Fierce Passion (11 page)

“Sure, I played when I was a kid. I can teach you that too.”

She’d never missed soccer but would love to have him teach her. He’d obviously earned his lean, athletic build, but he didn’t sound as though he expected her to keep up with him. He took her to a quiet place where their table overlooked the port. “There are so many lights, it looks like noon,” she exclaimed.

“The work goes on twenty-four hours a day. So there’s plenty to see day or night. They have an excellent Parrillada de Mariscos here. Do you ever eat seafood?”

“Sometimes.”

“Order whatever you like, Ana. I never talk about money, but I can afford to do whatever you like.”

She’d rather not think about money, especially where he was concerned. She chose the Amanida, a salad with shellfish, and reached across the table for his hand. “Your company is enough excitement for tonight.”

The woman at a nearby table kept glancing her way. People often asked for her autograph, and if this woman approached her, she’d have to deny who she was, or tell Alejandro the whole truth. Her appetite vanished with a soft thud.

The waiter approached, and she dipped her head to look out at the port until Alejandro had given their order and the man had turned away to bring their wine. “I’ve always wanted to go sailing on a clipper ship. There are a few left, aren’t there?”

“Yes, there are. But it must be backbreaking work, rather than as romantic as movies make it appear. Almost nothing is real in movies anymore—but you must know that.”

“I do.” The woman who’d been observing her so closely was talking with her companion and had apparently decided Ana wasn’t worth observing after all. Relieved, Ana talked easily about movies and music while they ate. They didn’t like all the same things, but nothing they differed on mattered.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you,” he admitted. “I don’t want to frighten you. If you only want to see me once a week, I’ll have to manage.”

He was such an open man and obviously unfamiliar with romantic games. “It’s good not to overdose on someone new,” she offered. “But I’m sure we can work out something without having to block out days on a calendar. Is the crema catalana good here?”

He studied her expression a long moment. “We’re going to be sensible, is that it? Fine. The crema catalana is superb. Do you want some?”

She played with a strand that had escaped her bun. “Yes, please. Fatima makes it for me sometimes.”

He signaled the waiter and ordered two. “Will Fatima be there when I take you home?”

“She doesn’t work on weekends, and she’s never there at night, but I hope you’ll meet her soon. She’s a wonderful cook, and crema catalana is easy for her. I’ve tried to make it, but the custard is never rich enough, and I’ve yet to discover the secret to grilling the sugar topping perfectly.”

He leaned back as the waiter brought their desserts. “There’s a secret to everything.”

His seductive glance made it plain he wasn’t thinking of recipes, and she nodded. “Often multiple secrets, but it makes life exciting, don’t you think?”

“Definitely.”

Ana looked for the bald man as they left the restaurant, but didn’t see him, and they weren’t followed to her place. They parked on the street and held hands as they went through the main doors of her condo. Jacob was on the phone, speaking to a resident about a take-out delivery, and Ana waved and hurried Alejandro to the elevators. When they reached her floor, he took her key to unlock her door and opened it slowly.

“Where are the kittens?”

“I banish them to the guest bathroom when I go out. I’ll get them if you’d really like to see them.”

“Of course I want to see them. This is a beautiful place, but it doesn’t look like you.”

She grabbed a pillow from the sofa and threw it at him. “I’ve lived here for years, and it’s exactly what I want. I work in stark modern sets all the time. This is as peaceful as it comes, pretty and comfortable, even if it isn’t the latest in home design.”

“You should decorate your home the way you please,” he agreed. “I expected something more in the Goth tradition.”

She pulled the pins from her hair and shook it loose. “Stone walls, wooden benches and flickering candles? That doesn’t sound very homey.” She let the kittens out, and they chased her back to the living room. “Juliet is the black one. So far, Romeo has shown more personality.”

Alejandro loosened his tie, pulled it off and tucked it into his jacket pocket. “Do they sleep with you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry if it disappoints you, but no. Would you like coffee or tea, wine, a glass of water?”

He shook his head and came toward her. He caught her waist and tilted her head to kiss her with a gentle sweetness, and with her encouragement, he became increasingly insistent. “You always taste so good.”

“So do you. Let me take your coat.”

He shrugged out of it. “Have you ever been to a nudist colony?”

She laughed and stepped back. “No, and I’m not going. Do you like them?”

“I’ve never been either, but I spend so much time with you taking off and putting on my clothes, it might be fun to try one.”

She unbuttoned his shirt. “I believe the idea is to enjoy the tranquility of nature, not to more easily ravish your partner.”

“I’ve completely misunderstood the purpose, then.” He took her shoulders to turn her around and unzipped her dress. She’d worn turquoise lingerie tonight. “You must have an endless supply of lingerie, and this is a cute dress. You have such beautiful legs, you ought to show them off with short dresses all the time.” He knelt to untie her shoes and slipped them from her feet. Her toenails were painted a bright pink.

“Thank you. I have my own dance studio here, and dancing is the perfect exercise.”

“May I see it?”

“It’s the second bedroom. If anyone comes to visit, the living room sofa makes a bed.”

He followed her down the hallway. When she opened the door, the first thing he saw was the mirrored wall. “Do you ever make love in here?”

She had, but shook her head. “I’m discreet, remember? No one will ever hear what you and I do.” There was a straight-backed chair in the corner, and she pulled it out into the center of the room with the seat facing the mirror. She took hold of the back. “Does this give you any ideas?”

He walked up behind her and studied their reflections in the mirror. He unfastened her bra, let it drop to the chair and cupped her breasts. He rolled her nipples into tight buds. “You slip out of your clothes so easily. You ought to give me a head start.”

She covered his hands with her own. Her skin was a creamy peach, while his was deeply tanned. “Just unzip your pants.”

