The Latin Lover

They should have been on time—would have been on time if Alejandro hadn’t decided that the spa was a much more attractive option than the shower for a pre-function freshen-up and lured her in. Not that it had taken much luring, she recalled guiltily, her body still humming from the slippery pleasure. Being fashionably late had never held such appeal.

But it was obvious the assembled crowd had been anticipating his arrival. His entry was turning heads. He handed her a drink from a passing tray as they moved slowly through the room, and introduced her to various members of his team, making himself known to others he’d come to meet. Leah had never seen so many Spanish people in one place outside of Spain. His so-called ‘team’ more resembled an army, with financiers, lawyers, architects and designers. If this project had any chance of working, Alejandro would make it so.

But that was how he did business. Why merely invest when you could take over? And why merely take over when you could conquer?

And the way he worked the room—treating everyone, no matter how briefly, as somebody special, somebody integral to the team—only supported the respect she already held for his business acumen.

From across the room she heard a tinkle of laughter that set her nerves on edge.

Surely not?

She turned her head, caught a flash of red silk in the midst of a nearby group, and her heart sank. Alejandro hadn’t mentioned that his sister would be part of the team, but there she stood, Catalina Rodriguez, holding court over a cluster of men and looking more dazzling than usual.

Somehow Catalina had been cursed with the dominant Rodriguez features—the strong nose, the angled jawline—and yet somehow still managed to turn those features into a blessing, giving her femininity a strength one wasn’t used to seeing worn so blatantly on a woman. Yet on Catalina it worked, lending her a regal, unapproachable air. And tonight, in a red toga-style dress, diamonds encrusting the tiara in her upswept dark hair and flashing on her arms and fingers, she looked more beautiful and more haughty than ever. In her simple white gown, with her hair bundled into a quick up-do and unfussy silver accessories, Leah felt pale and uninteresting by comparison.

At that moment Catalina turned her head, as if awaiting Alejandro’s approach, and for a moment her eyes lit up with recognition, a smile curving that passionate red-slicked mouth—until she took in his partner for the evening and the cold fires of hell consumed every hint of warmth in her face. Leah shivered. Absence had failed to make Alejandro’s sister’s heart any fonder, that was a certainty.

‘Alejandro,’ she gushed, rattling off a line in Spanish in greeting, and ignoring Leah as if she were no more than blighted fruit. She wrapped one arm around his neck and pulled him in tight, kissing his cheeks and keeping her arm there. Possessively? Leah couldn’t help but think so as his sister angled him ever so slightly away. ‘Why couldn’t you have waited for us to travel down together? It is such a long way. We missed your company on the flight.’

He returned the greeting. ‘You had company enough. I had a few things to attend to.’

Briefly Catalina’s attention returned to Leah, her disapproval of Leah as one of those ‘things to attend to’ obvious.

‘Hello, Catalina,’ Leah offered, refusing to be cowed by the woman in spite of her enmity. ‘I didn’t realise you’d be here tonight.’

The darker woman arched one eyebrow. ‘Why wouldn’t I be here? I am part of this business. Whereas you…’

She suddenly tossed her head and gave a little laugh, patting Leah on the arm as if it didn’t really matter, as if bygones could be bygones and she’d already put such differences aside, as if she’d already effectively made her point and so had no need to say more. And she did have no need to say more—at least not to Leah.

She took her brother by the arm, blood-red talons on designer wool, drawing him away from Leah and into her circle. ‘What is more important is that you meet Jack Riverstone, the original architect for the project. You’ll want to hear his vision for the casino.’

‘You go,’ Leah assured Alejandro as he looked over his shoulder. ‘I’ll be fine.’ But she noticed he’d already turned away before she’d had a chance to smile.

Business, she thought with a rueful smile as she turned away. Casino de Diamante was all about business. Which was why she would never fit in. She hadn’t needed Catalina’s blunt reminder. She wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for her brother’s lack of business acumen, and she certainly wasn’t here for her own benefit, whatever Catalina clearly thought.

He knew exactly where she was. The speeches of welcome had been made, the introductions performed, the formalities taken care of, and he’d known where she was every second of every minute of that time.

He’d followed her with his eyes as she’d circulated. He’d seen her ready smile and her easy manner as she’d engaged in conversation, looking more like a goddess in that dress than a woman. He’d seen other eyes follow her around the room, and it had taken all his resolve to concentrate on the task at hand of building the bonds that would lubricate any deal and not sweep her away from their hungry eyes.

But now the party was winding up, the guests peeling away to prepare for the round of meetings and consultations and negotiations that would start first thing tomorrow. Now she stood on the deck, gazing out over the sandy beach to the white line of foam that marked the edge of the dark sea. Now it was time to reclaim her for his own.

He picked up two fresh glasses of champagne and turned towards the doors.

A hand on his arm halted him, the red nails biting deep. ‘What’s she doing here?’ His sister’s furtive question in their own language came with a toss of her head in Leah’s direction. ‘I thought you were through with her? Papá thought you were through with her. How can you let her back in your life after what she did?’

Catalina unhooked her fingers from his arm and slid them around one champagne flute. He let her take it, not needing right now to be reminded of their father and his wishes, needing to be reminded even less that he had ever admitted to Catalina that Leah had walked out on him. ‘She means nothing to me. We merely have—unfinished business.’

She arched one eyebrow high and pointed the flute at disapproving red lips. ‘You know Papá is eager for you to settle down. He was hoping to announce a match with Francesca de la Renta on your return.’

‘Papá can keep on hoping. I told him that I will choose who and when I marry. It is his dream to head up a dynasty, not mine.’

Her hand found his arm once again, this time more tender, and her expression was one of sympathy. ‘Alejandro,’ she soothed, ‘Papá is not well. Of course he wants to see you settled with a wife and an heir. And Francesca is so beautiful and sweet. She will be the perfect wife.’

‘Papá is strong as an ox!’

‘You know that’s not true. Otherwise he would be here with us now, barking out orders, telling us all what to do.’

Catalina was right. Their father had been a bear of a man once, but those days were gone—and, deny it all he might, each day his father’s illness drained a little more of his strength. Was he wrong to deny him the dynasty he desired? He could do much worse than Francesca. She had the perfect blood connections, and her father was an international hotelier. The benefits of the union to their combined operation would be immense. And with her sheltered upbringing and finishing school education she would make the perfect wife for a businessman. A meek and obedient hostess and a dutiful mother to his children, practically invisible.