“Why didn’t you tell me you were joining the military?” I ask, looking up into his soft, dark eyes. My resolve and anger begin to dissolve.
“First-born males in my family are expected to serve in the military. It is tradition, and it’s considered our duty to the crown. In telling you why I was joining, I would have had to tell you about my family. Also, I did not want to worry you with it. You already had so much on your plate to deal with, moving back here and leaving your life in Spain. I did not want to add to your heartache.” He continues in a whisper, “I’m on a seven-day leave of absence right now. Then I go to Pakistan to serve indefinitely.”
I’m frantic to hear this news, and before I realize it, before I can stop myself, I’m weeping. The idea of Javier going to war, into danger, is too much to bear.
“See, this is why I did not want to tell you, Corazón.” He holds me closer and murmurs into my ear, “The choice of assignment is not mine, but I must go wherever they send me.”
I start to say, “The thought of you being hurt or. . .” but he places a finger to my lips to silence me. “It’s just too much to . . .” Javier leans down and touches his warm, soft lips to mine. I inhale his scent and am overcome with desire for him. I press my lips against his and devour him. The familiar and comforting effect of his taste is overwhelming, and I press closer to him, desperately wanting to envelop myself in him and never let go. I frantically tuck my arms into his open military jacket, feeling his lean, muscular back beneath my hands. When I finally break the kiss, gasping for air, I realize I’m sitting on his lap, and that I’ve torn the buttons off his white shirt.
“Oh my God! I’m so sorry!” I look down at Javier’s bare chest and rippled stomach, exposed by the shirt I’ve ripped open. The tattoo of the heart encircling the Old English E screams back at me. It shouts out the obvious at me: I’m a complete idiot.
“Don’t worry, I have another one.” Javier moves closer to kiss me again, but this time I hold my hands up to his exposed chest to stop him.
“Javier, stop. Please,” I say, turning away from him, and looking out the tinted window. After a few beats, I somehow find the words, “I’m sorry I got carried away. Things have changed.”
“I don’t think so, Amor,” he says, running his finger down my arm. “You’re still wearing the ring I gave you.”
“No, really,” I reply in a stern voice, turning to him. “Five months is a long time, especially when someone thinks they’ve been dumped.”
“Is this about Alexander?” Javier eyes me suspiciously. I look down to avoid his accusatory stare. “Is there something going on between you two?”
“We’ve been dating,” I whisper, and somehow I’m feeling guilty.
“I knew it!” Javier bellows. I shudder. I’ve never seen him so angry before, and it frightens me. “I knew by the way you looked at him that you have feelings for him.”
“I do have feelings for him . . . I love him.” I finally say what I know in my heart I’ve felt for weeks, but have been too afraid to admit to myself or to anyone else. “The last thing I want to do is hurt him.”
“But you’re willing to hurt me, Eva?”
“You made your decision about us, when you decided not to tell me the truth about yourself,” I say, and Javier sighs with frustration. “Regardless of whether you felt that you were trying to protect me, all you really did was hurt me. I’m not ready to run back to you now, as if nothing at all happened. I have a little more self-respect than that.”
“In my mind,” he explains, “we’ve always been together. This is just something I had to do.” He pats himself on the arm where his military stripes are neatly sewn to the jacket. “I can’t help it that you were not able to trust in my love for you.”
“You dare try to put this on me? If you had been honest with me from the start, I would have known why you hadn’t contacted me for over five months, instead of believing I had been dumped by the only man I’d ever loved!” Javier reaches up to wipe a tear from my cheek, but I slap his hand away. “I need time, Javier. I need time to think.”
Just as I finish my assertion, the limo comes to a stop on the street in front of my house. I look outside the darkly tinted window for Dad’s car but it isn’t in the driveway. Thank God! I don’t want to have to explain why I’ve arrived home by limo.
“I understand,” he says.“Once you think about it, I’m sure you’ll realize that I did not mean to hurt you, under any circumstance.” He takes my hand, and his lips lightly caress my fingers. “May I return tonight to see you?”
