by Price, Sarah
She took a deep breath and raised her eyes to look at him. “With you, Alejandro. My safe and protected place is with you.”
He considered her response, his fingers pressed together and slightly covering his mouth. “Then those are two of the things we can agree on this evening, sí?” he finally said.
“Are there more?” she asked.
Once again, he took his time responding. His eyes never left hers; his silence began to unnerve her. After several seconds, she glanced at a nearby table, worried that people were paying attention to their conversation. No one seemed to notice them. Without people staring at them or taking their photos, Amanda finally felt as if they were a regular couple. She looked back at Alejandro as he drummed his fingers on the white linen tablecloth, still contemplating her. Finally, one eyebrow lifting just slightly in that alluring way of his, Alejandro said, “The media has been insinuating things, Amanda, photos and stories about you and Harvey,” he said without any hesitation or even a blink of his blue eyes. “I need to know if there is any truth to the speculation.”
She gasped, taken aback by his statement. “Alejandro! That’s ridiculous!”
He remained silent as he continued studying her reaction.
“You of all people know the media!” she chastised, her heart beating rapidly at the shock of her husband questioning her loyalty to her marriage vows. “You yourself have been the victim of their fabricated and deceiving stories!”
Alejandro held up his hand for her to calm herself. “All things considered, I’m of the same mindset, Amanda.”
She waited for him to finish saying what was on his mind. All too well she remembered how the bishop had visited the farm, delivering those horrid tabloid stories and photos. As if that had not been humiliating enough, to think that people thought she might have been intimate with Harvey made it even worse! People’s willingness to believe the worst in others made Amanda question the civility left in the world, even among the Amish.
“But it did make me question whether or not your true happiness remains in Lititz. Perhaps with another man,” Alejandro said.
“Oh, Alejandro!” She couldn’t contain herself. Leaning forward, she touched his arm. She could feel his muscles through the soft fabric of his black shirt. “How can you say such a thing?” She lowered her voice. “After last night? In your dressing room? In the hotel?” Forcing herself to remain calm, she managed to smile as she lowered her eyelids. She knew she needed to remain calm. To show her irritation that he could even hint at such a thing would not go over well with Alejandro. “There is no one who could show me happiness like that, Alejandro.”
She felt his muscles twitch under her hand.
“And there are other things to consider,” she continued.
He raised an eyebrow. “¿Sí? What other things?”
She ran her finger along the bottom of her champagne glass. “All of these interviews and meetings . . . well, I have a lot to learn and mayhaps there are ways I can help you.” She pursed her lips and lifted the champagne glass to her mouth, pausing to look at him over the rim of the glass. “But I would need your guidance, Alejandro.”
“Claro.”
What she left unsaid was her thoughts about her lunch meeting. The three women were executives at a major advertising company. They represented companies that made products ranging from cosmetics to technology. Amanda had listened to them talk, understanding only half of what they said, committing to nothing. The one thing she did understand, however, was that the public’s fascination with her and Alejandro’s relationship was transforming into something else—something bigger. She didn’t fully understand what, exactly, but she suspected that it had something to do with Dali’s cryptic comment about publicity saving their marriage.
Regardless of her thoughts about that meeting, the public, or Dali’s comment, Amanda felt confident, at least for the moment, that Alejandro would not send her back to the farm out of fear that he was doing her more harm than good. She wasn’t certain when she had first begun realizing that Alejandro felt the most comfortable when he was in control. Perhaps it was when he left her in Lititz. Or perhaps it went as far back as when she left him in South America. He had lost control, even if only for a few weeks. In order to regain it, he had left. Somewhere between the bishop’s visit and when she found herself in his arms on the sofa of his dressing room, Amanda had realized the importance of ensuring that Alejandro felt secure in his role as head of their family.
In many ways, it was no different from her parents’ relationship. Her father had always had the ultimate authority on the farm. Her mother deferred to Elias in all decisions. However, now that she was older, Amanda realized that her mother often guided her father to make the decisions she felt were the most appropriate. While Amanda now recognized the sacrifices her mother had to make in order to make room for Elias’s authority, the reward had been a long and happy marriage. Amanda would happily make the same sacrifices to obtain that same reward.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she felt Alejandro take her hand and raise it to his lips. The soft pressure of his lips against the back of her hand as his blue eyes stared into hers provoked a shiver throughout her body. He let his lips linger just above her skin, never once removing his eyes from hers.
“I . . .” She could barely speak, the intensity of his gaze distracting her thoughts.
“¿Qué, Princesa?” he breathed.
“I . . . I could just stay like this for the rest of my life,” she gushed in a whisper. Immediately, she felt the awkwardness of her words. Would he understand what she meant? What she felt? “It’s just that . . .” She paused, swallowing, as his gaze never wavered. “Ja, vell . . . having you gaze at me . . . with your eyes looking at me like that . . .” She bit her lower lip and felt a tightness in her chest. Everything inside her felt on fire, as if sparks of energy and life coursed through her veins. “If I could only feel this moment again and again, I would be just fine, Alejandro.”
