A Deal with Alejandro Page 11

  Half an hour later, her fingers were still poised over a blank sheet. A thread of fear feathered her nape. Had she lost her muse for ever?

  Elise forced herself to breathe. Eyes shut, she traced the pencil over the blank sheet. She knew the subject of her sketch the moment her fingers began to move.

  Almost trancelike, she sketched Alejandro’s profile. Proud and regal, the image of him staring out of his office window at the view of Lake Michigan felt so real, her fingers trembled as she traced the fine lines, lingering with almost sinful delight over the curve of his lips. He was out of bounds to her for many reasons. But there was no reason she couldn’t have this.

  Except this was a dangerous pastime, one she couldn’t afford to indulge in unless she wanted to invite a whole new set of problems for herself. She finished Alejandro’s sketch and returned to her manga story. The first image appeared within minutes.

  Relief punched through her as the next image unfolded, followed by another.

  Elise worked until her muscles grew stiff and her eyes began to droop. Setting aside the papers and easel with a deep sense of awe and accomplishment, she released the clip from her hair, and slid down into the comfortable bed. The ironic thought that the man she was so desperate to keep her guard up around was the same one who’d turned out to be her creative muse was the last she had as the hum of the plane lulled her into a floating sleep.

  Only to be awaked by a wildly jarring movement.

  Blinking, she sat up. The shades on the windows had been pulled halfway down, and a soft lamp turned low, leaving the room in a golden glow.

  In the chaise, Alejandro sat nursing a cognac.

  ‘Uh...hi,’ she murmured.

  Intense eyes drifted to her as he took a sip. ‘I left the light on so you wouldn’t think I’m sitting here in the dark watching you sleep like some sort of creep,’ he drawled.

  His presence was inducing a myriad of feelings, but creepiness wasn’t one of them.

  She licked her lower lip and surreptitiously smoothed her hair. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

  ‘Five hours. I imagine you would’ve slept for longer had we not flown into turbulence. The pilot tells me it’ll go on for a while. I thought you might appreciate a friendly face in case you’re a timid flyer,’ he mocked gently.

  Her gaze darted to the windows, although there wasn’t much to see. She shrugged. ‘I’m the no-point-in-panicking-until-there’s-something-to-really-panic-about type of flyer.’

  He smiled into his drink. ‘How fatalistic of you.’ Rising, he crossed to the bar and poured a mineral water. Elise tried to avert her gaze as he headed for her, but her eyes refused to cooperate. Breathless once more, she watched him advance with a lithe, powerful prowl.

  As he held out the water the plane bounced again, spilling it onto her outstretched hand. Alejandro placed the glass on the bedside table, grabbed a tissue and dabbed drops from her hand, his eyes on her face the whole time.

  ‘Not as many shadows. I trust you slept better than you did last night?’

  The deep timbre of his voice vibrated through her. ‘Yes. Thanks for offering me your bed.’

  Nice, Elise. Fighting not to cringe or blush, she started to reach for the water.

  The plane bounced again.

  Glancing at the distance between the top of Alejandro’s head and the low ceiling, she smirked. ‘Maybe you should sit down before your head makes a hole in the ceiling and you doom us all?’

  His mouth twitched as he perched at the foot of the bed. ‘You seem in a better mood, too.’ His gaze flicked to the zipped-up portfolio case that held her drawings. ‘Does this have something to do with it?’

  She tensed slightly, unable to stem the ingrained wariness about her art. When his eyes reflected nothing but genuine interest, she nodded. ‘It hasn’t for a while but it helped today, yes.’

  He nodded, his gaze resting speculatively on the case. When it flicked back to her, her heart tripped.

  ‘Are you going to make me beg to see them, Elise?’ he murmured.

  Her fingers toyed with a corner of the sheet, her nerves jumping in time to the turbulence. ‘I don’t know...maybe?’

  Eyes gleaming with intent traced her face before reconnecting with hers. ‘Por favor. I would be honoured to see your art.’

  She grimaced. ‘Damn. You don’t play fair.’

