Alejandro handed the menus back to our waiter and turned to face me. He wore a navy suit and a crisp white shirt, open at the collar, revealing just the tiniest glimpse of one of his many tattoos. It hadn’t escaped my attention that almost every woman in the restaurant had glanced in our direction at least once. He was probably the best looking man I had ever seen – but he was still a bastard and a devil. I could never forget that.
‘That was quite the show you put on outside,’ he said as he took a sip of his water.
‘Well, I had to make it look convincing, didn’t I? Although I’m not sure that us together is that convincing.’
He frowned at me. ‘And why is that?’
‘Oh, come on. I’m not your usual type, am I? I’m sure there are plenty of people wondering what L.A’s most eligible bachelor is doing with a slightly chubby brunette from New York.’
His frown turned to a scowl. ‘Chubby? In what world could you be ever considered chubby, Alana?’
‘In your world, Alejandro. Your world of models and actresses and women who survive on carrot juice and kale,’ I replied.
I was confident in my body, usually, and back in New York, I’d been happy to show off my curves in any weather. But here, in L.A, women had bodies that were beyond unbelievable. They all looked like they’d been airbrushed to perfection.
‘None of those women meant anything to me,’ he said dismissively.
‘And I do?’ I flashed an eyebrow at him.
‘You’re my wife, aren’t you?’ he frowned.
‘Hmm, your wife in name only.’
He narrowed his eyes at me and I wondered what was going through his mind. I felt a flush of heat between my thighs as I sat under the glare of his gaze.
‘Speaking of names. Why do the staff call you Alana?’
I frowned at him. ‘Because it’s my name. What the hell else should they call me?’
‘Mrs. Montoya,’ he snapped.
Of course. I’d only ever heard them call him Mr. Montoya, or Boss. They never used his first name.
‘I’m not Mrs. Montoya,’ I started to say and saw him scowl at me. ‘I mean, it makes me sound like your mom. And it’s too formal.’
‘It’s kind of supposed to be, isn’t it? They’re the staff.’
‘They’re your staff. But to me, they’re the people I spend most of my days and nights with,’ I replied.
I wondered if he was going to reprimand me. He was so bloody serious and had so many rules. But there was no way I was going to insist on Magda, Jacob and Hugo calling me Mrs. Montoya.
He stared at me for a few moments and was about to reply when our waiter brought the wine. When Alejandro had tasted it and confirmed it was to his liking, our waiter poured us each a glass.
I took a sip, expecting it to taste like pretty much any other red wine I had ever had, but I was surprised to find it was the most incredible wine I’d ever tasted. Rich and warm, with hints of chocolate and cherry. It almost justified its eight hundred dollar price tag.
‘So, how was your shopping trip?’ Alejandro asked as I was still savoring the aftertaste of the Rioja.
‘Good,’ I nodded as I put my glass on the table.
It had been a surprise earlier that morning when Jacob had handed me a small white envelope. It had contained a credit card, and a note on Alejandro’s personal stationery instructing me to buy whatever I needed to make his house feel more like my own. I had called him to say thank you and ask how much I was allowed to spend, and he had told me that he didn’t care, as though money meant nothing to him.
It even made me wonder if he had a heart in there after all – if only for a brief moment.
‘You said you got what you needed?’ he asked.
‘Yes.’
‘What did you buy?’ he took a sip of his wine and eyed me over the rim of his glass.
‘Just some stuff,’ I blushed. I didn’t want to tell him that I’d bought ketchup and candy.
‘What stuff?’ he pressed. ‘Am I going to come home to twelve new sofas and a new four poster bed?’
‘No. I didn’t buy anything like that,’ I snapped.
‘So, what did you buy?’
‘If you must know, I bought some bubble-bath, ketchup and candy. Oh, and my favorite teabags. A new pillow as I don’t like the ones on your bed. A couple of picture frames and some candles.’
‘That’s what you bought to make you feel at home?’ he asked with a raise of one eyebrow.
‘Yes,’ I said suddenly feeling embarrassed by my simple tastes in front of this man who thought nothing of ordering an eight hundred dollar bottle of wine with dinner.
‘Why didn’t you just ask for them to be put on the grocery list?’
‘Because there was nothing wrong with the brands you have in your house. But when I thought about what things would make your house feel more like my home, they were the things that I thought of.’
He frowned at me and I suddenly felt the need to explain myself.
‘That brand of ketchup is what my grandma used to use when I was a kid. It reminds me of her house, and that was always where I was happiest. I love English breakfast tea in the mornings. The tea you have doesn’t taste as tea-like.’
‘Not as tea-like?’ he asked as the corners of his mouth curled into a smile.
I shook my head in frustration and went on. ‘That bubble bath is the one my grandpa used to buy me every Christmas, it always makes me think of him. The candles are jasmine and that’s my favorite smell in the world. I like a nice firm pillow, and the ones in your bed are too soft. The candy was just because I love candy and there is never any in your house. And the picture frames are to put a couple of pictures of my family in. Happy now?’
He stared at me and I couldn’t read what was going through his head at all.
