by Jewel Allen
“I will text you if I decide to do it.”
“Fair enough.”
She moved away from him, followed by Max’s heavier steps until the room was silent once again.
Alejandro stood there for a long time, his blood stirring at her admission.
I fell in love with your art. And maybe...even with you.
He’d encountered zealous fans before who’d never hidden their adulation for him. So why did this one feel...different?
Chapter Six
Maybe even with you.
Isa groaned silently as Max escorted her down to the gate via a little ATV.
Why did she admit her little infatuation to Alejandro Diaz? She was a grown woman, for heaven’s sake, not some teenager fangirling an artist.
Worse, she was his publisher. And maybe now ghostwriter. Before she’d met him, she’d been intrigued through his art. But his physical appearance, his voice, never factored in. Now, how would she be able to sit, day in and day out, listening to his deep voice, without it affecting her more so than ever?
Her father was right. She was obsessed with Alejandro Diaz.
She was a hot mess.
So much for his book furthering her career. She pretty much nuked it to smithereens. How could Alejandro take her seriously now?
Max parked the ATV just inside the gate of the compound.
“Have you ever made a major mistake on your job, Max?” she asked.
He turned to her. She couldn’t see the expression in his eyes behind his sunglasses. “I let you into the compound,” he said.
“Yeah, but a major flub?”
“No.” He shook his head. “And I hope I never do.”
She didn’t feel any better. Without waiting for him to taser her, she got out of the ATV and walked through the open gates.
“For what it’s worth, ma’am,” Max called out, “I think you’re doing just fine.”
She attempted a smile over her shoulder. “Thanks.”
The trek to her rental car was hot and long. Once she got behind the wheel, she wanted to just sit there and never move. But she knew she had to keep going. At least enjoy Sevilla while she was here...while waiting on Alejandro’s answer.
Alejandro. Just the thought of him, his forceful personality, his good looks, his aura of mystery, his creative brilliance, made her weak at the knees.
She should have sent Elvira in her place. At least there would be no danger of an inappropriate relationship between them since Elvira was naturally repellent.
As if there was a chance of Alejandro falling for Isa.
She checked her email, just in case. Just confirmed her suspicions. Nothing.
No, “Come back, after your declaration, I have decided I want to be with you the rest of my life.”
She turned the key in the ignition and drove to Sevilla proper.
Sevilla was an older city which had somehow escaped urban sprawl. The heart of the town still consisted of small, one-way roads with strict no parking rules. As she drove through, trying to not hit the pedestrians that thronged the narrow streets, she wondered how anyone found parking around here.
She stopped at boutique hotels, turned her rental’s emergency flashers on, and jumped out. Hotel staff were all very nice, but there were no vacancies. Soon, the list she had printed off from home had whittled down to hostels. She pulled up to one, only to discover that the rooms were co-ed. Several men smoked in one, eyeing her with interest. Holding her breath, she marched out and sped off in the rental.
This Feria de Avril must be a really big deal.
She pulled out of the historic district and came upon a large tent city, if a tent city could be this upscale. White pavilions with side walls dotted a park and spilled out onto rolling hills that flanked Sevilla. The nice thing was, there was parking, and it appeared to even be free. She pulled into a stall to walk around and see what this festival was all about.
Music spilled out of the tents, as well as laughter and the clinking of dishes. Isa’s stomach growled. She’d been so bent on getting a hold of Alejandro Diaz, she’d forgotten she hadn’t had a meal in what felt like ages.
Along the tents, there were smaller places that served tapas, little plates of hors d’oeuvres. She entered one, self-conscious of the little Spanish she knew. Her server was solemn-faced and disengaged, probably in his early twenties. He brought out her order, a seafood paella and some stewed squid, and then left her alone. The paella was rich and smoky. The squid was tender and seasoned just right.
Her phone beeped. Glancing at the screen, her heart raced. A text message from a Sevilla number.
At one time, she’d have been jumping on this, but now...
She clicked on it.
ALEJANDRO: I will do the book.
She had wanted this, more than anything. But now, she was almost scared of it. Of him. Best defense was offense.
ISA: Great. When would you like to start?
ALEJANDRO: How about tomorrow?
ISA: Perfect. Today I am lining up my lodging here in Sevilla.
ALEJANDRO: Don’t bother. Stay in my castle.
For one moment, Isa imagined herself, a damsel in a gown, her bonnet ribbon fluttering in the wind, a valise in hand, traversing a drawbridge to his fortified castle.
ISA: I would hate to impose.
ALEJANDRO: You already have.
Ha, very funny. She could stay in Sevilla and drive to the castle every day. Or she could stay in his castle, where they could have meals together. In candlelight. Having intimate conversations.
ALEJANDRO: Stay here or it’s no go.
She clenched her jaw.
ISA: Seriously?
ALEJANDRO: I’m joking. I hope you’re smiling.
ISA: Actually, I was frowning. That sounded so...cavemanish.