  A ghost of a smile curved his mouth. ‘No. I don’t.’

  She reached for the case to extract her sketchbook, an absurd part of her acknowledging she would be totally crushed if he didn’t like it. Calling herself all kinds of a fool, she held it out to him.

  Alejandro opened it. Surprise flickered in his eyes, then both eyebrows gradually spiked with each page he perused. Finally, when she didn’t think she would be able to stand the tension, he raised his head. ‘Que están más allá de magnífica,’ he rasped.

  ‘Translation, please,’ she whispered.

  ‘Magnificent.’

  Pleasure shot through her, her smile powered by a thousand bulbs of happiness. ‘Thank you.’

  He stared at her for a beat before returning his attention to the pages. ‘This is what you intend to do when you’re done with Jameson?’

  ‘It’s what I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but...’

  ‘But?’

  ‘I was afraid I’d lost...something. My work has felt stilted for a long time now.’

  He regarded her steadily. ‘You had other things on your mind.’

  Slowly she nodded. ‘Yes.’

  Deft fingers leafed through the pages with escalating speed. ‘And your parents have a problem with this?’

  Her fist knotted on the sheet. ‘My parents have a problem with most things I do. Or more accurately, what I don’t—’ She bit her tongue to stop words she didn’t want to spill.

  His head lifted from the pages, green eyes narrowed. ‘What do they want?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’d prefer not to—’

  ‘Your talent is undeniable. So tell me why they’d choose not to support you,’ he pressed.

  ‘Do your parents support you in everything you do?’

  His face froze, a darkly forbidding look blanketing his features. ‘We’re not talking about me.’

  ‘Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.’

  For a long minute, she thought he wouldn’t respond. ‘I haven’t sought my parents’ approval and they haven’t been in a position to give it because I haven’t spoken to them in almost fifteen years,’ he clipped out. ‘Now you.’

  Elise closed the mouth that had dropped open and tried to stem the rising dread. ‘I don’t like talking about them.’

  His jaw tensed for a second. ‘Because I erroneously likened you to them?’

  The plane jarred her stomach into free fall for a second but her gaze didn’t leave his face. ‘Maybe. You have me as your captive audience at thirty-four thousand feet. Tell me what you’d have said differently.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have thrown your parents’ reputation in your face, for a start. I, more than anyone, should know that genetically we’re formed from their blueprints, but we’re not the sum total of our parents’ beliefs and actions.’

  A sudden lump in her throat made it hard to breathe or speak. She tried anyway. ‘I... Thanks.’ She swallowed. Then realised he was waiting for more. ‘They think I’m not making the most of my...assets.’

  He tensed. ‘Your assets,’ he breathed.

  ‘You want to know why I smile at everyone I meet?’

  His eyes gleamed dangerously. ‘Not particularly, but go on.’

  ‘Because at seventeen, my mother told me that not smiling would make me more mysterious and attractive to men. That I would have them falling at my feet if I maintained a certain...aloofness. I’ve been getting advice like that since I hit puberty. After what happened with Brian, I wondered for a while if they’d been right.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘I even wondered whether I’d invited the assault.’

 
He captured her nape so fast, her breath stalled. ‘You did not,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘That was all him. Never think otherwise.’

  She nodded jerkily, her chest tightening with the intensity of him.

  After a moment, he relaxed and released her. Lounging back on the bed, he regarded her. ‘So you decided to smile because you didn’t wish to have men falling at your feet?’

  She grimaced. ‘That sounds ludicrous, I know. They can fall all they want. I’d just prefer they wait two seconds and engage my intellect before they decide I’m worth falling for. Besides, all those potentially falling bodies to navigate? If I wanted that, I’d have trained as a stuntwoman.’

  His low laugh dispelled the knot in her midriff, and promptly replaced it with a glow. ‘That would be a sight to behold.’

  She smiled. ‘Thankfully, you’ll never have to see it. I’m not built for that profession, either.’

