Page 92 of LA Reign

Still, I feel terrible. He is angry and drunk, yes. But maybe it’s more than that? Maybe he really does regret marrying me? Maybe our honeymoon period is officially over? It certainly feels like it is. Have I been a complete fool to think that I could hold the attention of a man like Alejandro before some other woman catches his eye again? An easier woman, one he doesn’t love or need to protect. Because like he said, love makes us weak. And there are few things my husband hates more than feeling weak.

I shut down his office, distract myself clearing the glass and putting away the whiskey. I’m tempted to pick up where he left off, but having a hangover in the morning won’t help.

I wander back to bed and lie awake in the dark. My stomach churns. All I want is for him to climb into bed beside me and wrap me in his arms. I don’t know why I said that, about being ripped from my old life. My old life was nothing compared to the one I have with him. Despite everything that’s happened, despite his cruel mood, the only place I have ever felt myself is with him. He is my home.

Chapter

Thirty-Eight

ALEJANDRO

Ilie in the dark listening to the sound of my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. I see her face every time I close my eyes.

“Do you regret marrying me?”

No. Not even for a heartbeat. So why didn’t I tell her that? Why did I just sit there and let her believe that?

Because I am a selfish cabrón. Because loving her makes me feel exposed. I worry about her every second of every day. The idea that someone might hurt her because of me makes me feel like I constantly have a knife to my heart, waiting to be twisted.

Perhaps I was cruel to her because I wanted her to have some idea of how that feels, the fear I live with every single day. The pain that even considering losing her causes me. I still have no idea who was behind my father’s attempted murder, and the fact that some madman is out there with a desire to hurt my family terrifies me. Guilt, shame, and anger eat me up day and night. I took it all out on the one person I love more than anything else in the world. Ironically, the one person I am most terrified of losing.

I should have followed her up to our room. I should have pulled off her clothes, pinned her to the bed and buried myself in her. We should have fought, screamed, yelled, and cursed, but then soothed it all away with spectacular sex. That’s the way we always resolve our issues. That is what grounds me, binds us together.

I love her, I want her, and I need her. So why the hell am I lying alone in bed halfway across the city?

Even my cock is weeping for her. I reach down and wrap my fist around my shaft, squeezing tightly for some relief. Wishing it was her hands on me. Wishing that it was her tight, hot pussy squeezing me instead of my own hand.

I close my eyes and picture her lying in bed. Is she thinking about me too? Touching herself in those places that belong to me? I move my hand up and down, stroking my length as I remember how sweet she tastes. How she is always willing to let me do anything I want to her. No matter how hard or rough, or how often I fuck her, she always takes it all. Not just takes it, loves it. My filthy little princesa. My chest burns as I keep pumping my shaft, imagining it was her.

When I finally find my release, I shout her name into the darkness. I’m a goddamn fool. I created that row when there was no need for it. She wanted to help, and I rejected her.

She was right about one thing though. I do need to sleep. I’ve been running on fumes for too long now, and I need to be on top of my game.

Tomorrow, I promise myself, I will go back home. I will make it all right between us.

Chapter

Thirty-Nine

ALANA

Ismile at Lucia as the sonographer rolls the small device over her stomach, showing us images of her unborn child on the screen. My eyes flicker between the fuzzy pictures of the baby and Lucia herself.

“Oh look, Alana,” she says with tears on her cheeks. “He’s perfect.”

I take hold of her hand and squeeze tightly. I’m feeling a little teary myself.

“He certainly is, sweetheart,” I say. “Totally perfect. I can’t wait to meet him.” Seeing her baby on the screen is the perfect antidote to the completely crappy start I had to my day.

Alejandro was true to his word and stayed at his hotel all night. I hardly slept, foolishly hoping that he would come home and slip into bed beside me. When he didn’t, I wondered again if someone else had slipped into his bed—our bed—at the hotel instead.

Sex is his favorite way to unwind and deal with stress. If he isn’t doing it with me, then is he looking elsewhere? I’m being stupid. I know I am. Alejandro is not that man, and it’s my own insecurity speaking as much as anything.

“Would you like some photographs?” the sonographer asks, breaking my train of thought.

“Yes, please. We’ll need three, won’t we?” Lucia replies. “One each for me and Alana, and one for Alejandro.”

I nod at her, those tears spilling over now. Of course she would think of him. “Yes, that would be nice. He’ll appreciate that.”