Her Billionaire Beast (Her Billionaire CEO, #7)

by Allen, Jewel

  When he finally surfaced, they were both breathing raggedly. He felt her finger on his cheek.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  “Whatever for?”

  “I didn’t want you to think I lured you here to get that kiss.”

  He pressed a finger across her swollen lips. “I don’t mind nor do I care how we got here.” He dipped his lips to kiss her again, but she pressed a palm against his mouth.

  “No,” she said. “We shouldn’t.”

  “We already have. What is the problem, Isabella Drake?” He proceeded to kiss her ear. She squirmed under his caress then ducked her head and away.

  “You know why.”

  “Honestly, I don’t see why. We are both consenting adults. You and I are unattached.”

  “But the book contract—”

  “I would curse that contract, but I realize now that it brought us together, so I tolerate it. Barely.”

  “Anyway, this is highly unprofessional—”

  He silenced her with a kiss. When he lifted his head, she felt relaxed in his arms. “On the contrary, you are very good.”

  She pushed at his chest. “Please, Alejandro. You and I barely know each other. And I’m leaving soon.”

  His jaw clenched. “I’m sure you can come up with more reasons to reject me, even if I tried to address each one. What is the real reason?”

  “I’m scared.”

  “Of what, mi cara?”

  “Of getting hurt.”

  “I am too.”

  “Then let’s not compound it by kissing and...and all that. At least let’s get to know each other a little better.”

  He sighed. “You win this time. I don’t know what your standards are, but if you will let me know when you are ready, I can wait.”

  “Thank you.” She clasped his hands and squeezed them.

  It took all of his will power to not pull her into another kiss, but he respected her wishes and simply squeezed her hands back.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Isa was still shaken from their earth-shattering kisses. Alejandro had been good to his word. He was the one disciplined enough to just touch her shoulder and not make any other physical overtures.

  What exactly did she expect, trying that kissing stunt in that alley?

  As she passed Alejandro to get to the passenger side, she caught a whiff of his musk scent and nearly melted.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  He got in, not speaking. She wondered if he was frustrated from her mixed signals. Away from business, she was only human, with weaknesses.

  Alejandro Diaz was her weakness.

  She had admired him before. With their emotional connection, she felt closer to him. But now, with the physical...she was feeling unsettled. Could they really have a future together, even after she returned to the States?

  “Reina is amazing,” Isa said, as the car pulled out into traffic.

  “Isn’t she? She’s one of two prototypes in the world that is fully automated.”

  “You’re wrong, you know,” Isa teased.

  “Oh?”

  “KITT was the first one.”

  “KITT?”

  “From Knight Rider. That 80s show.”

  Alejandro smiled. “I would’ve guessed that you aren’t old enough to know that. I vaguely remember hearing my parents talk about it.”

  “I’ve seen it on subscription TV,” she said.

  “And what does KITT do?”

  “He’s an artificially intelligent sports car.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “So now, there’s three.” Alejandro voiced for the air conditioner to lower its temperature, and for the music to come on at a soothing level. Latin music notes flooded the cab.

  “Where’s car number two?” Isa asked.

  “In Italy. One of the sports car manufacturers is testing it for speed.”

  “How fast can Reina go?”

  Alejandro grinned. “Want to find out?”

  “No,” Isa said, panicked, touching his sleeve. He turned towards her, as though aware of her touch, and she withdrew her hand.

  “Not even a little bit?” he asked.

  “I suppose, it’s okay when we get out of the busier streets.”

  “Tell me then, when you’re ready.”

  Isa didn’t answer for a long moment. And then she said, “Fine.”

  “As in, right now?”

  A deep breath. Then, “Sure.”

  In Spanish, Alejandro gave his instructions. The car engine whined, and engaged into the next gear.

  “I suppose no one can steal this car from you unless they speak Spanish?” Isa said over the noise of the acceleration.

  “No, I can instruct in any language. She’s smart that way. She will, however, only recognize someone else’s voice if I command her to. Or respond to my remote control.”

  Disappointment pooled in Isa’s chest. “Oh.”

  “Why? Did you want to instruct her?”

  “I wanted to tell her to peel out.”

  “Peel out?”

  “Where you spin fast, but you probably need an icy surface for that...”

  “Is everything clear?” Alejandro interrupted.

  “Yes, why?”

  He told Reina, in English, “Stop, then turn 180 degrees.”

  Reina did as she was told. If they hadn’t been wearing seatbelts, Isa was sure that they’d have been ejected.

  “Whoa,” Isa said, her voice woozy. “You know we’re going the other way now, right?”

  “I couldn’t see, no, but I can well imagine.”

  “Not only that,” Isa said, her voice rising, “but we’ve attracted a motorcycle gang.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  Isa gave the play-by-play. “Two motorcycles are pulling away from the pack. They are riding alongside. One—”

  She screamed as a loud thud sounded.

  “What is happening?” Alejandro said, his body taut.

  “He just hit your window with a ball and chain!”

