Seeing no restaurant or anything resembling an impromptu picnic, she glanced back at him.
With a grin, he led her towards a food truck blaring out salsa music. The ruddy-faced chef greeted them in loud, rambling Spanish.
Javier responded, his graceful hand movements drawing her attention to his strong arms and the ripped body currently clothed in dark jeans and a sea-green rugby shirt. She watched him give an order she had no hope of following before leading her to the small table set for two at the side of the truck. Pulling out a chair for her, he went back to the truck and returned with two wrapped packages, paper plates, and two bottles of water.
She opened her package to a mouth-watering barrage of flavours. Aware that Javier was watching her, she took her first bite. And groaned.
‘Dio mio.’
His grin widened. ‘Very few things beat a well-prepared Cuban sandwich.’ He passed her a bottle, then unwrapped his before taking a sizeable bite.
She took another bite. ‘It’s incredible.’
He nodded. ‘It may be Cuban but it reminds me of a dish my mother used to prepare.’ A slight frown wrinkled his brow, as if the memory was an unexpected one, but it was gone in a flash.
They’d delved far deeper into each other’s histories than she knew he normally allowed. But she couldn’t stop herself from probing deeper. ‘Is that why you prefer to live here? Because it reminds you of home?’
His jaw clenched. ‘I never had a home.’
‘You know what I mean—’
He raised dark, intense eyes to her. ‘Do I? I think we’ve got our lines crossed somewhere along the line. You had a home, albeit a brief one until your mother left. I had the equivalent of a prison, where each knock on the door either made my mother jump in fright or sick with inevitably thwarted anticipation. Neither of those two things made for anything resembling a home.’
‘But despite all that, you had a parent who loved you. Does that not count for something?’
He chewed for a long time before he swallowed and pushed the remaining sandwich away. ‘Not when you live in constant fear of being abandoned the moment the long-given promise showed signs of being fulfilled. And my father played his cards just so by keeping my mother from never giving up that her dreams would eventually come true. The end result being that I was always on tenterhooks that the only parent I had could be taken from me in the blink of an eye.’
She caught his hand in hers before she processed the action. ‘I’m sorry.’
For a stark moment, he seemed perturbed by her sympathy. Then his lashes swept down. With a nod, he linked his fingers with hers, and grabbed his water bottle with his other hand. ‘Finish your meal, querida. You have an afternoon of stimulating me to be getting on with.’
His low, deep laugh at her blush fired up her already scorching arousal. He didn’t let up the sweltering possessive looks as he led her back to his car and slid behind the wheel. Nor did he make any bones about giving his staff the afternoon off once they returned home.
The moment the staff vacated the premises, he slid her dress over her head. Then he finally took her on the sweeping staircase, the way he’d threatened to three years ago.
* * *
The rest of the week continued in the same vein, with the exception of Javier working less and less each day. It was almost as if once he got into the rhythm of having time off, he threw himself into it with the same ruthless vigour he pursued every other area of his life. By the end of their first weekend, he’d introduced her to a high-speed trip on his latest speedboat—the JS1—a food tour of Little Havana, and sunbathing in the nude on his private beach. He’d swayed her through sensual salsa moves at an exclusive nightclub, which had abruptly ended when he’d dragged her off the dance floor and into his limo. They hadn’t made it home and Carla had experienced her first, sizzling lovemaking session in the back of a car.
The only hiccup had arrived when Javier had proclaimed the nightclub to be the ideal venue for the tequila shoot and introduced her to his new, female, creative director. Her guarded query as to Darren’s whereabouts had earned her a hard stare, followed by a terse, ‘He’s been promoted to head up a fascinating new project. In Alaska.’
Her wince hadn’t gone unnoticed. Luckily, he’d let the moment pass.
By the middle of their second week, sensing his restlessness, Carla proposed a tentative start to the shoot. Jemma, the creative director, had hinted they could start with some strategic publicity shots that wouldn’t show her cast.
They arrived at the nightclub just after lunch. The lights were dimmed but, with no customers around, the hexagonal seats and the glittering gold chandeliers lent the place an even more special feel. The crew of ten bustled about setting up the stage, and for the first time in a long time Carla felt a buzz.
The six costumes comprising three designer gowns and three cocktail dresses chosen for the shoot were sublimely beautiful, and when she took her place on the marker for the photographer, she couldn’t stop the smile that curved her lips.
Javier came up behind her as she stood on the railing of the balcony that fed two wide, sweeping staircases. ‘You seem pleased, querida.’
Her smile stretched, just as her heart had begun to expand with joy each time he used that endearment. ‘I didn’t think I’d enjoy this, but now that it’s happening, I like it.’
‘Why did you think you wouldn’t enjoy it? You’ve done other sponsored shoots before.’
She shrugged, her gaze taking in the tiny platinum lights that glittered the dance floor. ‘Yes, but wearing a watch or the latest ski jacket is different than this. This is a whole new experience.’ An experience heightened by the man who stood so close, she could feel his warmth all around her; smell his powerfully unique scent. Both made her want to turn around, burrow into him and drown in that sensation.
She kept her ground, barely, as his arms rested on the railing on either side of her hips. ‘In that case, enjoy it to the max. But don’t lose sight of the depth of your talent. I’ve seen you skate. You may not have chosen that career for yourself, but you excel at it because it comes from your soul. Take a break if you need to—we’ll work something out—but never forget the gift you’ve been given.’