Fierce Pride (24 page)

Julian appeared with a crusted fish dish, and she waited for him to serve it and leave. “Yes, I appreciate the warning. Have you lived with someone?”

“Not really. A couple of girls had a key and stayed for weekends, but I’ve never asked anyone to live with me, because there’s no easy way to ask them to leave.”

She put down her fork and blotted her lips. “That’s what you’re thinking when you begin dating a woman, that you don’t want a messy breakup?”

“There’s always an end, Libby. I’m just being realistic.”

She didn’t look up from her fish. “Just because your father could have run a shuttle for the women he had coming and going here doesn’t mean you have to follow his example.”

He finished his fish. “Let’s talk about something else. The photo shoot is at eleven, and you’re coming with me. If they try to pose me on a stuffed tiger’s back, you can back me up when I refuse.”

She wondered if he never discussed personal topics, or if his father was simply off limits. Either way, he’d stopped the conversation just when it had gotten interesting. “I’ll be happy to go. I’d like to see how it’s done.”

Julian arrived with a savory beef dish, and Libby sat back in her chair. “This is all delicious. I need to keep running for an hour at least every day.”

“You’re not to go out alone,” he insisted.

Hopping around on crutches, he couldn’t stop her, but he was a very generous employer, and she let him have his way, momentarily. “Fine, then I’ll swim and stay in sight of the house.”

“Swimming is too dangerous. The man who followed you this morning could drown you before anyone could come to your rescue.”

“It’s always wise to be cautious, but if someone is watching us, we shouldn’t let them suspect we’re on to them.”

“Someone is watching us,” he emphasized. “They’ve even been in the house, but they won’t get in again.”

He was being very protective for a man who worried about how to get rid of the women he dated. She wasn’t a date, though. She was simply an affectionate personal trainer. “It must be a relief for you to know I’ll be leaving in August, so there’ll be no threat of a messy breakup.”

His fork clattered on his plate. He regarded her with a knowing stare. “Tonight is all that concerns to me.”

Taking that as a warning he was in no mood for banter, or the truth, she waited until they’d finished dessert to announce her plans. “I’m going to read in a bubble bath and sleep in my own room tonight.”

He stared at her, his dark eyes bright. “No, you’re sleeping with me. It’s too dangerous for you to be alone.”

She stood and moved the chair and small table away from his bed. “We’re safe here. The security company has the house fully wired now.”

He reached for her hand. “I don’t care. You’re sleeping with me.”

Clearly he meant it, but he couldn’t pick her up and plunk her on his bed, which had to frustrate him. To make matters worse, his knee hurt. He wouldn’t want her pity, though. She squeezed his fingers and pulled her hand free. “Fine, I’ll sleep in your bed, but let’s just sleep.”

“Whatever you want,” he replied. He reached for his guitar and played a few chords. “Stay in the bathtub as long as you like. I’ll work on my song.”

“It’s a beautiful melody.” She closed his door behind her, but rather than go to her room, she went downstairs and out on the patio. Tomas and the boys were cleaning up the kitchen, so as far as she saw it, she wasn’t alone. The ocean had a gorgeous shimmer and the scattered moonlight drew her to the shore, but she stayed by the house until Tomas was ready to leave.

“Good night, I’ll see you in the morning,” she said.

“I’ll pray you have a more peaceful night tonight,” the chef replied in halting English.

Libby thanked him, but peaceful wasn’t a word she associated with Santos. She stopped by his room on her way to her own. She knocked lightly and waited for him to invite her in. “What if I asked Tomas’s chubby helper to come running with me? I wouldn’t be alone, and he needs the exercise.”

Santos set his guitar aside. “Adolfo is paid to work in the kitchen. I doubt Tomas can spare him, and just because you think he needs more exercise doesn’t mean he’d welcome it. Besides, he would be useless as a bodyguard.”

“Outside of that, do you mind if I ask him to run with me?”

Santos laughed in spite of himself. “Do you always get your way?”