  “Won’t hurt the car. It has a special covering that can resist weapons known to man.”

  Her voice hitched. “Like a gun?”

  “Especially a gun.”

  Whoever it was, was persistent. Continuous thuds rocked the car slightly.

  “You know,” Alejandro said, “this is getting kind of boring.” He said something in Spanish.

  Once again, Reina turned on a dime, this time headed home. The engine hummed slightly louder, then took off, like a jet.

  After a minute, the g-force let up enough for Isa to be able to speak again. “That was freaky.”

  “Maybe I have the advantage of not being able to see. Was he making faces at you?”

  “I wish that was all.” Isa looked back at the motorcycles getting smaller as they out sped them. “He was making lewd hand gestures at me. I’m sure if they got in the car...they would have hurt us.”

  She patted the dashboard. “Good girl, Reina.” Then she glanced at Alejandro. “Who are they?”

  “I’ve run into them a time or two,” Alejandro said, shrugging. “I know of them. They like to terrorize Sevilla once in a while.”

  “I didn’t know that motorcycle gangs roam around here too,” she said.

  “They are starting to become more popular. Many come from Germany and Denmark. Most are in the illicit drug trade, but they don’t hesitate to hijack luxury cars.”

  “They look like they could seriously hurt someone.”

  “Yes they can.”

  She touched his arm. “I’m glad I was with you.”

  He turned his face towards her and the direction of her hand. She let it drop, his warmth still burning her fingers. It was a silly thing to say. It’s not like Alejandro saved them or anything. He just happened to own Reina.

  But it was still nice to not be alone around those thugs.

  “It’s been an exciting evening,” he murmured.

  “I coul
d do without the motorcycle gang,” Isa said, chuckling.

  “Me too.”

  She tried to read the gauges and panels on the dashboard. “How much longer until your castle?”

  Alejandro asked Reina, who responded, “Diez minutos.”

  “Ten minutes,” Isa said, before Alejandro could translate. She kicked off her shoes and raised her arms behind her head, stretching languorously. Sitting in that flamenco show, and with the evening ending in that little car chase, made her body ache from tension. If he could see, she wouldn’t have flaunted her body like she was, but the way he cocked his head, she wondered if he could sense the movement, or even a shape...

  If he did, he said nothing. He simply turned to face forward and relaxed his hands on his lap.

  “It’s crazy that this car is driving itself home,” Isa commented.

  Alejandro nodded. “When I first got her, I didn’t know what to do with my hands. I was constantly fidgeting.”

  “I keep wanting to remind you to hold the steering wheel.”

  He put his arms behind his head in a relaxed position, like she had a few moments earlier. The fabric of his polo shirt strained against his defined muscles. She allowed herself to stare for a moment, and then looked frontward.

  “What are you thinking?” he said.

  “Pardon me?”

  “You got quiet, all of a sudden.”

  I was thinking how gorgeous you are.

  “The moon is out,” she said in a panic.

  “Is it? What does it look like?”

  “Like a wonderland. The trees are silver in the moonlight.” She leaned forward as she caught something moving in the darkness. “An owl just flew past.”

  “Also silver?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is it a full moon?”

  Isa peered at the sky. “Not really. Not quite full.”

  “That sounds beautiful.”

  “It is.”

  “I wish I could see you in the moonlight.”

  His voice was low with unconcealed desire. Her breath caught in her throat.

  Fortunately, his cell phone rang. “Pardon me.”

  He spoke rapid Spanish and then turned to Isa. “It’s Horatio. He wondered if we wanted dessert. What should I tell him?”

  “I can never turn down dessert,” she said, smiling.

  “Any preference?”

  “I haven’t had churros yet.”

  “No?” He raised an eyebrow, concluded the phone call and hung up. “How could you miss out on that Spanish experience?”

  “I don’t know. You’ve kept me busy enough, I suppose.”

  “Doing everything but the object you came for.”

  Isa couldn’t agree more, but she just remained silent.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, “we’ll start work on my story tomorrow.”

  “We have a staff of ghostwriters. Can we select one tomorrow?”

  “I want you.”

  The way his tongue tripped over that word, you, made it sound intimate. Special. Of course, he only meant ghostwriting, but the way the evening was going, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

  The castle loomed ahead. Isa felt a frisson of disappointment that they were almost there. In the forced intimacy of the car, she could keep building a relationship with him so that she could get a glimpse into his life.

  “I am flattered, but...”

  “I mean it.” His voice brooked no dissent.

  “I am a publisher,” Isa said carefully. “I don’t assist my clients directly with the task of writing their book.”

  “Well, do you want this book, or not?” he said dryly.

  “Of course, I do.”

  “Then you will interview me. No one else.” He frowned. “Do you not write?”

  “I do.”

  “Perfect then.”

  Isa was so irked she didn’t say anything.

  “You’re angry.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “May I ask why?”

  “Because you are being bossy. This is my company. I always hire ghostwriters unless an author has a proven track record.”

