Her Billionaire Beast (Her Billionaire CEO, #7) Page 11
“I was just about to come up, sir.”
“Tell Leon to fire up the helicopter.”
“Very well, sir. Would you like any of your security team to come with you?”
“Yes, that would be good. Two or three, whoever is available. Right now!”
As Alejandro made his way down, his security detail were already waiting for him. They went out, the chill of the evening seeping past the open collar of his shirt and cooling him on his wet hair.
“What’s going on, sir?” Max asked.
“Miss Drake is in trouble. We are on the hunt for her. Put my car on the tracker and find her for me.”
“Right away, sir.”
Alejandro called her cell phone. At first, she didn’t answer. At the third ring, she did.
“Alejandro.”
His name sounded sweet on her lips. But he sensed panic, and worry beset him.
“What’s wrong, mi cara?”
“Those bikers. They’re following me down the highway.”
“I see.” His mouth turned into a grim line. “I’m bringing my security in a helicopter and we’re coming to get you.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was muffled, and filled with distress before she hung up.
With Max guiding him, Alejandro got in the waiting helicopter.
Max’s voice came through the headset. “Miss Drake is making her way down the highway, into an exit. The first one for Sevilla downtown.”
Alejandro called Isa back. “We’ve found you. Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” She sounded even more panicked now. “I don’t know where I am. I had programmed her for a hotel downtown, but—”
She screamed, and then the line went dead.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Isa dropped the phone in her panic. The car stopped once again, because the biker gang had managed to get a couple of their hogs in front of her car. And Reina wasn’t going to run them over.
Isa jammed the manual button and drove straight for the bikes blocking her path. They veered off in a hurry, but not quickly enough to avoid the hood plowing and knocking into them.
She looked back for one satisfied moment but it wasn’t time to be rejoicing yet. Two bikers jammed their motorcycles against her fender, sending Reina straight for a barricade and bouncing out in a half-circle. The impact stunned Isa. These guys just wouldn’t quit.
What if they had guns?
Alejandro said the car was bullet-proof. She was safe.
The passenger door that hit the barricade popped open.
Heavens.
It must have unlocked from the impact.
The ringleader leaned into the cab, his body reeking of body odor, his stringy hair trailing over her. He yanked at her arm and tried dragging her out of the car. She kicked and slapped at him, but that only made him renew his efforts.
Just then, a helicopter hovered overhead. It began its descent, whipping the air into a frenzy. Her attacker let her go and made a disgusted sound.
“Vámonos,” he told his group.
Isa pulled the door shut and locked all the doors.
The bikers leaned their faces against the glass with surly expressions, before hopping on their motorcycles and high-tailing it out of there.
Dust swirled as the black helicopter landed in the field next to Reina. A door swung open and out jumped Max, guiding Alejandro to Reina’s driver’s door. Isa opened it and threw her arms around Alejandro’s neck. She kissed his face, his neck, and finally his mouth. He kissed her until her knees threatened to buckle under.
He leaned his forehead against hers. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.”
He nuzzled her cheek. “Gracias a Dios.”
He followed her into the helicopter.
“Are you all right, ma’am?” Max asked solicitously from the open door.
“Yes,” Isa whispered, even as her teeth chattered from delayed shock.
“Glad you’re safe.” Max nodded and shut the door.
“Where is he going?” she asked Alejandro, curious.
“He’ll drive Reina home.”
She reached over and squeezed his hand. “Thank you for coming for me.”
“Of course.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I’m glad I did. Those thugs are of the devil.”
She shuddered, remembering how the ringleader grabbed at her. She would have been lucky to come out alive.
The pilot asked Alejandro something in Spanish and he responded. Alejandro turned to Isa. “He’s asking me if we’re ready to let him lift off. I didn’t want the noise of the chopper to drown you out.”
Apprehension filled her. “Are you taking me back to the castle?” she asked.
He looked taken aback. “Would you like me to?” he said, his voice low.
“Only if I have a reason to come back,” she replied softly.
“Are you asking if I will cooperate with the book?”
“If you say yes, you can’t change your mind. Touch-move, like my dad used to say about chess.”
“Touch-move.” He winced. “Yes.”
“Yes on the book?”
He took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“No more tantrums?”
“No promises. But yes, you can count on me to cooperate.”
She fell silent. “No promises?” she echoed with an ache in her chest.
“All right.” He visibly swallowed. “I promise.”
“Even if the questions make you squirm?”
“I might decline at that moment, but I won’t shut it down. Is that enough?”
Touch-move.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He reached over and she let him catch her hand. With one last squeeze, he let her go. The helicopter fired up and lifted off.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Alejandro had never worked harder in his life.
Well, unless you count those weeks right before a commission deadline when he hardly slept to deliver a painting on time.
