Caught off guard, Alejandro nodded rather than argue they were married when they weren’t. “Ana makes her own decisions.”
“Thank you, Lucien.” Ana untied the bow and opened the box to find a white gold bangle circled with pave diamonds. It was gorgeous, but she immediately replaced the lid. “I can’t take this.”
“Why not?” Lucien asked. “I’ve seen you wear bangles, and the dusting of diamonds doesn’t make it a costly piece. Try it on and see how you like it.”
Ana slid the beautiful bracelet onto her wrist. “This is lovely, but it’s too much, Lucien.”
“Nonsense,” the designer argued. “I want you to keep it and give me an occasional thought. That’s all I ask.”
Ana hesitated, and then left the bracelet on her wrist and dropped the jewelry box into her bag. “Thank you so much. I’ve enjoyed working with you, and the perfume ads should be fun. Let’s go home, Alejandro.”
Alejandro wouldn’t have forbidden her to take the exquisite bracelet, but he was annoyed that she’d kept it. “Yes, let’s go while there’s still time for me to get in a ride.”
Lucien accompanied them to the door. “Are you a serious cyclist, Mr. Vasquez?”
“Not serious enough to train for the Tour de France, but it’s good exercise for staying fit.”
Lucien swept him with an appraising glance. “Clearly it is.” He brought Ana’s hand to his lips and turned it to kiss her wrist. “Good-bye, dear. I’ll speak with you soon.”
Alejandro held his breath as they walked down the hall, and waited until they’d entered the elevator to speak. “Did you have to keep the bracelet?” he asked.
She turned it on her wrist. “It’s just a bracelet, Alejandro, and I want him to believe I’m looking forward to working with him again. We can’t make him suspicious about our motives.”
“Oh, of course not,” he replied in a hoarse whisper. “Refusing a gift might make him believe we don’t trust him.”
“You already know I don’t trust him. You needn’t be jealous.”
“I’m not jealous,” he insisted through clenched teeth.
She gave him an ear-tickling kiss. “You certainly sound like it. Be sure to rinse off the powder before you go out for a ride.”
He yanked a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed it off with angry swipes.
Barcelona had few bike lanes, but Alejandro still liked cruising the city. Early mornings were the best time, but that afternoon, he needed to get out and ride to clear his head. He chose the streets leading to the docks and zigzagged in and out until a black Mercedes sedan came out of a side street and began following too close. To get out of the driver’s way, he rode up on the sidewalk and grabbed a light pole for balance. As the car sped by, he made a note of the license number. Remaining uneasy, he kept a close watch on the traffic behind him, and when the sedan again appeared, he made a quick turn into a narrow alley.
He hadn’t gotten a good look at the driver’s face, but he had an impression of a big man. Whoever he was, Alejandro wouldn’t take a chance on seeing him again. He cut from alley to alley and raced for the Ortiz Line building. He left his bicycle and helmet at the security desk and went up to his office in his shorts and sweaty shirt.
Carlotta was poring over the papers on his desk. Her black suit fit her lush curves to voluptuous perfection and reminded him of a suspect in a murder mystery. “Are you looking for something in particular?” he asked.
She swept him with a disbelieving glance. “You can’t possibly expect to do business dressed like that.”
He had only meant to find a quiet place to make a phone call. “I took the day off. Please don’t move the papers on my desk, or I won’t be able to begin where I left off.”
“Your desk?” she cried. “My beloved Orlando’s body isn’t even cold.”
“He died two days ago and couldn’t still be warm. That isn’t the point though, is it? I’ll be happy to help you with whatever you need, but you can’t walk in and out the way you did when my father was alive.”
“You can’t shut me out,” she hissed. “The firm belongs to me and my boys as well as you.”
Alejandro had read the will and being the principal heir, he wasn’t fazed by her anger. “We’ll see. We could meet with the attorneys tomorrow morning to read the will if you’re free.”
“Of course, I’m free. My husband is dead. We can make plans for the funeral then. His associates are asking for details, and they need to be decided.”
“You know my father didn’t want a funeral. His directions are clear in his will.”
She clenched her fists. “He will have one of the finest funerals ever seen in all of Spain.”
Alejandro sent her a darkly disapproving glance, and she stamped out on teetering stilettos. He vaguely recalled the television coverage of Miguel Aragon’s funeral. Thousands of fans had surrounded the cathedral, but his father hadn’t been a popular matador, and the church wouldn’t be crowded if they held a funeral, which he was determined they would not.