Alejandro Cabrera. The father of her child.
CHAPTER THREE
THECALANDRASMYTHEstanding before him was not the one he’d seen disappearing into the sea of New York traffic. That Calandra had been vulnerable, desire lingering in the uncertain gaze she’d shot him before running away. This Calandra was the one he remembered from her years at Cabrera Wines: dark, impervious, ice-cold as she stared at him with silver eyes so sharp they could cut a man to ribbons with a mere glance.
But he knew better now. He knew that beneath the ice ran a current of hot passion that had kept him awake for weeks after their tryst. Just the memory of making love to her, of her nails raking down his back as he’d slid in and out of her wet heat, sent raw hunger pulsing through him for the first time in four months.
Obsessiveness spread through his veins and rooted him to the spot. Even as he nodded to Adrian and kissed Everleigh on the cheek, he soaked in every detail of Calandra’s appearance. The dark hair wrapped into a bun at the nape of her neck. The dash of deep burgundy on her lips. The swish of black satin that clung to her torso and flared out just below her breasts into a soft, loose skirt that fell in ripples to her ankles. A surprisingly whimsical style on her. He never would have thought her the romantic type.
Just a month ago, he’d typed her name into Google, his finger hovering over the Enter key. He didn’t know how long he’d sat there, contemplating what he would do if he actually found her, called her. Really, what was there to say? They’d had a one-night stand and, less than three weeks later, she’d quit his brother’s company without notice and disappeared.
A sting to his pride. Nothing more. He’d never had a woman flee as if the devil were on her heels. Calandra’s sudden departure and ensuing silence had been a novelty. That was the only reason he’d thought about her since.
At least that’s what he’d told himself.
In the last few weeks, he’d barely thought of her at all. Javier’s interferences had monopolized his thoughts day and night.
With the slightest shake of his head, he slipped into his playboy persona and flashed a smile in her direction.
“I’m surprised to see you here. And dressed in almost not black. What’s the occasion?”
Everleigh sucked in a breath.
“Don’t worry,” Adrian said wryly. “They bicker like brother and sister.”
Oh, no.Bickering like two people who couldn’t stand that they were so attracted to each other, yes.
Most definitely not like brother and sister.
Unlike their previous encounters, though, Calandra did not take the bait. Her eyes darted to the side as she bit down on her lower lip. Her hand drifted to her stomach before she clenched her fingers into a fist.
Initially she’d seemed calm and collected. But now she seemed...nervous.
His eyes narrowed. He’d seen Calandra nervous exactly one time, and one time only—right after she’d kissed him senseless in an elevator in New York City.
Something was wrong.
She shot a stiff smile at Everleigh. “It’s okay. I’ve gotten used to his teasing. It brings back memories of high school, actually. Same levels of maturity, too.”
A grin tugged at his lips. Yes, the sex had been amazing, but even before they’d seen each other naked, he’d thoroughly enjoyed their verbal sparring. Calandra was the one woman who hadn’t been afraid to stand up to him, to call him out or flat-out roll her eyes.
She was the only woman he’d ever felt truly comfortable around.
She turned those gray eyes on him, and his chest tightened. Yes, something was definitely wrong. Calandra kept herself aloof, always in control of any situation. He’d watched her navigate everything from drunk guests to a caterer who’d shown up thirty minutes before dinner was supposed to be served. She never batted an eye at the myriad things that had gone wrong in the years that she’d worked for Cabrera Wines. She’d simply adapted and overcome.
So what problem had caused this unrest in her, this nervous energy that practically sizzled across her alabaster skin? Adrian and Everleigh appeared unfazed. Could no one see the unease in her eyes, in the slight drumming of her fingers on the balcony railing?
“Alejandro, I need to speak with you.”
Adrian’s head whipped around, his eyes narrowing. Before Alejandro could open his mouth and come up with some witty retort, Everleigh, God bless her sweet soul, wound her arm through her fiancé’s and tugged him toward the stairs.
“I think the fireworks are about to start, my love.”
“But—”
“Off we go.”
And just like that, they were alone. The seconds stretched out, each one longer than the last, as Calandra’s gaze darted from the crowd gathered on the lawn to the marble staircase to the darkening Parisian sky.