“Good morning,” Isa would tell him every morning at breakfast, all cheery. He would grunt into his coffee and pretend to scowl at the prospect of more interviews. Isa just barreled on, however, as though she were the tour director on a beach resort, consulting her notes on a clip board.
“Today, we’ll talk about your school years.”
“I had tutors at home.”
“That still counts as school years.”
One morning, the prospect of working all day didn’t excite him at all. He wasn’t particularly keen on being interviewed again, this time about his teenage years, so he offered her a deal.
“We’ll work in the morning,” he conceded, “but in the afternoon, you will go do something fun with me.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Is that an order?”
“Please?” he added. “Will you do something fun with me some afternoons?”
“Fun? Who are you and what did you do to Alejandro Diaz?” she teased.
“The more we sit around, the more I get restless,” he said. “You have forever cured me of writing books. I would just as soon paint blind. It would be infinitely easier!”
“All right, Mr. Painter. What is your idea of fun?”
“I want to get out again. Ride horses. Go on a superbike...”
“Did you say a superbike?”
“Yes.” He grinned.
“You have one of those self-driving ones too?”
“Two actually...”
She gaped but of course he couldn’t see. “Who supplies you with these toys again?” she asked.
“There’s a company out of New York which specializes in billionaire toys, if you will. High-tech gadgets, vehicles and buildings that are custom-designed for the right price. It’s run by a family of billionaire inventors who came up with things like they couldn’t find anywhere else.”
“Interesting.”
“When I started going blind, I reached out to the CEO, Blaze Donova
n, and asked him if he could configure some vehicles for me. He was more than happy to oblige.”
“Do you mind my asking how much they cost?”
“For both, a half a million dollars.”
“Maybe he can make you special glasses for your blindness.”
He chewed on that thought. “Mmm. Maybe.”
“Okay,” she said, “time to work.”
“But first...” he said, reaching over and pulling her into a kiss.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Isa shook her head, perplexed. Alejandro Diaz was like weather over a mountain in the summer. Unpredictable.
One moment, he was easygoing and relaxed. Another and he could be trying to bite her head off, or disengaging, scuttling all the goodwill they’d built up so far. Today, he was extra sweet.
She bit her lip and smiled at the memory of his kiss. And now he wanted to have fun.
She’d lived in the castle for two weeks. At the rate they were going, she should be able to cover his life in another two weeks’ time. Her stomach roiled at the thought of leaving, so she tried to ignore it in her mind. They would deal with her departure when it happened.
They still hedged around his dad. But at least even if they skirted the issue, Alejandro wasn’t trying to push her away like he used to.
Try as she might to keep everything on a professional level, their kisses had turned more...intense. Emotional. Like a little spark combusting into a flame. As though they both knew nothing in this world would last.
She sensed this, as she probed his life. The more she understood him, the more he redeemed himself in her eyes.
They had gone to the library but Isa left for a moment to fill up her water bottle. When she returned, Alejandro was standing by the window, his face turned to the light.
His profile, with his thick stubble, was handsome, virile. All man. He hadn’t become aware of her yet. He hadn’t cocked his head in acknowledgement, and she took her fill of admiring him.
He was beautiful. In his long-sleeved shirt and slacks, he looked relaxed but in charge. A man who seized what he wanted.
The memory of their kisses surfaced then, and suddenly, an ache of desire swirled in her stomach.
She cleared her throat. “Hello.”
He stirred, his expression brightening. “Hello.”
She sat at her usual spot, on a couch. Usually, he sat on a chair by the window, probably unaware that with his back turned to her, she had to often squint against the light filtering through the window.
As she did now.
His dark silhouette made her think of a beast.
“Are you comfortable in the castle?” he asked.
“Y-yes,” she stammered in surprise.
“Good. I just...”
“Yes?”
“I know we haven’t had a lot of time like that first night, to go out and explore Sevilla.”
“It’s certainly not your responsibility to entertain me. I have plenty enough to do.”
“Don’t forget my promise. I will work with you during the day, but we get to play in the afternoon.”
Her stomach fluttered with excitement. “Yes.”
He nodded and blurted out, “I am ready to talk about my father.”
Her fingers paused over her keyboard. She was almost afraid to type, but she remained silent. Shocked.
“Did you hear me?” he asked.
“Yes, I did.” She leaned over and checked to make sure her little silver digital recorder was on.
“My father was descended from gypsies,” he began, “about as opposite as my mother, who had a tinge of Spanish nobility in her veins. He came from a large family, but largely raised himself. There were so many mouths to feed, he had to fight for leftovers or crumbs. He liked the whole ham bone and didn’t like to share.
“My mother wanted to be a nun, as many of the wealthy daughters liked to do in those days. They met during mass, setting eyes on the other across the chapel. He knew of her family. He not only admired her beauty, but he liked the idea that he could marry into wealth were she to agree to marry him. Of course, my father had quite a job to do to even be able to meet my mother. Without having her wealthy family try to run him out of the room, that is.”
