“It’s funny that you talk about principles when you were the one with a secret fiancée. Or was I the secret mistress?”
He unfolded from the tile deck, rose to his full height. “The only secrets were the ones you kept while you lied to me about your true reasons for being at the Villa de Música.”
Rebecca shook her head softly, stopped when a wave of nausea threatened. “You’re unbelievable, Alejandro. You say I lied to you and stole your deal, but you were the one using me to learn how to expand your reach beyond Spain—”
“What?” He looked incredulous, his voice snapping into the night like a whip.
Rebecca shoved herself to her feet. The movement was too quick and she almost sank to the ground, but Alejandro reached out and steadied her.
“I’m fine,” she said, shrugging away from his touch. “We talked all the time, Alejandro. You asked me about every detail of the business, and I told you all I knew. You used me.”
His hand dropped away. “I did not need you to succeed, Rebecca,” he said coldly. “That I now own Layton International is proof of that, don’t you think?”
She wrapped her arms around her wet body, her teeth beginning to chatter though she was burning up with fury on the inside. No, he hadn’t needed her at all. Not in the way she’d wanted anyway. “You got lucky.”
“Lucky? I make my own luck, querida. I don’t wait for chance.”
One temple throbbed with the beginnings of a headache. He’d gotten lucky because her father made mistakes, took risks. If making his own luck meant watching Layton International like a panther and pouncing when they were crippled beneath the weight of obligations, then fine, he hadn’t left anything to chance.
The exhaustion of the day sat like a lead weight on her shoulders. She just wanted to go to her room and pretend she was anywhere but here. With her ex-lover. Her ex-love.
“If you give me a few days, I’ll put together a fair offer for La Belle Amelie.”
He snapped his towel from the chaise where he’d dropped it the first time. “You may have the family antiques, Rebecca, but the hotel is not negotiable.”
“You just offered to let me buy it if I’d sleep with you.”
He laughed. “No, I asked to what lengths you would go for a hotel. I did not say I would accept the offer.”
Rebecca grabbed the papers she’d tossed onto one of the chaises. Then she spun to face him again, the documents crumpling in her chilled fist. “You can’t deny you were aroused, Alejandro. If I’d said yes, we’d be in bed right now.”
He looked bored. “I’m a man. A woman pressed against my body causes a reaction, sí. This is true of many men, I believe.”
“Some more than others, apparently. I should have believed the stories I’d read about you. When you weren’t fighting bulls, you were bedding every woman in sight. I could have saved myself a lot of trouble.”
The look he gave her was sharp. “The press enjoys telling tales. If I’d bedded half the women they accused me of, I’d have been too tired to fight and the bulls would have won.”
“Well it certainly didn’t stop you from sleeping with me and a fiancée at the same time. Were there others too?” She flung the words at him, surprised at the vehemence knotting her throat. For years, she’d thought of the face-to-face confrontation they’d never had. Would he have denied it if she’d given him the chance? Would he have apologized? He’d tried to convince her over the phone that he was not engaged. But his denials fell short because the truth was irrefutable.
“There was no one but you.”
“You were engaged,” she said, forcing the words past the wedge of pain in her throat. “I think that counts as someone else.”
“I was not engaged.”
“But you married her anyway. How convenient.”
He took a step toward her, menace rolling from him in waves. “I married her because of you, because you stole from me and left me no choice.”
This time, she stood her ground. “I didn’t steal anything. That’s a lie.”
“Of course you would say that. But it does not change the truth. When the Cahill Group informed me of their decision, they said they were investing in Layton International instead. Do you intend to tell me Roger Cahill lied?”
Rebecca tried to remember exactly what had happened then. She’d left Spain and gone to London to meet with Roger, at her father’s direction, about a financing deal. They did not discuss Ramirez Enterprises. She would have remembered since the pain of Alejandro’s betrayal was still so raw.
“We were working with Roger on a South American deal. What he and his investors decided about you had nothing to do with us.”
Alejandro snorted. “You expect me to believe that? Layton International wanted to shut out the competition. You tried to ruin me, or at least contain me to Spain.”
“No,” she said softly. “There was no reason. You weren’t important enough.”
He stiffened as if she’d dealt him a body blow. “Or good enough, sí?”
“That’s not what I meant.” Ramirez Enterprises hadn’t been big enough to be a threat at the time, but he didn’t give her a chance to explain.
“I know what you meant, querida. How difficult it must have been for you to endure my touch, yes? To sacrifice your body for the sake of your precious Layton International?” He stalked closer until he towered over her, so close she could feel the heat of his skin, could smell the mixture of chlorine and male that threatened to overwhelm her senses. “You did a fine job of playing the whore, Rebecca. You were quite natural at it. But do not worry you will ever need to lie beneath this dirty torero again. There are plenty of women who find it no chore to do so.”
His words stung. “I slept with you because I wanted to, no other
