Lexie asked impulsively, ‘What happened?’
He looked rueful. ‘I had issues with someone being smarter than me.’ And then he said, ‘I’m a hustler, Lexie. I go to these forums and meetings because I have inherited and manage a vast legacy. For a long time I thought I wanted to do what my father had done and turn my back on it, but then I realised that if I did and the fortune got carved up I’d be cutting off my nose to spite my face. I realised that I enjoyed being an entrepreneur—I was good at it. And once my grandparents died I could finally put the family’s vast wealth to some good use.’
‘How old were you when they died?’
Cesar’s easiness vanished. ‘Fifteen when my grandfather died and then eighteen when my grandmother died.’
Lexie squeezed his hand but said nothing. She could see the lack of grief for them in his eyes—it was almost defiant. Her own silly heart ached to think of him taking on all that responsibility at such a young age. And as a boy growing up with no love. The thing was, she knew what that felt like—albeit on a different level.
The lack of affection in her own family had come after shattering events and had never been repaired.
The steward appeared then, to offer them some refreshments, and Cesar let her hand go. To Lexie’s relief the conversation turned to more neutral topics after that.
It felt like no time at all before they were descending into Madrid, and Lexie looked out of the window eagerly to catch her first glimpse of the capital city.
When they emerged from the plane after landing it was pleasantly warm with a hint of autumnal freshness. A car was waiting for them.
Cesar said in the back of the car, ‘We’ll go to the apartment and then I’m taking you out on a tour.’
‘Okay,’ Lexie answered. An incredibly light feeling was bubbling up inside her, and she was determined not to analyse it too carefully.
When Cesar put out his hand for her to come closer she didn’t hesitate, sliding along the back seat until she was right beside him. His arm went around her, his fingers splaying provocatively just under Lexie’s breast, making her toes curl in her shoes.
His apartment building was on a very grand, wide, tree-lined street. It was an old building, and his apartment was at the top. When he opened the door to let her in Lexie wasn’t surprised to see that the same kind of modern design as was in his castillo apartment ran through this space too. The old building was the shell, but classic furniture and abstract paintings gave it a very contemporary and slightly eclectic Art Deco aesthetic. It oozed class and luxury. Good taste.
Lexie asked, as he led her down a corridor, ‘Did you design this and your other apartment at the castillo?’
‘Yes. A friend who is an architect helped me. Luc Sanchis. He oversaw the structural work and his team did the interiors.’
‘Wow,’ Lexie said, awed. Even she’d heard of the famous constructive architect.
Cesar stopped at a door. ‘We’ve also come up with a plan to completely remodel the interior of the castillo but it’s undergoing a lengthy planning permission process. As you can imagine it’s protected because it’s so old, and we have to incorporate that integrity with the new design.’
Lexie wrinkled her nose. ‘I think it would be great... It’s an amazing building, but...’
‘Completely stuck in the Middle Ages and not in a good way?’
She smiled. ‘If you say so. I couldn’t possibly be so rude.’
He reached out and rubbed his thumb along her lower lip. Lexie’s blood sizzled. And then, as if he had to make a physical effort to stop touching her, he gritted his jaw and let his hand drop.
He pushed open the door and let her precede him. It was a bedroom, with a massive en-suite bathroom and dressing room. The same Art Deco stamp on the furnishings. She loved it.
‘This is your bedroom.’
She turned around, her heart speeding up. He was putting her bags at the bottom of the bed and turning around.
‘I’m not even going to say it, Lexie... You know I want you. But this is your space.’
Beyond touched, and reassured in a very deep place that needed reassurance, Lexie got out a husky ‘Thank you...’
* * *
A few hours later Cesar stood at the window in the reception room. He was waiting for Lexie, his hands stuck deep in the pockets of his black trousers. His hands had never itched so much in his life. The previous few hours had been both heaven and hell. Torture.
When he’d asked her how she’d like to see the city and she’d professed an interest in an open-top bus tour that was what they’d done.
He’d never done one of these tours in his life—it was completely alien to anything he’d normally do—but he had noticed them in various cities and always envied the kind of people who went on them.