ALEJANDRO: Still. I thought you’d be jumping up and down by now.
She bit her lip. Should she be honest again? A lot of good that did her earlier.
ISA: I thought I would too.
ALEJANDRO: Be careful what you wish for.
ISA: I can pay for my lodging.
ALEJANDRO: Don’t be insulting.
Oops, she forgot he was a billionaire.
ISA: Well, thank you. What time would you like me to be there?
ALEJANDRO: I’m not going anywhere. Any time after 10.
ISA: I’ll shoot for 10.
She whipped out her wallet and pulled her credit card. The little silver chip image glinted under the restaurant lights. A server passed and she hailed him.
“Boleto, por favor,” she said. “I’m ready to pay.”
She took a deep breath. But was she ready for Alejandro Diaz?
Chapter Seven
Alejandro felt a frisson of excitement at the prospect of having Isabella Drake over. She was attracted to him, was she? The thought was...intriguing.
Well, perhaps she was attracted to the idea of him as an artist at any rate.
He owed her a book. She owed him...a chance.
Their relationship felt like a bud of a flower. One wrong move and it could die an early death.
There was a knock on the door.
“Come in,” he said.
Alejandro recognized Horatio’s shuffle and the dark outline of his suit.
“The American lady is here, sir.”
“Where is she?”
“She is waiting at the porch, sir.”
“Has she brought her things?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Perfect. Can you please take her luggage but put her in the library? I will be down shortly.”
“As you wish.”
He entered the library through its massive double doors, listening for her.
“Hello,” she said, from his left.
“Hello.”
“This is an amazing library.”
He walked in further, finding his way to a sofa. “The family that owned this castle took most of the original books. By the time it was all said and done
, the room looked ransacked.”
“I can imagine. Do you like to read?”
“I don’t have the patience to read. I assume you do?”
“Yes.” Her voice sounded nearer. “I love books. Very much.”
“Maybe you will have to read me one sometime.”
“Perhaps. I love romances though.”
“Perfect,” he teased.
He imagined her reading him a book where the main characters were kissing each other. Normally those melodramatic tomes bored him to tears...
“Thank you for agreeing to the book,” she said, rousing him from his thoughts.
“What book?”
“Yours.”
He winced. “Oh, right.” He cleared his throat. “I’m not excited, I will be honest. There are some things best left in the past.”
“I understand.” She paused. “Why did you say yes?”
He could lie and say he wanted to be immortalized. In truth, he felt guilty about the two million dollars.
“You intrigue me,” he said baldly.
“I’m flattered, but I’m hardly interesting.”
“Please. False modesty doesn’t become you.”
“So,” she said. “Are you ready to work today?”
“Not at all.”
“No?” he heard the archness in her voice.
“Aren’t you jetlagged?”
“As it happens, no. I found the last vacant room in Sevilla, fell asleep in exhaustion, and feel great today.”
“At least one of us does.” When she didn’t say anything, he said, “I will give you a tour of the castle and grounds if you are to live here the next few weeks.”
“That would be so kind of you.”
He heard the pleasure in her voice. He asked, “How long are you staying in Spain?”
“I don’t have a ticket home yet. But I imagined staying at least two to four weeks.”
“I would be fine if we wrapped my book up in two weeks.”
“I highly doubt it,” she said.
“I could tell you all sorts of detail. We could be here for years.”
“I hope not.”
He smiled. “Well, how about let’s start with the tour?” He stood up. He sensed her coming closer. “Do you mind,” he asked, “if I touch you on the shoulder? To get around.”
“Of course not.”
He felt her hand guide his to her warm shoulder. The touch was intimate and comforting, with a little zing of attraction.
He wanted to raise his hand and touch her jaw.
But he resisted.
Chapter Eight
Heavens, thought Isa, this was not going to work.
She’d been blown over by the library—a room two stories tall with floor to ceiling shelves, distracting her from her worries about being around Alejandro. But now, she had to face it full on.
His touch, his nearness, his voice, his everything. It was all so overwhelming.
“Turn to the left,” he said close to her ear, making her body tingle. “And then down the stairs.”
It was a huge castle. The walk down the stairs alone took a few minutes. He showed her the dining room, which looked like a museum. The sitting rooms painted in different colors. The kitchen that was a chef’s dream.
Downstairs there was a glass wall looking into a swimming pool with a retracting roof, a work-out room, more bedrooms and a theater room.
His hand rested on her shoulder throughout the tour.
“Where are the two other pools?” she asked.
“Outside.”
By the time they made it back to the main floor, an hour had passed.
“Would you like to go outside?” he said.
“Yes, please.”
Isa took a deep breath as they emerged outdoors. Such a beautiful place, with the sun slanting just right over the orchards of orange trees, their scent carrying in the gentle breeze. The trees, bright green budding and reaching their pruned limbs up to the sun.
Following the driveway around the castle, she saw the animal barn straightaway. It was a large building, newly painted with beautiful wrought iron accents along the windows. It wasn’t your typical, down-home barn, but something more out of a fancy stable. She heard the snuffle of a horse before she saw them, four sleek creatures with flowing manes and tails, corralled in a huge, fence pasture.
