11
Rafael
She looked too perfect snooping through my things, her innocent desperation to get to know me manifesting in ways many men might have taken issue with. But there was nothing for Isa to discover inside the hotel room. I would have no secrets from her as soon as it was possible to tell her the truth of who I was.
I leaned against the doorway of the closet, wondering how long she would remain oblivious to me watching her. She rifled through my clothes, doing a decent job of keeping them tidy enough that I wouldn't have realized what she'd done if I hadn't caught her in the act. "Looking for something,mi princesa?" I asked, watching as her entire body jolted with the strike of terror that shook her.
Her hand went to her chest as she spun to stare at me. She swallowed past the horrified look on her face, no doubt taking in my casual stance and my calm smile as I watched her. Despite my rage of only a few moments ago, there was nothing tight in the lines of my body. Just being around Isa soothed the demons that called to me all hours of the day.
Her face morphed into a shy smile as she stepped closer to me. She touched my stomach cautiously, gliding her hands around to my back as she pressed her body into mine and rested her head on my chest. The move was so innocent, so unexpected, that I didn't react for a moment and had no clue what to do. When she turned her stunning eyes up to me and regret leaked into her expression, I bent forward to kiss her, to reassure the insecurity I saw lingering there.
"I was just trying to find out something about you."
"What do you want to know?" I asked with a shrug, wrapping an arm around her waist and guiding her back into the comfort of the bedroom.
"Anything," she admitted. "You're an enigma. I know we don't really know each other. At all. But it feels like whenever our conversations get too personal, you try to redirect them back to me. If I'm going to spend all this time with you, I'd like to feel like I know you just a little at least. It would make me feel less like..." She paused.
"Less like what, Isa?" I asked, a growl forming in my throat as the words I'd suspected her to say came tumbling out.
"Like a whore. Like I'm sleeping with you to have a luxury vacation. That's not what this is for me at all," she said. The words hung on her tongue unspoken as she stopped herself, not giving me the words I wanted to hear. "I like being with you," she said instead.
I'd take it. For now.
"There are things you can't know about me just yet. My business is—" I paused. "Cut throat. Because of that, I have to be careful who I trust and what I tell people." I wouldn't lie to her outright, but I wouldn't hesitate to keep things from her if I felt it necessary for her safety, and for the development of our relationship to be what it needed to be.
"What is it you do exactly?" she asked with narrowed eyes, making her way out of the bedroom and back into the living space.
"Sales and investments mostly," I said evasively. "I could tell you all the details of my life outside the specifics of my work, but I don't truly believe that's the best way to get to know someone."
I held out a hand for her as I pulled my cell phone from my pocket to make arrangements for her clothes to be delivered to the hotel, and to have a shopper purchase something for her to wear for that day at least. Our future wouldn't wait for the delivery of her luggage.
Not when I had plans for the day.
"Let me show you who I really am."
* * *
The sleek black town car navigated the streets of Ibiza Town as Isa tugged at the white sundress where it touched her thigh, deliberately trying to pull it low enough to cover her scar. I considered the clothes I'd seen her wear in all the photos and surveillance footage I'd seen of her over the years.
Never had I seen her wear anything that revealed her legs. Never had she risked people seeing the scar.
"Eres hermosa,"I murmured, turning to her and resting my hand against the scar itself. “You’re beautiful.” She looked down at the touch, staring at the space where the white scar emerged beside either side of my hand.
"There's nothing beautiful about scars," she said, biting her lip as she looked at it.
"Do you find mine so horrible?" I watched her furrow her brow, but she shook her head and pouted her lips at me.
"I don't like to think of someone hurting you like that, but the scars themselves? No," she admitted, though it looked like it pained her to say it.
"That is exactly how I feel about yours, and since my opinion is the only one that matters, there's no need to fuss over it," I said. She huffed a laugh at me, shaking her head adorably. She probably thought me arrogant, like no other opinion could matter after mine because I would be the best she ever had.
She didn't yet know I would be theonlyman she ever had.
The driver parked alongside the curb in front of the Portal de Ses Taules, and I opened my door. Holding out a hand, I encouraged Isa to scoot herself across the seat and get out on my side. I helped her out, watching as her expression widened and she stared up at the stone wall in front of her. Kissing the back of her hand, I kept it in mine as I tapped the top of the car and closed the door for the driver to retreat until I summoned him.
Normally, I would have driven my McLaren, but finding a parking spot in the area was difficult even for me. Isa would do enough walking that day. I could only be pleased I'd talked her into wearing the flat sandals sent by the shopper instead of her own heeled shoes. She'd appreciate it at the end of the day.
"What is this?" she asked, letting me guide her up the stone ramp to head toward the gate.