Fierce Passion (21 page)

Chapter Ten

Alejandro took her to dinner at a new place located atop one of Barcelona’s tallest buildings. Seated beside a floor-to-ceiling window, they had a beautiful view of the city from a near-dizzying height. “This is as close as I could get to a tree house for tonight.”

Ana reached across the table for his hand. “The lights are so pretty, but I’m afraid to look down. I’d like a tree house I could jump out of easily without needing a parachute.”

“I won’t give you any reason to jump,” he promised.

He had such a sexy smile, and she knew he meant it. She urged him to talk about his classes while they ate. He had one particularly amusing instructor, and his fellow students ranged from extremely serious to comical. “You’ll be finished soon, won’t you?”

“In a couple of weeks. I’ve interviews set up, but few firms are hiring.”

Last night, he’d been free with his advice, but she wanted only to offer encouragement. “That doesn’t mean they won’t hire you.”

He refilled her wineglass. “No, it doesn’t. I shouldn’t have given you career advice while I’m out of work.”

She appreciated his apology without gloating. “Your ideas made sense. Has your father given up on your working for him?”

“As long as I’m breathing, he won’t. Do you want to stay for dessert? Or we could go to my place and play with frosting. I bought both vanilla and chocolate.”

“That sounds so exciting, but I’d like to see the dessert menu before I choose,” she replied with forced innocence.

“Of course. They might have a crema catalana we wouldn’t want to miss.”

They did have one and their waiter described it as the best in all of Catalonia, but she blotted her mouth on her napkin and shook her head. “Let’s wait until the next time we’re here to try it.”

Alejandro requested their check, and the waiter bowed slightly but didn’t step away. “Pardon me, but several people have asked if you’re Ana Santillan, and I didn’t wish to disturb you.”

Lost in Alejandro’s company, she’d not worried about being recognized. Relieved to be herself, she smiled and nodded. “Yes, I am. Will you please wait until after we’ve gone to answer anyone who’s curious?”

“I will.”

Alejandro paid with cash and tipped the man well. He held Ana’s hand as they rode the elevator down to the parking level. “Do people usually recognize you when you go out?”

Uncertain what his real question might be, she hesitated to answer. If he was again criticizing himself for not recognizing her when they met, she didn’t want to make the matter worse. “Sometimes, like tonight, someone might think I look familiar and wonder who I am. If possible, I try to be gracious rather than standoffish.”

“That’s undoubtedly wise, but if there’s somewhere you’d rather not go, please say so.”

There was an edge to his voice, but she wouldn’t call him on it when the fact she might draw a stranger’s notice was still so new to him. It was easier to be quiet and think about frosting.

“Vanilla or chocolate?” Alejandro asked.

She leaned against the counter beside him. “Let’s begin with vanilla, but it will have to be a tiny bit or we’ll quickly get sick of the taste and each other.”

“That’s unlikely.” He opened the can, swiped a little on his finger and slid it across her lips. When he kissed her, she couldn’t stop laughing. “What’s so funny?”

She licked her lips to catch the last sweet taste. “This was my idea, I know, but maybe it wasn’t a very good one.”

“I say it was.” He washed his hands and unbuttoned his shirt. He reached for her arm, pushed up her sleeve, and put a little frosting on her inner elbow. He licked it off. “Is that better?”

“Hmm, yes. Take off your shirt, and I’ll try it on you.” He hung the white shirt on a cupboard knob and offered his arm. She reached for his hand, turned it and placed a drop of frosting on the veins showing on his inner wrist. She sucked it off and looked up. “Well?”

He let out an appreciative sigh. “I didn’t expect it to feel so good. Do it again.”

She obliged, but the frosting was so sweet, she used only a dot. He wrapped his hand around hers as she kissed his wrist, and she looked up at him. “Maybe it’s just the kisses, not the frosting that’s making it feel so good.”