“Not always, but a good percentage of the time. I need to keep moving, Santos. I’ve never been any good at sitting still. I’ll take Mrs. Lopez with me if I have to, but the beach is such a great place to run, and I’d hate to be this close and miss the opportunity.”

“Let’s discuss this while you rub my feet.”

She came to the end of his bed and began with his right foot and took care not to twist his leg. His feet were as handsome as the rest of him, which was no surprise. “Maggie was such a studious little girl, and when I followed with the same teachers, they expected me to be as calm and quiet. I was a better student than Patricia, but that’s not saying much.”

“Did you have a competition with your sisters?”

“I couldn’t be Maggie and didn’t try. I don’t know what Patricia was thinking, if she was thinking.” She worked on his toes. “What if I ran at night when no one could follow me?”

“We’d have to put reflective tape on your clothes, which would defeat the purpose.”

“We don’t have to use tape. I can keep my wits about me. I wouldn’t run into anyone.”

“Maybe not, but you might trip over something you couldn’t see in the dark and be badly injured.”

“I’ll buy a pair of night vision glasses.”

Santos sighed wearily. “Let’s just go to my gym, and you can run the whole day on a treadmill if you like.”

“With this glorious beach so near the house? No. I want to be outside where the breeze catches my hair and the air smells salty like the sea.”

He grabbed a fistful of the top sheet. “All right, you can run, but not until I’ve had a chance to hire a bodyguard.”

She smiled. “Aren’t you worried I might grow overly fond of him?”

“No, I’ll hire a woman with combat training.”

She rubbed his heel. “Every action has consequences, doesn’t it?”

“What are you threatening now?”

“You have the most impressive scowl. I ought to be terrified.”

He leaned forward to reach for her arm and pulled her up beside him. “I may not write a recommendation for you after all.”

“The chance to live in Barcelona is worth far more than any recommendation you might give.” She leaned close to kiss him, and he grabbed hold of her hair to keep her close.

“Take a bath later,” he whispered.

She rubbed her cheek against his. “I wish I had something sexy to wear.”

He pulled back. “Go look in my father’s room. It’s next to mine. He used to keep lingerie for gifts in the bottom drawer of his dresser.”

She sat up. “He told you that?”

“What? That women like pretty things? Doesn’t every man already know it? Go and look. If you find something you like, take it. Take it all if you want.”

She slid off the side of the bed. Not certain what she’d find, she hoped Miguel hadn’t been into kinky sex and kept a supply of black leather corsets and whips. She turned on the light in his room, and, while it was as handsomely decorated as Santos’s, the air held an eerie chill. The mahogany dresser had a deep bottom drawer, and as she pulled it open, she caught a glimpse of silvery tissue paper.

Thinking maybe her cat sleep shirt would do after all, she carefully opened the tissue and found a lacy red nightgown and matching negligee. It was a gorgeous set with a designer label, but when she read the tags, she couldn’t believe Miguel would have spent so much. She sat cross-legged on the floor and took out the next tissue wrapped package. This set was a delicious cream-color silk trimmed with ecru lace, something a bride might wear. She set it aside and took out the last carefully folded package. The pale lavender silk spilled over her hands and pooled around her. The nightgown and negligee were so lovely she didn’t dare wear them, and she replaced all three sets and closed the drawer. When she stood up, Santos was leaning on his crutches by the door.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you find anything you liked?” he asked.

“No, I loved them all, but they’re far too elegant for me, and I can’t sleep in them. I’ll buy something myself.”

“They’re made to be too beautiful to sleep in,” he explained softly. “A woman wears them to seduce a man, so he’ll think sex was his idea.”

Apparently Miguel didn’t require much to be seduced, but she wouldn’t malign a dead man and kept silent. She walked toward him. “I’m no good at subtle seduction.”

“Thank God.”

His aggressive kiss startled her, but she relaxed into his arms. They were alone in the house and could have sex in the hallway if they so desired. “We have the whole house,” she whispered in his ear. “How soft is the carpet here?”

