The Latin Lover

‘It’s not necessary.’

‘But what if—?’

‘Someone comes looking for their money a little earlier?’ he finished for her. ‘Surely you’ve already factored that into your decision-making?’

‘You can’t suddenly leave my brother unprotected!’

‘I can,’ he said. ‘But can you?’

Whoever he was calling obviously picked up, and Alejandro started talking in his own language so rapidly that she could only make sense of the odd word or two. But she heard her brother’s name, and she had no reason to doubt he was doing exactly what he’d threatened he’d do—he was calling off his men and leaving Jordan to the criminals he’d been foolish enough to borrow money from. Her heart was beating too fast for its own good, her hands were clammy and cold, and the moral victory that had left her feeling so superior just seconds ago had turned to dust.

‘You bastard,’ she muttered as he continued the one-sided conversation. Why hadn’t he simply let her go when she’d exited his life so recently? Why did he have to come back now, when her brother was so vulnerable and she along with him? And why, after everything he’d done, after every conniving trick to get her back in his bed, did she still want him so badly that it physically hurt? ‘I hate you.’

He covered the phone with his free hand, his head angled towards her. ‘You said something?’

She sent him a look that by rights should have melted the phone clear out of his hands. ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

His head tilted, his brows drawing together, and there was a gleam in his eyes that hadn’t been there for a while. A gleam of victory that made her feel sick to the sto

mach. ‘I didn’t hear you. What did you say?’

She swallowed, but it did nothing to quell the thumping of her heart or the churning in her gut. ‘I said I’ve changed my mind. There’s no need to call off your security. Tell whoever it is that you’re paying off Jordan’s debt and I’ll do whatever you want. I…I’ll come back to you.’

He barked a brief set of instructions into the phone and snapped it closed. Their entrées arrived in the silence that followed, their glasses were topped up and the odd word was exchanged with the waiter, while all the while his eyes never left hers. Success coursed around his bloodstream like a drug, powered by a thumping heart and fuelling his body, kicking his libido into overdrive.

He had her!

And his victory was all the sweeter for the frustrations of the quest. Why had she resisted him so much? Why had she fought off his advances for so long, pretending she didn’t want him? For it had been clear from the moment he’d entered her small shop that she still burned for him, still felt that powerful kick in the guts on seeing him that he felt on seeing her, that kick that had led to the best sex he’d ever had.

And would now enjoy again.

Better still, this time he would be the one to decide when it would end.

‘To us,’ he said, raising his glass to her in a toast. ‘To successful negotiations.’

She held up her glass, her fingers white-knuckled around the stem, but she didn’t sip from it. ‘Successful blackmail, you mean?’

He allowed himself a laugh, admiring her spirit even after such a marathon struggle. It had taken longer, much longer, than he had imagined it would to convince her to come back to him. The barriers around her were like the defences of a walled city, seemingly impenetrable, almost impossible to breach. It had taken his own version of the Trojan Horse to get through those defences, but once it had the city had fallen and the prize—Leah—was his.

‘Don’t waste your energy on fighting,’ he told her. ‘You will need your strength later tonight.’

Tonight? So soon? The muscles in her thighs clamped down tight. Oh, God, had she really agreed to this? ‘But surely you can’t expect me to fulfil my end of the bargain yet?’ she countered, searching for something to cling to, searching for anything that might delay the inevitable. For a moment she thought she had. ‘Until I have proof that Jordan’s debt has been paid off. And I need to hear it from him.’

He surveyed her over the rim of his swirling glass. Then he nodded. ‘Sí, of course you are right. I will have your brother call you to assure you everything has been taken care of.’

She scoffed, shaking her head. ‘That’s not possible. It’s already past nine o’clock. Even if you wanted to, there’s no way you can fix this tonight. Nobody’s going to do business with you at this hour.’

‘May I remind you,’ he suggested as he snapped out his phone again and thumbed in a code, ‘that the people your brother is entangled with are not your regular businessmen? One sniff of getting their money back and they will come running.’ Another rapid-fire instruction was directed into the phone, another all too confident smile was directed her way before he put the phone down.

‘And now, in the meantime,’ he added, gesturing towards her plate, ‘eat.’

The delicate Asian scent of ginger and herbs had been wafting up from her plate of succulent fish cutlets, tantalising and enticing, but still she couldn’t bring herself to do more than toy with her food, barely registering the subtle and expert combinations of flavours. Alejandro was so confident he could pull this deal off tonight. How could he be so sure? And how could she think about food when so much was at stake? Not just Jordan’s future. Her future.

Scant moments later his mobile phone rang. Leah sat stiffly, her neglected entrée forgotten, while Alejandro excused himself and took the call, his eyes fixing on hers. ‘It’s your brother,’ he said, handing over the phone. ‘He wants to tell you something.’

Leah grabbed the phone as if it was a lifeline and turned away from the searing gaze opposite. ‘Jordan, are you okay?’

Her brother’s easygoing voice sounded down the line. ‘Sis, of course I’m all right. Alejandro just saved my skin.’