14
Rebecca sipped champagne and chatted with a woman who was the wife of a Spanish television star. But her attention wasn’t on the woman as much as it was on the man sitting across from her. Alejandro was so achingly handsome it hurt. And so remote it chilled her.
From the moment they’d left the dance floor and come to the head table, he’d been closed off and cold. Of course he would never believe she hadn’t been the one to betray him. She knew that, but being here now, in the place where she’d shared so much with him, her emotions were raw.
From the moment he’d left her in the suite, she’d been on edge. She felt like an exposed nerve, reacting to every stimulus, aching with pain, wanting to escape. She’d actually hoped to see approval in his eyes when he’d first seen her at the party. The dress she’d chosen from the few the salesgirl brought fit like it was custom designed for her. The shoes were exquisite. A quick visit from one of the salon’s stylists, and her hair and makeup were perfect. Looking at herself in the mirror, she’d have never believed that a half hour before she’d been more suited for an evening by the beach rather than a formal gathering at a posh hotel.
She’d swallowed her trepidation and gone downstairs, but Alejandro was nowhere to be found. Seeing Juan Ramirez was almost a relief. The man was a carbon copy of his son, just older and more distinguished looking. He’d shown no signs of recognizing her name when she introduced herself. She’d believed he would whisk her to Alejandro. It was only after he’d pulled her into his arms and started swaying that she realized she’d been deceived. Juan was a bit of a Casanova. Rather than be impolite, she danced. And of course Alejandro chose that moment to appear. The universe had a bizarre sense of humor.
Now Alejandro sat beside his mother, listening politely while she talked about something Rebecca couldn’t understand. Complained about something more likely, judging from the expression on her face and the speed with which she spoke. Her champagne sloshed over the rim of the glass she clutched though she didn’t seem to notice. Alejandro calmly took the glass and put it on the table, away from her. A moment later, she flagged down a waiter and snagged a fresh glass.
Rebecca didn’t miss the frown Alejandro gave his mother as she drank most of the liquid at one go. Juan Ramirez chose that moment to appear and Carmen shot up out of her seat. She would have fallen down again had Alejandro not bolted up and steadied her.
The table grew quiet as Carmen railed at her husband. Rebecca might not understand Spanish, but she could tell the conversation wasn’t a pleasant one. Juan refused to look at his wife. A second later, she lunged. Alejandro stopped her, caught her close as she began to sob. Juan pushed his son out of the way and put his arms around Carmen. Oddly enough, she didn’t shove him away. She clutched his lapels and buried her face against his chest, her shoulders shaking as she cried.
Alejandro sank onto his chair, a stony expression on his face.
The woman beside Rebecca leaned toward her. “My husband tells me that Señor Ramirez has been seeing Isabella Ayala. She is a young actress, very promising.”
Rebecca blinked, her heart slowing to a crawl in her chest.
“No, no.” The woman patted Rebecca’s hand. “Juan, not Alejandro, darling. It is clear that Alejandro is smitten with you, though it is too bad about his parents.” She tsked. “This one is far more serious than usual, though. Juan may even leave Carmen for this woman. Or so my husband says. I am not so sure, however.”
A few moments later, Rebecca murmured an excuse and rose from her chair. Alejandro’s face was frozen in a blank mask as he watched his parents. He glanced over at her and she offered him a sympathetic smile. His expression didn’t change.
She hurried to the ladies’ room, needing to be alone for a minute or two. She just wanted to sit and breathe and be surrounded by muted noise rather than this discordant mix of voices, clanging dishes, and music. She wanted to think without watching Alejandro and wondering at every turn what he was feeling inside.
Rebecca sank onto one of the plush benches and gazed at her reflection. Her table companion, whose name she’d already forgotten, was wrong about Alejandro being smitten with her. But her heart ached at the look of helplessness on his face while he dealt with his parents. He masked it well, but she saw beneath the surface to the pain and anger he tried to hide. She didn’t think many would, but she did.
Because she’d once loved him.
Rebecca steeled her spine. She didn’t want to feel sympathy for him. She simply couldn’t afford it. She had to be hard, cold, ruthless. Just like him. Layton International depended on it.
Rebecca touched up her lipstick, smoothed her dress, and returned to the party. Alejandro’s parents were gone now, but Alejandro stood with a strikingly beautiful woman, his hand on her arm, his head bent close to hers as he talked. Her face seemed a little tight as she took a step away and disappeared into the crowd. Not a romantic moment then. Rebecca didn’t want to analyze the relief that washed through her at the realization.
Alejandro whirled, catching sight of her. He came and took her arm, tucked it into his. “We’re going now,” he said in clipped tones.
“Fine with me,” she replied, her pulse thumping. She didn’t like seeing him this way, didn’t like the way his emotions played over his face in the rare moments when he struggled for control. It forced her to see him as human and vulnerable, reminded her that she’d once
