He didn’t stop touching her, didn’t give her a chance to react before he slipped a finger inside her, stroked her hot, wet walls. Sensation spun her higher, rocketed her toward the peak.
But Alejandro’s heart was no longer in it. She could see the disconnect in his expression. Icy anger had been replaced by cool neutrality. He was completely unaffected while she was close to a meltdown.
Why had she mentioned the hotel? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Stop,” she said, fighting her body’s reaction. Fighting him.
“Are you certain?” His thumb moved faster against her sensitive flesh, sent pleasure spiking.
“Yes, stop,” she gasped.
Too late. A wave of sensation crashed over her neglected senses, hurtling her into forgotten pleasure. Her body left her brain behind as she quivered and moaned in his arms.
Alejandro didn’t stop touching her, kept the pleasure spiking and cresting. His mouth touched hers. Softly, sweetly, completely at odds with the look he’d given her when she’d mentioned the hotel.
“Alejandro,” she gasped when he nuzzled her ear, whispering something in Spanish. She had to explain, had to make him understand. “About the hotel—”
She felt him stiffen.
“Sí, the hotel,” he said, pushing away from her suddenly. Water dripped from his tanned skin, glistened over the molded perfection of his lips. Every line of his face was set in a hard angle as he glared at her. “Would you care to ask me for something else before you allow me into your body? Name your price, Rebecca, for surely I am desperate for you and will give you anything you wish.”
Ice dripped from his words, freezing the languid warmth swimming in her veins. “That’s not what I meant—”
“No, of course not. You meant to ask for more. How often have you lain on your back to get what you want from a man, I wonder?”
Rebecca shoved at his chest, forcing him to let her go. She gripped the ladder to keep from sliding beneath the surface. Her body still tingled from his touch, and yet she’d never felt colder and more alone in her life.
“How can you be so cruel?” she demanded. “I’m not a cheap whore—”
“No, you are actually quite expensive—”
“Stop interrupting me, dammit!” she shouted, uncaring who might hear or come running to see what was going on. “You push and push, Alejandro, and you have no idea what you’re talking about.” She sucked in a breath to stop her angry tears, and then rushed on. “You’re a cruel bitter man that no woman could ever love for very long! It’s no wonder your wife left you after Anya died—”
Rebecca slapped a hand over her mouth as the words left her.
A muscle ticked in Alejandro’s jaw as he glared at her. And yet something in his hard stare had changed. There was a moment, when she’d said it, that she would have sworn he flinched. That defeated look crossed his features again, but only for a second.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” she blurted.
“Sí, you said exactly what you wanted to say.” He crowded her against the ladder so suddenly she gasped. “And now I say to you that you are a whore who will sleep with anyone, tell any lies, in order to win. You and I are much alike in our willingness to do whatever it takes, no?”
Her chest rose and fell, her emotions on the edge of a precipice. “I am nothing like you.”
“You only lie to yourself, Rebecca, because I know the truth.” He leaned down until his breath was hot on her cheek. “Remember when you think to fool me again that I am twice as ruthless as you. I will always win.”
Sadness gripped her as she looked at his proud, cold, hard features. He’d changed so much in five years. The life and spark of him was extinguished, leaving nothing but a shell.
“How can you call it winning, Alejandro, if it makes you so miserable?”
10
Alejandro sat in the plush leather club chair and buckled his seat belt as the pilot announced they were next in line for take-off. Moments later, the Ramirez corporate jet lifted into the air, banking to the right to give him a spectacular view of the financial district and, far beyond, the residential section where his villa lay. Where Rebecca still slept.
Was it only three hours ago he’d held her in his arms and watched the ecstasy on her face when she’d shattered? Dios, in that moment he’d strongly considered forsaking his vow not to bed her. She was vibrant. She’d pulsed with life in his arms.
And he’d wanted to feel it with her. After his divorce, he’d tried to lose himself in a string of women, to forget what he’d lost when he’d lost his child. Every encounter was empty, cold. He’d thought he would feel relief when it was over, but he felt nothing. Nothing.
His heart was frozen. He’d felt nothing since Anya died. Until Rebecca had walked into his house two days ago and glared at him with all the hurt and loneliness she’d ever felt shining in her eyes.
He wanted to ruin her. And he wanted to possess her. It made no sense, though he usually prided himself on making decisions based on sound judgment.
He took a sip of the whiskey the flight attendant had provided. It went down smooth and warm, but it didn’t take his thoughts off Rebecca.
This desire for her was simply a physical need. He could have almost forgotten she had an ulterior motive last night had she not made the mistake of mentioning the hotel. Another moment, another hot kiss, and he’d have been so deep inside her he’d still be entangled in bed with her instead of flying to Dubai to meet with the government officials holding up his construction.
The bell dinged that signaled the jet had reached ten thousand feet, but he made no move to turn his phone back
