by Price, Sarah
She looked up at him as she slid her hands under the shirt and gently pushed it back over his shoulders, guiding it down his arms and letting it fall to the floor. Her fingers ran up his arms, gently pausing to trace the outline of a tattoo on his upper arm. She leaned forward and brushed her lips against it before she looked up at him.
“See?” she asked in a soft voice. “How useful I can be . . .”
He made a noise deep in his throat and grabbed her wrist with an intensity that she hadn’t expected but that she did not find unpleasant. “Show me, Amanda,” he purred as he guided her toward the sofa in the back of the dressing room. He lowered her onto it and hovered just above her. “Show me just how useful you will be.”
Despite the unanswered knocks at the door, they both knew this was one concert that would be starting late. For once, neither of them cared.
Chapter Seven
The vibration of her cell phone woke her well before she was ready to abandon her sleep. She sat up and rubbed at her eyes before reaching for the phone on the nightstand. She silenced it with one quick touch of her finger and held the device to her ear. “Ja?”
“Amanda! You need to get up!”
She blinked and tried to focus on the digital clock on the dresser across from the bed. Six o’clock. “It’s six!” she said to Charlotte in a sleepy voice.
“And your driver is coming to fetch you in thirty minutes. Chop-chop, my dear.”
“Chop-chop?”
Charlotte laughed as if it were the middle of the day. “Hurry up. I’ll meet you at the studio.”
Studio? Amanda hung up the phone. She glanced over at Alejandro, who slept undisturbed by the short conversation. The white sheet hung over his bare arm, covering his waist but not his chest. Fighting the urge to curl up next to him and wrap her arms around his warm body was too much, so she succumbed to it. When her hands touched his flesh, she felt him shift and reach for her arm, holding it tightly against his body.
She pressed her cheek against his shoulder and, shutting her eyes, inhaled the musky scent that belonged to her husband. She felt a flutter in her stomach as she remembered the events of the previous night, from their lovemaking in the dressing room to the concert where she watched Alejandro perform for the thousands of adoring fans to the way he’d left the stage and walked directly to her, ignoring the onslaught of people wanting to take photos with him or celebrate his first night in London.
Even Enrique.
She shuddered when she remembered Enrique’s reaction to seeing her backstage. He must have spied her standing in the wings, watching Alejandro singing and dancing, the glow of love still on her face. She hadn’t known that he was watching her until he sidled up behind her and ran his finger along the nape of her neck.
When she jumped at his touch and spun around, Enrique had laughed. “¡Ay, qué linda!” he had said. She knew enough Spanish to know Alejandro would not appreciate such a comment—and spoken in such a way—to his wife. “Why am I not surprised?”
Amanda stiffened her back and responded with a short, “I don’t know. Why aren’t you surprised, Enrique?”
She had never been a fan of Enrique, especially after that week in Argentina. He brought out the worst in Alejandro and didn’t seem to care that she was bothered by his harmful influence. Instead, he seemed to enjoy it.
He had merely chuckled at her retort and started singing something in Spanish, his eyes on her as he meandered away toward a group of English women with special badges hanging around their necks, standing behind a barrier waiting to meet him.
She had quickly forgotten about Enrique as she returned her attention to Viper, watching him dance and sing for the audience. The way he moved, each step so carefully choreographed and practiced that it became a natural extension of him, fascinated her. After all of her practice sessions with Stedman in Miami, and then dancing alongside Alejandro at some of the tour dates in South America, she still could not believe how beautifully Alejandro moved in time with the music.
And then the show was over. He performed his encore, bowing once to the crowd before the lights went black and two white pyrotechnics exploded. When the lights went back on, Viper was gone from the stage.
Amanda had waited for him, and when he appeared from behind the set, he wiped at his face and neck with a clean white towel. Handing it to a young girl standing nearby, Alejandro shrugged off anyone waiting to speak to him. Instead, he directed his attention to her and only her.
“Ven, Princesa,” he had said as he took her hand. “We have much to discuss, no?”
She accepted his hand but shook her head. “We have nothing to discuss tonight,” she said in a soft voice, her eyes never leaving his. “But we have much to do.”
She had heard that noise once again, a primal sound from deep within his throat. He waved away anyone who came near as he pulled her toward him, not caring if people saw him kiss her. “Then let’s get started,” he whispered as he kissed her neck once again.
Now, six hours later, only three during which she’d slept, Amanda felt the warmth of his bare skin against hers and wished that she could stay there, awake but holding on to him. Just to feel him near her, to listen to his breathing, to know that he was by her side. That was all that she wanted. But she had made a promise to Dali: everything and anything. With Charlotte assigned to see that promise through, Amanda knew she could not disappoint Dali again.
She started to pull away, but his hold on her tightened.
“Umm . . . ,” he groaned, rolling over to pull her close to him. “Tell me it’s early and we have time to sleep, Amanda.”
“It’s early, Alejandro, and you have time to sleep,” she said, placing a soft kiss on his chest. She ran a finger along one of his tattoos, tracing the outline. He reached for her hand and tried to hold her tight, something that she knew would end in a battle of time: her desire to stay with him versus her commitment to whatever Dali had scheduled for her. “Oh, Alejandro,” she said. “I can’t. I have to go.”
