a shame,’ Mr Santos said. ‘You two make an attractive couple.’
‘Yes, Alexa is a very beautiful woman.’
Ric’s tight voice sent a jolt of shock down her spine. She turned to him. He handed her a champagne flute, his face impassive. From the stiff lines of his shoulders, the hardness of his jaw, she reckoned his compliment was little more than polite etiquette. Irritation simmered in her veins.
Stick-insect stepped forward then, a sultry smile spread her silicone-filled lips. Alexa wanted to say something rude, something that would wipe the smile away. Especially when Mrs Santos directed that smile at Ric.
She touched the material of Alexa’s gown above her hip. ‘Where did you buy this dress, Mr Castillo? It’s beautiful.’
Mrs Santos ran a hand down the silk covering Alexa’s thigh. Her head spun to face Alexa, shock widening her eyes. ‘How did you find underwear so seamless?’
Alexa stepped back from the girl’s touch. Her irritation had hit its peak when the skinny bimbo assumed Ric had bought the dress. Mrs Santos feeling her up, like she was just another tool to get into Ric’s pants, made her blood boil. Now it brimmed over at the attempt to embarrass Alexa in front of the men.
Well, it would take a lot more than her knickerless state to embarrass her—blondie picked a bitch-fest with the wrong girl.
‘Actually, I bought the dress in London,’ Alexa smirked at the gold-digger. ‘Oh, and I’m not wearing any knickers.’
Mr Santos’ face turned scarlet, but an amused smile curved his lips. His wife shot another death glare. ‘I suppose we shouldn’t expect any less from a spoilt heiress, isn’t that right darling?’ She turned to her husband. His mouth gaped. ‘Alexa is the daughter of Robert Green. You remember we stayed at The Crystal? She’s in the news all the time for her trashy behaviour.’
The blood drained from Alexa’s face as understanding dawned on Mr Santos’ expression. If Ric really hadn’t known who she was before, he had a good idea now. He remained wooden and silent beside her. The only word she could think to throw back at the witch with a capital B wasn’t very polite at all. In fact, she reckoned it would get her thrown out of the party. Maybe even Spain.
Mr Santos turned to Ric. ‘I hope your function goes well. I don’t think my wife and I will be attending. Enjoy your evening.’
He tugged his wife away as Ric bid him farewell in Spanish.
Alexa had never been so angry or affronted in her life. Her body almost throbbed with both emotions. There was no way she was going to meet any more of the rich and pompous—especially if Ric was going to spout waffle to score guests and try to use her again. It seemed she’d been right about the scouting.
The band began to play a Sinatra number she recognised. Snaring Ric’s hand, she dragged him to the dance floor amongst the other guests, all swaying to the beat. Having no other options for privacy, she would have to chew him out here where they’d be close enough to whisper without being overheard.
‘Dance with me,’ she said through gritted teeth.
‘Alexa, if you wanted to press yourself against me, all you had to do was ask.’ His tone was light, but his expression was tight and deadly serious. Then again, on closer inspection, the hard lines of his face were rigid with what looked like fury.
‘Dream on, Castillo. I want to talk to you and unfortunately, dancing with you seems to be the only time I’ll have you alone.’
He slid his arms around her waist and rested them just above her buttocks. Half an inch lower and he’d be cupping her backside. The fire in her roared back to life, but she refused to let it overpower her. Fisting her hands, she rested them on his shoulders, positive if she felt the hard muscle there she’d lose herself and the anger she clung onto.
Ric eyed her balled hands with a frown then pulled her against him. Her breasts pushed against his chest and she grabbed his shoulders for balance. Ric’s smirk told her that had been his intention. She stifled an irritated squeal.
His head descended and hovered above her ear, ‘Ladies first.’
Alexa’s mind muddied when the full blow of his spicy aftershave hit her. With their hips pressed together, they swayed to Frank’s husky voice. Still, she fought against her loony hormones and refused to slide her hands along the contours of his shoulders like they craved to.
‘Why did you lie like that?’
Ric’s nose grazed her earlobe. The brief touch sent the fire in her belly burning over her skin. ‘I didn’t lie. You will be there and you will help me organise it.’
Alexa pulled back. His eyes were the colour of scorching espresso. His strong jaw serious. The lusty fire inside morphed into indignation. ‘Not a chance. I’m going home next week.’
But when she saw his expression harden, his eyes set with determination, Alexa squared her shoulders and readied herself for the fight.
Ric whirled Alexa around the dance floor in time with the tempo. The woman had driven him crazy all evening. The dress she sported covered nothing, yet it covered too much for his liking. He was torn between ripping it off, and wrapping his suit jacket around her. Not to mention he’d been worrying all night that she’d step over the mark, make an inappropriate comment, offend someone or embarrass him further.
And then she’d gone and done it, nuclear bomb style. When Santos, a man with more money and influence than Ric had ever known gave him the time of day, he wanted to do anything to secure his attendance at the fundraiser. Even if it meant spending more time with Alexa-the-pantieless-heiress. Heat simmered in his veins, but he ignored it. Although Santos seemed embarrassed, but mostly amused by Alexa’s outburst, it pissed him off. Ric had been right. She didn’t have a brain-to-mouth filter at all.
Now, she’d lost him Santos. Ric gritted his teeth. He knew it hadn’t been entirely her fault. When Santos’ plaything goaded Alexa, Ric froze and waited for the torrent that he expected would come. Instead, she’d kept her mouth shut, even though he could feel the anger pounding off her in waves. Then again, if Alexa had kept her mouth shut about her underwear—or lack thereof—the incident could have been avoided. Making Alexa work for him would be appropriate punishment and would solve his recent problem.
A little into the conversation, he’d made the decision. His party planner announced this morning that her mother was ill and she had to return to Madrid to care for her for a month. That left him up the creek without a clue how to organise a charity ball.
And he bet if anyone could throw a party, it would be the wild party girl Alexa Green. Of course he’d have to supervise, make sure that the party was classy and not trashy, and the close contact could devastate his libido. Still, he didn’t see any other options at such short notice.
He needed to focus all his free time running the hotel and overseeing the building work. This party was something he needed to do for himself. He’d lived on the streets, done things he wasn’t proud of and had been used. If he could help it, no other child would have to suffer what he had.
Alexa was his only option.
‘No, you’re staying here for the next four weeks, helping me plan the charity ball. I think that’s the least you can do after showing up here like this.’ He ran his finger up