“No, I’m seeing Xander tonight.” I feel guilty as I watch Javier’s smile fade, but I don’t want to break my promise to Xander. “Don’t talk to him until I do. At least do that for me, please.”
“As you wish, Corazón.” He releases my hand and lifts my chin to look directly into my eyes. “Please promise me you will meet me tomorrow. I need to talk with you about something very important.”
“Fine, what time?” I sigh, because I could never say no—not even now—to those black eyes that seem to peer into my very soul.
“How about one o’clock at my hotel, the Mandarin Oriental? I can send my limo for you.”
“Please don’t. I’ll be there. I can probably get Camilla to drive me into the city. We need to go shopping anyway.”
“Fine.” Javier moves in for a kiss, and I don’t refuse him. I can’t resist the sweet taste of his lips anymore than I can resist a Swiss chocolate bar.
“I’ve got to go,” I say, pulling away from him. I scoop up my messenger bag and open the door. He leans over again and kisses me on the forehead.
“See you tomorrow, Corazón,” he says. I smile wistfully at his nickname for me as I realize I’ve missed hearing it. “I love you.”
“Goodbye, Javier,” I reply and close the door behind me. I just can’t let those three words come out of my mouth right now. I cannot trust my conflicting emotions. I don’t want to say something so serious, when I don’t even know if I truly mean it.
As soon as I walk through the front door, my cell phone begins blaring Systemic Purgatory’s recent hit “Intolerable.” I know instantly that it’s Camilla calling; she’d programmed her favorite song into my phone as her ringtone. She must’ve been watching for the limo to drop me off. I run up the stairs, slam the bedroom door behind me, and answer the phone.
“Yes?” I throw my messenger bag on the floor and plop down on the perfectly made, shabby-chic bed.
“I’m at your front door, let me in.” Camilla hangs up before I can respond. Great.
I fly back down the stairs and fling open the door. There she is wearing no make-up, dressed in all-black yoga clothes, with her dark hair tied up in a messy bun. Of course, she still looks beautiful. Her naturally red-stained lips are pouted out in her usual impatient scowl, a definite indication that she’s less than amused.
“Okay, I want to know everything he said.” She pushes past me and heads up the stairs.
“Umm, come on in,” I sigh, closing the door and following Camilla to my room.
“You have the most ridiculously organized and clean room I think I’ve ever seen.” Camilla looks around the room, awe in her eyes. “You’re a freak, Evie.”
“I can’t help it if I’m not a slob like you,” I say, smiling.
“Okay, spill. I want to know everything.” Camilla sits on the beanbag chair in the middle of the floor. “Where the hell was he for five months?”
“Don’t you think I deserve a little privacy?” I know the answer before even asking the question.
“Don’t go there, Sweeney,” Camilla snaps. “If my best friend weren’t involved, then I’d say yes. But because he could possibly have his heart broken by what happened in that limo, then no, you don’t deserve any privacy.” Camilla snorts delicately. I really don’t like being on the receiving end of her mean-girl act.
“Javier said he’d been on a military survival training exercise in Russia for the last five m
onths in preparation for deployment to Pakistan.” My heart races with the thought that Javi will be going into harm’s way in less than a month. “He was physically unable to contact me. That’s all.”
“Oh really?” Camilla has the same smug look on her face she always uses when trying to be sarcastic. “What about the picture online? How did he explain that shot?”
“He said she’s a childhood friend, and that she went with him as a favor to his mother.”
“Why didn’t he just take you? You were still living there.” Camilla sounds unconvinced.
“He didn’t want to put our relationship out in the public. He wanted to spare me the unwanted attention.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Because of who his family is, he felt that having the public know about me would not be a good idea. He was worried about my privacy.”
“Oh, sure, I totally forgot about that. So, how did he explain that he didn’t let you in on the fact that he’s a member of the freaking Spanish royal family?”