He kissed her shoulder. “No short cuts. I want to feel your bare skin against mine.”

“You started this, but I didn’t mean to rush you.” Romeo dashed into the room and sped out while Juliet lay down by the door to watch. “We have an audience, although she’s discreet too.”

He let her go and circled the chair to sit down and remove his shoes. “Good, but I’m taking you first.”

She kneaded his shoulders and leaned down to kiss his cheek. “There are hooks along the wall for your clothes.” Her ballet slippers dangled from the first hook, and she had tutus in the closet. Not thinking they’d use the room, she’d stacked the framed magazine covers in the closet too. She’d have to keep him too busy to look.

Once undressed, he came to stand behind her and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her arms. “I’ll bet you were a gorgeous child.”

“All people saw was my hair.” She dipped her head to let it spill over her breasts. “I was lucky, though, I liked being tall and didn’t care that much for boys when they were too short to dance with me.”

He kissed her nape with teasing nibbles. “I was born tall. We should have met sooner.”

She leaned back to rub her shoulders against his hair-roughened chest. “Maybe we wouldn’t have appreciated each other until now.”

“I’m sure I’d have appreciated you.”

She studied him in the mirror. He ran his hands over her hips and up between her legs to pull away the thong. Their reflections magnified the thrill of his slow caresses, and she leaned into him.

“Oh damn.” He left her to get a condom from his pants pocket. “Hold this for me so I can touch you.”

She placed a kiss in his palm before she took it. “Let’s put on some music.” She turned on a romantic piece she loved for dancing and swayed as she returned to him. “Do you like to dance?”

He shrugged. “I’m not very good at it.”

“I’ll teach you after I learn to ride a bike.” She looped her arms around his neck and pulled his lower lip gently through her teeth. When she turned back to the chair, he leaned over her, wrapped his arms around her waist and slid his fingertips through the soft heart on her mound. Her moisture smoothed every stroke.

The mirror gave her a provocative view, and the luscious music swirled around them to create an exotic rendezvous. Craving his intimate touch, she relaxed against him and pretended they were floating in the sea. When he asked for the condom, she’d forgotten it lay in her hand.

He used it, bent his knees to ease into her, and, braced against the chair, she pushed back to take him deep. He swirled her hair around his wrist to lift her head and kissed her. He rocked her slowly, diving in and pulling back with a heartbeat’s steady rhythm. She watched him in the mirror. With his ebony hair, he could have been another of her lovers, but she wouldn’t let memory blur his image. He was always so gentle, as though he feared she’d break, and she loved his lazy loving. He coaxed her with a deep thrust only to withdraw and pleasure her with his hand. She hung on to the chair and closed her eyes to simply feel without the distracting view.

He made her so warm her whole body felt slippery. She was so close, teetering on the rim, and then tensed as with another thrust, he sent a searing orgasm jolting through her. She felt his body throb deep within hers and savored the thrill until only the chair kept her standing. When he picked her up and carried her into her bedroom, she was amazed he still had the strength to lift her.

The room was painted a pale lavender, decorated with lace and puffed pillows and a white rug as soft as a cloud. He set her down only long enough to pull back the wide bed’s duvet and top sheet and eased her down beside him. “I want to hold you all night.”

She snuggled against him. “I’ll not set the alarm and make you go.” Romeo clawed up the end of the bed and jumped around them in frantic circles. “Damn,” she sighed. “I forgot the kittens.”

“Give me a minute, and I’ll feed them,” he promised, but the kittens had already fallen asleep by the time he was awake enough to remember.

Alejandro stood by the window when Ana woke Sunday morning. She stretched lazily and blew him a kiss. He was already dressed, and she wouldn’t beg him to come back to bed. “Good morning.”

He sat down beside her and smoothed her hair out of her eyes. “I like waking up with you, but I have a project to finish before tomorrow. I’ll try and see you at the beginning of the week. You finally gave me your number so I can call you.”

He was so earnest she couldn’t mistake his architecture assignment for an excuse to avoid her indefinitely. “Please do. Monday, I have a job that will probably take the whole day, but maybe we can have dinner together if you’re not too tired.”

He laughed and leaned down to kiss her. “Drawing blueprints isn’t as exhausting as spending the night with you, but this is a good kind of exhaustion.”

“I know.” She stretched and hugged her pillow. She longed to tell him the truth, was finally anxious to do so and promised herself she’d do it Monday night. “There’s something I need to talk to you about, but it can wait until the next time I see you.”

“You don’t have some deadly disease, do you?”

He looked horrified, and she sat up to hug him. “No, of course not. Please don’t worry.”

He returned her squeeze and stood. “I wish I didn’t have to leave and we could go to El Gato this afternoon and on down to the port.”

“Next Sunday,” she replied. She covered a wide yawn and slipped back under the covers. “See you soon.”

He kissed her cheek and left without disturbing the dozing kittens on the foot of the bed.

Sunday night, Alejandro picked up his cell phone on the first ring hoping it was Ana, and was disappointed to hear his father’s voice. He couldn’t ignore the call, or the man would persist in annoying him until he answered. It was better to get the conversation over now. “Hello. How is everyone?”

“We’re all fine. I called to ask about you. Are you and Ana still dating?”

Alejandro drew in a deep breath. His father had a lengthy list of women he regarded as suitable mates for his eldest son, and Alejandro had never liked any of them. “Yes. I’m fine and so is Ana.”

“Good. Is she also studying architecture?”

“No, she’s a photographer.”

“Really? I need you to come to the office tomorrow morning. There’s something I have to show you. I’m sure you can work it into your schedule.”

Instantly wary, Alejandro sat up straight. “What is it?”