“What did he do?” Isa asked.
“He saved his share of sweets and bribed his sister to make a dress that might fit Plumeria—my mother. She made the dress, out of an old castoff, but which still showed well. And then he took this dress and rapped on the door of my mother’s home.”
Alejandro shifted in his seat, a smile tugging at his lips. “He asked for the daughter of the house. She didn’t come to the door, of course; that would have been inappropriate for her to deal with a merchant. But he convinced a servant that what he had would please Plumeria. She came down at the servant’s behest. They had caught fleeting glances of each other at the church, but without the distractions, they fell in love at second glance.”
Isa imagined the couple, looking across the room and getting smitten.
“Of course my mother couldn’t admit this freely, not until they were promised to each other. With quaking knees, she told her mother, who promptly told her husband. He shut Isa in her bedroom for a week.”
“What?” Isa exclaimed.
“You don’t know what conservative Spanish parents are capable of.”
“We’re talking about modern times, yes?”
He nodded. “1960s.”
She shrugged. “I thought you were talking about medieval times. But anyway...”
“So there was my mother, languishing in her temporary cell, hoping for deliverance. Worried about my father, who had forgotten about her while carousing in Barcelona.”
“Hmmpf.”
“Yes, I share your derision. It really shows his character, I think. Or lack thereof. My mother somehow convinced her parents to let her attend mass in the nearby church. And wouldn’t you know, my father was there.”
His mouth twisted bitterly. “Fate should have kept them apart, but it flung them together. He passed a note to her, where she could meet him. He may have been cocky, but he was not stupid. He knew that she would do his bidding if given the opportunity. She opened the letter and read his plan to come in as a maintenance worker to their compound.”
“That seems brave or stupid.”
“Both, actually. What did my father have to lose? He’d already been in jail several times. For pettier crimes with a lesser prize.”
“So what happened?”
“He got in the compound and scaled the wall to my mother’s second-floor bedroom. Right against a rose vine that cut him to pieces. Or so he claimed to my mother who of course felt compelled to kiss his hands into healing.” He paused. “And then he kissed her.”
Isa realized she was sitting on the edge of her seat. When he didn’t continue, she said, “That’s it? You won’t give any details?”
A knowing smile hovered over his lips. “Would you like me to?”
“Yes,” she murmured.
“Very well.”
“Wait. How do you know all this?”
“Largely from my own imagination.”
“You mean you’re making this up?”
“How else would I know this? I am neither my mother nor my father. I hadn’t been born then.”
“I mean, you could have read a journal...”
“No journals.” His expression darkened. “My father isn’t that foolish. To write down his sins and crimes would be too incriminating.”
“Well, yes, I can see that.”
“But back to the kiss.”
“The kiss, yes.” Again, she felt breathless.
“She bowed her head over his hand and kissed a scratch or two. He tucked his hand under her beautiful, heavy tresses and lifted her face so that her lips were his for the taking. She closed her eyes and he took from her not just one kiss, but three.”
“Three.” Isa’s throat constricted. She imagined the furtive kisses in a young w
oman’s bedroom, like the furtive kisses she and Alejandro had shared. Isa gripped the arm rest of her chair, enthralled.
“The first was a small peck. Light and airy, like an angel’s kiss. The second lingered longer, slid against her lips and demanded a bit more. In the last, he poured his passion, when he realized he actually loved her.”
Isa felt her blood rushing to her head. “Love? I thought he was a scoundrel.”
“He loved her in his own way. Maybe not in a sincere way, but he wanted her as no man had ever wanted her. At that moment, someone entered her room. Her father’s face glowered from the doorway, promising bodily harm to my father.”
“And?”
“And my mother shielded him with her body and declared if he didn’t let them marry, she would throw herself off the balcony.”
Isa’s hands flew to her face. “Oh dear. Did she have to make good on her promise?”
“No. But it scared her father enough that he gave them his reluctant blessing.”
“So your father got his way.”
“Yes. Unfortunately.” Alejandro stroked his jaw. Isa stared at him, wondering how his stubble would feel like under her fingertips. Recognizing her foolishness, she returned to her task. “And then?”
“I think we need a break.” His shadowed face looked devilish at the moment.
“No,” she said, almost moaning.
“My turn for something fun, remember?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Telling Isa about his father and mother’s love story had been liberating... and depressing. Alejandro had hated his father for so long that talking about him like he was some sort of hero in a star-crossed love story made him almost real. He shook the feeling off and was glad for the excuse to do something different.
They went to the stables, where he’d arranged ahead of time for Kristal and Jaguar to be saddled and tacked up. His heart raced at the prospect of riding once again. He had ridden on and off since losing his sight, usually with one of the stable hands. Riding with Isa would be different.
“I get Kristal?” she said, sounding excited.