“It can be,” he admitted.
She had the distinct impression he was holding back, but why?
“Does your father or mother work for any of the companies?”
“No. Once my mother divorced my father, she wanted nothing else to do with our family or our businesses.”
“And your father?”
“He and my grandfather had a falling out a long time ago.”
“Is that why he lives in Spain and not Estoria?”
“Yes,” Andres answered in a clipped voice.
“Oh.” She sensed he didn’t want to talk further.
They fell into a companionable silence and only the night creatures and the occasional distant honk of a car horn could be heard.
Angela stifled a yawn with her hand. “What time is it?” She didn’t want to leave, but they couldn’t stay out there forever.
She eased away from him so he could check his watch. He flicked his wrist and showed her the face of the Cartier timepiece dotted with diamonds.
“Oh crap! It’s late. I have an early flight.” Angela jumped to her feet.
“What time do you leave?” Andres stood more slowly.
“It’s two o’clock in the morning and my flight leaves at eight. And it’s going to be a long day because I have a layover in Spain before traveling on to Georgia.”
At the time she had booked her flight, it had seemed like a good idea to leave the day after the wedding. Now she wished she’d been able to negotiate an extra day with her boss. Not only because she would be tired as hell when she returned to work on Monday, but because she would have had more time with Andres.
She slipped on her shoes as he folded the blanket. This time, she refused to let him carry her and walked carefully down the incline, hanging on to his arm for support on the way back to the Jeep.
The ride back to the palace was silent as they both remained deep in their own thoughts. Regret tightened Angela’s heart as she realized this was the last time she would see Andres.
She gave him a sidelong glance. Part of her wanted to spend the night with him. If only she didn’t have to leave first thing in the morning!
They dropped off the Jeep and made their way by golf cart to the guest wing and took the elevator to the second floor where her room was located.
Angela stood outside the door, loath to say goodbye. “Thank you for showing me a part of Zamibia I wouldn’t have seen otherwise. I had a nice time,” she said quietly.
Andres braced a hand above the door, blocking the light in the hallway and casting a shadow over her smaller form. “I had a wonderful time with you, too.”
She gazed up at him. “Thank you. Good night.”
“Good night.”
Neither of them moved.
“You’re not leaving,” she said.
“You’re not asking me to leave.”
“I should.”
“Why?”
“I have a flight to catch in less than six hours.” She sighed, and her heart ached all over again with the burden of saying goodbye.
Andres looked left and right down the quiet hall. “I have a suggestion. Why don’t you stay up and sleep on the plane? Since my room is far, far away in another wing of the palace, I’ll come in here and keep you company and make sure you don’t fall asleep.”
“Oh, really? How do you plan to keep me awake?”
“I have a few ideas.” His gaze focused on her lips, and then he dipped his head and kissed her.
Angela pushed closer under the grinding force of desire and locked her arms around his neck. They pressed together as he wedged her between his hard body and the door.
He took the key from her hand and opened the door. They stepped inside, mouths still locked together in an all-consuming kiss. Andres backed her up to the bed and lowered her onto the mattress, his fingers tangling in her hair and his body settling over hers.
His wicked tongue stroked a line from the base of her throat up to her chin. She moaned as his moist lips sucked on her sensitive flesh. He whispered huskily to her in Spanish and filled his hands with her breasts, grinding his hips between her spread legs.
As hungry as she was for him, Angela yawned again.
Andres lifted his head. “This is not what usually happens when I’m in a woman’s bedroom.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Don’t stop. I really want to.”
“You’re tired,” he said with a concerned frown.
“No, I want you.” She cupped his face and lifted her head to kiss him, but he dodged her mouth and raised himself higher.
“I have no doubt that you do, but you’re also tired. As much as I want you, you’re not in a position to make love, and I don’t know if my pride could handle if you fell asleep on me in the middle of making love.”
“That would never happen, I’m sure.” As if to prove her wrong, another yawn swelled and released and she covered her mouth, embarrassed and frustrated.
Andres stood and looked down at her. “Nonetheless, I believe it’s better if we stop. There is no rush.”
“I leave in less than six hours,” Angela reminded him, standing, too. She almost reached for him, almost begged him to stay. Only pride kept her silent.
“Why don’t you get some sleep. You have an early flight tomorrow, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to spend the night anyway. No funny business.” A humorous glint entered his eyes.
Angela barely gave herself time to consider his suggestion. “Okay.”
A lamp beside the bed cast a warm glow on the white, downturned sheets sprinkled with rose petals. They moved quietly. Angela removed her shoes and Andres took off his shoes and socks.
They climbed into bed and he pulled the covers over them. Stifling another yawn with the back of her hand, Angela rested her head on his shoulder.
“I don’t think I’ve ever done this before,” she said.
“Me, either,” Andres admitted.
She gazed up him. “So why now? Why are you lying in bed with me like this?”
“Because you make me feel what I’ve never felt before, and now I’m doing what I’ve never done.”
