Fierce Passion (43 page)

He took her hands as he turned. “I’ve never been jealous of another man until I met you. I’ll work on it.”

She leaned into him. “It’s all right to have a few faults, Alejandro. I’m a long way from perfect.”

“Not from where I stand. The restaurant gave me a taste of their squash soup, and it was so good I brought some along with the vegetable pasta and salad. Why don’t you hop over to the table, and I’ll serve.”

“If you insist.” She held the counter for balance and hopped away. “How long do you suppose Montoya will have to question René to get the whole story?”

He carried in the soup bowls and spoons and returned for the carton of soup and a ladle. “He may never get the truth, but we can leave it up to the courts. I noticed you had some sour cream. Would you like some on top?”

“Yes, that would be nice. Why don’t you just say you don’t want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. There, will you stop asking me questions?”

“Curiosity is a plus, not a fault.”

He looked around. “Speaking of curiosity, where are the kittens?”

“They’re in the bathroom so they won’t jump on the table while we eat.”

“Shouldn’t we be able to train them?” He gave her a spoonful of sour cream, and it floated atop the squash soup in a graceful swirl. “I’m too hungry to argue over where we’re going to live, but please think about it. The board will expect me to spend more time working than I have been this last week, and I’ll still want to see you.”

She sipped her soup and murmured softly, “This is really good. If you’ll be so busy, what does it matter where you’ll live?”

“It matters to us, Ana. If there is an
us
. I don’t want to push you where you don’t want to go, but…”

She grasped his wrist. “Stop. Let’s eat and talk later. This afternoon, I was terrified something horrible would happen to you, but you’re fine, or pretend to be, and I’d like to enjoy it. It’s probably only the calm before the next disastrous storm, but please, let’s enjoy the moment.”

“I enjoy every minute with you.” He finished his soup first. “I’ll bet there’s always a market for tasteful nude photos. With my help, you wouldn’t need Lamoreaux’s backing. You could do the project on your own.”

He looked so pleased with the idea, while she was appalled. “I’m thinking of how nice it is to be with you, and you’re dreaming up business ventures?”

“The venture is all about you.” He got up to serve the rest of their dinner. “Maybe you’d like to devote yourself to modeling maternity wear for the time being, and concentrate on photography after the baby comes. You could choose your own hours rather than having to follow a designer’s schedule.”

When he’d served her plate, she chose to focus on the meal rather than how annoyed she was with him. “The broccoli, carrots and asparagus are perfectly steamed and seasoned, and the pasta is warm and comforting. Please let me concentrate on my dinner.”

“Do you think I’m too controlling?”

“You could be. No, I take it back. You most definitely have the tendency. You can say it’s because you care for me, but you’re also bent on pleasing yourself.”

“That’s harsh.”

“We have a truce, remember? And I don’t want to delve into the past. Let’s just drop the subject.”

“Should we save it for Tuesday?”

She shook her head. “Must we?”

“No, of course not. We should agree to only disagree on something if both of us wish to discuss it.”

“That won’t work,” she pointed out. “Let’s say I want a puppy, and you say no and won’t discuss it. That wouldn’t be good. Everything would end in a stalemate.”

“You’re right. Should I assume the puppy was merely an example rather than a desire to have one?”

“Yes. Two pets are more than enough for me. Why are you smirking? Do you want me to consider you as a pet?”

“If you’ll be mine. I’ll do better at reining in my thoughts. We’re scattering my father’s ashes on Saturday. Do you want to come with me? It won’t be a long boat ride, but it would give you a chance to meet my stepmother and her sons. I forgot to tell you the best part—Rafael Mondragon is her son.”

“El Gitano,
that
Rafael Mondragon?”

“Is there another? I suppose I should ask him if he’d like to go with us to support his mother. Apparently she hid the fact she had a son in his twenties, but my father knew all along.”

“That’s an awfully important secret to hide.”

