by Aimee Duffy
Ric’s office door flew open.
He rose from the desk when the handle knocked a lump of plaster from the wall. Angry fire clawed through him. Alexa hobbled into his office in a pair of tight shorts, dragging two purple suitcases with a pink duffle slung over her shoulder.
His gaze dropped to her bruised knee and he felt a shred of the anger dissipate, but not enough when he saw the crumbled plaster dusting his floor.
‘You better have a good reason for destroying my wall.’
His voice held enough animosity to put fear into the most unruly employee. When he looked up at her face, he saw her eyes blaze like icy grey shards.
‘I have a good reason, alright.’ Alexa pulled the duffle bag off and dumped it on the floor. She hobbled over to his desk, one hand on her hip. ‘Where exactly do you expect me to sleep for the next three weeks?’
Her question, as well as the three bags of her possessions confused him. ‘In your room, of course.’
‘Really?’ She’d managed to reach his desk now and planted both palms on the mahogany. It looked like she was back to her normal self, the vulnerability he’d glimpsed last night gone. Bending closer, she said, ‘You might want to tell your snotty receptionist that.’
Ric’s stomach balled into a knot. ‘What did Sonia tell you?’
Alexa’s nose wrinkled. ‘Sonia told me to get out. That the suite was booked up for a month as of today. Didn’t you tell them I was staying on?’
She threw him the look that questioned his idiocy. Anger pitched like a fork in his gut. He lifted up the phone on the desk and hit the number for reception. Sonia answered and he asked her in Spanish what was going on. After she explained they had overbooked, Ric checked on his computer and confirmed it. There was nothing available for at least a month. Nowhere for Alexa to stay.
He wanted to yell at Sonia to fix it, to find Alexa somewhere even if it was in the basement, but the evidence was on his screen in black and white and he knew Alexa would never live in a basement. With a sigh, he told Sonia to find out who had double booked. He’d deal with the staff later. Now he had an angry heiress who didn’t listen to reason to calm down.
‘Well?’
Ric raked a hand through his hair. ‘Someone overbooked for the next few weeks.’
Alexa nodded, then bent down to the pink bag and unzipped it. She pulled out a purse. ‘Okay. Give me a call when you’ve found somewhere for me to stay. You can take my bags.’
‘I don’t think so. We need to nail down the guest list, fix the floor plan and a million other things.’
She stomped back to his desk, one hand on her hip. ‘I’ve spent the morning packing all my stuff with a housekeeper rushing me. I’m starving and I’m going to grab lunch. This is your hotel’s mistake so you can deal with it.’
His temper sizzled but Ric knew she was right. If it wasn’t for someone’s clerical error, Alexa wouldn’t have to move. It still didn’t mean he was happy about her leaving, nor about knocking a chunk out of the wall. Remembering the bet, he decided caving to her demands was preferable to spending this weekend in Hell disguised as fun.
‘Fine. I’ll call you soon.’
With a smirk, Alexa left and Ric turned to his computer. He searched estate agents and hotels in Marbella. Three hours later and more phone calls than he could count and his mood was sourer than ten day old milk. All hotels in the city were fully booked due to it being peak season, as were the apartments and villas. Raking a shaky hand through his hair, he realised she was going to have to stay with him until he could rework some of the bookings here or at his other hotel across the city. He prayed there was at least one cancellation within the next week.
After arranging for her luggage to be moved, he pulled out his phone and dialled her number.
‘Have you found me somewhere to stay?’
Not even a greeting. ‘Yes. Now will you come back to work?’
She paused for a beat. ‘My stuff?’
Ric gritted his teeth. He knew she wouldn’t be happy to stay with him. Better to save it until later, when she’d calmed down. ‘In your room. Come straight to the office. I need to go over a few things with you before I go over to the site.’
He knew it was the cowardly way out, but he’d rather wait until tonight for a blow-out. Besides, she wouldn’t be staying with him for long. At least he hoped she wouldn’t.
‘I’ll be there soon.’
