grimaced. ‘Damn. You don’t play fair.’
A ghost of a smile curved his mouth. ‘No. I don’t.’
She reached for the case to extract her sketchbook, an absurd part of her acknowledging she would be totally crushed if he didn’t like it. Calling herself all kinds of a fool, she held it out to him.
Alejandro opened it. Surprise flickered in his eyes, then both eyebrows gradually spiked with each page he perused. Finally, when she didn’t think she would be able to stand the tension, he raised his head. ‘Que están más allá de magnífica,’ he rasped.
‘Translation, please,’ she whispered.
‘Magnificent.’
Pleasure shot through her, her smile powered by a thousand bulbs of happiness. ‘Thank you.’
He stared at her for a beat before returning his attention to the pages. ‘This is what you intend to do when you’re done with Jameson?’
‘It’s what I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but...’
‘But?’
‘I was afraid I’d lost...something. My work has felt stilted for a long time now.’
He regarded her steadily. ‘You had other things on your mind.’
Slowly she nodded. ‘Yes.’
Deft fingers leafed through the pages with escalating speed. ‘And your parents have a problem with this?’
Her fist knotted on the sheet. ‘My parents have a problem with most things I do. Or more accurately, what I don’t—’ She bit her tongue to stop words she didn’t want to spill.
His head lifted from the pages, green eyes narrowed. ‘What do they want?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d prefer not to—’
‘Your talent is undeniable. So tell me why they’d choose not to support you,’ he pressed.
‘Do your parents support you in everything you do?’
His face froze, a darkly forbidding look blanketing his features. ‘We’re not talking about me.’
‘Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.’
For a long minute, she thought he wouldn’t respond. ‘I haven’t sought my parents’ approval and they haven’t been in a position to give it because I haven’t spoken to them in almost fifteen years,’ he clipped out. ‘Now you.’
Elise closed the mouth that had dropped open and tried to stem the rising dread. ‘I don’t like talking about them.’
His jaw tensed for a second. ‘Because I erroneously likened you to them?’
The plane jarred her stomach into free fall for a second but her gaze didn’t leave his face. ‘Maybe. You have me as your captive audience at thirty-four thousand feet. Tell me what you’d have said differently.’
‘I wouldn’t have thrown your parents’ reputation in your face, for a start. I, more than anyone, should know that genetically we’re formed from their blueprints, but we’re not the sum total of our parents’ beliefs and actions.’
A sudden lump in her throat made it hard to breathe or speak. She tried anyway. ‘I... Thanks.’ She swallowed. Then realised he was waiting for more. ‘They think I’m not making the most of my...assets.’
He tensed. ‘Your assets,’ he breathed.
‘You want to know why I smile at everyone I meet?’
His eyes gleamed dangerously. ‘Not particularly, but go on.’
‘Because at seventeen, my mother told me that not smiling would make me more mysterious and attractive to men. That I would have them falling at my feet if I maintained a certain...aloofness. I’ve been getting advice like that since I hit puberty. After what happened with Brian, I wondered for a while if they’d been right.’ She laughed bitterly. ‘I even wondered whether I’d invited the assault.’
He captured her nape so fast, her breath stalled. ‘You did not,’ he said through clenched teeth. ‘That was all him. Never think otherwise.’
She nodded jerkily, her chest tightening with the intensity of him.
After a moment, he relaxed and released her. Lounging back on the bed, he regarded her. ‘So you decided to smile because you didn’t wish to have men falling at your feet?’
She grimaced. ‘That sounds ludicrous, I know. They can fall all they want. I’d just prefer they wait two seconds and engage my intellect before they decide I’m worth falling for. Besides, all those potentially falling bodies to navigate? If I wanted that, I’d have trained as a stuntwoman.’
His low laugh dispelled the knot in her midriff, and promptly replaced it with a glow. ‘That would be a sight to behold.’
She smiled. ‘Thankfully, you’ll never have to see it. I’m not built for that profession, either.’
His gaze lingered for a heartbeat, before raking down her body. ‘At the risk of being called a chauvinist, I won’t divulge my thoughts on what you’re built for.’
She pressed her lips together to stop herself from demanding he tell her. Because the heat swirling in his eyes wasn’t dangerous enough!
But he looked down. Started to turn the page.
‘Wait!’ Elise lunged forward.
His breath audibly caught.
The plane lurched, throwing her into an awkward sprawl next to him. He caught and steadied her with one hand, his other holding the page open. The page that held his image. Silence, thick and heavy, hung in the room.
Elise tried to move. He held her still, his gaze rising to hers.
‘This is how you see me?’ he rasped after an interminable age. His voice was completely devoid of emotion, depriving her of any insight as to how he felt about the drawing.
She swallowed hard. ‘I... Yes.’
Unreadable eyes dropped to the image again, prompting hers to follow. ‘I look...’
‘Angry. Sad. Lonely. Invincible.’
‘Dios. Why did you draw it?’ he demanded roughly.
‘I don’t know.’
‘Yes, you do. Why?’ he pressed.
‘I couldn’t concentrate...because you were on my mind?’
‘Is that a question? Either I was or I wasn’t.’
She was aware she was skirting that edge of danger she’d craved mere minutes ago. Her blood thrummed wildly in her ears. ‘You were. Very much.’
He