“She may have wanted to appear younger, although she must have been very young when Rafael was born. I never heard her mention she had Gypsy blood. Rafael is proud of it. The woman’s odd. You needn’t think of her as a possible mother-in-law. My mother would be the only one who matters.”

Ana sat back and folded her hands in her lap. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had such an unusual invitation, but I’d rather skip meeting your stepmother at such an unfortunate time. Once she’s over the initial shock of her husband’s death, we can get together. I have Maggie’s number if you want to contact Rafael. He’s rather difficult to get to know. Miguel thought highly of him, however. Whether or not he’d want to support his grieving mother, I don’t know. If she hid his existence, things might not be particularly good between them.”

“If you’ll give me Maggie’s number, I’ll invite them. Things couldn’t be any worse for Carlotta than they already are, and Rafael could help me raise the boys; they’re half brothers to both of us.”

“What do you plan to say when you scatter the ashes?”

He frowned, clearly perplexed. “Must I say something?”

“Isn’t some sort of personal good-bye expected? Perhaps your stepmother has something planned.”

“I’ll be happy to give her the honor. Could we talk about something else?”

While she ate slowly, he went back to the kitchen for seconds. “The weather has been lovely,” she remarked.

He laughed and leaned over to kiss her as he returned to his place. “We’re avoiding every other subject, aren’t we?”

“You avoid some, and I avoid others. Let’s take things day by day and see how we get along.”

He flashed a cocky grin. “And the nights?”

“We could live for the nights. We get along beautifully then. There, that’s a compliment for you.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” As soon as they’d finished dinner, she called Maggie Mondragon. “It’s Ana Santillan. How are you?”

“I’m thrilled to be pregnant, but the mornings are wretched. Otherwise, we’re both fine.”

“How wonderful, congratulations. You and Rafael will make beautiful babies.” Alejandro was pacing beside her, and while she smiled at him, she had no desire to disclose her own baby news. She explained why she was calling, and when Rafael took the phone, she handed it to Alejandro.

“I’m looking forward to meeting you,” he began. “We share two half brothers. Your mother is heartbroken over my father’s death, and I thought you and Maggie might want to come with us when we scatter his ashes on Saturday.”

Rafael cursed softly. “I’d not come if you were scattering her ashes, and she knows why. Good-bye.”

Alejandro returned the phone to Ana. “He sounds as though he doesn’t need a cape and sword to get the better of a bull. Maybe I’ll be better off not knowing him.”

“He’s had a difficult life, but Maggie adores him. I could invite them to come for dinner so you could meet him under better circumstances.”

His gaze narrowed. “What about Libby and Santos? Would you invite them too?”

After a musical giggle, she apologized. “I shouldn’t laugh, but he’s simply not an issue. Please don’t try and make him one. Did you bring some ice cream? I’d like to eat it off your abs, if you don’t mind.”

He caught her hands and pulled her to her feet. “I brought chocolate. Aren’t you worried about staining the sheets?”

“I plan to lick up every drop. If I miss one, we can wash the sheets easily enough, and there’s more than one set. Let me change while you get the ice cream.”

Once in her bedroom, she looked for something new and took out her red wig. It was long and curly, nearly the same seductive shade as Valeria’s. With a slinky black nightgown, she looked not only hot, but also like another woman entirely. She sprayed on a mist of a spicy perfume, turned off the lights and sat on the end of the bed to wait for him.

Alejandro flipped the light switch as he came through the door and nearly dropped the bowl of ice cream on his shoes. “My God, you’re better than a chameleon at changing your look. That is you, isn’t it, Ana?”

“Of course, it’s me. I wouldn’t share you with another woman. I’m going for a dangerous, sultry look tonight. What do you think?”

“You’ve succeeded.” He set the bowl on her nightstand, stepped out of his loafers and peeled off his socks. His shirt came off with a quick tug and his pants followed. He remained in his black silk boxers and joined her on the bed. “I’ve never had a woman lick ice cream off me. Do you do it often?”