“Go?” He brought her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her fingertips. “¿A dónde vas, mi amor? You are in London and you are with me. You have nothing to go to.”
Amanda smiled to herself, her fingers tingling from his kisses. “Dali seems to think otherwise, Alejandro.”
“Dali?” He frowned and, after releasing her hand, raised his arm to his forehead. “What has Dali done now?”
Amanda stroked his arm and leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his lips before she slid out from underneath the sheets and stood beside the bed. She stretched her arms and, once again, rubbed her eyes. “I don’t rightly know, Alejandro,” she admitted. “But she helped me get here, so I promised I would do what she asked. Anything and everything.”
He laughed and watched her as she strolled toward the bathroom for a quick shower. “¿Sí? Dali made you promise that?”
She flicked on the lights in the bathroom, still amazed at the grandeur that greeted her. Marble floors and walls with chic round sinks and stainless steel faucets. The large glass shower had lights that ran along the molding and created a subtle ambiance. “Ja, she wasn’t very happy with me, I fear.” She leaned into the shower to turn on the water. Within seconds, steam clouded the mirrors.
By the time she stepped into the shower, she was hardly surprised to see Alejandro leaning against the open glass door and watching her.
“You blush, Princesa?” he asked, chuckling as she tried to cover her body. He leaned his head against the wall, his eyes never leaving hers. “After last night, you should have nothing left to blush about.”
“Alejandro!”
He laughed as she threw a wet washcloth at him. “Take your shower, and I’ll see about getting you some coffee. A little caffeine might help you through Dali’s schedule of revenge.”
The heat of the water revived her and, despite the three hours of sleep, she told herself that she could get through this day. If nothing else, the memory of being back i
n Alejandro’s arms would be enough to keep the adrenaline coursing through her body. She’d attend to Dali’s schedule, and then make her way to the arena in time for Alejandro’s sound check and preshow meetings. Tomorrow was Sunday and certainly Dali had nothing scheduled for her then. She could sleep in and relax with Alejandro, perhaps even take in some of the sights in London before his evening concert.
He brought her a white mug of coffee as she dried her hair with a plush towel. “The elixir of life,” he said and winked at her.
“Is that how you do it?” she asked, accepting the mug. She held it in both of her hands as she lifted it to her lips. “Umm, that’s nice and strong.”
“Coffee helps,” he said. “I think it’s mostly mind over matter, Amanda. You just decide that you are going to get through the day. Just live life large, Princesa.”
She looked at him over the rim of the coffee mug. “Live life large?”
He shrugged. “That’s the best you get from me at six o’clock in the morning.”
She started to laugh, and he reached out for the fold of her robe. She set down the coffee mug in time so that it didn’t spill. He wrapped his arms around her, one hand pushing her long, wet hair away from her face.
“You are so beautiful, Amanda,” he said, his voice hoarse. “I most certainly forgot how much your beauty captivates me.” He shut his eyes for a second and gave a soft groan. “Ay, Amanda, the one thing that will drive me through this day is knowing it will end here in this hotel suite with you in that bed. Mine. Just mine.”
She lowered her eyes, worried that he would tease her again about the color that flooded her cheeks.
But he didn’t. Instead, he placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head so that she had no choice but to meet his gaze. “And after tonight, Amanda, we still must talk, sí? There is much to discuss about our future.”
“Future?” She nearly choked on the word. A wave of panic washed over her. “This is our future. Here. Now.” She paused and gave him a look of determination. “Together.”
He gave her a casual shrug. “Sí, that is what I would like to believe, Amanda. But we must consider the reality of life, not just the illusions of love.”
She backed away from him. “The reality of life? Alejandro, what are you saying?”
“Later, Amanda.”
He started to turn away, but she couldn’t leave such a statement dangling between them. She reached out for his arm and stopped him. “Alejandro,” she said in a firm voice. “Not later. Now.”
He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her hand on his arm and then into her face. “Ay, chiquita,” he said. “This is something new, sí? Defiance and willfulness. It was charming last night.” He slid his arm from her grasp. “Today, I’m not so sure.”
Amanda set her mouth in a firm line. “I’m not trying to be defiant or willful, Alejandro.”
“You are not convincing me of that.”
She almost rolled her eyes but stopped herself. The truth was that his words had startled her, and she knew that she could not survive the day with panic dwelling in the core of her heart. She needed to eliminate any doubt in his mind about their future and her resolve to stay by his side. After the initial greeting he’d given her the previous night, she could only suspect that he was building a wall to protect not just himself but also her. She was determined to break down that wall even if she had to do it one stone at a time.
“Are you telling me that you do not love me, Alejandro?”
“I would never say something that is so absolutely untrue.”
“Then what are you saying? That you do not want to be with me?”
He reached for her coffee mug. “Another untruth,” he said as he drank the coffee.
“Then why would you push me away?”
“Ay, Amanda!” He rubbed his forehead. She sensed his frustration, and while she wished she could quell it, she knew that she couldn’t do it at the expense of their small family.
