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They know it and won’t go against him.
“Come.” One word; his tone is rich and velvety—the deep baritone gliding across my skin as goose bumps rise. As my nipples tighten. Alejandro extends a hand inside the car, the same one with the tattoos, and I’m taken in by them.
I don’t let him take me out of the vehicle. I can’t move. Instead, I’m taken in by the mixture of words and vines that wrap around his forearm, gliding my fingertips over each one.
A door opens and closes in the background.
His breathing becomes heavy.
“These are not what I expected.” It’s the first thing I say, recognizing each line from a famous speech given by an ex-President of the republic. One, my family hates because the man single-handedly revoked my grandfather’s past declarations of law. Because he fought to end a constitutional amendment that let the president-elect serve more than one term if he chose to.
He was also responsible for the release of Alejandro’s father from prison and dropping all charges.
Fight for tomorrow and never take a step back.
“Not all things are as they seem.”
“I’ve heard that line before,” I whisper, letting him pull me from the car a few seconds later. His hand never leaves mine. His grip is tight yet comforting as we walk up two steps that lead into an empty lobby. Not a single person can be found—employee or resident—and the elevator doors are open wide as we slip inside.
“Press the up button, Preciosa.”
“Okay.” There’s a small shiver that rushes through me at his tone; a palpable hunger causes my core to clench as I follow his command. I shouldn’t like the way his nickname makes me feel, nor should I allow him to pull me into his lavish penthouse once we reach the top floor of this building, but I do.
My eyes take in every square inch of his place, cataloging the expensive paintings and opulent furniture—the solid gold fixtures and imported rugs. It’s magazine beautiful and reminds me a lot of where I live now: cold and impersonal. Lacks the same feeling of warmth that’s been lacking in mine for as long as I can remember.
And the further we walk inside, the more I begin to feel uncomfortable. Afraid to move the wrong way and break something valuable. From the foyer to the formal living room, I walk with a stiffness that makes me force a smile and then take my very first relaxed breath once we step out onto the attached balcony. I’m thankful for the reprieve. The chance to stand outside and watch the city below us as people walk by the building and cars zoom past—life carrying on while we simply stand side by side.
“You don’t like it.” Alejandro’s statement a few minutes later catches me off guard, and I turn my eyes to him, finding the caramel-colored orbs studying me intently. The furrow of his brows makes him look menacing yet adorable to me. I’m certifiable.
“You have a gorgeous home, Mr. Lucas,” is what I say instead, like I’ve been groomed to do so from an early age, and he chuckles. Low and throaty. Deep and delicious. “Is there something amusing in what I just said? Did I forget to compliment something specific?”
Alejandro is unfazed by my narrowed eyes and snark, shaking his head with a smirk on his lips. “Not in the least, Solimar. I find you to be many things, but hilarious isn’t one of them.”
Turning with my back to the veranda, I lean back and let out a heavy breath.“Why am I here?”
“Because I want you to be.”
“Can you please elaborate?”
“My words should suffice, Preciosa.”
“That explains nothing, Mr. Lucas.” They leave me with more questions than answers and I sigh, turning my face from him. There’s a woman in his home, a bit older and heavier set, and she’s carrying what looks to be iced tea and some pastries on a tray. She sets them down and leaves, her eyes meeting mine once before she scurries away.
I don’t know why the simple act makes me wonder how many women he’s brought to this penthouse. How many have fallen to their knees or spread their legs? It bothers me. It makes me feel insignificant in a way that brings forth hurtful reproaches.
Maybe I’m just a game to him. A pawn. A way to get back at my father, and like a complete and utter fool I—
“Stop that.”
“I think it’s best I…” two fingers grip my chin and turn my face “…leave.”
“Never take your eyes from me.” Alejandro pulls me closer with the firm hold, dipping his face just enough that his mouth hovers over mine. “I don’t like it when you do.”
My cheeks warm under his intense stare. “And why is that? Tell me why I’m here.”
“Will that make you happy?” he asks, licking his lips as mine part. I can almost taste him as I follow the movement. His scent: leather and spice infiltrating my senses, and I swallow back a moan. “Make you less afraid?”
“I’m not—”