He said the words she hadn’t been able to articulate. She wanted to sleep with him, but lying with him dulled the disappointment and allowed her to savor the time they had left in a different way.
She closed her eyes.
“Good night, Angela,” he said softly. He kissed the top of her head.
“Good night, Andres.”
Angela studied her face in the bathroom mirror. No makeup today. She’d remain au naturale for the journey home.
She didn’t look too bad, considering the long day yesterday and having gotten only four hours of sleep. She’d woken up early this morning, and while Andres slept she packed and changed into jeans and a loose-fitting shirt.
With a heavy heart, she scooped her hair into a ponytail and secured it with an elastic band. She checked the time on her phone and sighed. Twenty-five minutes until goodbye. The ache returned. The longing for something more.
A car would soon arrive to take her to the airport, and she and Andres would have to say their goodbyes. Maybe they could keep in touch? She shook her head at the ridiculous thought. He lived in Estoria and she lived in the United States. There was an entire ocean between them. In terms of long-distance relationships, living on two different continents didn’t bode well for establishing a bond.
Curious about the country, she picked up the phone and entered Estoria in the Google search bar. She perused the details of the small country, scanned the online pictures, and scoured their page on tourism. Summer was when they received the most visitors, but they were known as a tax haven and playground for the rich and famous.
They were considered a rogue principality and had an interesting history. According to legend, a group of landowners and other citizens, tired of the taxes imposed by the Portuguese king, fled to Estoria—an unoccupied island twenty miles offshore. Much to the chagrin of the king, t
hey established their own country on the land mass previously claimed by Portugal, and built a fortress-like palace on a hill from where they could defend it at all cost.
They eventually formed an alliance with Spain and adopted their language and much of their culture. While Estoria had formed additional alliances over the years, they continued to have a special bond with the Spanish, while tensions between them and Portugal continued to this day.
Estoria’s head of state was Prince Felipe Luis Vasquez Alamanzar.
Angela frowned and looked closer at the name. Vasquez? Surely… No. Vasquez was a common name.
Quickly, she typed in the name Andres Vazquez and added Estoria. What she saw made her eyes widen in shock. Andres was not simply some wealthy European from old money. His lineage went back centuries, because he was none other than the grandson of Prince Felipe. He was a goddamn prince!
“Oh my god,” she whispered. Why did he keep such important information from her?
Now she understood why he’d had that conversation in Mbutu with the guard at the garage last night. Since Andres was such good friends with Kofi, the young man was probably familiar with him and he’d asked him not to say anything about who he was.
She rushed from the bathroom and found him sitting on the side of the bed, pulling on his second shoe. When he saw her, he smiled sleepily and ran a hand through his lustrous hair.
“Good morning. How much time do you have?” he asked.
“You’re a prince,” Angela spat.
The sleepy smile left his face. “I was going to tell you.”
“When?” she demanded.
She looked into his eyes. She wanted to articulate her concerns but knew he wouldn’t understand. She’d been here before, dating a man who was famous and well-known. It had been a disaster, and one she didn’t want to relive.
He stood. “I can’t explain, except that I liked that you didn’t know who I was. I wanted to get to know you, and you wanted to get to know me—Andres, not Prince Andres.”
“You were purposely vague.”
“Yes, I was, but for a very good reason. Please, let me…” His brow furrowed. “I want to continue seeing you after we leave here. Let me fly you home on my private plane, and we could spend more time together. All you have to do is say the word. Are you open to the possibilities?”
She didn’t want a relationship. At least, not with someone like him. She’d promised herself a long time ago that she would never date another man in the public eye, and she’d managed to keep that promise all these years. She especially could not imagine being involved with someone like Andres, open to international scrutiny at the level he must endure.
“No, I’m not open to the possibilities. I can’t.”
She marched over to her carry-on luggage, and he came up behind her.
“Angela, I’m sorry. I know I kept my identity a secret from you, but surely you can understand why I did.”
She swung around on him. “And you’ll have to understand why I can’t take this—whatever it is between us—any further.”
“Why not? I want to see you again.”
“I don’t date famous men.”
He shot her a startled glance but quickly recovered. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be a public figure, and I know all too well that’s the life I’d have to be willing to accept if I dated you. No thanks.”
“Then we hide our relationship.”
“And how would we do that?”
“Sometimes I manage to escape my life. I can wear a disguise.”
She shook her head vehemently. “Still not interested.”
“Then what do I need to do to convince you to give us a chance? We had a connection. You can’t deny that.”
Desperation laced his words, and though tempted, she couldn’t succumb to the all-consuming need for a man she barely knew.
“I shouldn’t have spent time with you alone. I shouldn’t have let you spend the night. The truth is…the truth is, I-I’m seeing someone.” That was a lie, but he didn’t have to know that.
His eyes narrowed. “Who is he? Is it serious?”
Angela hoisted her bag from the floor. “That’s none of your business.”
“I’m afraid it is.”
“Why?”
