They’re probably waiting in the car in front of the house? Have they checked each house? Hired a detective?
The frown on his face is not good news.
I have no choice but to move away from him, so I dash across the lawn, slide around the house and emerge in the front of Em’s place. It’s not the best plan, but it’s better than making a scene with a lot of witnesses inside the house.
Several cars are parked in the front. One of them is Francisco’s ride. Shit. He must be there. I swivel my head, looking for Kai’s Cadillac.
No trace of his car.
I’m pretty sure there’s another car. Francisco’s ride only has two seats.
“You have nowhere to go, cariño,” Alejandro’s voice booms behind me.
He catches me behind a blooming shrub and firmly shows me to the car.
It’s the same car. Francisco’s ride.
“Get in,” he says, pissed.
“I don’t want to.”
He comes to an abrupt stop in front of me. I have to tip my face up to hold his gaze, my heels sinking into the soft ground, making me lose my balance.
I take one, two, three steps back before my back falls against the trunk of a palm tree.
It scrapes my skin.
“Ouch.”
I straighten and square my shoulders. His eyes fall into mine like boulders of fire.
“What were you doing back there?”
Is that what we’re starting with? Of all things we should be talking about right now, is that it?
Why is talking to Em’s cousin so consuming to him right now?
“Socializing,” I say.
“Uh-huh.”
He clasps his hips, and I stare at his shirt. How beautifully it stretches across his sculpted chest.
I like this Alejandro. Seemingly, each of them has a different personality. Multiple men. Some I like. Some I resent. This is getting fun. It’s more fun than I anticipated. Darker kind of fun too.
My eyes move from his chest to his lips and his eyes.
He doesn’t let out much except for a stern expression that doesn’t do much for me. Not in the least it intimidates me. I feel wicked satisfaction.
Our eyes meet and stay there, sharing a long stare that is filled with words. Lots of words.
“Where are your friends?” I toss at him in spite.
“I’m here alone.”
I spin and gesture toward Francisco’s car.
“What about him?”