She eyed him with a provocative stare. “Are you incapable of thinking of me as your woman, rather than the mistress of millions?”

“I didn’t mean that, and it couldn’t have been millions,” he argued. “You just made it sound fun.”

She slid her finger under the waistband of his boxers. “You won’t need these.” She rolled them over his hips to brush his erection and tossed them to his pile of clothing. “Just lean back, and I’ll do the rest.”

He stretched out as ordered but flinched as she dropped a spoonful of ice cream into his navel. “That’s cold.”

“It’s ice cream,” she chided. She licked it off, blew her warm breath over the remaining cold spot and swished her curly wig over his chest. “Better?”

He grabbed the ends of her red hair to pull her up for a kiss. She licked his lips. “Do I taste like chocolate?”

“Hmm.”

She spread ice cream over his nipples. “Tell me if you like this.”

He pressed her close. “Do you plan to tease me all night?”

“Do you have an objection?” She danced her fingertips down his belly to encircle his cock and felt him grow even harder. “I don’t feel one.”

“Bastard never objects,” he moaned.

She trailed her long curls over his hips. “Do you want him to?”

“No, never.”

“Good, I don’t want you to regret a moment of tonight.” The cast on her leg forced her into inelegant poses, but she kept him too happy to notice. “Isn’t this all a compliment?”

“Definitely.” He arched his back as she drew his cock deep into her mouth.

Stretched along his thigh, she licked and sucked and fondled his balls with a gentle cupping. She loved the way his whole body reacted to each flick of her tongue and wasn’t surprised when he yanked her into his arms. “Too much?” she asked coyly.

“It’s never too much with you.” He kissed her eyelids and earlobes before sending playful nibbles over her lips. “You have such a pretty mouth, perfect for kisses.”

She caressed his chest and teased a nipple before savoring his compliment with a deep kiss that didn’t end until he rolled her beneath him. She loved how easily he turned the night blistering hot. Wrapped in his heat, she reveled in his every thrust and gloried in a shuddering orgasm. Filled to overflowing with pleasure, she lay blissfully exhausted. She rested her head on his shoulder, and while she drifted on the edge of sleep, she could feel he was still wide awake.

“I don’t want to do anything but this,” she cooed against his chest.

“Are you calling me a boy toy?”

His voice held a deep, teasing rumble, but she rose up on her elbow to make certain he understood. “You’re good for everything, but I’m talking about myself. I’ve worked twenty years, and I don’t want to model maternity clothes or anything else for a while, or start a photography business. I only want to be with you and do nothing else—although I might learn to cook or sew and make some baby clothes. Call it an extended vacation, but please don’t make any more suggestions for my career.”

He responded with a skeptical snort. “You’ll be happy trying recipes for squash soup and sleeping with me while we wait for the baby?”

“Hmm.” She covered a wide yawn.

“Then you might as well marry me, Ana.”

She was quiet a long moment. “Not until you propose properly.”

“Diamond ring, flowers, live music?”

“Whatever you like, but it has to be a surprise, and please don’t keep me waiting too long. The marvelous proposal you claimed couldn’t be repeated didn’t exist, did it?”

“I’m sorry, no.” He hugged her tight. “But poetry can’t be rushed.”

She crawled over him and wiggled to rub his cock against her clit. “Am I rushing you?” With a teasing kiss, she swallowed any objection he might have had. She’d fallen so unforgivably hard for him, but what she truly needed was the promise of love he’d never spoken, and she wouldn’t beg for the sweet words, not now, not ever.

Chapter Twenty-One

Friday, Alejandro had to interrupt his proposal plans to see Lieutenant Montoya. The man looked even grimmer than usual. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

The lieutenant escorted him into his office. Files were neatly stacked on the desk, and as soon as Alejandro was seated, he opened one. “You’ll be relieved to learn René Charles wasn’t seriously injured. That is the man’s name. He’s a Spaniard of French descent. He claims you jumped him without provocation, and that he carries a knife for his own protection.”