“Do not push me away,” she said as she moved toward him. “I came here to be with you, Alejandro, because I love you. And you just said you love me, too.” He did not react when she stood before him, her toes brushing against his bare feet. “So the reality of life is not an illusion of love, but it is the power of love.” She stood on her tippy-toes and kissed his shoulder. “And we have that power, Alejandro,” she whispered.
“¡Dios mío!” He pressed his chin against the top of her head as he embraced her, his body relaxing as he gently rubbed her back through the robe she wore. “Why do you have to do that?”
She allowed herself to smile, even though he could not see.
“You’ll be late,” he said at last, releasing her from his arms. “I’m eager to hear what Dali has in store for you today. You can surprise me with the details tonight, sí?”
“Over dinner?” she asked.
He considered her request and then nodded his head slowly. “Sí, Amanda. Over dinner. But after the concert.” He picked up her coffee mug one more time, finishing most of it. “Now get dressed and make your appointments.” When she turned toward the mirror, he stood there for a long moment, watching as she quickly twisted her damp hair into her signature bun. She glanced in the mirror, and when he saw her, he said, “If it is only the power of love that we need, Princesa, that is the one thing we most certainly have.”
After he left the bathroom, she shut her eyes and said a silent prayer of gratitude.
With only a few minutes left to get ready, Amanda could not dwell on their conversation. But his words lingered in her mind. The fact that they were in agreement over how much they loved each other gave Amanda all the hope she needed. Surely her trip to Europe had been part of God’s plan to help the two of them cross the chasm that had appeared so suddenly during the South American tour.
If Amanda had suspected it the previous day, after today, she needed no further proof that Charlotte was a bundle of never-ending energy. She guided Amanda through the day, shuttling her from one appointment to the next. Everything ran smoothly, from the waiting coffee at the first appointment to the chilled bottled of Voss water at the second.
It occurred to Amanda that Charlotte’s connection to Dali ran deeper than she suspected. She wondered how Charlotte had dropped everything so quickly to accommodate Amanda’s last-minute trip to London and how Dali had scheduled so many interviews on such short notice.
“How did Dali make all these appointments so quickly?” she asked Charlotte as they rode from the second appointment, a television interview, to her third appointment, lunch with an advertising company. It was something that Amanda had wondered the previous day but hadn’t thought to ask Charlotte. Now that she felt a little more comfortable with the woman, she did not hesitate.
Charlotte glanced up from her cell phone, a puzzled expression on her face. “You aren’t serious, are you?”
Charlotte’s response surprised Amanda. She had thought her question had been straightforward and simple. “Why, ja, I am serious.”
When Charlotte started laughing, Amanda felt her patience wearing thin.
“I’m sorry,” Charlotte said, stopping herself before Amanda could say anything. “I wouldn’t have believed it!”
“Believed what?”
“Oh, Amanda,” Charlotte said, leaning toward her. “Dali had only to lift the phone to call me, and I had people lining up to meet with you.”
“You made these appointments?” That thought hadn’t crossed her mind. And then it dawned on Amanda that Dali was no longer her personal assistant. She wasn’t being paid to help her—something that she intended to correct as soon as she could. However, there was a new twist to the story. She realized Charlotte was not just a personal guide for her during their short time in London.
“I did indeed.” Charlotte leaned back and dug through her handbag to retrieve some lip gloss. She motioned toward Amanda to do the same. “We’re almost there.”
“Why would you go to so much trouble?”
This time, Charlotte did not laugh. “Amanda, arranging these meetings helps my professional career. My credibility just skyrocketed. Now, the people I’m introducing you to over lunch are different. They’re not interested in interviewing you. They’re interested in hiring you.”
“Hiring me?” The idea seemed farcical to her. “Whatever for?”
Her question was met with silence. Charlotte stared at her, a stunned expression on her face. “You really don’t know, do you?”
“Charlotte!” Amanda’s patience had come to the end. “Please. Explain to me what it is that I am supposed to know!”
“You’re a brand, Amanda. That means you have a voice and that voice is worth money. A lot of money.” Her eyes flashed as she spoke. “That’s what these people want. They want to hire your voice.”
Amanda frowned. “My voice? To do what?”
“Over the past six months,” Charlotte said, with an edge to her voice that indicated her own patience was wearing thin, “you’ve become the one woman that companies want to hire to promote their products, endorse their companies, adorn their magazine covers. You want to know what you’re doing here? This is only the beginning. I have you scheduled for meetings in Paris, Zürich, Bern, even Stockholm.”
Stunned, Amanda blinked and felt the color drain from her cheeks. “I don’t even know where those places are!”
“That’s why I’m with you.”
“You’re traveling with me?”
This time, Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Amanda, I’m your publicist. Who do you think was arranging meetings for you? Those interviews? That was just the tip of the iceberg, my dear. We were testing the waters before we went full swing. Now the fun begins and Amanda Diaz can be heard, not just as the wife of an international pop star but as an individual in her own right and with her own voice. Based on the response from investors and organizations, I wouldn’t be surprised to see you pulling in eight figures over the next fiscal year.” She glanced out the front window and leaned forward to give instructions to the driver. “Over here. This is fine.”
