Surprisingly, relief passed over me—and with that, my irritation was free to return. Especially with myself over finding out that my gut reaction to Cristiano in danger wasn’t joy, but . . . concern.
“Is there anything else, Natalia?”
“Yes,” I said. “About a million things.”
I thought I heard his breathy chuckle through the phone. “Will you call me tonight?”
“No.”
“I like seeing your name light up my phone, mi amor. Call me when you’re in bed, and tell me how it went with Pilar.”
He hung up before I could protest.
I hurried down one floor and followed voices to one of the bedrooms. Pilar stood at the foot of a bed, gaping at the ornate, four-poster frame, large window overlooking the water, and beamed ceiling. “Do you have a room like this?” she asked me as I entered. “There’s a fireplace.”
“Yes, I do,” I muttered. “Cristiano’s room.”
“Oh . . .” Concern creased her forehead as understanding dawned. “Oh, no. I mean, of course. It makes sense, but—I’m sorry.”
Alejandro, standing in the doorway of the walk-in closet, stared at us with one eyebrow arched as if we were speaking another language. “Jaz will unpack your things,” he said.
“I spoke to Cristiano,” I said, pursing my lips at Alejo before turning to my friend. “You’re not stuck here forever—just for the weekend. Did you have plans?”
Pilar sat on the edge of the bed. “Well, Manu’s arroz con leche—”
“Never mind the arroz con leche,” I said, exasperated.
“He really likes it,” she said slowly. “He expects it. When I don’t bring it over, he won’t be happy.”
Alejandro typed something into his cell phone. “Manu’s the fiancé?” he asked without looking up.
“If Manu has a problem, he can take it up with Cristiano,” I said, ignoring Alejandro. What did he care?
“I don’t know,” Pilar hedged, sticking a fingernail between her front teeth. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t worry. Any man in his right mind wouldn’t challenge the Calavera cartel,” I reassured Pilar and sighed. There was nothing really left to say. “Did you bring a bathing suit?”
“No sé.” She glanced at Alejandro. “Did I?”
“There’s one in the closet,” he said. “Cristiano gave me a list of things to pick up.”
“And I was at the top of it,” Pilar said.
Alejandro laughed heartily, while I just stared at her. She wasn’t generally one to make jokes, especially in a tense situation. “Go change,” I told her, tearing my glare from Alejandro. “We’ll get in the pool. It’s supposed to be especially warm today.”
Alejandro tucked his phone back in his pocket, dipped his head, and left the room, closing the door after himself.
In the walk-in closet, Pilar’s little suitcase sat in one corner, but I wasn’t sure why Alejandro had bothered with it. We found ourselves staring at enough outfits to last her a month. “Jesus,” I muttered to myself. “What, does Cristiano own a woman’s clothing brand?”
“Is this stuff yours?” she asked me.
“I think it’s for you.” I shook my head. “Cristiano’s doing.”
She fingered a light, floral dress. “This is from that boutique you and I go to in the plaza at home. Do you think Alejandro went shopping for me?”
Alejandro was no Cristiano, but he was certainly a big, burly, scarred—and armed—guy who had no business shopping for women’s apparel.
Pilar and I exchanged a look and despite myself, I laughed. Taking my cue, she also giggled.
At the dresser, I opened drawers until I found a couple bathing suits. “Imagine what the salesgirl thought when a man like him bought all this,” I said, handing her the only one-piece. “There’s even a sun hat.”
“I think maybe she didn’t notice,” Pilar said, pretending to inspect the suit’s fabric as she blushed.
“What does that mean?”
“Oh, come on. You didn’t notice?” she asked. “His face is a bit distracting.”
I lowered my voice. “He is handsome,” I agreed. “And he may be nice. But he’s also dangerous, Pilar. All these guys are.”
Her emerald eyes turned into big, sparkly gems. “I didn’t mean—I was just saying . . . I don’t mean that anything makes up for what Cristiano did. I’m sorry I laughed earlier.”
“Don’t be sorry,” I said gently and pulled her into a hug. “Laughter is good. That’s why Cristiano brought you here—he knew it would make me happy.”
She drew back, her eyebrows cinched. “Really?”
“Yes.” I needed to try to stay positive about him and my situation. It would be a lot easier on Pilar if she felt safe and realized I wasn’t in any immediate danger.
I went to leave the closet—Pilar was as modest as it came and wouldn’t even change in front of me—but she stopped me. “Are . . . are there cameras in the house?”
“Not in the bedrooms.”
She mouthed, “Microphones?”
“No, at least I don’t think so,” I said, frowning. “The house isn’t surveilled to spy on us. It’s to protect us.” I rolled my eyes inwardly. That was something Cristiano would say.