She was the plainest of five sisters, the geek in college who’d re-read The Theory of Plants in her spare time while her friends re-read Twilight. She was not the type to draw attention from men who could pick and choose their prey…Er…women.
Where was her sense of self-preservation? She always pulled her hand back when burned by a hot frying pan.
Aubrey couldn’t pull away from Nino, who was sizzling.
“There’s Layla.” Grandma Dotty slurped her sparkling water. “Maybe her grandpa is single again.” She slid off the stool and nearly fell, grabbing onto Aubrey’s shoulder and yanking her sideways in her seat, away from the magnetic force that was Nino.
“Abuela Dotty! Aubrey!” Layla’s lyrical voice cut through bar chatter and canned music as she rushed in ahead of her entourage. She wore six-inch, sparkly silver sandals and a black halter dress that showed a red carpet amount of cleavage.
If Aubrey had worn that outfit, she’d trip out of those heels and suffer a wardrobe malfunction.
But the former Miss Ecuador had made it to the top ten in the Miss Universe pageant and was now a broadcaster for the largest sports channel in the country. She balanced in her heels better than a football player in deep-turf cleats.
The entourage surrounded them.
Without leaving her bar stool, Aubrey was enveloped in hugs, inundated by introductions, and bombarded by air kisses. She met Layla’s fiancé, Diego, and several other men in the family and wedding party, none of which were Marcos Alfaro, who Layla had mentioned would be in attendance sometime this week.
Did Marcos know Aubrey was here? Was he avoiding her? More likely he was working. The billionaire had many businesses to run.
“I see you’ve met Nino.” Layla’s dark eyes sparkled. She shook her finger at the imposing Latin. “Don’t add her to your long list of ex-girlfriends.” And then Hurricane Layla swirled away, dragging friends and relatives, including Grandma Dotty, in her wake.
Aubrey moved to the edge of her seat. “I should go with them.” She was, after all, a bridesmaid.
“Wait.” Nino’s hand came to rest on her forearm. “Layla will be working the room for another five minutes. And when she’s completed the circuit, she’ll call everyone to dance.”
Aubrey slid back in her seat. “I’m a horrible dancer.” And the dance floor looked like a small afterthought, which brought to mind New York nightclubs where dancing made Aubrey feel like she was a loosely packed sardine.
“So…” Nino walked around her to claim the bar stool Grandma Dotty had vacated. “You are here for the wedding.”
“Yes.” Aubrey felt his gaze upon her, as tangible as a tender caress. She reached for her wine, sipping it this time. It was cool and rich. Cradling the glass in both hands made her feel more settled. Not a surprise. She’d once read a study on the benefits of social props to increase a person’s confidence. “I’m a bridesmaid, a friend of the bride.” An idiot who babbled when a handsome man paid her attention, regardless of what she held in her hand.
She had to keep her head and find Marcos Alfaro. She’d convinced her cousin Tiffany, Bon Bon Chocolate’s CEO, to invest a million dollars to implement her cloning and fermentation program with their cocoa growers around the world. By this time next year, their specialty chocolate would be in the market. No one’s high end chocolate would taste like theirs.
Unless that little weasel Eugene gave Marcos Alfaro the keys to Aubrey’s kingdom.
In which case, she’d be ruined–a disappointment to her family and the laughingstock in the scientific community. Just the thought of failure made her stomach turn.
And that wasn’t the worst scenario to keep her up at night. Without Eugene’s sharp nose, Aubrey couldn’t validate the impact of her program. Her research might be spot on or a field failure, but how would she know without Eugene?
“Bailemos!” Layla cried from across the room.
Let’s dance!
Dance? Aubrey would rather attend a death march.
Layla’s white-haired, handsome grandfather swept Dotty onto the dance floor. Aubrey hoped that meant he was single, and not just being charming. Latin American men were known for being suave with the ladies.
And speaking of suave…
Nino leaned close, his breath warm on her ear. “How did you meet Laylita?”
Aubrey’s hands drifted to the base of the wine glass, anchoring it and herself against Nino’s magnetism. She couldn’t answer his question. Not that she didn’t want to, but she couldn’t hoist anchor and remember. Nino was too big, too warm, too close. Too hot.