The frosting forgotten, he pulled her close and kissed her. She tasted unusually sweet, but he still wanted more. “We’ll have to be careful where we put it. Let’s use a little more frosting just to make certain we don’t need it.”

She’d worn a short blue-green dress and turned for him to unzip it. They moved to the worktable. He held her hand while she stepped out of it and flung it toward the closest chair. She peeled off her black lace bra, dropped it on the table and put a dollop of frosting on a nipple. “Let’s start here.” He eased her into the chair and knelt between her legs to be at the right height. He sucked away the frosting, licked her other breast and tugged the rosy nipple gently between his teeth.

Leaning into him, she raked her fingers through his hair. They made magic together so easily, and she’d never have enough of him. “Hand me the frosting,” she whispered. He reached for the can on the table. She put a smidgen on his earlobe, sucked it off and licked the tender hollow behind it. “Your ears are as handsome as the rest of you.” She licked his other ear without bothering with frosting.

“Thank you.” He put frosting in her navel and tongued it away to make her laugh. “Maybe we should always go this slowly.” He pushed her knees farther apart and nuzzled his cheek against the smooth skin of her inner thigh.

“Take off my heels.”

He pulled them off and set them aside. “I’ve never understood how a man can have a foot fetish when there are so many more delectable parts of a woman’s body.”

Now barefoot, she rubbed her toes along his erection. “Why are you still dressed?”

He gave her a quick kiss, stood and unbuckled his belt. He kicked off his loafers, took a condom from the pocket and discarded his slacks. He wore a pair of leopard-print briefs. “You have such pretty lingerie, and I didn’t want you to grow bored with me.”

“Impossible—but the leopard print suits you.” She rose slowly and raked her fingernails lightly across his belly. He had great abs, and she caressed the hard muscles and outlining dips before sliding her hand lower to cup his familiar weight. “I appreciate the effort too.” She reached for the can of frosting and put a dab on the hollow of his shoulder. She had given him only a couple of licks when he caught her waist, sat down and pulled her astride his lap.

She dipped her finger into the frosting and, with a seductive smile, licked it off. “Are you already tired of this game?”

“No, but I’m calling a time-out.”

She eased his rock-hard cock from the slit in his briefs and rolled it between her hands. “Were you thinking of a quick break, or something longer?”

“About this long.” He covered her hand with his, took a deep breath and rolled on the condom. He pulled her thong aside and guided himself into her.

She rose up on her tiptoes to take him deep and twisted on her way down to his lap. She rocked, but he held her waist to hold her still. His silver eyes had a smoldering glint, and she was always eager to play. She clenched her inner muscles to demand more.

“That isn’t fair.”

“Of course it is,” she argued with another fluttering squeeze demanding he thrust.

He raised a hand to the back of her head and silenced her with a fevered kiss. She clung to his shoulders, rocking so he’d have to dive deep, and when he slid his hand between them to thumb her clit, she pulled him into a searing climax that melded their very souls. Locked in his arms, shivers of pleasure surged to her toes and the delicious sensation faded so slowly she floated in his embrace, completely and utterly sated.

In a lazy mood, she slid her fingers through the soft curls brushing his nape. He hadn’t used the word love, and she wouldn’t speak it first, but this was how it felt to be loved until she couldn’t ask for more.

Friday, Alejandro had class work he couldn’t avoid, and Ana didn’t see him again until Saturday afternoon when he picked her up for Jaime’s memorial service. He wore a whiskey-brown suit and striped tie, and she’d chosen a dark green wrap dress with a hemline brushing her knees. “We look appropriately sedate, don’t we?” she greeted him.

“We do. I’m not fond of memorials, but I want to go to this one. There will be people weeping, but no one will confess to killing Jaime the way they’d do in the movies. Still, I’d like to see how everyone behaves.”

“I’m curious too. Lieutenant Montoya will be there. Let’s do whatever we can to avoid him.”

“Gladly.”