“He basically said he wanted me to get to know him first, before he would tell me about his family.” I shrug. “He said he was tired of girls wanting to date him because of his family. I can’t say that I blame him, really.”
“You believe that, do you?” Camilla’s sarcasm stings.
“Yes, actually, I do. I don’t have any reason not to.” I feel myself becoming more defensive by the second.
“Well, it sounds to me like he didn’t trust that you were mature enough to handle it.”
“Why would he lie?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe he wanted to have all the hot women and keep his beautiful little Eva in waiting?” she replies, mocking Javier’s accent. “Everything you thought you knew about him is a lie.”
“Why are you being so mean?” My voice begins to tremble.
“Because I saw how hurt you were.” Camilla’s face softens for the moment. “And I don’t want to see Xander hurt in the same way.”
“Come on, Camilla. I doubt Xander would lose any sleep over me. He can have any girl he wants.”
“Are you freaking crazy?” she practically shouts. “He’s completely in love with you. Why can’t you see that? Are you seriously that dense?”
I look over to the nightstand at a framed three-by-five photo of Camilla, Christian, Xander, and me taken at fundraising event for the newly elected President Capshaw. We’re standing with our arms around each other, the guys on either end. Camilla, Christian, and I are smiling into the camera. Xander, however, is smiling down at me. I pick up the frame and peer closer at the photo. The enamored look on Xander’s face is one I see often, and in that moment, I know Camilla is right. I am such an idiot!
“What?” Camilla asks, craning her neck, trying to see what I have in my hand. I rise from the bed and hand the frame to her.
“I know you’re right, Camilla,” I sigh, throwing myself down on the soft bed.
“What are you going to do?” She places the frame back on the nightstand.
“Well, tonight I’m going to go to a play and dinner with Xander. Tomorrow, I’m going to meet Javier at the Mandarin Oriental. He has something he wants to talk to me about.”
“Don’t you dare string Xander along,” she warns. Her expression is completely murderous.
“I didn’t say I was going to go back to Javier,” I whisper.
“Does he want you back?”
“Yes, he made that perfectly clear on the ride home.”
“What? How?” Camilla glares at me with a look that would frighten the most hardened criminal.
“Don’t worry, nothing happened,” I assure her. “But I need you to give me a ride to the Mandarin tomorrow; we should go shopping anyway for our youth ball dresses.”
“Oh, so you’re still going to the youth ball with Xander?”she asks, her voice sardonic.
“Yes,” I sigh. Her attitude is bordering on overbearing. “Camilla, I haven’t made any decisions concerning Javier yet. I want to hear everything he has to say.”
“Well, I expect you to let Xander know what’s going on. I don’t want you keeping him in the dark.”
“I promise I will tell him tonight.”
“Well, if you don’t, I will,” Camilla warns. “Why don’t Christian and I just come with you two to—“
“No, I want to spend this evening alone with Xander, thank you!” I interrupt before she can finish her thought.
“Fine.” Camilla stands up to leave. “I’ll pick you up at noon.”
“Great, thanks.”
“I’ll see myself out. Get ready for your date,” Camilla commands, closing the bedroom door behind her.
“Yes, Drill Sergeant,” I reply sarcastically, although Camilla is long gone. Seconds later, I hear the front door slam shut.
CHAPTER 23
Xander knocks on my door at exactly six p.m. I take one last glance in the mirror at my black-silk wrap dress, which makes the auburn shade of my hair seem even more extreme. I’m wearing my mother’s silver and coral necklace that I wore on my last night in Spain with Javier. As I approach the top of the staircase, I hear Nash interrogating Xander in the living room about our plans for tonight. Oh God! I rush down the stairs in my leather stiletto boots, nearly tripping. Although Xander has more than proven himself a trustworthy person over the last few weeks, I don’t think that assumption applies when I’m actually dating him, at least not where my Dad is concerned.