In one fluid movement, he released her hand so that he could reach out and brush his fingertips across her cheek, trailing them gently down her neck and then her back. He pulled her closer and bent forward to kiss her. It was a tender kiss that lingered longer in her mind than on her lips. When he pulled back, still holding her close to him, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. His fingers pressed into the small of her back, and she felt her back arch, just a little, at his touch.
“Qué rica,” he purred.
She tilted her head and gave him a coy smile. “I hear you say that to your fans, Alejandro,” she quipped. “Tell me how you mean it differently when you say it to me.”
She watched as he caught his breath at her words. His spine stiffened and she felt him struggle to respond. He was uncomfortable, but not in a bad way. She realized, perhaps for the first time, the magnitude of the power she held over him, even if she didn’t fully understand that power. To be truthful, she had only wanted his love. Now, however, she recognized the fact that his love for her truly gave her a power, one that she knew better than to trifle with.
“You are so beautiful, Amanda,” he said at last. “Inside and out. What a rare treasure you are. You give love on so many different levels, while most people only consider one: themselves.” He reached for his drink and took a long, slow sip. “I asked you where your safe and protected home is. You never asked me.”
Amanda gave him an innocent look. “Where is it?”
Alejandro shut his eyes and inhaled, his chest rising as he did so. “With you. Only with you.”
She tried to hide her smile.
A noise escaped his throat. When he opened his eyes, for once, he looked away from her. Scanning the room as he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse and emotional. “When you are not with me, I feel as though the world is ending, that I live second to second. When you are with me, the world disappears and I find that I can finally live again.” His fingers tapped the side of his glass in the rapid-fire motion Amanda k
new meant he was anxious. “I cannot breathe when you are not with me, Amanda. Leaving you in Lancaster was the hardest thing that I’ve ever done . . . perhaps second only to allowing myself to love you.”
“Allowing yourself?” she repeated, uncertain what he meant.
“Sí, Amanda.” He returned his full attention to her. “I have changed since I met you. My life is no longer all about the music. Music has always been my life, the one thing that kept me grounded. Now I have something I just might love more than that: you.” Once again, he lifted his glass, but this time, he did not drink from it. “The question is whether my love for you will keep me grounded or rip my roots from the very ground in which they are planted.”
It was her turn to look away. A young woman at a table nearby caught her eye and Amanda gave a discreet smile, immediately noticing how the woman’s facial expression changed from curiosity to delight.
“I reckon that’s a choice for you to make,” she said nonchalantly to Alejandro. “There is nothing that I would do purposefully to unground you.”
“Of that, I am aware,” he said.
“Mayhaps you need to remember that when you feel as though your roots are being ripped.” She turned her head and faced him. “Mayhaps you need to trust more in your faith, Alejandro. God should come first,” she said. “He will help you stay grounded.”
Their conversation was interrupted when two servers approached their table to set down their plates of food. The waiter returned and assessed the dishes before nodding to the other two servers to be excused. “Everything is as it should be,” he declared. “May I fetch you another drink?”
Alejandro shook his head and waved his hand once over the top of his glass.
“Bon appétit,” the waiter said and backed away from the table, giving them their privacy once again.
For a few minutes, they ate in silence. Amanda wondered if she had offended Alejandro with her comment about God. While he had been raised Catholic and his mother seemed religious, she knew that he was very private about it. He rarely spoke about God or his feelings toward religion. With the exception of his telling her about Saint Barbara when he’d first stayed at the farm, he usually avoided discussions that involved faith and God. He’d even reacted negatively to the influence of the Amish religion on Isadora when he’d joined her at the farm after South America. She wondered if her comment crossed an unspoken line.
“Alejandro? I’m sorry if I spoke out of line.”
He set down his fork and wiped his mouth with the linen napkin. Only when he placed it back on his lap did he speak. “You did not, Amanda.” He leaned back in the booth and studied her for a minute. “You spoke from your heart, and I appreciate that. I keep my religion close to my heart, not my tongue.”
“Why is that?” she asked, genuinely curious. It was a discussion they’d never had before.
“You don’t understand, Amanda,” he said, his voice tinged with a touch of irritation. “My life has not been easy. When I was younger and we struggled just to eat, my mother, she prayed every morning and night. But I didn’t see where God was helping us. Fighting for survival without help from the Church or community . . . it made me wonder where her God was. Why wasn’t he taking care of us?”
“Oh, Alejandro . . .”
He held up his hand, thwarting her rebuttal to his words. “I fought just to stay alive, Amanda. I fought to sing in clubs, fought because I sang in clubs, fought to get ahead, and I still fight to stay ahead. Everything that I did and that I have today? It is because of me, not God. I have learned how to be grounded and focused because of me.”
