“You slept well?”
“Well enough,” she said, spreading a third slice with jam. Praying he wouldn’t guess she’d done anything but. That her heart was doing double time and her nerve endings sizzled simply from being near him.
Before she knew what he was doing, he was standing beside her. He removed the clip holding her hair back and dropped it on the table as he tunneled his fingers into the loosened strands.
“Alejandro—”
“Shh.” His touch was gentle, sure—and as startling as ever. He was so close his scent invaded her senses. No chlorine this time, just expensive soap and man. Her eyes drifted closed as warmth spread through her.
“Ouch!” Her eyes snapped open again.
“It’s a small bump,” he said, his fingers exploring the swelling on her head. “Nothing serious.”
Rebecca marshaled her resolve as awareness followed hard on the heels of the warmth permeating her body. “Stop touching me,” she said, batting at his hand.
“I have experience of these things. You wouldn’t want it to be serious, would you?”
“It’s not. Leave me alone.”
A second later, he whipped off her sunglasses. She tried to pull away, but he gripped her chin firmly, his eyes searching hers. “You did not sleep well.”
Rebecca managed to jerk away. She snatched the shades from his hand and replaced them, praying he wouldn’t see how she suddenly trembled with his nearness. How her skin sizzled and her blood hummed from the contact. “No thanks to you.”
He returned to his chair and picked up his coffee cup. “It was you who pushed me into the pool, not the other way around.”
“I wasn’t talking about the pool. I’m talking about jetlag. I was in Hawaii yesterday, New York the day before. You could have given me more time to get here.”
Hardly the full truth of why she couldn’t sleep, but that was all he was getting out of her.
He shrugged. “It’s business. I don’t have time to wait while you make your way leisurely around the world.”
“No, I imagine stealing works best when done quickly.”
His eyes glittered. “Careful, Rebecca.”
“Or what, you’ll drown me in your pool?” She knew she went too far, but she couldn’t help it. The bitterness from his accusations of last night boiled beneath the surface.
He set the cup down and stood, tossing his napkin onto the table. “We leave for the office in ten minutes. Be in the car if you wish to salvage anything of Layton International.”
“Is that even possible, or do you plan to sell it off piece by piece just to hurt me?”
He grabbed his jacket from the chair. “You’ll have to wait and find out. There is no other option, sí?”
Rebecca set the toast down, no longer hungry. “You really like being the one in control. You’re enjoying this very much, aren’t you?”
Alejandro’s smile sent a chill skimming down her spine. “You have no idea, Señorita Layton.”
6
Ramirez Enterprises was housed in a sleek glass-and-steel building in Madrid’s financial district. The ride took over an hour in the thick traffic congesting the city’s heart. The limo crawled like a beetle, inching forward until an opening appeared, then shooting narrow gaps that had Rebecca cringing each time, expecting the scrape of steel on steel. By the time the car pulled into the drive in front of the building and a doorman appeared, Rebecca was exhausted. Maybe it was part jet lag, but she was convinced it was also the sheer terror of a rush hour car ride through Madrid.
When Alejandro exited the car, Rebecca on his heels, a cadre of men and women with cameras rushed forward. Flashes snapped and Rebecca instinctively pasted on a smile. Growing up with a wealthy father and a social butterfly mother had given her unfailing poise when the media appeared. A necessary skill at one time, though not so much anymore.
Until now.
Alejandro was a famous man in his own country, and she’d been photographed with him often during that heady time when they were an item. Alejandro had always attracted more attention than a pop star. She’d have thought it would have lessened now that he’d been away from bullfighting for so long, but apparently not.
“Señor Ramirez! Señor Ramirez!”
Alejandro stopped, smiling broadly. He said a few words in Spanish, which caused several of the reporters to laugh.
“Can you tell us about the accusations of impropriety with construction permits in Dubai?” a man cut in, his English accented with touches of German. “What is the truth?”
“We are working with the Dubai authorities to get to the bottom of the matter,” Alejandro said smoothly. “I expect to begin construction very soon.”
“You’ve been accused of bribing officials and short circuiting the process. How do you answer that charge?”
His smile never wavered. “I deny it, of course. If you will excuse me, my business awaits. Miss Layton?” he said, turning to where Rebecca stood near the car.
“Rebecca Layton?” someone asked. “Of Layton International?”
Alejandro faced the cameras again. “I have recently acquired Layton International, as you will have heard if you read the business section. Miss Layton is here to ensure the smooth transfer of her former company’s holdings.”
Former company. Rebecca’s smile ached at the corners.
“How do you feel about the takeover, Miss Layton?”
Alejandro’s smile didn’t waver, but he shot her a warning glance.
She met his gaze evenly. Then she lifted her chin. To hell with him.
“I’m not happy about it, naturally. Layton International has been in the luxury hotel business for over a half-century. We had hoped to continue and were pursuing projects guaranteed to bring the Layton brand of luxury to new markets. This takeover is not the outcome we’d hoped for.”
The reporters buzzed. One question rose above the others. “Do you suspect impropriety in the acquisition process?”
Rebecca clasped her hands in front of her. She knew it made her look innocent and somewhat vulnerable. She was no fool, no matter what Alejandro thought. Or how he’d made her feel five years ago.
“That’s not possible, is it? The laws of our nations are very specific in regards to company stock and corporate mergers. Though Señor Ramirez might have wished to act immorally, I’m sure he did not do so.”
The questions rose to a fever pitch. Rebecca strained to hear a single one over the din, but Alejandro appeared at her side, his hand on her elbow.
“That’s all for now,” he said tightly, ushering her toward the sleek glass doors of the building.
She resisted the urge to smile when the doors closed behind them, leaving them in the quiet of a polished lobby. A pretty receptionist greeted them warmly. Alejandro nodded to the young woman and propelled Rebecca toward an elevator. Her shoes clicked across black marble inlaid with shiny gold squares. She briefly wondered if they were real gold, if Alejandro would dare to display his wealth so garishly. A uniformed man greeted them as they passed inside a private elevator, then pressed a button and exited, leaving them alone as the gleaming doors slid closed.