Sliding the phone onto the cradle, he wondered if there was any way he could feign a business trip until a room became available for her. But he had too much to do. The building work needed his focus, and he had enough functions coming up to keep him firmly in Marbella.
Later, when he returned to the hotel, the rest of the day passed by in a whir of phone calls and meetings. When a knock sounded at his door, his gaze lifted to the time on his PC. It was after six and he hadn’t stopped for a break. His stomach growled as he shouted ‘Come in.’
Ric was surprised to see Alexa enter. Usually she didn’t wait for permission. She still wore the shorts and vest combo. He kept his gaze on her face. The dark smudges beneath her heavy lidded eyes made him wonder if she’d slept at all last night. His chest felt tight as he remembered her on the ground, remembered her fear.
‘I have a few things to run by you before I settle into my room.’ Alexa strolled towards his desk and sat down.
He thought now was as good a time as any to drop the bomb about her room, but she distracted him by placing a file on his desk. He looked down to see a list of names—some he recognised as high rollers in Spanish society, others took him longer to figure out.
‘What makes you think Londoners would help the children here?’ he asked, wondering if she was completely stupid. He doubted any of the additions Alexa had made to the guest list would care.
‘They are coming. I’ve already asked them.’
Ric blinked at her, unable to decipher how she’d done it.
She grinned. ‘I’m not without resources. I thought if I could get the big dogs in the UK to take interest in your charity, the media coverage would spread.’
And her reputation as an aide in organising the event would help overshadow the bad press. ‘How did you convince them to come?’
‘I asked them.’ She shrugged. ‘I bump hips with them all at parties and some are my clients.’
‘What kind of business do you run?’ he asked, picking up the list again. He still couldn’t believe it. He reached for the folder she’d dropped.
‘Together does what it says on the tin. I—’
‘I didn’t approve these.’
Ric pulled out the invitations she’d had printed at some point. He could tell it hadn’t been Lydia: not only would she have asked permission before drafting something up, she would never have used the phrase ‘glitziest charity ball ever.’ His irritation spiked and he glared at her.
She squared her shoulders. ‘I only had a handful made. Enough to send out to the English guests. The ball’s only a few weeks away. We need to get invitations out pronto.’
He frowned at her. ‘I get final approval on anything you send out. This…’ he waved the card in front of her face ‘Isn’t what I had in mind.’
‘You asked me to help and I did.’ She pushed up from the desk. ‘I like the invitations and they’re practically what Lydia had, only more—’
‘Do not say fun.’
‘Well, they are.’ She scowled at him. ‘What is your problem with fun? Weren’t you allowed to have any when you were a child?’
‘No, Alexa. I was too busy trying to find somewhere safe to sleep at night.’
Her mouth dropped open on a gasp and Ric’s stomach crashed to his feet. He hadn’t meant to say that out loud, but she irritated him to the point where he lost control over what came out of his mouth. Her lack of brain-to-mouth filter must be contagious.
‘Ric, I’m so sorry.’
Rising, he shuffled the new version of the contract together and stuffed it in his briefcase. ‘Forge
t about it. I have.’
Her hand circled his wrist and his gaze jerked up to hers. Moisture sparkled in her eyes, but he didn’t see pity. She was frowning and her lips twisted as if in displeasure. ‘Is that why you started the charity, because you grew up on the streets?’
Convincing himself he’d imagined the horror in her voice, he pulled out of her grip. ‘I’m sure I told you before to stay out of my business.’
Alexa looked at him like he’d slapped her and guilt pooled like acid in a stomach twisted by old memories. He pulled a key from his suit jacket and handed it to her. ‘This will get you into your room.’
Ric strode to the door without a backward glance. She stirred up his perfectly cool life, resurrected memories best kept forgotten and made him feel. Anything. Everything. He gritted his teeth as he realised he would have to spend time with her day and night unless he took up a hobby. For now, something to eat and a few hours more at the office should be enough time for her to calm down, get used to the idea of staying in his suite and hopefully fall asleep.
‘What’s my room number?’ she asked.
