CALANDRA CUPPED HER hands around her mug of tea as she watched the waves crash along the beach. The rising sun warmed her skin as she relaxed at what she’d come to think of as her table on the patio. Sea salt danced on the air. The perfect setting for rest and relaxation.
Or it would have been if her damn heart would stop kicking into overdrive every time she thought she heard someone approach. Even though her time at the culinary school had served as a welcome distraction, Alejandro had been ever-present in her mind, intruding and refusing to let her eject him from her thoughts. Already she’d made a mistake; she’d lowered her defenses at the harbor, on their walk. She’d taken the olive branch he’d offered too easily. Had it been his simple, sweet plea that he wanted to get to know her better? Or the feeling of his hand rubbing circles on the back of her hand and stirring memories of that same hand closing over her breast with a possessive heat?
Whatever it was, she’d caved. Not five minutes later, he’d shown that he didn’t trust her, that money was more important than anything else and, worst of all, that once something or someone challenged him, he shut them out.
She’d entertained the idea of calling his bluff and booking a flight back to North Carolina. But she’d be running away, tail between her legs, and merely putting off a battle that would turn into a full-scale legal war.
So she’d forced herself to carry on yesterday. She’d spent nearly three hours at the school, a three-story building with creamy blue walls covered with photos of beaming graduates and colorful culinary concoctions. Her mood had been significantly bolstered, partially because of the delectable food and partially because of the energetic company of Suzie Giordano, a short woman with a long silver braid draped over one shoulder and a booming voice. The crinkles etched into her skin that told a story of years of smiling and laughter had reminded Calandra of Aunt Norine. She’d relaxed almost instantly and even smiled back.
Suzie had given her a tour of the school, weaving in and out of the classes in session, providing tips to eager students and the occasional joke in rapid-fire French. By the time she’d sat Calandra down at a small table on the balcony on the third floor, she was almost certain that she’d found the right place. One bite of canapés Lorenzo had settled it, savoring the taste of the crispy parmesan cheese and hearty crabmeat.
Part of what had made her so successful as an event planner, especially in New York, had been her ability to identify talent and solidify new relationships. She had known as soon as she’d seen the arrangement at a floral show that the girl who’d dropped out of college would be the next sought-after florist. She’d locked in an exclusive deal with a string quartet made up of a schoolteacher, a retired army colonel and twins who ran a bookstore in SoHo.
Most would have laughed at the notion that Calandra Smythe, the ice queen herself, was capable of building relationships. When it came to the billionaires and lofty business professionals she’d worked with, that was absolutely true.
But when it came to the people those billionaires and professionals looked down on, she thrived. Her blunt words, her loyalty to those who showed up and did their job, had made her successful.
Calandra glanced up. Nine o’clock in the morning as the sun climbed higher into the Mediterranean sky. In Kitty Hawk the moon would still be up, turning the surface of the ocean into an ethereal silver that lit up her attic bedroom.
Ever since finding out about the baby, she’d looked at Aunt Norine’s house with new eyes. While it had been a refuge after her mother’s funeral, she’d resisted calling it “home.” Now, thousands of miles away, she longed for the creaky porch and the worn but stark white lace curtains that hung in the windows.
Lace curtains that, despite their overly bleached, frayed appearance, reminded her of the gauzy curtains hanging in the suite in New York, filtering the streetlights and casting shifting shadows over Alejandro’s incredible body as they’d made love.
Another memory blazed forth before she could stop it. The night of the party in New York, when four members of the cleaning crew had failed to show, she’d kicked off her heels, grabbed a trash bag and started cleaning up. It had been just after midnight, she’d been exhausted and had wanted nothing more than to crawl in bed.
She’d turned after clearing one of the tables and nearly run into Alejandro, sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, tie undone and hanging around his neck.
“What can I do?”
Those four words had rocked the foundation of who she thought him to be. He stayed for two hours, helping her pack away centerpieces, toss tablecloths into laundry baskets and, just as they’d been about to call it a night, had taken the mop he’d been wielding and performed a tango across the ballroom floor.
She’d laughed. He’d grinned, not a playboy’s smirk but a friendly, heart-melting smile that had heated her blood. They’d gotten into the elevator. Who moved first, she’d never know. They’d crashed into each other, drawn in by the power of a desire they’d been suppressing for years that had suddenly burst free and claimed them in one soul-altering kiss.
The man he’d been that night was the man her heart remembered. The man she could accept, even embrace, as the father of her child.
Although the more he talked about La Reina, the more he revealed of himself, the more she remembered their interactions over the years, how she’d started to become aware when he walked into a room or even looked forward to the conversations they’d have.
Was the man she’d started to see real? Or an illusion?
Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t trust you, her brain reminded her with cruel honesty.
Adrian had trusted her. Yes, he’d required evidence, plans, documentation. When she’d suggested an appetizer for the last release party that included BBQ sauce, she’d had to show him sales of the condiment in the United States and the recipe she’d obtained from a famous chef.