  His gaze lingered for a heartbeat, before raking down her body. ‘At the risk of being called a chauvinist, I won’t divulge my thoughts on what you’re built for.’

  She pressed her lips together to stop herself from demanding he tell her. Because the heat swirling in his eyes wasn’t dangerous enough!

  But he looked down. Started to turn the page.

  ‘Wait!’ Elise lunged forward.

  His breath audibly caught.

  The plane lurched, throwing her into an awkward sprawl next to him. He caught and steadied her with one hand, his other holding the page open. The page that held his image. Silence, thick and heavy, hung in the room.

  Elise tried to move. He held her still, his gaze rising to hers.

  ‘This is how you see me?’ he rasped after an interminable age. His voice was completely devoid of emotion, depriving her of any insight as to how he felt about the drawing.

  She swallowed hard. ‘I... Yes.’

  Unreadable eyes dropped to the image again, prompting hers to follow. ‘I look...’

  ‘Angry. Sad. Lonely. Invincible.’

  ‘Dios. Why did you draw it?’ he demanded roughly.

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Yes, you do. Why?’ he pressed.

  ‘I couldn’t concentrate...because you were on my mind?’

  ‘Is that a question? Either I was or I wasn’t.’

  She was aware she was skirting that edge of danger she’d craved mere minutes ago. Her blood thrummed wildly in her ears. ‘You were. Very much.’

  He roughly shoved the case aside and pulled her fully into his body.

  His fingers speared into her hair, his grip firm as he leaned down and stared, narrow-eyed, at her.

  ‘You know why I’m angry.’

  ‘The deal. Your brother. Yes.’

  His nostrils flared. ‘I’m not sad.’

  ‘Maybe not right this minute.’

  He made a rough sound of disagreement. ‘I’m not lonely,’ he rasped.

  Her heart lurched, because the evidence to the contrary was right there in his voice. ‘Okay.’

  ‘My invincibility would be debated by some.’

  ‘But only if they’re blind?’

  He shrugged. His head dropped another fraction. ‘This picture... You see too much, Elise. I don’t like it.’

  ‘You see me, too, when you want to, but you don’t see me throwing a tantrum about it.’

  His eyes darkened. The fingers in her hair shifted, caressed. ‘Madre de Dios.’

  Desire dripped into her veins, commencing a slow languor that held her captive and yearning.

  She needed to pull back, retreat to her side of the bed. Or better still, out of the room completely. ‘Alejandro...’

  ‘Shut up. I’ve had quite enough words from you for now.’

  His mouth slanted over hers, mastered her, showed her the depth of feeling moving through him. She didn’t need words to know her drawing had affected him. The way he kissed, with hunger and a little anger, need and a touch of gentleness, told its own story.

  Drugging enough to make her momentarily excuse herself from what shouldn’t be happening; she explored him with the same hunger. Beneath her fingers, his warm muscles shifted, the hair at his nape curled into her touch, his whole body shuddering when her nails dug in.

  ‘Elise.’

  He lifted his head for a moment and she glimpsed the powerful hunger stamped on his face. It was enough to remind her that she was playing with fire. That she was stoking an inferno she might not be able to survive if it flamed much higher.

  Before she could attempt to push him away, he was kissing her again, bearing her back so she was flat on the bed.

  One hand traced her jaw, then stroked down to linger at the pulse beating at her throat. When he was satisfied she was sufficiently fired up, he trailed lower, and cupped one breast.

  Elise moaned at the expert kneading, the clever teasing of her nipple. Liquid sensation sparked through her, singeing her between the legs until she was twisting beneath him. He uttered something guttural in Spanish, intensely erotic.

  The plane lurched, separating them for a second.

  They stared at each other. Awareness slowly crawled back. They’d been here before.

  And yet here she was, thousands of feet in the air, on the edge of being initiated into an exclusive club with a man who would sign her paycheque when her business with him was over and walk away without a backward glance.

  He started to lower his head.

  She pulled away. ‘No.’

  He exhaled harshly. ‘We’ve been here before. I misjudged you then. I’m not doing it now.’

