Fatima was hanging up her apron when Ana arrived home. “How was your day?”
Ana leaned against the kitchen counter and folded her arms over her chest. “Alejandro did wonders at distracting me, but my job for tomorrow was cancelled, and I’m worried I’ll lose other work.”
“Eggs stay fresh longer than most scandals last, and this will blow over soon. Your veggies are ready to steam, and the salad is in the bowl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Night.” She noted the time she’d arrived home in her new notebook and took a quick shower rather than soak in a bubble bath. As she ate dinner, she began a list of reasons why Jaime Campos might have been murdered. All she succeeded in doing was frightening herself silly, and she called Alejandro.
“I never heard Jaime mention a wife or girlfriend or boyfriend, but aren’t most people murdered by someone they know?”
“I’ve heard it, but a lot of provocations could push someone to murder. Are you trying to outthink the detectives?”
She’d barely tasted the vegetables on her plate and hadn’t touched the salad. “It wouldn’t be difficult, but I can’t concentrate on anything else.”
“You should have come home with me.”
“Another time. Please help me think of reasons for Jaime’s murder.”
He was silent a long moment. “All right. He was a photographer. Could he have blackmailed someone, or photographed something he shouldn’t have seen?”
“A drug deal?” She made a quick notation.
“That’s possible, or a prominent man being with a woman who wasn’t his wife?”
She pushed her chair back from the table. “Millionaires who didn’t want to be seen discussing business together?” she added.
“Government figures plotting,” Alejandro offered. “There’s also an entirely different angle with photography. You refused to pose for nudes, but could he have been producing porn, or bondage and S&M photos that attracted the wrong kind of people?”
“I see where you’re going. Barcelona is a large commercial port, and it’s possible to buy almost anything here, isn’t it?”
“I’ve not looked, but yes, I suppose so. Call security and ask if the paparazzi are still out front.”
“Give me a minute.” She came back quickly. “They’re gone, and I told the night guard to expect you.”
“Is there anything you’d like me to bring?”
“Your company is all I need.”
Alejandro parked at the side of the condo building. He scanned the street, but nothing struck him as being out of place. As he entered the building, he paused at the security desk.
“Good evening, sir,” Juan greeted him.
“Miss Santillan is expecting me.”
“Sign in, please.”
Alejandro did. “Are you armed?”
Juan stepped back. “If I have to be, sir. We lock the entrance early and don’t admit anyone we don’t recognize, unless it’s an expected guest. We all take this job seriously.”
“Good. Thank you.” Alejandro walked to the elevators and pressed the button. He was becoming as jumpy as Ana. When she opened her door wearing only a white satin robe, he framed her face with his hands and kissed her, licked her lips and spread tender kisses over her cheeks.
She kicked the door closed, took his hand and led him into her bedroom. “Let’s talk about murder later.”
He flung his sports coat toward the chair in the corner. She crawled up on the bed and leaned back to prop herself on her elbows. Her robe slid open to show a long, shapely leg. He grabbed her feet to pull her closer until her legs dangled over the end of the bed. He knelt between them. “Count this later when you want me on my knees.”
He tickled her feet and made her laugh. “I have a very poor memory. You may have to do this often.”
Kissing his way up her thighs, he grazed his knuckles along her slit in a teasing swipe. He leaned back to catch her foot and kissed her toes. “I’ve always wanted to do this.”