Gian Carlo had given them Galen Salazar’s address, and Ana had left a message for the designer to let him know they’d be coming. When they arrived, Galen’s wife, Lena, met them at the door. She wore a black sheath with a lace collar and had pulled her dark brown hair into such a tight bun she’d raised her eyebrows into a permanently surprised arch.

Ana gave her name and Alejandro’s. Lena swept her with a critical glance and waved them on into the house without any effort to make them feel welcome. He whispered in Ana’s ear, “Was she close to Jaime?”

“I’ve no idea who is close to whom anymore.” There was a memorial book where guests signed their names, and they had to begin a new page to add theirs. There were folding chairs on the patio. They took two in the last row. Valeria waved from a seat at the front, and Ana pointed out other people she knew. Lourdes found a seat in the front. Ana was tempted to point her out to Alejandro and mention the Mallorca trip, but thought she better keep still. The seats were nearly filled when Gain Carlo dropped into the seat beside hers.

“I hope they get this over with quickly,” he leaned close to whisper.

Alejandro reached for Ana’s hand and laced his fingers in hers. She squeezed his hand and thought his effort to claim her was sweet rather than obnoxiously possessive. She watched Lieutenant Montoya move around the side of the patio. In a dark gray suit, he faded into the shadows near the wall. He appeared to be closely observing everyone who’d come. He nodded when their glances met, but she quickly looked away.

A man sat down next to Gian Carlo who looked like a bodybuilder, and his chair groaned under his weight. Montoya must have noticed him. She hadn’t seen a blond man other than Gian Carlo, but thought she’d have a better chance to sight suspects when people were standing and talking later. No one had regarded her with an accusing stare, and she wondered who’d also been questioned by the police.

Galen’s sister, a beautiful young woman with long, dark curls, began the memorial singing a hymn with a haunting melody. She had a soaring soprano, and when Alejandro’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket, he looked horrified. He checked the number and, with a nod to Ana, carried the phone inside.

Another woman?
Gian Carlo mouthed.

“Idiot,” Ana whispered back at him. It was none of her business who’d called him, but she began to worry when he didn’t quickly return. Friends were now going to the front to share their memories of Jaime. She wished she’d made a list of the jobs they’d done together to cite one. He’d always been easy to work with and professional, if she didn’t count his recent request for nude shots.

Alejandro came in quietly and retook his seat. “My father has had a stroke, and my stepmother is hysterical. Will you take Ana home, Gian Carlo?”

“I’ll be glad to.”

Ana grabbed Alejandro’s sleeve. “I want to go with you.”

“Believe me, you don’t want to meet Carlotta under these circumstances, and it might take several hours for the hospital to have the test results. My father argued about going there, so he can’t be that ill. I’ll call you when I can.”

She let him go without argument, but she was apparently more worried about his father than he was. Maybe his stepmother was an alarmist, and he didn’t expect anything the woman said to be accurate, but some people didn’t recover from a stroke. If Alejandro had to give up his dream of becoming an architect to oversee the Ortiz family’s shipping interests, she doubted anyone would be able to console him. Tears filled her eyes. She pulled a tissue from her purse to wipe them away.

“I didn’t realize you were so close to Jaime,” Gian Carlo murmured.

“We were dear friends,” she responded. When there was an opening for her to go up and speak, she praised Jaime’s talents as a photographer with sincere enthusiasm. Inspired by her remarks, Gian Carlo told about a shoot he recalled and how much Jaime’s respect for the models had meant to him.

“That was lovely,” Ana told him when he returned to his seat.

“I meant it,” he insisted.

A photographer who’d known Jaime from his war days told a frightening story of how they’d gotten cut off from the troops in Iraq and had to crawl back to camp after dark, certain they’d be mistaken for insurgents. All had ended well that night, but he missed Jaime’s friendship deeply.

Galen’s sister closed the memorial with another song. While Ana told her how much she enjoyed her voice, Lieutenant Montoya appeared at her shoulder. “Mr. Campos had a lot of friends,” he remarked.

“Don’t you?” Ana asked before she could catch herself.