I strut back out to the sitting area where Leira now lounges on the couch.
“You were supposed to take a shower, not treat yourself to a fucking spa day!” I growl.
She just stares at me, eyes wide with innocence, then shrugs, not even attempting to apologize.
“You do realize I’m the one paying for this room that you are so willingly taking advantage of?”
“Willingly?” she hiccups an incredulous laugh.
“You have my permission to go,” I say, waving toward the door.
“And that photo?”
“I should publish it just to punish you.”
She shoots up from the couch and snarls at me. “You would be the kind of asshole to do something like that, just because I took too long a shower.”
“Too long a shower? It looks like a disaster area in there!”
“Excuse me if I have needs. My clothes were filthy. This hair requires an entire regimen to keep manageable. And yes, as you so blithely put it, I did want to wash the sins of the day away. Thanks for the suggestion. Now you know what it’s like to feel dirty. Enjoy your shower.”
“Oh…don’t act like you didn’t enjoy every moment of it,” I say, coming in closer, so I’m right in her face.
She inhales as though offended, just before her eyes turn in to slits. “And don’t you act like you did something special. I’m sure it’s easy enough to get a big head when you know you’re the only one who’s done it to that woman.”
I pause, my mouth curling into a grin. “Am I the first?”
“W-what?” Her thick eyelashes flutter in bewilderment.
I reach out and whisk the towel wrapped around her head away. She yelps in surprise, then moans in protest when my hand sinks into those damp curls that probably used at least half of the towels in there.
“The first man to use his lips on yours.”
Her eyes dart back and forth in confusion, trying to figure that one out before she realizes which lips I’m talking about. Her face darkens a shade or two when it hits her.
“Let go of me.”
“Answer the question.”
“No.”
“No, as in I’m not the first? Or no, as in, you’re not going to answer.”
“No, as in no!”
I simply hold her in place, enjoying the way she defies me. Pretty soon, she’ll start getting physical. I can already feel my self getting hard at the thought.
“Está bien,” I say in a low, seductive voice. “We both know there’s one first you can’t deny. I look forward to you not just giving it to me, but begging me to take it…Sister.”
The slap comes swift and hard. I wouldn’t expect anything less from diabla mía.
I laugh and let go of her hair.
“The day I ever let you anywhere near me again is the day I—”
I place one finger against her lips. “Shhh…what happened to your vow of silence?” I scold in a mocking voice.
She slaps my hand away.
“I’ll show you just how loud I can be.”
I grin. “I look forward to that.”
Her mouth tightens when she realizes how I’ve interpreted that.
“Don’t you have a shower to take?” she spits.
“Yes,” I say, still with the grin plastered on my face. “I’m feeling especially dirty.”
I leave her, having had the very satisfying last word, all while her mind and mouth still work on some smart comeback.
* * *
Any satisfaction I got earlier was quickly diminished by having only a washcloth and a used, wet bar of soap to clean with.
The only thing to dry off with is the second robe hanging on the back of the door. I sigh and use it to pat away most of the dampness before throwing it on. I wince as I glimpse myself in the mirror, noting that I look like some overly-pampered billionaire. The very kind I’m used to robbing.
I throw open the door and walk out to the sitting room where Leira is once again lounging on the couch. “Next time we shower together. I’m realizing I have to keep a closer eye on you than I thought.”
“En sus sueños,” she retorts.
“She’s fluent in the local language after all,” I say with a smirk. “But you’re too late. You’ve already made a guest appearance in my dreams, Diabla.”
Leira just rolls her eyes and continues watching TV.
“We’re stuck here for the night, and I’m feeling particularly ravenous,” I say, feeling my stomach begin to growl.
“I hope that’s not a euphemism,” she says, eyeing me with suspicion. “I meant what I said about letting you anywhere near me again.”
“Considering what I’ve managed to get you to succumb to in less than a day, I like my chances,” I reply with a smirk. “But I was thinking more along the lines of room service.”
She glares at me but sits up, looking as hungry as I feel.
“We’ll call a truce for now. I’ll order up more towels and toiletries while we’re at it. In the morning, I get the first shower.”
“Fair enough,” she replies with a smirk. “I’m sure come morning, I’ll be just as clean as I am now.”
Chapter Twenty-Six Leira
Room service has been ordered, and replacement towels and toiletries have been supplied.
Enrique and I are sitting at the table near the window to enjoy our dinner, both of us still in bathrobes. He’s ordered steak, and I’ve ordered a hamburger, mostly to have at least a familiar taste of home.
He leans over to pour me a glass from the bottle of red wine he also ordered.
“No thanks, that sangria already got me into trouble. Besides, I’m still feeling the headache from it.”
“All the more reason,” he says, continuing to pour. “Para quitar la resaca mas alcohol. I believe you would call it ‘hair of the dog’ in America. Trust me, this will help.”
“I don’t think that’s a literal translation. To get rid of…resaca, is that the word for hangover in Spanish? To get rid of the hangover, more alcohol? The English version doesn’t even make sense.”
“Don’t ask me to explain the ways of your
