by Aimee Carson
Suspicion snaked along Alyssa’s stomach. The same sensation she’d had when she talked to Nick at the track. She couldn’t shake the feeling Paulo’s ex-wife was trying to tell her something. Twisting her glass on the table, Alyssa gathered her courage. “I was hoping you could tell me a little about Paulo’s father.”
Bianca looked surprised at the question. After a moment, she picked up her drink and paused, studying her glass with great care. “Ricardo was my godfather. He was a wonderful man and very generous to me.” She took a sip before going on. “But he wasn’t overly affectionate toward his sons. And he was particularly hard on them after they joined the company.” She set her glass carefully on the table and went on. “Most would probably say he was too hard. But I believe he had the best of intentions. Running Domingues International is not for the faint of heart.” Pride crept across her face. “Marcos is very good at what he does.”
After another pause, Bianca reached for a canapé. “Which brings me to a second favor I’d like to ask of you. You seem to have captured Paulo’s attention,” Bianca said. Alyssa’s eyes widened a fraction, and Bianca sent her a deliberate look. “I was hoping you could convince him to come to my party.”
Blinking back her surprise, Alyssa sat back in her chair. Despite Paulo’s insistence that his brother and ex-wife were welcome to each other, she doubted that extended to Paulo attending their anniversary party. “I don’t think he would listen to me,” she said truthfully.
Hors d’oeuvres in her hand, Bianca’s face hardened with determination. “I really want to see Paulo put an end to this ridiculous vendetta. Marcos has suffered enough.”
Marcos has suffered? She watched Bianca daintily nibble on a cracker topped with crab salad. How could the woman say that with a straight face? Because from where Alyssa was sitting—admittedly a position that was starting to feel like complete ignorance—Marcos wasn’t the one who had suffered.
“Did Paulo leave the family business because of you and your husband’s marriage?” Alyssa said.
Bianca coughed and wiped her mouth with a napkin. With a frown, she finally lowered her hand to the table. “Paulo didn’t tell you?” Heat crept up Alyssa’s cheeks, which must have been answer enough. “Of course he didn’t.” Bianca leaned back and crossed her arms. “He hasn’t changed a bit. Even after a year of marriage, I never could get him to share anything with me, either.”
The news was hard to hear, and Alyssa felt like a lead weight was growing in her chest.
The redhead continued. “It was never made public knowledge, but when my godfather died he left the business to Marcos. That was when Paulo left.”
Alyssa stared at Bianca, shocked by the news. Dissed by his own father. What kind of man favored one son over another? And why should she have to learn everything about him off the internet and from his ex-wife?
Bianca seemed oblivious to Alyssa’s shock. “Paulo was so driven to outdo Marcos and prove himself to his dad,” she went on. “I could have been happy, despite his grungy clothes and workaholic ways, if he had simply opened up.” Bianca’s face turned pensive, and profoundly…sad. “But finally I accepted the fact that he could never learn to love me the way I loved him.”
The lead weight in Alyssa’s chest grew heavier. This was not the story she’d come to hear. Nor was it the story the newspapers had told. Fashion snob, maybe, but the cold, calculating woman was nowhere to be found.
“And then my godfather had a stroke—” Bianca’s voice broke a little, and she cleared her throat before she continued. “I was so unhappy, and Paulo was no help.” Her gaze drifted to the turquoise waters, hurt evident in her expression. “Every time I tried to discuss it with him, he’d turn his back on me.”
The words struck with the force of a twenty-foot tidal wave, and the blood slowly seeped from Alyssa’s face, robbing her of the power of speech. She remembered the sight of his back and the feeling it produced. Heart pounding, Alyssa desperately reached for her iced tea. She took a tasteless sip, struggling to get it down, only half listening as Bianca went on.
“But Marcos was wonderfully supportive. And as we dealt with Ricardo’s illness, we grew closer.” Bianca looked at Alyssa again. “Over time, I realized I’d married the wrong brother.”
Alyssa felt ill, the nausea growing with every passing second, and she so didn’t want to throw up here.
