‘You intend to change before we eat?’
She cast him a studied glance. ‘This gown cost a small fortune.’
‘So did my suit,’ drawled Alejandro.
‘Perhaps you should exchange it for something less formal.’
‘And save on the dry-cleaning bill?’
‘Naturally.’
‘I gather eating in bed would be considered the height of decadence?’
She failed miserably in suppressing an impish smile. ‘It would be such a shame to waste the food.’
‘The terrace?’
Her eyes twinkled with devilish humour. ‘Think of the moonlight.’
He shrugged out of his jacket and placed it over a nearby chair. ‘Plates, cutlery, glasses?’
She pretended due consideration. ‘I guess we could opt for informality,’ she decided as she picked up her shoes and made for the staircase. ‘Two forks, two glasses.’ She began mounting the stairs, then paused to look down at him. ‘Do you think you can manage that?’
He removed the bow tie and loosened the top buttons on his shirt. ‘Don’t be too long, querida,’ he warned gently, and her mouth curved into a guileless smile.
‘Patience, Alejandro.’ She turned and slowly traversed the remaining stairs. In the bedroom she slipped out of the gown, then dressed in silk culottes and a loose top.
Minutes later she walked out on to the terrace to find Alejandro seated at one of the outdoor tables, a portable lamp providing essential light, the food displayed in its various containers, and a slim flute of wine within easy reach. His shirt was undone almost to the waist, the cuffs rolled halfway up his forearms.
Elise sank into a chair opposite, dipped a fork into chop suey, and savoured a mouthful with suitable enthusiasm, then repeated the process. ‘Isn’t this better than eating in a restaurant?’
He forked a prawn into his mouth, then shot her a musing look. ‘This is quite good.’
‘Don’t sound so surprised.’ She met his gaze and wrinkled her nose at him in admonition. ‘The trouble is you’ve been thoroughly spoilt, with a personal cook and professional chefs to pander to your gourmand taste.’
‘Planning to re-educate me, Elise?’
‘In some areas it mightn’t be a bad idea.’
‘And what areas are those, my darling wife?’ He sounded distinctly amused, and dangerously indolent.
‘You could do with a lesson in humility,’ she said with mock severity.
‘Where you are concerned, I am remarkably humble,’ Alejandro claimed solemnly. His eyes held hers, and she couldn’t look away as he lifted his glass in a silent salute before placing the rim to his mouth.
He sounded sincere. Almost as if he cared very much. The breath caught in her throat, and she found it difficult to swallow.
Her fork was suspended in mid-air, and she slowly replaced it on the table, her appetite gone.
He leaned back in the chair, his large frame displaying an indolent grace that was deceptive, for there was a watchfulness apparent, a leashed air she found infinitely disturbing. ‘Lost for words, Elise?’
She looked at him for what seemed an age, wanting more than anything to move into his arms, to lift her mouth for his kiss. But she seemed locked into immobility, and there was a strange ache in the region of her heart.
There was so much she wanted to say, yet she felt hesitant, afraid that if she revealed too much it would render her vulnerable.
‘Shall I make coffee?’ Even her voice sounded breathy and uncertain, and she cursed her own insecurity.
‘No coffee,’ Alejandro said gently. ‘I’ll dispose of these containers, then we’ll go to bed.’
Bed. That was her downfall. It was where she sold her soul and lost control.
‘I’m not tired,’ she offered quietly, and glimpsed his faint smile.
‘Neither am I. Sleeping wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.’
She rose to her feet and gathered up the cutlery and glasses, then carried them through to the kitchen.
Alejandro followed, and she heard him locking the outer doors and setting the security alarm.
It was a simple task to load the dishwasher, and she had just finished when he entered the room.
He looked vaguely piratical: dark trousers, deep olive skin, dark hair, in stark contrast to the white shirt. And tall. He almost seemed overpowering, and, while she craved his touch, there was a part of her that cried out against any sexual subjugation.
She watched as he despatched food down the waste-disposal unit, then dropped empty containers into the pedal-bin before washing and drying his hands.
In silence he turned and caught hold of her hand, leading her through to the lounge, where he selected a compact disc and slid it into the disc player.
Soft music emanated from the speakers and Elise looked at him speechlessly as he drew her into his arms.
Crazy, she thought, as he pulled her close against him and began to drift slowly round the room. She felt his lips brush her hair, followed by the warmth of his breath against her temple. His heartbeat was strong beneath her cheek, and her hands crept to link together at the back of his waist.
The music was so slow and dreamy that after several minutes they hardly bothered to move at all, and simply stood still in the dim light reflected from the foyer.
His kiss was so incredibly gentle that it almost made her cry, and she offered him her mouth, exulting in an erotic tasting that excited without demand.
When the music finished he raised his head and subjected her to a long, searching gaze, then he placed an arm beneath her knees and carried her up the stairs.
Elise wanted to cry, and when he lowered her to her feet in the bedroom, tears shimmered like crystal droplets in each corner of her eyes.
Without a word he led her to the bed and sat down on its edge, then he drew her to stand between his thighs.
Her mouth began to tremble, and there was nothing she could do to prevent the slow downward path of a single tear as it overflowed.
Alejandro lifted a hand and halted its passage with the pad of his thumb before moving to trace the outline of her mouth.
‘I was almost hesitant to question the cause,’ he drawled gently. ‘Do you want to blame it on ambivalent emotions?’
‘I guess that’s as good a reason as any,’ she owned shakily, and almost died at the wealth of passion evident in those dark eyes so close to her own.