She managed to swallow more wine. Layla’s laughter drifted to her, as layered and uplifting as the sauvignon blanc she’d been drinking. And then her history with Layla came rushing back. The argument with her father. The cold ship and the hard bunks. And later, Layla with her optimism and infectious laughter.
“I met Layla when I was eighteen. My father was…Well, let’s just say he wanted me to be his little princess and marry a wealthy New York prince, whereas I knew I wanted to dig in the dirt.” Dad had wanted her to get a liberal arts degree at NYU, to be the sweet and pliable debutante none of her four sisters had been. “I heard that a ship intent upon saving whales in Antarctica needed hands, no experience required.”
Aubrey had no work history, having been the poor little rich girl no one expected anything special of. And much as her sisters, particularly Kitty, the oldest, protected her, Aubrey’s father was a powerful force. Aubrey had doubted she’d be able to control her future if she didn’t do something drastic.
“After my high school graduation, I showed up in New Zealand, boarded the ship, and proceeded to have the biggest panic attack known to man.” There was the cold, for one. She hadn’t boarded a luxury cruise liner. And the fear, for another. The ocean was a vast place and there was no land in sight. There would be no rescue if they hit a Titanic-sized iceberg. “Layla had the misfortune of being my roommate.”
“Ah, you and she became friends immediately.” Nino tipped his wine glass toward Layla. “She has a heart of gold.”
Aubrey sipped more wine.
Contrary to Nino’s expectation, their friendship had a rocky start. Layla had called Aubrey a coward and ordered her to stop crying. She’d threatened to toss her overboard if she didn’t control her anxiety. Layla’s rants, so like Aubrey’s father’s, had worked. She’d mastered her fright enough to go about her duties. Little had Aubrey known that Layla had qualms of her own. It was only days into the voyage that Aubrey had returned to their quarters to find Layla huddled in her bunk, shaking with fear as the ship was tossed on stormy seas. She’d held Layla while the tremors subsided, offering comfort and understanding.
Layla had never received such compassion growing up. Her family was loud and brash, but inside Layla had been more like Aubrey–afraid to rock the boat. She just hid it better. From that day on, they’d had each other’s backs.
Nino stared at the crowd of dancers without seeming to see anyone. “I believe Laylita talked about saving the whales during the Miss Ecuador competition.”
Aubrey nodded. That had been the reason Layla had chosen to sail. She’d been building her resume for a media role. Or a political career. Young Layla hadn’t known which path she’d pursue. She only knew she wanted to conquer the world. She hadn’t realized she’d have to conquer her fears first.
“The captain selected us to be ship cooks,” Aubrey said matter-of-factly. “Not the wisest choice, considering we both came from wealthy families with personal chefs.” She smiled, recalling how they’d learned to cook through trial and error, emphasis on the error. “No one starved, but then again, we had plenty of Nutella and peanut butter onboard.”
Nino’s chuckle was low and intimate. “Mystery as to why you’re familiar with Ecuador’s traditions solved. You came to visit Layla.”
“We’ve stayed close,” Aubrey agreed. “And my family owns–”
“Nino.” A slim, handsome man lea
ned between them and slapped Nino on the back. “I was going to ask you if you wanted to ride on a chiva tonight, pana.” He eyed Aubrey and his grin grew. “But I see you have other plans.”
Aubrey had once ridden on a chiva with Layla. On the open party bus, everyone had been given a red plastic cup with beer and grabbed hold of a pole as it drove around the streets of Quito. Most riders had been dancing. Aubrey had focused on holding on and not spilling on herself.
“Rain check.” Nino gave the man a friendly shove, and then sipped his wine, never taking his black eyes off Aubrey.
It had been a long time since any man had looked at Aubrey with such intensity, but then again, it’d been a long time since she’d been to Latin America.
Regardless, Aubrey’s cheeks heated. “And you? How did you meet Layla?”
“Nothing as dramatic.” Nino raised his glass to someone across the room. “We grew up in the same neighborhood. She threatened to punch my nose once or twice.”