He turned around at the doorway, his chest and shoulders tight. ‘The penthouse.’ She opened her mouth to speak, all moisture gone from her stormy eyes. ‘We’ll talk about it later, Alexa. It’s all there is for now.’
She studied his face, the storm seemed to calm in her eyes and then she nodded.
He left the room and made his way to the kitchen for a quick meal before he got back to work. Still, his hunger had vanished.
Alexa always argued with him. She never backed down. The slip of the tongue about his past had changed that. Ric had to put things back on even ground. He didn’t want her pity, or her horror at what he’d survived. There were enough of those demons from his past still haunting him. When he got back to the penthouse, he’d lay down new ground rules.
Alexa stared at the huge plasma TV without really seeing the images on the screen. She’d lost track of the amount of time she’d sat there—probably still in shock from finding out a little about his past. The cream leather suite cooled with the dropping temperature and she felt it seep into her skin, raising goosebumps. Shivering, she rose and went through to the room where Ric had left her luggage.
There was nothing she could fault in the room. The luxurious bedspread felt silky to the touch, the mattress dipped under her weight just enough so that she wanted to curl up and purr. Better yet, the en suite meant she didn’t have to share a bathroom with Ric.
She slipped into a pair of leggings and a long pullover wondering what his life had been like before the Castillos had adopted him. He must have faced some horrors growing up on the streets.
As she washed her face and brushed her teeth, she remembered him warning her that Spain had as many thugs as London. Did he meet them? She shuddered. At least now she could guess where his violence came from and where he learned the credit card in the door trick.
Glancing around the plush room, Alexa tried to call on some anger, some fury at having to stay in his home. It was his hotel’s fault, and them spending time together was tense at the best of times. The fact that he must really not have any other options dissolved some of the irritation, but his accidental confession pushed it down till she was left cold.
The clanking of the lift sparked jitters in her belly. She thought about going through to the lounge, making herself at home on the cold sofa but she stopped herself. If she saw him, she’d want to know. Everything. And Ric’s cool brush off in his office told her it wasn’t a topic for conversation.
‘Alexa,’ he called from the lounge.
She eyed the bed, wondering if she dove under the sheets she’d be able to keep her hammering heart at bay enough to feign sleep.
Footsteps sounded in the hall and she crossed to the door, pulled it wide and planted a hand on her hip. She thought if she acted like things were normal, she could forget about his past and start seeing him as someone no different from her father. But Robert Green hadn’t had to deal with homelessness. Like her, he’d been born into the world with more money than he needed.
Ric still wore his dark suit, the white shirt rumpled and his tie had vanished. His hair framed his face in wild tufts and the shadows under his eyes made her heart melt. It took all her willpower to scowl at him instead of running him a hot bath and offering to make him something to eat.
His jaw clenched and he stopped a few feet away. ‘We need to talk.’
‘You want to talk now, after spending the day letting me think that you had a room for me to stay in?’
Anger was good. It made her forget about taking care of him—not that Ric needed her care. Alexa guessed anyone who survived what he had could look after themselves.
‘Kitchen.’ He walked passed her.
She heard the fridge clink open and then a thud as a bottle hit the counter and scurried in after him. Ric poured a huge shot of malt and downed it in one gulp. As he reached for the bottle again, Alexa interrupted him.
‘That bad a day?’ He turned to her, his expression unreadable. Alexa swallowed. ‘Drink won’t make me disappear.’ She tried to lighten his mood with humour but that didn’t seem to work either.
Ric poured another glass, then turned to lean against the worktop. ‘Take a seat,’ he instructed before bringing the tumbler to his lips and taking a sip this time. ‘If you’re going to be under my roof for the next three weeks, we need to set ground rules.’
Slumping onto the chair, she ground her teeth against the bollocking she wanted to throw at him. Under his roof. Biting her tongue, she consoled herself that now she didn’t feel sorry for the little boy who grew up on the streets or wonder what happened to him. No, now she saw the kind of man her father was. An arrogant, bossy, blackmailing, control-freak. Hot chest or not, Alexa was pleased to feel nothing other than anger. Looked like her hormones had finally acquired some common sense.