  “I’ve painted before.”

  “That doesn’t mean you can write.”

  “I have no interest in writing my book, in fact.”

  “See?” she said, “eagerly seizing upon his reluctance. “I can probably have a native Spaniard who writes fluent English here as early as...”

  “No.”

  Isa frowned. He was being so difficult.

  “Call me as I am,” he said.

  She took a deep breath. “Very well.”

  “Is it beneath you,” he said, “this ghostwriting?”

  Isa looked out the window, the words forming in her head. “I don’t know how to say this, but I suppose I just will.”

  “Oh?”

  “What is it?”

  “I normally like to put some distance between me and the subject of a book. Or else my judgment could get clouded by familiarity.”

  “You mean you might fall in love with your subject?”

  She stared at his profile. The car had just entered the estate. She could just let the conversation have a natural demise by stretching out her answers until they came to a stop. But she was no inexperienced girl. She could be frank with him and there wouldn’t be any games.

  “That has happened before, yes. Usually just a little infatuation. Our ghostwriters know to keep their professional distance.”

  “But you don’t?”

  “I’m perfectly competent,” she shot back.

  His mouth twitched.

  Why, he was baiting her. She bristled. “I don’t care to be the target of your amusement.”

  “Sorry, am I annoying you?”

  “Yes.”

  “I do apologize,” he said without any repentant tone.

  She didn’t say anything.

  “You’re very prickly about your job. You want everyone to think highly of you.”

  Her face grew hot. As much as she wanted to resent him, he was correct. “My job is very important to me.”

  “Your job as a slave driver?”

  “As a publisher.”

  “Ah, yes.”

  The car slowed to a graceful stop.

  “Thank you for the fun evening,” she said stiffly.

  “You don’t sound like you had too much fun.”

  “Except for that last little bit, I did have fun.”

  “Ouch. All right. I appreciate your honesty.”

  Despite herself, she smirked.

  “Isa?”

  She turned to him. His body was already angled her direction. He reached up and cradled her jaw in his hand.

  He was going to kiss her.

  Her breath stilled as he moved to close the gap between them and slid his mouth over hers in a gentle kiss.

  All their previously agreed upon rules flew out of her brain.

  He drew away for a moment and then leaned forward again, capturing her mouth in his. Her body tingled as he deepened the kiss. His hands caressed her hair and face, and her hand snuck between his jacket and his shirt, reveling in his warmth. She strained against her seat belt, trying to get closer, and he released it, sending her like an arrow towards him and his arms. Into another, mind-bending kiss.

  She didn’t need a dessert. This was sweetness and light...and everything bad for her. Sense returned somehow and she put a hand against his chest, pushing away.

  He stared at her, his fingers raking his hair.

  “Is this what it’s going to be?” he said in a tormented voice. “Is this just a game for you?”

  “No,” she said.

  “Because it isn’t for me.” He moved away and opened his door.

  “Alejandro,” she said, even though she didn’t know what she would tell him.

  But he was no longer listening. He got out and slammed the door shut. She thought about just getting out herself, but let him open her door.

  He was careful t
o not touch her.

  She ached to be touched by him. To apologize.

  For what? For being sensible for the two of them?

  Walking ahead of her, he got to the front door and held it open. As she passed him, his musk scent still overwhelmed her senses, although all his warmth had fled. He could have been a stranger, opening the door.

  “Thank you,” she murmured.

  At the foyer, he picked up one of his canes and walked alongside her.

  “The churros will be waiting in the kitchen,” he said formally, as though he was announcing the arrival of a guest, or some dispassionate thing. “Have a good night. I’m turning in.”

  Without waiting for her response, he walked the opposite direction.

  Chapter Nineteen

  That beautiful, wonderful, maddening woman was going to be the death of Alejandro. Dealing with rejection was not his forte.

  Alejandro went into his bedroom and slammed the door shut, the noise echoing for a few seconds. Hollow, like his heart. Hurting, like his eyes. He got a little bottle of eye drops and put some in his eyes. It lessened the fatigue somewhat.

  He sat on his bed and hid his face in his hands.

  He was the one who was being unreasonable. She asked for time, but he kept hurrying her along.

  Maybe because he didn’t want to lose her.

  If she knew his secret...

  He let himself fall back to the bed with a soft thud. If she knew how dark his soul was, she wouldn’t want to be in the same house with him, a castle notwithstanding.

  He was attracted to her, he had admitted as much. But she was right. All her coyness about not working with him was just her excuse to not get too involved emotionally. He ought to take a page from her book.

  His book.

  After the project, she would leave him, having attained her goal.

  That book brought them together and would tear them apart. The thought filled him with a dull ache.

  But he could act with a bit more maturity. He couldn’t just let her enjoy the churros by herself, like some abandoned guest. He got up and made his way to the dining room.

  “Isa?” he said.

  “Yes.” Her voice was uncertain.

  “I apologize for my outburst,” he said.