It was Aubrey’s turn to chuckle. “I bet she caught you with another girl.”
Nino’s dark brows drew together. “We were never...Laylita is like a sister to me.” His gaze drifted to the dance floor, where Layla danced with Grandma Dotty.
Layla’s beauty pageant talent had been dancing. She had moves.
Grandma Dotty had also been a beauty queen, albeit fifty or so years ago. Her talent had been juggling oranges. On the dance floor, Dotty had no rhythm, no moves, and no awareness that she had two left feet.
Sometimes Aubrey wished she was as oblivious to what others thought of her.
“Come. You should dance.” Nino dropped bills on the counter and stood. With two hands on her waist, he plucked Aubrey from the bar stool and set her gently on her feet. And then he took her hand and led her through the crowd to the dance floor.
Aubrey pivoted in her conservatively high heels, heading for the nearest escape route. Her dance skills were on par with Grandma Dotty’s.
Miraculously, she managed to tug Nino out to the veranda, where it was only slightly less crowded but significantly warmer. Fluted, dark purple Bomarea flowers clustered from trellises along the outer walls, blanketing the veranda with its pleasant perfume.
“What are you doing?” Nino asked.
Panicking. “Smelling the flowers.” She didn’t want to look a fool in front of this man. “The exact scent eludes me.” That, at least, was honest. Her sense of smell was sadly lacking.
“Bomarea smells spicy. Nothing like the more sophisticated rose.” Nino quirked a brow. “Tell me. What are you really doing?”
Her cheeks heated once more. “I’m a menace on the dance floor. I don’t dance. Ever.” Contrary to her words, her hands danced nervously between them. “It started in the eighth grade when I tried to bust a move. I ended up falling and breaking my wrist. And it only got worse. At my senior prom, I skidded on my heel and flashed my satin panties to Principal Davis.” Now not only her cheeks felt warm. Now her ears were burning, and she was certain there was an unattractive flush spreading across her chest.
Nino moved closer, tilting his head to better hear her confession over the music and conversation around them.
She couldn’t look at him. Nor could she stop babbling about what a bad dancer person she was. “As a debutante, I tried to lead and tripped my dance partner. Everyone in our line went down like dominoes.” She tossed her hands. “I’m afraid if I dance, someone will get hurt. It’s better all-around if I stay out here. Feel free to dance with my grandmother.” She made the mistake of looking up into Nino’s dark eyes, where the pull of attraction was at its zenith. “I didn’t mean to drag you away from the celebration. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not sorry,” he said gruffly. He bent his head and kissed her, gathering Aubrey closer than two strangers had a right to be.
The music faded. The layers of conversation faded. The heat of embarrassment faded. There was only this tall, dark, virile man who was feeling less like a stranger every minute.
His hold on her loosened, just enough so they could gaze into each other’s eyes.
“You don’t love him,” her sister Kitty’s voice filled the blank space between her ears. “Not really. Not the way you should.”
“You don’t love me,” Aubrey whispered breathlessly, relieved and disappointed at the same time. That had been some kiss. A kiss worth studying.
Scowling, Nino released her. “That had nothing to do with love.”
Aubrey ran her hands over the waist of her dress when what she wanted to do was run her hands over her heating cheeks and race away. “What I mean is…My sisters and I watch out for each other.” So much so, her older sister was in her head. “We don’t let each other fall for just any guy.” Particularly one she’d met less than thirty minutes ago.
I’m not making sense.
Where were the scientific facts she used to guide her?
“You wait to kiss until you fall in love?” Nino sounded incredulous. “You expect a man to wait to kiss you until he has deep feelings for you?”
And now she sounded as if she’d escaped from the convent on Bon Bon Chocolate’s cocoa plantation.
“No. It’s just…When I said you don’t love me, I meant you could just as easily have been kissing my sister Maggie.” The horror was only getting worse.
“Are you twins?” Nino gave her that delicious brow quirk, the one that made her heart beat faster.
“No. I do have twin sisters, although I’m not a twin.” She should have accepted his invitation to dance. It would have been safer, at least for Aubrey. “I mean, you could just as easily have been kissing any woman in this bar.”