“It’s very soft and thickly padded,” he murmured before grazing her lip with the tip of his tongue. “But what if I’m too relaxed to stand? I’d hate to have Mrs. Lopez find me lying in the hallway when she comes in tomorrow morning.”

“I wouldn’t leave you collapsed in the hall.”

He ran his hands down her slender arms. “I doubt you could help me stand.”

“So do I, but I know enough to call Manuel to help me. Or would that embarrass you too badly?”

“He’s rescued me from worse fates, but not recently.” He kissed her cheek. “Bring the lavender set and take it home as a souvenir.”

She hesitated, then thought she could take it home smelling of him and never wash the set. “All right. I’ll get it.” She draped the lush silk over her arm and followed him to his room. “I’m going to bathe. I’ll wake you if you fall asleep.”

He turned at the door and slid his fingertips down her arm in a gentle caress. “I could sit in the bathroom and keep you company.”

There was a huge bottle of fragrant bubble bath beside the tub, but she doubted she could make the bubbles thick enough to cover everything she’d rather he didn’t see. “That’s sweet, but I want to be alone.”

She left to go to her room and locked the door just in case he became inspired to follow. Maggie had nice boobs and Patricia had a pair of beauties, but somehow the boob gene had missed her. She had a friend who’d gotten implants the summer before they’d entered the university and swore it was the smartest move she’d ever made. Libby stuck with her padded bras from Victoria’s Secret.

She filled the tub and slid under the water to get thoroughly wet and whipped the bubble bath into foamy peaks. She supposed she could drape a washcloth over her chest, but Santos would laugh at her for that. He’d been so understanding in the dark. She wasn’t about to push her luck with the lights on.

“Damn it, I forgot my book.” Too relaxed to get out for it, she enjoyed the bubble bath until so much time had passed she feared Santos really would have fallen asleep.

After she left the tub, she wrapped herself in a shamefully fluffy towel and blew her hair dry. She held distinct misgivings as she slipped the gorgeous lavender gown over her head. The silk washed down her body with the soft chill of thick cream and flowed around her ankles. She turned in front of the full-length bathroom mirror and didn’t recognize herself in the beautiful reflection. She’d left her hair curling over her shoulders, and the gown had a lace bodice that enhanced what little bust she had. Once she’d added the negligee, she looked like a princess.

She went into Santos’s room and made a slow turn. “I feel like Cinderella, but this just isn’t me.”

Still on his bed, his dark hair falling over his brow, he looked completely absorbed in his music, until he looked up and licked his lips. “You’re not seeing what I’m seeing, and it’s definitely you. Come here.”

He offered his hand, and she moved close to take it. He lifted her across his lap and nuzzled her neck. “Stop it, that tickles,” she begged.

“It’s supposed to.” He wound her hair around his hand, then let the gentle curl fall free. “You ought to stand still once in a while and appreciate how beautiful you truly are.”

She rolled her eyes. “Please, I like you a lot. You needn’t flatter me.”

“It’s not empty flattery,” he swore, his voice low and sincere.

He kissed her to silence her denials, and she wound her arms around his neck to return his affection. He slid a hand to her breast, and his touch felt twice as good through the silk. She sighed softly and pushed against his hand. “How does the silk feel to you?”

“Luscious, like you.” He rolled to pull her down beside him and brushed her hair from her forehead. “Your eyes are such a pretty blue; they’re perfect with your fair hair.”

“Santos, please stop. I know you like me.” What she really knew was that men would go for any woman with blonde hair and legs as long as hers. It was their default setting. Maggie had warned her Santos was particularly partial to blondes. She kept her cynical thoughts from flavoring her kiss, but she liked all of him, not just his dark hair and eyes.

She reached for the hem of his T-shirt. “Remember, I’m not your valet. Take this off.”

He sat up to comply, and she ran her hand over his chest and down his flat belly. “You don’t need the shorts either.” She unbuttoned the top button.