Filthy Rich Revenge: A Filthy Rich Billionaires Book - Lynn Raye Harris Page 0,1

you’ve done before taking the train to the coast.”

He felt a twinge of something. Disappointment, maybe?

“And are you satisfied, Rebecca?”

She gave a little shiver—or maybe he imagined it. “I think it’s beautiful. Yes, very satisfied.”

He arched a brow as he shot her a look that had worked on more women than he could count. Strangely, while he wanted it to work on her as well, he also wanted something more. But what?

He was happily single. He had wealth, fame, and his pick of lovers. So why was one pretty American suddenly so intriguing?

“It’s very good to be satisfied, querida,” he said. “I make it my business to provide complete satisfaction to my guests.”

Her gaze dipped again. Was that a hint of a blush staining her cheeks?

“Then you will do well in the hotel business,” she said. “It’s all about the guest experience, after all.”

“Sí, I believe this is so.”

Her blue eyes met his. So striking. “Why did you choose hotels?”

It was not an unusual question, or unexpected. “Why not?” He shrugged. “I am finished with bullfighting, I don’t want to breed bulls, I have no desire to appear in films, and I’m not prepared to retire to the coast and grow lemons. Building a hotel empire is a challenge, is it not?”

She nodded. “It is.”

He smiled then. “I like challenges. I thrive on them.”

She sipped her wine but he didn’t miss the way her pulse thrummed in her neck. There was more to the lovely Rebecca than met the eye. She was beautiful, and she surely knew it, but she had an innocence about her that was completely at odds with her seeming worldliness. He was intrigued.

“Will you dine with me, Rebecca?”

She looked startled. And then she smiled softly. “I would be delighted, Alejandro. Thank you.”

He stood and she gaped up at him, confusion written on her features. He held out an arm. “I have a private dining room in my suite. We can talk uninterrupted, and I will ply you with the best food and wine in Madrid. There will be servers present,” he added.

She unfolded herself from her chair and slipped her arm into his. “Thank you for saying that,” she said as he led her toward the elevator. “I feel as if I should apologize for insulting you, however.”

He ushered her inside and slid his key into the card reader. “I’m not insulted, querida. It’s wise of you to consider who you spend time alone with, especially when it’s a man you’ve only just met.”

“I’m glad you understand.”

“I do.” He wasn’t going to say what he was thinking, but then he decided why not? “You should know that I intend to get you into my bed, querida. Willingly, of course.”

Her laugh was surprised. “You waste no time, do you, señor? Another man would at least get me a little drunk first.”

He liked the sound of her laugh. “I’m not like other men, Rebecca. And I believe in saying what I want.”

She leaned against the elevator wall opposite, her hands behind her as she gripped the rail. He had a brief vision of stopping the elevator and making love to her against that wall, but he wanted her in his bed the first time.

“And if I don’t want to sleep with you?”

He arched an eyebrow and grinned. “You will.”

“You are very certain of yourself,” she said with a touch of frost in her voice. But the pulse in her neck betrayed her, as did the widening of her pupils. She was as attracted to him as he was to her.

“I know my quarry. And I never fail.”

Her eyes sparkled. “Well, I suppose we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

The elevator rocked to a stop and the doors opened. “Sí,” he told her. “We will….”

1

Five years later…

“This can’t be happening,” Rebecca Layton murmured.

She lifted her stunned gaze to the floor-to-ceiling picture window fronting her Waikiki suite. Of all the times to be away from New York. Palms swayed in the tropical trade winds, danced rhythmically against white-capped turquoise waves. So beautiful and peaceful. A stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside her.

She’d just gotten off the phone with Layton International’s chief financial officer. The news wasn’t good. If she didn’t get back to New York and take control of the situation she could lose everything. Her cell phone rang again and she automatically picked it up. Very few people had her private number, and even fewer would dare disturb her when she was on a business trip.

Unless it was important.

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