As You Wish (The Summerhouse 3)

“I liked it better when I was an honored guest,” she mumbled.

Diego threw all her drawing supplies into a beat-up old shopping bag and put it in the front of the truck, where it was now between Alejandro’s boots.

When they pulled off the road onto a long driveway, Elise sat up. She needed to look about the place, see what she could suggest adding, or taking away. Besides the planning, if she was going to do this, she needed to learn to sell things. Like Ray, she thought. Ray who she’d never met but actually had. The confusing idea made her smile.

It looked to be a ranch. To the right was a barn next to a pasture with a few horses. In the distance was a long, low house nearly hidden in the trees. The whole place reeked of wealth.

“Do you ride?” Elise asked Alejandro in English. She was still hoping to catch him in his lie of not speaking her language.

Diego answered. “He’s played polo.”

“Really?” She leaned back to look at him as though appraising his body—which she was doing. “For some team owned by a rich woman? What else did he do for her? Manicures? Hairdressing?” She was batting her lashes at him innocently.

Alejandro’s lips twitched as he repressed a grin and he turned away to look out the window.

“Picks out her clothes for her,” Diego said. “He likes to buy shoes.”

“For him or her?”

“They share them.” Laughing, Diego stopped the truck and got out. His smile showed how happy he was. “Come on, you two. Let’s get to work.”

“Tell her I’m good at riding things other than horses,” Alejandro said in Spanish.

“Tell her yourself,” Diego said. “Better yet, don’t talk, just work.” He took the bag of drawing supplies out of the truck and handed them to Elise. “Here she comes. Sell yourself.”

“I’m not sure—” Elise began, but Alejandro put his hands on her shoulders, straightened them, then gave her a shove forward.

The woman was tall, with lots of dark hair and her face was so perfectly cared for that it was hard to guess her age. But she wasn’t young. She had on tight jeans and a cotton shirt that fit her trim body well. She walked past the two men to Elise. “You must be the designer I’ve heard so much about.”

“Me?” Elise said, then caught herself. “I mean, how nice. From which of my clients?”

Diego and Alejandro were standing over her like guardians of a temple.

“Audrey Bellmont couldn’t say enough good things about you. A dance pavilion. What a clever idea! She can invite gorgeous half-naked men and call it dancing.” She looked at Alejandro. “You might get an invitation.”

The smile left Elise’s face and she took a step toward him.

The woman looked at Elise and nodded in understanding. This man was taken. “I’m Eva Foster, and as soon as I get the men settled, we’ll go inside and talk about something I’d like to do in the back. My husband’s going to hate it, but he’ll get used to it.”

Elise stood to the side as Mrs. Foster spoke to Diego in Spanish, and unless Elise missed her guess, that was her native language. Cuban, maybe?

Mrs. Foster told Diego about the wall and clearing away some brush toward the back.

Then she looked at Alejandro and asked if he knew which end of a horse to saddle.

Elise watched as he gave Mrs. Foster a slow, easy smile that made her take a step toward him.

“If I get too close, your girlfriend will tear my hair out,” Mrs. Foster said softly in Spanish.

“She’s not mine,” he replied. “I dream of it, but she says no. I think maybe she’s afraid of me. I’m too much for her.”

Elise couldn’t help it as she narrowed her eyes at him.

Alejandro smiled back at her innocently. Supposedly, Elise had no idea what he’d said.

“One of my stable hands is out today, so saddle the black for me. As soon as I’m done with young Elise here, I have to go across the river.” She spoke in Spanish to Alejandro. “Want to go with me?”

Elise was unabashedly watching him. While it was true that there was nothing between them, at the same time, it was far from true.