But he’d trusted her. Alejandro, on the other hand, only cared about impressing his board.
For one brief moment, when he’d tried to persuade her to try on the dress, she thought he’d seen something most people missed. That she had dreams, hopes, desires, beyond her career. That she exuded coldness because, ever since her mother’s passing, she’d had to, to stay sane, to stay strong for Johanna.
Stupid. If she just clung to the memories of him with his parade of women, the overly cheery insults he’d lobbed at her over the years, she could keep him at arm’s length.
“How was the food?” His husky voice interrupted her thoughts. Her heart jumped, but her hands stayed steady on her tea mug. She could do this.
“Delicious,” she replied. “Too bad you missed it.”
He circled the table and walked into her line of sight.
She’d only ever thought of food as delicious before. But the sight of Alejandro clad only in navy swim shorts that clung to his perfectly muscled backside had her rethinking the term.
Sun gleamed off his tan skin. Her eyes ran over his chest, the dark hair that trailed down his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his trunks. Despite the dark-colored fabric, the bulge between his thighs wasn’t hard to miss.
Her head snapped up in time to see his satisfied smirk.
“Hungry?”
The word penetrated her, stabbed her deep as it conjured up images of naked bodies, glistening with sweat and arching against each other, moving in sensual harmony. What would it be like to say yes, to take his hand and lead him back to the guest suite? She’d been a quick study their first time together. Taking control, embracing the emotions coursing through her, delighting in the approval that had glittered in his eyes as his hands had tightened on her hips and guided her up and down...
She closed her eyes for a moment. Savored the memory.
Then released it.
“I’ve already had breakfast.” She nodded toward her plate, empty except for a few bread crumbs and some strawberry leaves. “Also delicious.”
It took every ounce of self-control she had not to laugh at his look of consternation as he sat across from her.
“Glad the cooking is at least to your liking,” he muttered. He leaned over, snatched a bagel out of the basket a maid had brought out and sat back. She kept her gaze trained on his face and off his chiseled abs.
“Suzie is hosting a final tasting this evening. Appetizers, main course samplers, desserts.”
“Hmm.”
Irritation nipped any lingering attraction in the bud. “Hmm?”
He took a bite of his bagel. “Mmm-hmm.”
She barely stopped herself from slamming her mug on the table as she stood. “Well, I will tell Suzie you agreed to everything with an ‘mmm-hmm.’”
“Suzie already knows I agree.”
“What?”
He didn’t even look at her as he slathered cream cheese on his bagel. “I called her this morning. Nice woman.”
She sucked in a slow, deep breath—a better alternative to reaching across the table, grabbing the bagel basket and dumping the contents on his lap. When he did look up, those damned blue eyes were wide and innocent. The devious twinkle and quirked corner of his full lips said he was full of it and up to no good.
As usual.
“You all right, Callie?”
Her obstetrician would probably have had a fit if she could see Calandra’s blood pressure right now. She tamped down her rising irritation, at least outwardly, and summoned her iciest smile.
“What did you chat about?”
He bit into the bagel, chewing slowly and leaning farther back in his chair. She silently willed the universe to break one of the chair legs and send him tumbling back onto his arrogant ass.
“We made a few changes to tonight’s tasting.”
A throbbing started at her temples, low but persistent. “Oh?”
If he heard the warning in her tone, he blazed right past it as he bestowed his most dazzling smile on her. “You’ll like them.”
“And if I don’t?”
“You will.”
She laughed. It was that or commit murder with a bagel basket. “Of course. I should have anticipated—what did Variety call you? ‘Every commitment-minded woman’s worst nightmare’—to hire a professional to manage an event that his entire dream rests on and then interfere whenever he feels like it.”
He set the bagel down, stood and in three seconds was standing less than a foot away.
“Everyone thinks they know me from those articles.” No hint of a smile. His voice was low and dangerous. “Keep in mind, the public sees what I want them to see.”
“Ah. So you put on a show?”
“Yes.” His eyes narrowed before his gaze dipped down to her lips, then back up. “I’m not the only one in this villa who hides.”
The past ripped through her defenses and rendered her speechless. She stared at him, fighting back the retort that she wanted to deliver, that explained why she hid. Hiding had saved her in the past, saved Johanna.
Slowly, she eased herself back into her chair. The irritation slipped from Alejandro’s face as he watched her.
“What’s wrong?”
She held up a hand, gathering strength before she spoke. Alejandro sat across from her, face serious and eyes searching for answers. She resisted turning away. To do so would only invite more scrutiny. But as she lifted her mug to her lips, she glanced at him from beneath her lashes.
It wasn’t just that the depth of her feelings for Alejandro and her lack of control over them terrified the hell out of her, that made her hide and push him away. It wasn’t just the possibility of him breaking her heart. It was what would happen to her child when Alejandro left that drove her to keep him at arm’s length. She’d had years of being her mother’s caregiver to build up her walls, to cocoon herself in apathy and coldness, reserving her emotions only for Mother and Johanna.