“There she is,” Nash booms when he looks up at me as I descend the stairs. His voice always seems to become five decibels louder when he’s talking with my male friends. Ethan and Emma are sitting on the couch, pretending to watch TV, but I know they’re really just listening to our conversation. Emma has an obvious crush on Xander, and Ethan thinks it’s awesome that he’s all-state in lacrosse. There really isn’t anything too unimpressive about Xander. He’s definitely a guy’s guy, but he still has that subtly vulnerable, sensitive side that drives all girls wild. He’s easy on the eyes, possessing a physique molded from years of playing sports. But it’s the gentle soul behind those entrancing, golden eyes that makes me weak in the knees.
As Xander towers over Nash, I realize quickly how much of a man Xander is, how mature. His ability to look my father directly in the eyes is evidence enough. I have trusted Xander with my emotional shortcomings, and he has not been judgmental. Maybe his emotional maturity comes from having taken care of himself since he moved to the States to live with his grandfather. Although they have a housekeeper, they have essentially lived as bachelors for the last few years.
“Hi there.” Xander smiles up at me and breaks my thoughts. “You look beautiful.”
“You don’t look half bad yourself,” I say. “Are you ready?” I grab my favorite black-leather coat from the hall closet.
“Yeah,” he answers, then steps in the family room and says, “Bye, Emma. Bye, Ethan.”
“Later, dude.” Ethan says, never taking his eyes from the TV. Emma simply turns red and waves at us, a shy smile crossing her lips. I laugh to myself and blow a kiss at her.
“What time will you be home?” Dad asks when I take Xander’s hand and lead him to the front door. Dad’s looking at me with a worried, fatherly expression that makes me feel all guilty inside for absolutely no reason.
“Actually, don’t wait up, Dad,” I say as I open the front door. “We’re going to the Kennedy Center to watch a play and then out to dinner after.”
“Ev—”
“No, I mean it.” I counter Dad’s attempted protest with my own attempt at an authoritative tone and steely eyes. Who am I kidding? I lean over and give him a kiss on the cheek. “I am eighteen now. I’ll be okay, Daddy.” He frowns back, but he doesn’t argue.
“Take care of my baby girl, Xander,” Dad manages to say before I slam the door shut between us.
“Evie, is everything okay?” Xander stops on the porch. His face is pure confusion.
“Yes, come on.” I impatiently pull him dow
n the porch steps. I can’t tell him that I’m a nervous wreck over what I’ve got to tell him tonight. That will be a highly delicate conversation; one not to be had on the steps of my front porch. And especially not while Dad is within ear shot.
On the drive to the theater, I make small talk with Xander, the whole time tormented over how I’ll explain my feelings to him. He hasn’t asked a single question about my relationship with Javier, or about what transpired during the limo drive home earlier today. This reserve speaks volumes to his strength of character.
We sit through the long play, mostly in silence, with the occasional comment about the actors or set design. Not once does Xander try to hold my hand or show any other signs of affection toward me. His distant behavior only augments my anxiety. After we leave the theater, I make the first move. As we’re standing on the sidewalk, waiting for the valet to bring Xander’s Land Rover, I again grab his hand, interlocking my fingers with his. He’s looking toward the parking lot, but as he feels my touch, his gaze turns to me, his eyes probing my face. I give him a reassuring smile.
“I really need to talk with you tonight, Xander.” I try to calm myself, but my heart is pounding and I know my trembling voice is giving away my nervousness.
“Are you okay?” he asks, using his free hand to brush a curl off my cheek. He carefully tucks the loose strand behind my ear, and his eyes move back to mine as he awaits a response. The electricity between us is palpable, and suddenly I’m overwhelmed with the urge to kiss him. Without letting go of his hand, I wrap my arm around his neck, pull myself up to his lips, and kiss him tenderly. Xander wraps his free arm around my waist and pulls me in closer. My mind is lost in the moment. All I can think about is how perfect our lips feel together, how perfect my body feels so close to his. I’m intoxicated by him, and I’m wondering how I could ever go back to a life in which there is no Alexander Bartolomeo.
The Saints of the Cross Page 24