His smile returned, filling his cheeks by increments and filling Aubrey’s chest with confusion. Where had this attraction come from?
“You want to know why I kissed you?”
She nodded, inching closer to the stuccoed wall, away from him, and out of the way of a passing couple carrying frosty drinks. Her back came up against the doorway casing.
Nino followed. He placed his palm next to her head, trapping her between his arm and the tendrils of Bomarea, which smelled like…which smelled like…
She had no idea how to put into words what those flowers smelled like. She had no idea how to behave in a situation with a handsome, confident man intent upon seducing her.
Nino moved closer.
Aubrey didn’t feel trapped. She felt twitchy, ready for another kiss.
Kissing Nino should be on every woman’s bucket list.
That sounded like Grandma Dotty’s voice in her head.
First Kitty and now Grandma Dotty? What was wrong with her?
Aubrey drew a deep, much needed breath. She blamed her fascination with this handsome stranger on jet lag, the heat and humidity, and the dark, mysterious depths of Nino’s eyes.
“I kissed you because you are beautiful.” He paused to let that statement sink in. “I kissed you because I wondered how your lips would feel beneath mine.”
Oh, my.
“And the results were…?” She could have kicked herself for asking. This was no time for the scientist to fill her log with test results. Aubrey wanted one more kiss before their surreal encounter ended. Just one. And then she’d go back to being a pragmatic and boring scientist, Grandma Dotty’s reliable chaperone, the Summer sister men overlooked.
“The results…” he murmured. “…were something like this.” He dipped his head to kiss her again.
The world was drowned out beneath the roaring in her ears, beneath the heat of his touch and the tenderness of his embrace. And she didn’t care. She didn’t care because it was the most thrilling thing that had happened to her since Devon Montgomery kissed her in the eighth grade and left his peppermint chewing gum in her mouth.
All too soon the kiss was over.
“I wanted to kiss you, mi cielo.” Nino stroked Aubrey’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Because I was curious.”
Aubrey had been curious, too, but s
he hadn’t reached out to satisfy that curiosity. Wow. Thank heavens for the brashness of Latin American men.
“Well,” she said awkwardly. “Now you know.”
Now you know?
Was there anyone on the planet lamer than Aubrey?
Doubtful.
They stared at each other.
Night had fallen. The bar had become standing room only. Passing patrons called out his name. Nino seemed to know everyone. And why wouldn’t he? He was the type of man who’d be accepted in any social circle, the type of man who knew everyone.
Maybe he knew her nemesis.
“Nino.” Aubrey stared into dark eyes still languid from their kiss. “Do you know a man named Marcos Alfaro?”
*
Nino stepped back with a jolt. “Why do you want to know about Marcos Alfaro?”
“I want to meet him.”
The way Aubrey asked to meet another man made Nino feel as if this was a business function and she was networking. As if they weren’t in a bar and she hadn’t just been kissing him. As if Nino’s kisses didn’t matter. As if he didn’t matter.
And why would he? To Aubrey, he was just Nino, not a billionaire.
The evening heat penetrated his jacket, his shirt, his very core.
Nino hadn’t realized Aubrey–conservative, understated, determined Aubrey–was a fortune hunter. He’d been fooled by her innocent abuela, her innocent stories, her innocent kisses.
“You have heard Alfaro is wealthy and single.” He did a bad job of veiling his accusation about her character as a gold-digger.
“I don’t care about his money or his marital status.” Aubrey’s voice hardened. She stood taller, doing a good job of challenging his assumptions about her. “Marcos took something that belongs to me.”
Nino couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “He stole from you?” What madness was this?
“In a sense, yes.” Her gaze searched the bar over his shoulder. “Is he here tonight?”
Nino didn’t like the pulse-pounding surge of jealousy caused by her gaze lingering on other men. “Marcos Alfaro is many things, but he is not a thief. He can buy whatever he wants.” In fact, Nino vowed then and there to buy his grandmother a sports car for her birthday. Then no one could say he had to steal anything.
And Then He Kissed Me Page 2
