I’ll let you in, but one word from the nurse and you are both out.”
“Gracias,” Alejandro said.
The receptionist picked up the phone and spoke in fast Spanish, and in a matter of seconds a smiling male nurse walked up to them.
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