His jaw tightened. “Because I’m going to take you from him.” He spoke with such confidence that at first she was stunned into silence.
“Excuse me?”
His eyes bored into hers—an intense blue gaze that suddenly made her uneasy while her heart raced with unwelcome anticipation.
“Yes,” he said, almost to himself. “I am not giving up. I will take you away from him.”
“No, you won’t.”
A smile filtered across his lips. “Yes, I will.” He dropped a kiss to her cheek and whispered, “Have a safe flight, mi amor. I’ll be counting down the days until I see you again.”
Her racing heart left her breathless. “You’re so sure. What makes you think you’ll see me again?”
His luscious mouth quirked into a deeper smile. “Because I always get what I want, Angela. And I want you.”
5
“Stop lying!”
Laughing hysterically, Angela strode inside the expansive entryway of her workplace after lunch. Plenty of sunlight came in through the atrium ceiling and the windows and glass doors on three sides.
She leaned on the arm of her co-worker and fellow consultant, Livia, a buxom brunette.
“What’s so funny?” asked Carl, the security guard, standing beside the guard desk and looking up from his clipboard. He was an older man, tall and burly, with coarse, curly hair interspersed with gray on his head and chin.
Angela stopped in front of him. “Carl, you don’t want to know. Livia was giving me a rundown of her latest date, and as usual, it was hysterical.”
“Don’t be too hard on those young men, now,” Carl said.
“You need to warn them. It’s tough out here for women,” Livia said.
“Hell, men too. I’m glad I’m already married and don’t have to worry about running the streets anymore.”
“You couldn’t have been as bad as the men out here nowadays,” Livia said, resting her hands on her ample hips.
“Wish I could say that was true, but I was a hellion back in the day. Right woman came along and slowed me down. Just know that you have to kiss a few frogs before you can find your prince.” Carl winked.
At the word prince, Angela’s smile wavered. Andres had reached out a few times since her return to the States, but she hadn’t heard from him in weeks.
After a few more words to Carl, she and Livia made their way upstairs to the tenth floor where they worked for Myers-Gomez Consultants, a financial and management consulting firm that contracted with clients from all over the globe. The firm rented out the bottom six floors and occupied the top six.
“See you later,” Livia called, as they stepped off the elevator and parted ways.
“Later,” Angela called back.
The receptionist came barreling down the hall toward her and she slid out of the way.
“Sorry, babe! I just dropped off something in your office!” he called, hurrying by to catch the ringing phone at his desk.
Angela kept going down the carpeted hallway, waving to associates as she headed to her office. It wasn’t a corner office, but it was one of the largest on the floor, given to her because of her seven years of work with the firm.
She pushed open the door and stopped short. The vibrant room, decorated in yellow, orange, and green, now included dark red because of the roses sitting on her glass desk.
She was used to receiving gifts from clients—concert and ballgame tickets, gold pens, fruit baskets, and once, even jewelry. Clients didn’t mind splurging to show their appreciation for the work she did. Coupled with the quarterly bonuses, the gifts were nice perks that made a hellish, demanding job a little less unbearable.
Among all those gif
ts, she could count on one hand how many times she’d received flowers, and each time they’d been mixed bouquets. No one had ever sent red roses. Yet a glass vase wrapped with a red velvet bow and filled with red roses sat on her L-shaped desk.
She stepped between the two melon-colored guest chairs and lifted the card from the bouquet.
Five.
That’s all it said. Nothing else. Yet she knew without a doubt that Andres sent them. A client would have included their name, and so would anyone she was dating—if she were dating. She’d assumed that he’d given up trying to reach her. Clearly he hadn’t.
After hanging her purse on the coat rack in the corner, she sat down behind her desk and stared at the roses. It had to be Andres, but what did the number mean?
She bit her thumbnail and swiveled in her beige leather chair. What did the number mean?
Angela removed her horn-rimmed glasses as she paced the floor in front of the window in her office, wearing a headset and nodding to the requests she received from the woman at the other end of the line.
She stopped moving. “Not a problem. I’ll have my team prepare two proposals with both scenarios so you’ll have a good understanding of what to expect, and we’ll list the pros and cons of each. Keep in mind, whatever you choose, our people are available to help you every step of the way. We don’t leave you hanging. We provide the follow-up training you’ll need to roll out our recommendations to your staff.”
The woman breathed a sigh of relief. “That sounds perfect. When can I expect the proposals?”
Angela set the glasses on her desk and glanced at her open calendar. “I’ll have everything for by Monday afternoon. You’ll receive an email with the link to a password-protected site for your firm. Once you receive the password, you’ll be able to log in and review the options.”
“Perfect. I’ll let Mr. Clark know. Thank you very much for your assistance.”
“My pleasure.”
Angela tapped the Off button on the headset and sank into her chair.
She put her glasses back on and shook her wireless mouse, ideas already racing through her brain at the options available, when the door to her office was thrown open.
Princess of Estoria (Royal Brides Book 2) Page 3
