but apparently not.
“Señor Ramirez,” the reporters called in unison. “Señor Ramirez.”
Alejandro stopped, smiling broadly. He said a few words in Spanish, which caused several of the reporters to laugh.
“Can you tell us about the accusations of impropriety with construction permits in Dubai?” a man said in German-accented English.
“We are working with the Dubai authorities to get to the bottom of the matter,” Alejandro said smoothly. “I expect to begin construction very soon.”
“You’ve been accused of bribing officials and short-circuiting the process. How do you answer that charge?”
His smile never wavered. “I deny it, of course. If you will excuse me, my business awaits. Miss Layton?” he said, turning to where she stood near the car.
“Rebecca Layton?” someone said. “Of Layton International?”
Alejandro faced the cameras again. “I have recently acquired Layton International, as you will have seen if you read the business section. Miss Layton is here to ensure the smooth transfer of her former company’s holdings.”
Former company. Rebecca’s smile ached at the corners.
“How do you feel about the takeover, Miss Layton?”
Alejandro’s smile didn’t waver, but he shot her a warning glance. To hell with him.
Rebecca stepped forward. “I’m not happy about it, you may be assured. Layton International has been in the luxury hotel business for over a half century. We had hoped to continue, and were pursuing projects guaranteed to bring the Layton brand of luxury to new markets. This takeover is not the outcome we’d hoped for.”
The reporters buzzed. One question rose above the others. “Do you suspect any impropriety in the acquisition process?”
Rebecca clasped her hands together in front of her. She knew it made her look innocent and somewhat vulnerable. “No—that’s not possible, is it? The laws of our nations are very specific in regards to company stock and corporate mergers. Though Señor Ramirez might have wished to act immorally, I’m sure he did not do so.”
The questions rose to a fever-pitch. Rebecca strained to hear a single one over the din, but Alejandro appeared at her side, his hand on her elbow.
“That’s all for now,” he said, ushering her toward the sleek glass doors of the building.
She resisted the urge to smile when the doors closed behind them, leaving them in the quiet of a polished lobby. A pretty receptionist greeted them warmly. Alejandro nodded his head to the young woman and propelled Rebecca toward an elevator. Her shoes clicked across black marble inlaid with shiny gold squares. She briefly wondered if they were real gold—if Alejandro would dare to display his wealth so garishly. A uniformed man greeted them as they passed inside a private elevator, then pressed a button and exited, leaving them alone as the gleaming doors slid closed.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Rebecca leaned back against the brass rail and tried not to look like the cat that ate the canary. “What do you mean? I told them you did everything legally.” Legally, but not morally. She had no doubt he’d understood what she’d said out there.
His gray eyes flashed. “You know very well you are jeopardizing our stock value with comments such as those.”
“I’m sure you’ll recover from the dip.”
“Yes, but will I need to shed a few assets to keep earnings on projection?”
Her heart thumped at the threat, but she remained coolly unaffected on the outside. “Did you pay bribes in Dubai?”
“Do you think I would admit it to you if I had?”
She spoke before she could talk herself out of it. “You’ve grown fast over the years. I’ve wondered how you did it, but perhaps the secret to your success has little to do with business acumen and everything to do with your willingness to play dirty.”
His gaze sharpened. “You’d like to think so, no doubt. But I assure you everything I’ve gained has been earned through hard work. Unlike yourself, no?”
His reaction was not as harsh as she’d expected, but it sliced deep. It was a charge that stung, but not one she could deny. At least not in any way he would understand. She’d had to work hard to prove herself to her father, to prove that a daughter would be every bit as good as a son when it came to captaining the family business. Harder than anyone would ever know.
She would not, however, share those struggles with Alejandro—or indeed with anyone. The memories of what she’d endured were too painful.
His look was telling. “How it must anger you to know your fate is in my hands. Perhaps you should be nicer to me? Encourage me to be gracious? How is it you say in America? That you must use honey to get the flies, not vinegar?”
She stiffened. “Don’t you dare insult me by pretending I have a chance. You’ve already made up your mind, so why not just tell me what you want and be done with it? It’s clear you have a plan, regardless of what I say or do. Save us both the hassle.”
His gray gaze bored into hers. “What makes you think this is a—what was the word?—hassle for me?”
She speared her hair away from her face, having left the clip on the breakfast table. “I mean that since you already know what you want from me, let’s just get right to it and skip this other stuff.”
She sounded brave, though she was anything but. He could fire her here and now, put her on a plane and send her back to New York with nothing more than a bad case of jet lag and a rapidly dwindling bank account. She probably shouldn’t have baited him with her statement to the reporters, but she was tired of being at his mercy. She wanted this nightmare over, wanted her company back and her life free of this man.
“Get right to it?” he said softly. “Skip the foreplay? Sometimes this is a good idea.”
Rebecca’s breath caught at the sensual undertone of his voice. Was she imagining the heat in his gaze? The elevator seemed suddenly too small to contain the two of them.
“But not always,” he said, his voice caressing the words. “You may plead your case in front of my board.”
“They will vote as you want. What’s the point?” she said, her voice far huskier than she would have liked.
“Maybe.” He reached into his jacket and pulled out his PDA, frowning at the screen. The sexual tension emanating from him died as if he’d flipped a switch. He clicked the wheel, scrolling through the information there, shutting her out.
Rebecca gripped the railing, stunned both at the immediacy of her reaction and at his ability to turn off his own response. Because he had wanted her. She’d seen it. Hadn’t she? Or was this simply another part of his game?
Unbidden, images of him flashed into her head. The jagged scar of a bull’s horn slicing across his rib cage, the taut ripple and glide of muscle when he moved, the impressive jut of