It was the one thing that had saved her from suffering the same anguish her mother had when her father had lost interest in her, had abandoned her to living in a lakeside mansion bursting at the seams with everything a little girl could want.
Everything except love.
Love. When Alejandro had helped her in New York, when he’d treated not just her body but her with such tenderness, she’d wondered if she’d fallen a little in love. Definitely lust. But his interest in the baby, his dedication to his company...she’d gotten glimpses over the years of the real man he hid away, but she’d never anticipated a leader, a caregiver, a provider.
A lover.
She refocused on her tea. She was not in a position to evaluate him accurately.
“Morning sickness,” she finally said as he continued to stare at her.
“Bullshit.”
She arched a brow. “You might want to work on that mouth of yours before the baby arrives.”
“Don’t distract me. It’s not just the pregnancy that’s bothering you.”
A quick shrug of her shoulders. “It’s not important.”
“It is to me.”
Her hands tightened on the mug as her heart swooned. It was scary how much she wanted to believe him, to curl up in his arms and confide every dark event, every secret, surrender to being cared for.
“I appreciate that, Alejandro. I do,” she insisted when his eyes narrowed. “However, as kind as that sentiment is, I believe you’re using it to distract me from the fact that you messed up my evening.”
Her phone buzzed on the table. She picked it up and frowned as she read the text.
Confirming the change of venue for tonight’s tasting. Excited to see the yacht!
She had to read it twice before it sank in.
“Your yacht?”
Alejandro frowned. “I wanted to tell you.”
“Why?”
“So I could see a glimmer of excitement in those normally staid eyes. That or daggers.” He squinted. “Guess I got my wish. If looks could kill—”
“You would have been dead a long time ago.” She set her phone and mug on the table and gave in to the desire—no, the need—to massage her temples as the headache grew. “What game are you playing, Alejandro?”
“No game.”
“I sincerely doubt that.”
The teasing smile disappeared as his lips straightened once more. “Perhaps, instead of assuming I’m playing a game or devising a devious plot, you might instead question how your actions forced me to do this.”
Her mouth dropped. “What?”
“This week wasn’t supposed to be about work. It was to get to know each other. How is that possible when you’re running around Marseille and staying as far away as possible from me?”
The headache unleashed its fury, little pickaxes hacking away inside her head as she tried to find her footing in the conversation that had seriously spiraled out of control.
“You still had no right to interfere with my work without talking to me first.”
“So you could make an excuse?” Brittle laughter tumbled from his lips. “I have no doubt that, had I approached you, you would have tried to find a way around me just like you did when you tried to flee Paris.”
“Fleeing is an over exaggeration,” she replied coolly. Calm. She had to stay calm to maintain the upper hand.
He started to retort, then stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Regardless, the venue has been moved to my yacht. Be ready outside the villa at six.”
“Somewhere in that order I heard an invitation.”
“Hear what you want.” Alejandro stood, his body tense, frustration rolling off him in palpable waves. “So long as you’re outside by six.”
Perhaps she could accidentally knock him overboard.
“Who will be there?” she asked as he started to turn away.
“You, me, Suzie and whoever she brings. Plus my crew.”
The headache faded as warning whispered across the back of her neck. “But...just us? For dinner?”
It was like watching a predator realize it had its prey within its grasp. He leaned forward, hands tightening on the back of the chair as a sensual smile spread across his too-handsome face. “Is that a problem?”
Judging by the electricity that had slowly begun to sizzle in her veins, yes, it was a major problem.
“No. Just curious.”
The deepening smile told her he knew better. Knew that right now that heat was pooling between her thighs no matter how sternly she lectured herself to keep it together.
There would be other people on the yacht. But for all intents and purposes, they would be alone.
“Don’t think you can seduce me to get what you want.”
Alejandro circled the table, muscles rippling as he moved like a panther, swift and confident. Sun gleamed on his bare skin, and she had a frantic recollection of the golden lights from a nearby building creating the same glow on his chest as he’d slid inside her for the first time, big and hard and yet so gentle as the initial discomfort had faded, replaced with a wondrous pleasure that rippled through her with each tender thrust.
“I will get what I want, Calandra,” he said as he placed one hand on the table and one on the back of her chair, caging her between his powerful arms. “But not by seduction. When we make love again, it will be because you want me as badly as I want you.”
Even she was impressed by her own willpower and ability to keep her face blank. Because if he saw the effect he was having on her, the swirl of heat and need combined with that emotional pull that was so tempting and yet so frightening, she had no doubt he would use it in a heartbeat to make her surrender herself to him. Body and soul.
“Hold on to that fantasy, Alejandro. Because that’s the only place you’re going to see me naked ever again.”
A wolfish smile crossed his face. “We’ll see.”
Before she could pull back, he leaned down...and placed a kiss on her forehead. She should have pushed him away, far away, instead of closing her eyes and, for one brief, reckless moment, allowing herself to just feel.
And then he straightened.
“Six tonight. Don’t be late.”
And then he was gone, leaving her with the sinking feeling that she had just made a colossal mistake.