‘There will be no partying. If you’re not back by ten, the elevator will be locked and you won’t be able to come in.’
‘A ten o’clock curfew! Are you serious?’ Unbelievable. He was worse than Robert.
‘Yes. And under no circumstances will you bring anyone back.’
Alexa thought her body would explode with the anger burning through her veins. She couldn’t believe he assumed she would bring men back here and have sex with them, and the inflection in his tone said that’s exactly what he meant.
Well, he could think again. She got up and stormed across the cold tiles. Poking a finger into his chest, she said, ‘Honestly Ric, if I want to sleep with some hottie I meet at a bar, I wouldn’t bring him back here for you to ruin the mood.’
His eyes darkened in a way that had her brain screaming at her to shut up, that pushing him would be dangerous, but the words slipped out anyway. ‘And as for the curfew, I’m not sixteen. How do you expect me to meet all these men you think I’ll bring back to your home if I have to be in ridiculously early?’
His chocolate eyes, usually warm, now looked like they’d scorch the sockets. With a rigid jaw, he bent down so his lips were an inch from hers. Alexa’s hormones exploded like fireworks, but the anger hadn’t gone. No, the lust just ignited it further. She wanted to strangle him, wanted to kiss him and bite his lips, wanted…something.
‘You’re walking down a dangerous path, querida.’ The husky tone held a note of warning.
But Alexa had never listened to warnings and even if she wanted to stop, she couldn’t. If she didn’t get out what she needed to, she felt like she’d stop breathing with the pressure inside.
‘And you don’t have the right to control me, it’s my life. I’ll live it as I please. I am doing you a favour. If I wanted to go out and sleep with all the men in Spain—’
Ric hauled her against his chest and his lips crushed down on hers. The pressure inside her erupted into molten heat, bubbling through her veins. She fisted her hands in his hair and kissed him back, meeting his hunger with her own. When his tongue forc
ed its way into her mouth, she sucked it in further. Her knees weakened at the taste of him.
Pushing away from the counter, he spun their bodies and then shoved her against the fridge, never letting up on the assault on her mouth. She didn’t care, not now. Not when his taste made her burn all over and the place between her thighs throb with increasing need.
His hands slid under her top, right up to her naked breasts. He skimmed the curve beneath with each thumb. Knees weak, she sagged against the fridge, her head thumping off the chrome as she panted. He hadn’t even really touched her yet and she was on the edge, ready to explode.
Those lips eased up on hers. He trailed softer kisses along her jaw, down the column of her throat to the base, at the same time he teased her hardened nipples. A whimper escaped her lips. If the blood wasn’t pounding in every one of her pulse points, she’d probably have blushed at the sound she made.
Both their haggard breathing filled the room as his hands and lips focused on her intently. Alexa’s mind fogged—or maybe she’d lost common sense—because the only thing she could think about was the fact that they both wore too many clothes.
Ric lifted his head and she glimpsed his feral hunger but, before she could consider it, he whipped her top right over her head. His gaze fell to her breasts which swelled in an attempt to get closer to him.
‘Eres muy hermosa.’
She wanted to ask what he said, wanted his lips back on her. Ric reached for her and she’d have met him half-way if she thought her legs would work. His shaking hand froze and his gaze lifted from her chest. She could see indecision, pain, tightening his expression.
Well, maybe the bastard should have thought about it before he stuck his tongue down her throat.
The molten heat morphed into cold sludge in her veins. She covered her breasts with an arm, ignoring the painful jolt in her heart. Bending down, she picked up her jumper and tugged it on. Ric walked back to the counter and downed another glass of liquor. Her eyes pricked and for the first time in her life, she felt truly rejected. Oh, she’d known her father hadn’t loved her, not really, but he still needed her to do his bidding. Ric didn’t want to want her, which hit her stomach like a heap of bricks. Even though she didn’t want to want him either.