She caught her breath. “Are you saying you don’t . . .” She couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“Believe in God? No, no, that is not what I’m saying,” Alejandro said quickly. “It has taken a lot for me to keep my faith in God. But today I realize that it was the struggles I faced that made me the man I am today. Whether or not I felt God was there, he did not abandon me.” He paused at the word abandon, and she wondered if he thought of Isadora. “But I do not have faith the struggle is over. If anything, he tested me to see if I could do it, sí? And I do not know if that test is over.” He paused, looking at her. “When you left me in Argentina, I knew that God was testing me once again. When I came back to Lititz for you, I saw you on the farm, so happy and full of life. I thought God was testing me, but I did not have the faith in myself, never mind God. I thought you would be better there. With your family and with your God.”
She shook her head, unable to respond to his confession.
“I saw Isadora and how she thrived under your care and in that environment. That was not something I could provide either of you. I left for your own good, not mine, Amanda.” He took a deep breath and exhaled. “I figured this was just one more obstacle thrown in my path.”
“How could you think such a thing? That we’d be better off with my family?”
He shrugged. “When your life is based on clawing your way to the top, you experience a lot of collateral damage along the way. My broken heart would be just one more thing in a long line of self-destruction. I always told myself to guard it, my heart. You broke through that barrier, and I figured this was the consequence.”
Amanda reached across the table and took his hand in hers. “Please, Alejandro, you must know that God has wonderful plans for you. He would never harm you.”
A small laugh escaped his lips. “Ah, sí, Jeremiah 29:11. I know that verse well.”
“And do you believe it?”
Alejandro tilted his head, watching her with his blue eyes. “I didn’t, but I do now.”
“What changed your mind, Alejandro?”
The corner of his mouth lifted, just a touch of a smile. “When I heard you were in London, Amanda. That is when I realized that his faith in me was stronger than my faith in him. I just need to believe more. Harder.” He raised her hand to his mouth, staring at her over the top of her hand. “And I will, as long as you are by my side, Amanda. You make me want to believe.” He pressed his lips against her skin.
She lowered her eyes to hide the welling up of tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. Too many people were watching them, and she knew that if she cried, whether they were tears of joy or pain, it would make its way to the media. For once, she wanted to enjoy this moment without the world speculating about its meaning. There were some things she wanted to keep to herself. The words Alejandro had just spoken to her and the way he had just made her feel were two of them.
Chapter Nine
Standing in the center of the courtyard, Amanda turned in a slow circle, staring at the amazing buildings that surrounded her. Many of the thick stone walls were covered with moss, especially those on the north side, near the tall corner tower. From her vantage point in the center of the courtyard, she could see the buildings that jutted out from the eastern wall. She had never before seen such beautiful buildings. In fact, she never paid much attention to architecture. In Lancaster, farmhouses were just that: houses. Simple in their design, the focus was on the kitchen, which was always large enough for the family to be together. But the residential buildings of Warwick Castle were designed to impress people through the ostentatious display of wealth. With tall windows and exquisite detail to moldings and pillars and ironwork, the castle’s living quarters were like nothing Amanda had ever imagined.
“It’s magnificent,” she said.
Alejandro put his hand on her waist and guided her toward the Great Hall entrance. “You are finally where you belong, no?”
She glanced at him, confused by his question.
He laughed at her expression. “A princess inside a castle!”
The joy in his voice made her laugh with him. “I hadn’t thought of that,” she said, letting him hold her arm as they walked through an archway and entered the building.
Once inside, Amanda stopped and caught her breath. She took in the brown-and-cream marble floor, the high vaulted ceilings, and the arched do
ors at the far end. Over the doors hung the large horns of an animal and an arch made of long wooden poles, each with a pointed tip at the end.
“What are those?” she whispered to Alejandro.
“Lances,” he answered. “Weapons used in war, Princesa.”
She shuddered at the thought.
Along the walls were displays of armor. As she walked along the cordoned-off section, she studied each piece as if to memorize them. The shiny metal looked hot and heavy to her. She couldn’t imagine people wearing the armor, let alone fighting in it.
“Such a sad thing, war,” she said when she stopped in front of the smallest suit of armor. It was clearly made to fit a child.
Alejandro shrugged. “Without war, there can be no peace.”
“I don’t believe that,” she retorted.
He squeezed her waist, just a little, and smiled. “You are the great optimist, sí?”
She made a face at him.
“Think, Amanda,” he said as they continued walking. “Has there ever been a time when people were not fighting? Even in the Bible there are wars, some of them sanctioned by God, no?” He pointed to some weapons on the wall. “Wherever there is peace, there will always be someone who desires to take it away.”
“Why?”
Again, he shrugged. “They don’t agree with it. They want to be in charge. They believe something different. There are many reasons, Princesa.”
He took her elbow in his hand, guiding her through another doorway. Several people noticed them, a few taking quick photos with their phones. A group of Americans came right up to ask if they might take a photo. Before Alejandro could decline the request, Amanda smiled and stood in the middle of the group, leaving space for Alejandro to join them. She could tell from the stiffness of his smile that he was unhappy at the disruption during their private time.
No sooner had the first group thanked them than another crowd moved closer with the same request. Amanda continued to smile, demonstrating her willingness to pose with the fans even though she knew she’d get an earful later.
