When she looked so vulnerable, he couldn’t refuse
. “I will.”
The penthouse’s stark furnishings and modern paintings gave it the appearance of an art gallery rather than a comfortable home, and Alejandro moved to a corner to stay out of the way. Gael had remained by Carlotta’s side; the boys seemed to know him. His firm built components for their cruise ships. Alejandro had seen him often when he’d worked with his father before returning to the university. Gael had been widowed several years prior, but Alejandro thought it far too soon for him to hit on his stepmother. Maybe he was simply showing the abundant sympathy the woman craved.
Grateful Carlotta would be surrounded by sympathetic friends for the remainder of the day, he turned his attention to his brothers. The boys were in their room playing a video game. When he came to the open door, his gaze was immediately drawn to the poster of Santos Aragon on the wall above their desks. Santos was posed on his toes and twirling his cape as a mammoth Miura bull tore by him. The handsome matador had signed the poster, which made it all the more valuable to the boys.
Rodrigo won the round and jumped up to cheer. He looked surprised to find Alejandro at their door and tapped Francisco’s shoulder so he’d notice. “Will you take us out on a boat again?”
“Yes, we’ll do it soon.” He left them each with his card. “Tape them to your desk. Call me if you need anything at all. Your mother and I will work out a schedule so I can see you more often, and we’ll plan something you two really want to do.”
The boys nodded and got back to their game. Alejandro wasn’t certain what the boys might like to do—maybe take karate lessons—but he’d see they got to do it. His father couldn’t have had much time for them, and they were too young to grow up without a father, or someone who’d willingly take his place.
Ana spent Saturday morning at her favorite spa. A massage, manicure, pedicure and a new hairstyle with abundant curls had melted the last of yesterday’s lingering tension. She’d been home only a few minutes when Alejandro called, and he didn’t give her a chance to apologize.
“Montoya wants to see us. Apparently there’re some complications we didn’t anticipate. Do you have time to come with me?”
“Yes, I’ll wait for you downstairs.”
He looked preoccupied when he came to the condo door, but he swept her with an appreciate glance and broke into a cocky grin. “That’s just not fair.”
She’d put on a short yellow dress with lime-green trim and a matching green jacket and looked down to see if something were wrong. “What do you mean?”
He helped her into his SUV, got in and just stared at her. “You look even more beautiful than usual. Did you just come in from a job?”
“No, I was at a spa. Maybe I’ll go again on Monday if it dazzles you.”
“You always dazzle me. I don’t know what Montoya wants, but it didn’t sound good, and I don’t want to imagine what it might be.”
She’d known he couldn’t stay angry with her and apologized as soon as she’d buckled her seat belt. “You were right yesterday. My plan was foolish. While it may have succeeded in some respects, I shouldn’t have risked meeting Lamoreaux when there was no way to accurately predict how he’d react.”
He leaned over to kiss her. “You’re forgiven, but I shouldn’t have gotten so angry with you. I hadn’t told you how René Charles was caught, and that was a major part of the problem.”
She leaned against her window to search his expression. He’d grown so serious it frightened her. “Tell me now.”
He gave her as brief an explanation as he’d written in his statement. “I’d wanted to lure Charles out so Montoya could arrest him, not fight him hand to hand. I was certain your plan could prove equally dangerous, and it did. I was mad at myself for not stopping you when you first thought of it.”
“We really need to tell each other the truth, whether it’s scary or not.”
“I’ve nothing less to confess. Do you?”
She gave her lips a suggestive lick. “Give me a while to think, and maybe I can come up with something.”
He caressed her cheek gently. “If it’s forgotten, let it go.”
Montoya met them at the front desk and escorted them to his office. Once they were seated, he leaned back in his chair. “While you’re here, Miss Santillan, you can give us your statement. Unfortunately, René Charles wasn’t fazed when he learned Lamoreaux had been arrested. It had been my hope he’d negotiate with whatever information he had about the man, but he’s sticking to his original story, although now he blames steroids for causing the murderous rage that cost Campos his life.
“As for Lamoreaux, he claims he contacted Mr. Campos because he admired his fashion photography and hoped Jaime could convince you to pose in a collection of nudes. When Jaime told him you wouldn’t even discuss being photographed in the nude, he says he had to be satisfied with hiring you for ads for his shoes. He was very pleased with them, by the way. He spent some time praising your beauty before I could convince him to focus on yesterday afternoon.”
Ana sat forward. “Are you saying there’s no way to tie Lamoreaux to Jaime’s death if René Charles won’t give you one?”
Montoya responded with a helpless shrug. “René says he’d worked as Lamoreaux’s chauffeur when the designer was in Barcelona. He told us Lamoreaux owns a popular French BD/SM magazine; he models sometimes, and that’s how they met.”
“I’ll bet Lamoreaux doesn’t brag about that,” Alejandro interjected.
Ana touched his knee. “He wouldn’t dare, or it would ruin his reputation in high fashion.”
Montoya nodded. “I’m also wondering what he would have done with the photos had you posed in the nude. He would probably have made the most of them. He might even have thought he could force you into a relationship with the promise he’d not publish them in his magazine.”