Page 63 of LA King

Wow. Just when I thought he might not be a complete asshole, he proves me wrong again. “You think I’m bothered that you screwed them? I don’t give a crap who you screwed, you conceited, arrogant, entitled asshole!” I jump off the bed and storm toward the door, but he’s on his feet and blocking my way before I reach it.

“Then what is it?”

I stare into his incredible dark eyes and remember what those women said about me. How I don’t belong with someone like him. The way they made me feel so small and insignificant comes flooding straight back, and like an idiot, I start to cry. Not a delicate, ladylike cry either, but full-force sobs that rack my body.

I’ve never felt so alone in my whole life.

“Alana.” He pulls me into his arms and strokes my hair. “Please tell me what’s wrong, princesa. I can’t stand to see you cry. Did something happen? Did someone hurt you?”

I shrug out of his grip and wipe away my tears. Someone like him could never understand feeling worthless. “No. I’m being silly. Please just let me go home and I’ll be fine.”

“We’re not going anywhere until you tell me what the hell has you so upset.”

What if I tell him and he simply berates me for being so sensitive? Or tells me I’m being ridiculous because I got so upset about what two women I barely know said about me? Or what if he confirms that everything they said is true? I’m not sure I would recover from the latter.

“Alana, please?”

I draw a shaky breath and give him a blow-by-blow account of what I overheard in the restroom, every word of it etched into my brain.

“Me cago en lá puta!” he snarls. “Bitches! Alana, I can’t …” He pinches the spot between his brows.

“They were right, though, weren’t they?”

He blinks at me. “What?”

“I’m not your type, am I? You could have married any woman you wanted. You’re used to dating models and actresses, and I can’t compete with women like that, Alejandro. I don’t want to either. I’m fed up of never feeling good enough. Please just let me go home.” I don’t know exactly which home I’m referring to—New York or Bel Air.

“Alana.” He pulls me into his arms and crushes me to his chest. “You don’t have to compete with anyone. There is no competition, princesa. Not between you and them. None at all. You are my wife. You are the only woman I have ever married.”

“You make that sound like I’m someone special, but our marriage is nothing more than a business arrangement,” I remind him.

His warm breath ruffles my hair. “Maybe that was why I married you, but it’s not why …” He sucks in a breath. “Do you know I have never been faithful to another woman in my life? I never wanted to. Not until you. You …” His voice goes thick with emotion. “Eres todo para mí.”

I want to ask what that means, but he’s already pinning me to the wall. “Don’t you ever let anyone make you feel anything less than what you are, Alana. You are an incredible woman. You are beautiful and brilliant. You have the biggest heart⁠—”

“And the biggest ass,” I interrupt him, still feeling fragile and vulnerable. Him being sweet and tender is not helping me get ahold of my emotions at all.

He slides his hands around to my ass and squeezes. “This is the most beautiful ass I have ever seen in my life. It’s the perfect size. It’s simply fucking perfect.”

I smile at him, blinking away a tear. “I always kind of liked it myself before today too.”

“Those bitches never made me come even half as hard as you do.”

I can’t help but laugh as I press my forehead against his chest.

“I hate that they made you feel so worthless, because you are worth one hundred of them. I dated those women because they were there. They could have been anyone. They meant nothing to me then, and they mean even less to me now. You are the only woman in my life, and you are the only woman I want in my life.”

I feel like he means it. This thing between us might have started as a business arrangement, but we have come to need each other too. He cares about me. He no longer stays at the hotel anymore. Every night, he comes home to me. He makes me feel desired and can do things to my body that I never dreamed possible. And that can be enough.

“Will you stay here with me?” he says against my neck.

I would stay anywhere with him. “Yes.”

He skims his hands up the outside of my thighs, pulling my dress up to my waist along the way. “I’ve been desperate to get you out of this dress ever since I saw you in it at the house.”

He hooks the fabric of my panties to one side before sliding two of his fingers through my wet center. “Did Hugo see these panties today?”

“Of course not.”