And she would have to return, wouldn’t she? All her things were there. Even her purse with her driver’s license and credit cards. Oh for the love of God. She ground to a stop while the foot traffic flowed around her. She had no money. She didn’t even have her phone. She couldn’t text her friend Charlotte to complain about Alejandro. She couldn’t even call for an Uber. How would she get back to Alejandro’s villa?
A hand settled on her shoulder and she whirled around, a little scream bursting from her as she stumbled backwards.
Alejandro caught her to his big warm body and kept her from falling on her ass on the cobbles. It was shocking to be pressed against him when she was so angry with him, and yet it was exhilarating too. Damn him, why did he have to affect her so much?
He seemed oblivious as he squeezed her arms before setting her carefully away. He loomed over her, so handsome and imposing in his tuxedo. His scent stole to her—warm, masculine, spicy. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze. Was that concern on his face, or was she imagining it? A moment later, his face was a hard mask. There was no concern in that expression. Only anger.
“Madre de Dios,” he swore, shrugging out of his tuxedo jacket and placing it around her shoulders. “What were you thinking running away like that? I thought you were ill!”
“I’m not. Or I won’t be if you leave me alone.”
The jacket was still warm from his body. His scent surrounded her. She wanted to shrug the garment off, but she realized she was shivering. From adrenaline or cold she wasn’t certain, but she clasped the jacket around her and held it tight like a shield.
“We will return to the car,” he said.
Rebecca shook her head like a recalcitrant child. And she just damn well didn’t care. “No, I’m not getting back in that car with you. Not yet. You spied on me, Alejandro. I hate you for that.”
One eyebrow quirked. “More than you hate me for taking Layton International away?”
She ground her teeth together and turned her head. Damn him. “No. It’s different.”
“Tell me why.”
Rebecca pulled in a deep breath, tilted her head up to look at him. His expression didn’t mock her like she expected. He looked truly curious, as if he didn’t understand why she would be so upset about him prying into her life. Why would he? Why would anyone?
“It’s not the first time it’s happened,” she said, unwilling to share more than that. “I don’t like it. It makes me feel… violated.”
“It was an investigation, not a robbery. This is common enough in business, yes?”
Too common in her life. He couldn’t understand. No one could. “It doesn’t make it right.”
“It was business.”
“Everything with you is business. But I don’t believe it, Alejandro. You brought me here because you wanted to hurt me, pay me back for what you think I did to you. Well, you’ve succeeded. Are you happy now? Can I go back to New York and forget I ever met you?”
“You would give up so easily? Leave Layton International?”
“Do I have a choice?” Why was she pushing him? This wasn’t part of her plan. She needed to stay, needed to keep Layton International viable until she could somehow get it back. She had to be involved in the day-to-day operations or she would lose the insider track to all that happened with her company.
“Perhaps you do,” he said softly.
She sucked in a shaky breath. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come back to the car. We will go home.”
Home? How could one word invoke so many feelings? But it was his home, not hers. She had no home. Her apartment was a place to sleep and store clothes. The family home had been sold when her father died. Her mother moved back to Paris. The only place that felt like home was La Belle Amelie, and that was because of her connection to the place, the fact she’d been born there when her mother’s water broke a month early.
Where was home now? She honestly didn’t know.
“I’m not getting back into that car. If you try to force me, I’ll scream.”
Alejandro’s expression went from sober to amused. “Did you not see the protest, amor? The policiá are very busy at the moment. I could drag you back by your hair like a good caveman should and no one would notice.”
She turned her head toward the archway, ignoring him. Why was it when he gave her that little half smile, she melted into a puddle? Though she was angry with him, his humor threatened her heart in a way nothing else could. She had to focus on something else, something other than the man in front of her. She pointed at the arch and the buildings beyond. “Is that like the place you took me?”
“Sí. It is the same, the Plaza Mayor. There are several entryways.”
She loved the way his voice caressed the sound: Plaza MAY-orrr. She remembered a beautiful square similar to Venice’s Piazza San Marco, though much more colorful and uniquely Spanish. There were restaurants, tapas bars, and shops beneath the portico that ran around the perimeter.
It was also the place where Alejandro had first kissed her. Sitting at a sidewalk café, sipping sherry, he’d leaned over and kissed her sweetly on the lips that first time. They’d had dinner in his suite the night before, and while he’d told her it was his goal to get her into his bed, he’d been nothing but a gentleman. When he’d asked her to let him show her the city the next day, this was where he’d brought her. It’d been everything she could do to