Did he think I was an idiot? Well, I didn’t care if he did. They were the kinds of things that mattered to me – not sofas and four poster beds.
‘You surprise me, Alana,’ he said eventually.
‘It shocks you that I’d buy things like that and not spend a fortune on pointless furniture that we don’t need?’ I challenged him.
‘Yes,’ he answered a little too quickly.
‘Well, that’s because you don’t know me at all, Alejandro.’
‘Don’t I?’ he asked, his eyes narrowed.
‘Tell me what you think you know then?’ I said as I glared back at him.
He sat back and ran a hand over his dark stubble. ‘You’re a spoiled little princess who has never had to work for anything in her life.’
I blinked at him. That wasn’t me at all. Not even close. But I reminded myself that I didn’t care what this monster thought of me. In fact the less he thought of me, the better. Maybe then he would let me go.
I leaned back in my seat and picked up my wine glass. ‘Well, in that case, you’ve got me completely nailed,’ I said as I gave him my biggest fake smile.
The rest of our dinner had passed pleasantly enough. Alejandro and I had concentrated on making small talk rather than anything more contentious. I had just finished the last bite of the most delicious steak I had ever tasted in my life and I looked up at him. He was cutting into his steak and I looked at his hands. They were large and powerful, and I suddenly had a vision of him ripping my panties off with them.
He did everything with such certainty and confidence. I squeezed my thighs together as I felt the heat building in my core. I should hate this man, and I did most of the time, so why did my body want him so badly?
Why did I have constant visions of those beautiful hands running over my body. Of him holding himself over me and …
He looked up at me and caught me staring and flashed me a wicked grin that made my insides turn to molten lava.
I was about to ask him how his steak was when I saw the flash of metal from the corner of my eye. Before I could register what was happening there was a gun pointed at my face, and Alejandro was jumping up off his seat. I stared at the barrel and could see nothing but the gun in front of me.
‘Give my regards to your father,’ I heard someone snarl, but then there was a flurry of activity around me. The next thing I knew, the gun was gone and I looked up to see Alejandro wrestling a large bearded man to the ground.
‘Pull the car around,’ he barked to someone that I couldn’t see as two of his bodyguards rushed to his side. They picked the man up from the floor and Alejandro stood up and turned to me. I stared at him open-mouthed, my legs and hands trembling like autumn leaves in a storm.
He took one large stride towards me and then scooped me into his arms. I buried my head against his chest. I didn’t want to look at all of the faces of the diners who were staring at us.
He marched out of the restaurant, holding me close to him and barking at people to get out of his way.
The next time I looked up, we were in the safety of the car. He sat back against the leather seat, with me still in his arms.
‘Drive, Jacob,’ he ordered and the car sped away from the curbside.
It was only then that I felt brave enough to look at his face, and then I was sorry that I did. He was looking at me with such concern in his eyes that it made me want to cry.
He smoothed my hair from my face. ‘Are you okay, Alana?’ he asked softly.
I nodded. I was. Thanks to him.
But, this wasn’t right. He wasn’t the good guy here. He wasn’t nice. He didn’t care about me.
I started to edge my way off his lap but he held me tight to him. ‘Alana! You’re in shock. Just sit still!’
I didn’t resist him. I didn’t want to. I remained on his lap and he loosened his grip on me. Then he slid his phone out of his pocket and made a call to someone. Most of what he said was in Spanish, but despite that, I understood the nature of the call. I suspected that the man with the gun in the restaurant wouldn’t be breathing for much longer.
It was only when he ended the call, that I felt his muscles relax.
He ran his hand up the outside of my thigh and rested it on my hip. I felt the warmth of his skin through the thin fabric of my dress, but despite that I shivered from his touch.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked again.
‘Yes,’ I whispered. ‘What was that about? He mentioned my father.’
Alejandro nodded. ‘I know. But don’t worry. He’ll be dealt with.’
‘But, what was it about?’
He tucked my hair behind my ear and looked into my eyes. ‘Your father and I have many enemies, Alana. I don’t know why that happened tonight, but I will find out. This is why I insist on you having a bodyguard whenever you leave the house. Do you understand why that’s so important now?’
‘Yes,’ I nodded. ‘But I never needed one in New York. If this is about my father …’
‘Just let me deal with it,’ he said softly. Then he reached forward, with me still on his lap, and took a bottle of whisky and a crystal tumbler from the drinks cabinet. He poured a generous measure into the glass and handed it to me.
‘Here. It will help with the shock,’ he said.
I took it from him and downed it in one. The strong liquor burned my throat and made me cough, but I handed the glass back to him.
‘More?’ he raised an eyebrow at me.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Okay,’ he said as he poured another. ‘Careful, princess. This is stronger stuff than you’ll be used to.’
I saw that as a challenge. ‘You think I can’t handle my liquor because I’m a feeble woman?’ I asked.
‘No,’ he said with a laugh. ‘I think you can’t handle fifty proof Scotch when you’re knocking it back like that.’
I knocked the second glass back too, just to prove my point.