“I’m sorry,” Bianca said softly. “I know how frustrating it is to love Paulo and not be able to reach him.”
Alyssa didn’t want to hear anymore. Didn’t want to discuss Paulo with Bianca. She needed to escape. Her hands fumbled as she reached for her purse. “I should be going now. I have an evening appointment,” she said as she stood.
In truth, she had to meet Paulo at Nick’s club.
How ironic.
“I’ll call you after I’ve made the final arrangements with the vendor,” Alyssa said with a tight smile, and then took off across the closely cropped lawn.
She managed to get about five feet before the woman spoke again. “Alyssa?” Bianca said.
Alyssa’s heart dropped. There would be no escape yet. She stopped and slowly turned to face the lady.
“Tessa Harrison told me she contacted a Miami Insider reporter about you,” Bianca said. Alyssa’s heart sank further, settling to her toes like a stone as Bianca continued. “Your past is none of my business, so I haven’t discussed it with anyone.” Compassion filled her face. “But I thought you deserved to know.”
Staring at her blankly, Alyssa managed to mutter her thanks, and then headed off again, her mind reeling from the double dose of bad news.
But the truth about Paulo’s marriage was more disturbing than a vague threat of possible exposure in a tabloid magazine. Dazed, she made her way toward Bianca’s driveway, and then she heard the distant sound of the surf. On impulse, she slipped off her pumps and carried them, cutting through the sea oats on a well-used path.
Feet sinking in the sand, she aimlessly wandered along the beach, lost in thought. The marriage itself hadn’t bothered her. Plenty of people made the commitment, only to have it fall apart. Divorce didn’t ruin a person for relationships forever.
When he’d insisted he didn’t make promises, Alyssa had assumed it was because he was wary of being hurt again. But ratcheting up her torture meter to intolerable levels was the news he’d hurt Bianca first. Repeatedly. Treating his wife the same way he was treating Alyssa now.
With a heavy heart, Alyssa climbed the steps of a boardwalk running along a public beach, her legs tired from trudging through sand. An empty bench nestled under the cool cover of a palm tree was too tempting to pass, and she collapsed onto the seat, gaze fixed on the sunlight glistening off the water. She smelled salt. She felt the warm breeze.
But would she ever feel normal again?
A couple wandered by and settled onto a towel to soak up the sun, making goo-goo eyes at each other. The sight of people in love, enjoying their life, had never bothered her before.
She let out a heavy sigh. Life had been so simple before Paulo coaxed her into an affair. She’d been satisfied with days full of nothing but her business. But now…
A Pandora’s box of discontent had been thrown wide open, and there was no going back.
And it wasn’t as if the thought of strolling along the beach alone was appealing. She wanted Paulo with her. Forever. Alyssa gripped the edge of the wooden seat.
He’d turned his back on Bianca, just as he had her.
She pressed her lids closed. But she couldn’t simply take Bianca’s word about their less than ideal marriage. It wouldn’t be fair. There were two sides to every relationship story, and she needed to know Paulo’s.
And, no matter how much he didn’t want to discuss it, when she met up with him tonight she had every intention of finding out.
“Do you always park the Ducati on the sidewalk entryway?”
At the sound of Alyssa’s voice, Paulo turned from the rail lining the dance floor
of the cavernous club fashioned after an old warehouse. Neon lights pulsed in time with the music. People filled every nook and cranny. But in jeans and a pink blouse, hair pulled back in a matching scarf, Alyssa was more beautiful than every woman in the room. His body went incredibly hard and inexplicably soft, all at the same time.
“The security guys at the door watch her for me,” he finally said.
She lifted a brow dryly. “I hope you at least pay them for babysitting.”
His lips twitched, and she sent him a tiny smile as they stared at each other.
He had done what he’d set out to do, spending the last two days buried in his review of the numbers at the Ocean Inn. Taking a breather. Clearing his head. Now he was just glad to be back, struck with the urgent need to hold her again.