  She forced her hands to drop from his shoulders. ‘Thank you, but nothing has changed. I can’t do this.’ Her lips were stiff, as if they didn’t want to speak the words.

  A frown formed. ‘I’ve spent more than two seconds with you. I’ve engaged your intelligence.’

  ‘So now you’re ready to fall at my feet?’ she parried.

  His features slid into neutral. ‘I don’t fall, Elise. Ever.’

  Something jarred hard and cold inside her. ‘And I don’t sleep with people I work with.’

  ‘Who do you sleep with?’ he queried tersely.

  ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t. Ever.’

  One mocking eyebrow lifted. ‘You expect me to believe you’re a virgin?’

  Heat stormed up her face in evidence before she could utter a word. Something akin to shock paled his face.

  ‘Elise—’

  ‘I’m not having this conversation with you. Believe what you will, but do it while you’re not lying on top of me.’

  He released her immediately, his movements jerky as he retreated.

  She averted her gaze from him, slid off the bed, stood, and attempted to straighten her embarrassingly wrinkled clothes.

  They both startled when the intercom buzzed and the pilot announced they would be free of the turbulence in a few minutes.

  Elise almost snorted. The turbulence in her life had taken the form of a powerful and enigmatic man whose compulsive power drew her inexorably in as every instinct screamed for her to run in the other direction. She might have succeeded in stopping her emotions from unravelling completely a few moments ago, but Elise feared she wouldn’t be as strong should any further turmoil be hurled her way.

  Until she could finish her job and walk away, her only option was to distance herself as much as possible from Alejandro.

  CHAPTER NINE

  OF COURSE THAT was easier said than done.

  From the moment they landed, she found herself in the very close and personal position of being Alejandro’s interpreter.

  In between a whirlwind tour of Kyoto with her, he shamelessly courted Ishikawa Corporation’s rivals.

  He accepted a meeting with the Ishikawa brothers two days after landing, which he then cancelled at the last minute with profuse apologies.

  ‘You’re taunting them,’ Elise observed as they stood beneath one of hundreds of red arches that lined the path
way to Fushimi Inari-taisha Shrine. They’d paused halfway on the two-hour trek to the top, and, beneath them, Kyoto glistened resplendently in the evening light.

  Elise breathed in deep, her heart lifting with a serenity she hadn’t felt for a long time.

  Each morning since their arrival three days ago, Alejandro had instructed her to pick a place to visit. Their first visit had been to the Kiyomizu-dera temple close to where her grandmother lived. Her grandmother might have been absent but she’d arranged a private visit of the holy temple renowned for bestowing good fortune and love. As they’d strolled through the hallowed room, Elise had told herself the latter hadn’t been why she’d chosen the temple as her first port of call. Her heart had twanged with disbelief, but she’d shoved the feeling aside. Alejandro had strolled beside her with ease, pointing out scrolls he needed translating, then looking at her with blatant heat as she read them out to him in Japanese, then translated.

  In those moments, she’d asked herself whether she was taking her reticence a little too far. Whether she wasn’t risking throwing away a spell of ecstasy for a lifetime of the unknown.

  She glanced at him now as he traced his fingers down the scrolls on the arch. He turned, and one of the incisive gazes he’d taken to levelling on her since their turbulent and very eye-opening conversation on the plane bore into her.

  She’d told herself she preferred things this way—looks without touching or any hint of the emotional and physical intimacy they’d shared on the plane. But slowly those feelings were changing.

  ‘Giving them a taste of their own medicine,’ Alejandro responded to her question.

  She walked from one scroll to the next, her breath catching when he followed. ‘You know your brother’s here in Kyoto. What if they decide to go with him?’

  He shrugged. ‘Then I would’ve lost.’

  Elise frowned. ‘After all the effort you put in?’

  A distant look entered his eyes. ‘This is a battle I never wished to be drawn into in the first place. Winning at all costs may appear romantic on the big screen, but I’ve never been a fan of pyrrhic victories.’