detail.
But Alejandro knew the truth. So did his sister, Valencia—which was why she always found an excuse to stay in Paris with her husband—and Roberto before he’d died.
Juan enjoyed his various mistresses du jour, and Carmen enjoyed her society committees as well as a little too much wine. Still, it mostly worked for them, even if there were moments of drama. Carmen forcing a mistress out of Juan’s city apartment naked, for instance. Juan cutting off Carmen’s credit line the moment she went abroad on a shopping trip.
It was always something. As if he needed more confirmation that being chained to another person for life was bad. He’d tried it once—albeit without the drama and emotion—and that was enough. Emotionless or not, marriage wasn’t for him. Sometimes he thought it might be nice to have more children, but his sister’s children would inherit the business when it was time. He did not need to risk the heartbreak that marrying and having a child could bring ever again.
He finished inserting the studs into his shirt and sleeves and went to work on the tie. After three attempts, he was ready to ring for Señora Flores—except this was her night off and she wasn’t here.
Swearing, he grabbed his jacket and headed for the limo. The doors to the terrace were open as he passed through the Great Room. A female voice drifted to his ears and he changed direction. Something kicked him low in the gut when he emerged onto the terrace and saw her. It should surprise him, the physical jolt, but it didn’t. Not any longer, and not since he’d decided to do something about it.
Rebecca sat at the broad table under the arbor, the last rays of sunlight kissing her hair with molten gold. She had her computer open, a pen in her mouth, and a cell phone to her ear. She did not hear him approach, so he took time to study her profile. Her dark hair was unadorned, falling to her waist in soft waves that she’d gathered with a hair clip. She tucked a loose strand behind her ear, and a small diamond winked in her lobe. Her legs were crossed at the ankles as she leaned forward, concentrating on her screen and the person on the other end of the phone. She wore a short tropical print skirt. He let his gaze caress the length of those long legs before traveling up her body, over the white tank top molding her breasts, before coming to rest on her face.
He was going to enjoy taking her to his bed. His gut tightened in anticipation, his body remembering how it’d been with her all those years ago.
Dios, in spite of everything she fired his blood, made him burn to possess her.
“Do you have those projections?” she said to the person on the other end, and a jolt of awareness shot through him. He’d once had a liaison with an accountant, but his usual companions were actresses or models or idle heiresses. Rebecca, for all her pampering, knew her way around the business world. He liked that about her.
Oh yes, he’d made the right decision. He was going to thoroughly enjoy her before his revenge was complete.
She glanced sideways, her eyes widening when she saw him.
“Yes, thanks, John. Get me those numbers as soon as you can. I’ll talk to you later.” She set the phone down and offered him a wary smile. “How was your trip?”
“Tiring,” he said. He held the tie up. “Can you fix this?”
He thought vaguely that he ought to hate asking her, that he was merely confirming her opinion he was more suited to a bullring than a boardroom, but he was too irritated at the prospect of the party to care. If he expected a superior look from the spoiled woman sitting in his courtyard, he didn’t get it.
“I can try,” she said, standing, biting her lip between her teeth as she took the tie and slipped it around his neck. Her fingers were cool where they brushed his skin, and yet a spark of awareness lingered where she’d touched. Her sweet scent stole into his nostrils. He couldn’t understand why, of all the women in the world, he currently wanted this one. But he intended to have her. Now that he’d decided bedding her fit into his plans, there was no need to wait. Tonight, one way or the other, she would be his.
Awareness of her crept through him, made him