Not wanting to break the spell, he silently took her hand and led her onto the now dimly lit dance floor, pulling her close as a slow song started up. “It’s good to have you back in my arms,” he said. He leaned in to inhale her floral scent.
“I’ve been waiting to talk to you.”
“Talk?” Fingers flexing against her hips, he brought her flush against him, and a dark look flickered in Alyssa’s eyes. Pleased with her reaction, he leaned in for a kiss.
Alyssa stopped him with a hand to his chest. “Look, Romeo,” she said dryly. “You can’t just waltz back into my life and start putting the moves on me.”
He shifted his gaze to her hair and rubbed a silky lock between his fingers, forcing the conversation back to a light tone. “I don’t think I should be compared to Romeo. His plan was flawed. Worse, he fell for a lady who made poor choices, too.” He hiked a brow. “What kind of woman stabs herself through the heart?”
“A woman devastated by the loss of love.” She stared at him, and the pause stretched as the blood grew heavy in his veins. “Because, unlike us, Romeo and Juliet were really involved.”
Paulo frowned at her serious expression. He might not want anything permanent, but he wouldn’t pretend their time together wasn’t special. His movements slowed until their feet were barely shifting on the floor. The sensual slide of thigh on thigh left a smoldering ache in its wake, and his grip on her hip grew tight. “We’ve spent an extraordinary amount of time together for two people who aren’t involved.”
Alyssa’s chin rose stubbornly. “Time together at work doesn’t count,” she said. The pink tinge to her cheeks brought out her gray eyes, and the way she hitched her breath had her lovely chest heaving erotically against him.
Damn if he didn’t want her again.
And he wouldn’t let her dismiss their sizzling chemistry so easily. He lowered his mouth close to hers and arched his body against hers, nearly groaning out loud at the instant agonizing pleasure. “How about when you pushed me against the wall of my living room?” His voice was husky from the memory. “Does that count?”
Shifting from pink to red, her face lost a little of its confidence. “No, the sex doesn’t count either.”
Frustration surged. “The hell it doesn’t,” he growled, and took her lips with his.
One hand securing her neck, he slaked his mouth across hers, while the other hand clutched her buttock, pressing his erection firmly against her. He wanted her to feel his powerful reaction. Because, despite her words, it was a reaction they shared. Her lips went soft, compliant, and the desire expanded until it devoured him.
Alyssa ripped her mouth away. “Stop.” She pushed against him. He stared at her as he fought for breath, his chest heaving, his heart thundering beneath her hand. “You can’t seduce your way out of this conversation,” she said.
Paulo stepped back, raking an aggravated hand through his hair. He wanted to have this talk about as much as he wanted to contract a deadly disease. And certainly not with an audience.
He took her hand. “Let’s take this to the VIP room.”
CHAPTER TEN
AS THEY threaded through the crowd, Alyssa’s body still vibrated from the scorching kiss. It was hopeless. Being in love made her reaction to the man unbearable. But, as painful as it had been to pull away, she couldn’t let him distract her.
Blinded by nerves, she followed along as he led her up a metal staircase along the far wall, across a landing, and into a small room with leather furniture. A massive picture window overlooked the dance floor below.
Paulo rounded the corner bar. “Would you like a cocktail?”
“Club soda, please.”
“Sure you don’t need a splash of something in it?”
Alyssa took a seat and crossed her legs, bracing for the discussion. “Quite sure.”
He poured her a drink. “So what do you want to talk about, Alyssa?”
“Us.” He cocked his head, waiting, and she went on. “You know every gory detail about me, yet I know very little about you.” She’d thought she did. But today had proved just how mistaken she’d been. And it cut to the quick. “I’m not happy with how one-sided our relationship has become.”
He carefully set the bottle of club soda down, a line between his eyebrows as he studied her. “You were on board with my conditions from the start.”
“The conditions that our relationship would be based on work and sex?” She’d been stupid enough to think that would make it easier. Heaven help her, how wrong could she get? “Your plan also allowed for a couple of weeks, at best.”
Frowning, he dropped his hand to his side. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind about the time limit.”
