Marcos was piling his plate as though he hadn’t been fed since his toddler years. “Would you like a tour of Allende,” he asked casually.
Allende. She grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.”
It occurred to her she had never imagined she could ever have one of these mornings with Marcos. Such a lavish, elegant hotel suite and such a clear, sunny day outside, a beaut
iful morning. Like husband and wife. Talking. Smiling. Laughing as they enjoyed breakfast. But they were boss and assistant, embarking on what had to be wrong. The air around them was charged with sexual tension. Really, it could very well be lightning in there.
“Did she…agree to your bid?” Virginia asked, breaking the silence. This watching him eat was a little too stimulating to her mind.
He popped a grape into his mouth. “She will.”
“She didn’t seem interested in even discussing business.”
“It’s a game.” His eyes skewered her to her seat. “She wants me to demand Allende and I won’t.”
“So you’ll play this for the entire week.”
“Not likely.” He spread cream cheese atop his bagel. “I’ll leave with an offer and let her think it over.”
Were he any other man, Virginia was sure a woman like Marissa could handle him. But he was Marcos. Nobody could think straight with him near and he was as manageable as a wild stallion to a child. “If she rejects your offer?”
He diverted his attention from his tower of gluttony and selected a newspaper among the three folded ones, calmly saying, “She’s not getting a better one, trust me.”
He yanked open El Norte. “What angered you? Yesterday?”
The cup paused halfway to her lips then clattered back down on the plate. “I heard you…discussing me. I’ve always found that annoying.”
Slowly he folded the paper and set it aside. The intense stare he leveled on her made her squirm. Those gypsy eyes, they did magic in her. Black magic. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m not.”
But her face felt hot and so did other parts of her.
His jaw tightened and a muscle in his cheek flexed. “Is it the attention? You do not like this?”
She drew in a deep breath because unfortunately there was no brown bag she could cover her face with. She had to pretend he was hallucinating. “It’s the whispering behind my back.”
“You cannot control what people whisper.” He popped a piece of his bagel into his mouth and then picked up the paper again.
“You are wrong.” How could he think that? “You can control your actions. You can give them no cause to…to whisper.”
“You’d let gossip hurt you, Virginia?”
His voice was full of such tenderness she actually felt it like a stroke. “You’ve never been hurt by words before?”
Once again, the paper was lowered. This time his eyes burned holes through her. “I said words to my father. I’ll bet my fortune that yes, they hurt.”
Something distressed her. His gaze. His tone. “You wish you took them back?”
He considered with a frown. “No. I wish he’d have taken them for what they were. The words of a wounded boy determined to break him.”
She had never known Marcos to be cruel. But he could be dangerous. He was predator, and he had been wounded. “You could never make amends with him?”
His smile was pantherlike, almost carrying a hiss. “Because of her.”
“Marcos,” she said again after a moment, even more alarmed at the harsh set of his jaw and ominous slant of his eyebrows. “Marcos, why do you want to destroy the company? You could make amends with it. Save it, mend it.”
“It would take too much effort.” He waved her off with a hand, went back to the paper. “Eat up, amor, I’m eager to show you the city.”