All of them turned at their approach and, with Alejandro, she approached the nearest one, who stood just by the railing, as she held out her hand.
“They’re beautiful.”
“Which one are we closest to?”
“It’s a black one. With white markings on his forehead and intelligent eyes.”
“Jaguar,” he said.
Jaguar was a gelding, she could tell as much. He looked at her askance before taking a few tentative steps. Her direction.
“Come on,” she coaxed. “Come, love.”
“You like horses?” Alejandro asked.
“Yes.” She sighed. “What little girl didn’t? I went through my horse-crazy phase.”
The horse continued to move closer, and even the others seemed to be considering coming over too. One of them, a bay, took a step forward.
His muzzle was soft and his eyes gentle.
“You are so lucky,” she said. “You can just live here all the days of your lives, in luxury, without any worries for the future.”
“Are you talking about me?” Alejandro teased.
“Uh-uh,” she said, smiling. To the horse, she said, “Does your master like to ride?”
“He does,” Alejandro said.
“What’s the sweet bay’s name?”
“The red mare is Silvana. The bay gelding is Girón.”
“And the gray?”
“Ah, I’d forgotten he’s out here now. She used to be my mother’s horse, Kristal.”
“Used to be?”
A shadow crossed his face. “She passed away early this year. Breast cancer.”
Her chest constricted. “I’m sorry. One of my uncles died from cancer too. Last year. I’m sure it’s nothing like losing your mother.”
His expression darkened. “Wait here,” he said in a truculent tone. “Horatio will attend to your needs.”
“Thank you for the tour,” she called out, bewildered at his sudden coolness. What had she said? Confused, she watched Alejandro leave.
Horatio appeared momentarily. He glanced at her with twinkling eyes. And then his professional, stoic demeanor returned.
“If you will please follow me,” he said fluently in the language he claimed he didn’t speak.
This was a different part of the castle, one which Isa had never been to before. She almost expected there to be torches along the hallway, the smell of kerosene pervading the air, and soot blackening the walls. But this was a modern home, with corresponding conveniences. Instead of a cold, stone floor, they walked on carpet. Lights lit up as they walked along, and dimmed as they left a section.
Isa thought of Alejandro’s self-driving car and wondered if he was into technological gadgets.
Horatio motioned to a door to his left, at the head of a hall. “There is an elevator to your bedroom at the third floor, if you’d prefer that we take that.”
His English was impeccable, with only a trace of a Spanish accent. Despite his age, he was lean and wiry like someone who had lived a disciplined life of diet and exercise.
“I’d rather take the stairs, thank you.”
She thought perhaps he would take the elevator and tell her to meet her at the third floor, but he didn’t. He led the way and she followed. By the third floor, he was clearly winded, and she felt sorry for him.
He led her down the hall to a door in the middle. It was shut. Did it have spiders lurking in its depths? Would the room be drafty with cold stone floors?
Horatio took out a set of keys and put one into an old-fashioned keyhole. The door swung open, revealing a space with natural light.
It was a massive bedroom with pr
etty ivory-colored furniture.
The butler stayed in the hall. “A maid will be assigned to you. I will send her up shortly.”
“I won’t need a maid, thank you,” she assured him.
“I am simply following orders. You will have to take up that matter with the master. Oh, and miss?”
“Yes?”
His demeanor was concerned. His forehead creased into a frown. “If I were you, I wouldn’t go to the opposite wing of the castle. It’s forbidden.”
“What’s in that wing?”
“It’s off-limits.”
“But why?”
“The master doesn’t want anyone there.”
“Of course. I understand.”
After he left, she walked up to the four-poster, king-sized bed, covered in a pretty mauve satin spread. She trailed her fingers on the extravagant fabric, at the gauzy curtain that she could close to give the bed intimacy. There was a sitting area by the four sets of French doors that also functioned as oversized windows.
She traipsed over like a giddy little girl, opening a set of doors and coming out onto a balcony. This whole development felt like a fairy tale, where reality intruded.
Across the courtyard below were manicured gardens, a formal design that rivaled that of France’s Versailles. The landscape here was less lush than, say, Spain’s northern counterparts, but there was still a hint of spring. Flowers bloomed and trees filled out with growth. Everything was spic and span, as though each planting had been put in its place for a specific purpose.
She was going to live here the next little while.
Her skin tingled with excitement at the prospect. Even Alejandro Diaz’s dark moods didn’t put her off.
As for the opposite wing?
She burned with curiosity. But she would heed Horatio’s warning.
For now.
There was a knock on her door. When Isa answered it, a slight woman stood there in uniform, Isa’s new maid, presumably.
The woman smiled and gazed at her expectantly.
“Hello, I’m Isa,” she said.
The woman put a hand to her chest. “María.”
“Great, María. Thanks for coming, but I won’t need you.”