Hope swelled, but she ignored it. She linked her fingers at the end of her knee. “An affair that lasts an eternity can’t replace a relationship that’s deep enough to have an honest discussion.”
As he crossed the floor with her club soda, his tone went firm. “There’s nothing to discuss.” With a guarded expression, he handed her the drink. Heat flashed in his eyes as their fingers brushed.
Skin tingling, her stomach took a free fall in desperate need of a parachute. Good Lord, the man could befuddle her brain with a simple touch. Clutching the glass, she held his gaze. But it was time to get to the meat of the matter. “I picked up a new event today.” Confusion swept across his face, and Alyssa took a sip before going on, regretting it wasn’t stronger. “Bianca hired me.” As his expression slowly fell, her heart rate rose.
Courage, Alyssa. Courage.
“I’m helping with her anniversary plans,” she finished.
With a stunned face, he stared at her, his voice gruff with disbelief. “You’re organizing my brother’s anniversary party?”
She worried her lower lip, alarm sending her heart rate soaring higher. “Not organizing it, no.” She adjusted her scarf with shaky fingers. “I’m helping her with the theme.”
Gaze fixed on hers, he looked at her as if he’d never seen her before. “Is this your way of manipulating me into discussing my family?”
Her heart stumbled and fell, getting bruised in the process. “Manipulating you?” Though shocked, hurt by his words, Alyssa managed to tip her chin in defiance. “No honor among thieves, you mean?” When he kept silent, she went on, despite the painful wound. “This is my way of learning more about you. Because you refuse to be honest enough to tell me.”
A dark look flitted through his eyes before they went cold, glittering. His voice dripped with accusation. “My ex-wife is none of your business.”
Alyssa froze, staggered by the callous words and frigid delivery. She had hoped for an opening for a frank conversation. But there was none. Only an insult and a harsh reminder she had overstepped the boundaries he’d placed on their relationship.
She bit back the bubble of a hysterical laugh, the absurdity of the moment not lost on her. “I guess she’s my business now.”
White lines of anger etched firmly around his mouth, he said, “And I’m sure my brother appreciates the use of your skills on his behalf.” And then, almost as an afterthought, he went on with a scoff, “No doubt Bianca will be pleased with your work, too.”
Marcos.
Just like at the restaurant, his anger was directed mainly at Marcos. So who was he mad at most? Bianca, for walking out on him, or his brother for replacing him? Hearing about Paulo’s behavior during his marriage, watching his reaction now, she knew it was the latter. Heart growing heavy, she finally touched on the worst discovery of all. The thought she’d been avoiding all day. She’d hoped he’d simply buried the pain, because the memory of being hurt by an old love she could fight.
But if Paulo was simply incapable of love…?
And, as much as she hated to, she had to admit all the evidence was pointing in that direction. Which meant the outlook for a future with Paulo was growing dimmer and dimmer. She closed her eyes against the mounting pile of anguish, trying to focus on her original goal.
After swallowing hard, she met his gaze. “I think Bianca would be more pleased if you accepted your father’s money. And ended the feud with your brother,” she added.
The look he shot her was sharp. “Then perhaps she shouldn’t have dumped me for him.”
Her palms grew damp, but she forced herself to remain calm. Because she had to speak her mind. She’d seen the pain on Bianca’s face. It was real. Alyssa knew leaving hadn’t been easy for her. “Bianca isn’t perfect. No one is, as you so prophetically told me yourself. But at least she tried to make the marriage work. Truthfully.” She lifted her chin at his budding expression of disbelief. “I think you drove her away.”
Paulo stepped closer to the couch. The skeptical fury in his eyes as he stared down at her was a force to behold, and his voice was harsh. “And just what the hell would you know about it?”
She blinked back the hurt, because she knew plenty now. The expression on his face as he froze her out had been chilling. And his thunderous look right now was shattering. “Actually, I know quite a lot,” she said unsteadily. And what she’d learned matched Bianca’s account, not his. “We had a very illuminating conversation about you.”
“She used me.”
