CHAPTER TWELVE
SHEWASCONSCIOUSof the sun streaming through her window, she was conscious of Alejandro dressing, but she didn’t move. She lay there, eyes closed, feigning sleep, because she wasn’t ready to face him yet.
They had one more night together. It didn’t feel like enough, even when it was what they’d agreed.
Which was all the more reason for her to get the heck out of there. Since she’d first learned of her father’s will, Sienna had formed a clear plan for her life, and it included a safe, sensible marriage. Definitely not this.
Not sex she craved as though it were an essential part of life, not a heart that was falling head over heels for someone—someone who could hurt her, just as her dad had hurt her mother. She was smarter than that—she’d learned the lessons her mother had refused to heed.
And she was no coward. She blinked her eyes open, sitting up, forcing herself to meet his gaze and smile, even when all her good resolutions felt as though they might evaporate in response to the steam that came off his appraisal.
Belatedly, she realised the sheet was wrapped around her waist and she wore the flimsiest of camisoles, barely covering her breasts. ‘Good morning.’
He finished buttoning his shirt then strode towards her. Sienna’s body lurched; everything felt off kilter.
‘Hi.’ He sat on the edge of the bed, one strong arm over her legs, his face closer to hers. ‘How did you sleep?’
Tortured by dreams of him.
‘Fine.’ She cleared her throat. ‘You?’
His smile showed so much. That he understood what she hadn’t said...that he felt it deep within him as well.
‘Barely.’ He leaned forward, pressing a kiss against her lips, lingering there, so she shifted slightly, pressing her body forward.
His laugh was a soft caress, then he stood, his absence like ice water, dousing her, outraging her. She said nothing.
‘We’ll go out again tonight. I’ll text you details.’
‘It could be more fun to stay in,’ she said with the hint of a pout about her lips.
He simply smiled, dismissively, so frustration bubbled through her. But perhaps it was smarter to go out. Here there was nothing to do but discover one another, to make love and talk and kiss and learn, and she was afraid walking away without a backwards glance would be a lot harder if they kept going down that road.
‘See you later.’
A hint of defiance ran through Sienna as she shopped for something to wear that night. It was their last night together, and though she felt her usual desire to downplay her curves, she ignored it, instead opting to try on dresses that emphasised her figure—a stunning cocktail gown with a low-cut neckline, spaghetti straps and a knee-length skirt clung to her body like a second skin, hiding nothing. She was terrified of that, but she’d also seen the way Alejandro looked at her, she knew that when he looked at her body he didn’t see the pinchable sides of her stomach or the roundedness of her butt—at least, he didn’t see those things in a negative way. She paid for the dress before she could change her mind, then selected some strappy slingbacks. On a whim, she stopped off at a salon near his apartment, getting her hair trimmed and blown out so it hung in loose, voluminous curls around her face.
Excitement built as the day passed, and finally, just after seven, she showered, careful not to dampen her hair, then dressed, nervousness almost making her change out of the revealing outfit and opt for one of her more conservative dresses.
But time was marching on, and she wanted to be waiting for him when he arrived.
Her heart hammered with anticipation and when her phone began to hum, she lifted it up, a smile on her face.
‘I’m downstairs.’
Her breath throbbed. ‘Okay. I’ll see you soon.’
Her heart was racing, her blood firing through her veins, and now she forced herself to do one last check in the mirror. And swore under her breath. Because smiling back at Sienna was a woman who seemed as though she had the world in the palm of her hand. She looked confident and even a little sophisticated. Except for her hands, which trembled as they reached for her clutch bag. She placed it between her side and her arm and stepped into the lift, adrenaline turning her body in a highly charged electrical current.
The lift sailed downwards, and when the doors pinged open it took precisely two seconds for her to locate Alejandro. He was waiting a short distance away, and when their eyes met, time stood still. He stared at her, and she stared right back, a thousand feelings exploding through her, until the lift doors began to close, and she startled, moving her hand between them so they sprang apart once more. But in that split second of inaction, Alejandro was moving, his whole body sliding between the doors and propelling her backwards, dwarfing her and pinning her at the same time, pressing her to the back of the elevator as his mouth sought hers and his hand moved to the panel, pressing buttons without lifting his face from hers.
She whimpered into the kiss, the ache that had been building inside her all day, needing this and him so badly it hurt, both mollified and intensified by the power of his kiss, and without realising what she was doing she lifted one leg, straining the stretchy material of the dress—but she didn’t care. She curved her leg behind him, holding him close, and she kissed him as though her very life depended upon it.
He swore, the kind of curse she loved hearing on his lips because it evoked the sea and salt and flavour of this wild, ancient, primal city; she loved it because it spoke of desperation and need, and a fever coursing through his body the way it was hers. The elevator moved upwards and she pulled away just long enough to say, ‘What happened to dinner?’
His answer was to lift her over his shoulder and stride out of the lift the second the doors opened. Once in his apartment, he placed her down in the middle of the room, sliding her body along his, and though she wanted, more than anything, for him to kiss her again, there was something in the way he looked at her that made her blood spark like lava. He took a step back, one hand still latched to hers, his eyes slipping from her eyes to her lips, lower to the swell of generous cleavage revealed by her dress, to her pinched-in waist and then the curve of her hips, her legs, until she could hardly stand it a second longer.
‘Dinner?’ she prompted with an arched brow.