by K Ayers
Ms. Davidson looked so miserable as she contemplated her waterlogged camera. He automatically leaned forwards to comfort her. Or maybe kiss her.
Her lips parted, tempting him.
At the last second, Alejandro decided against kissing her. At least right now. Instead, he pulled himself out of the pool and offered her his hand. He didn’t want to appear as some lecherous playboy. Like his father.
Disappointment clouded her features.
“Let’s get you out of those wet clothes, Miss Davidson.”
FOUR
I’m an idiot.
She had sat on the ledge of the pool; her legs splayed and floating around in the water while she waited for Alejandro Vega to kiss her.
He hadn’t.
God. And her dress was see-through after the fall into the pool.
Cassidy wrapped the robe Marisol had given her around her body and tugged the belt tight. The robe was a decadent piece of clothing even though it was much too big for her. Made of silk and deep blue in color, the garment whispered seductively against her naked body as she moved about the bathroom. Picking up a fluffy towel siting on the vanity, she rubbed her hair dry, then wrapped the towel around her head.
I look like ‘I Dream of Genie.'
She struggled to roll up the sleeves of the robe wondering if the garment belonged to one of Vega’s girlfriends. Not that she had anything else to wear. Vega’s efficient housekeeper had taken Cassidy’s clothes to be dried. Including her underwear.
A knock sounded on the bathroom door.
“Ms. Davidson? Marisol is drying your dress, but it will take time. You cannot mean to hide in my guest bath for the rest of the afternoon.”
Did his voice have to be so sexy?
“We can sit outside and look at the view while you wait. Marisol made lunch.”
Cassidy pressed her forehead against the door. She was naked, wrapped inside a robe, in a client’s home.
A client who I’m incredibly attracted to. Who I wanted to kiss me in the pool.
“Are you that embarrassed, Ms. Davidson, that you won’t come and have a glass of wine and something to eat?”
“I should probably just wait until my clothes are dry, Mr. Vega. I have nothing to wear.”
“I disagree. You are wearing a robe. My robe to be exact.”
He’d had Marisol give her his robe? She looked down at the silk pooling around her feet. That’s why it’s so long. The unexpected intimacy sent a spool of pleasure down her body. She caught a look at herself in the mirror. She was grinning.
“I will wait for you by the pool. Do you like red or white?”
“I’m sorry?”
“Wine, Miss Davidson. You do like wine, don’t you?”
I like wine. I don’t care if it’s red or white as long as I’m drinking it with you and wearing your robe. “Yes. I’m good with whatever you have open.”
That seductive chuckle sounded again. “White it is.”
She heard him walk away, and Cassidy took a deep breath. She looked at herself in the mirror again. Taking off the towel, she ran her fingers through her still damp hair. There was no brush in the bathroom. If she lifted her arm too high, the sleeve of the robe dipped open and you could see the side of her boob.
Wonderful.
The mascara she wore definitely wasn’t waterproof, and she rubbed at the smudges under her eyes. Luckily, she had shaved her legs this morning.
“Cassidy,” she said to her reflection, “you are ill-prepared for this.”
He’s too rich for me. Too perfect. Too full of himself. He’s a client.
I’m wearing his robe.
Cassidy stepped out, clutching the robe around her, and turned towards the back of the house.
A frowning Marisol passed her in the hallway and said something in Spanish.
The housekeeper definitely didn’t like her.
FIVE
Cassidy walked out to the courtyard towards a pair of weathered Adirondack chairs. A small side table held a pair of stemless wine glasses along with a bottle of white wine chilling in an ice bucket. A tray with an assortment of cheese, olives, and crackers beckoned her forward.
A growl sounded from her stomach to remind her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.
A side door opened from the other side of the pool. Alejandro Vega walked out dressed in a black T-shirt and jeans.
The shirt stretched tightly across his shoulders and the muscles of his arms.
Mr. Vega worked out. No surprise there. He was the type of guy who probably sent himself a meeting planner to go to the gym.
“I hope you are okay with tapas. There are empanadas as well. Chicken or pork, I think. Marisol will bring them out when they are ready.” His brow creased. “You aren’t a vegetarian or a vegan, are you?”
Considering pepperoni pizza was a major part of her diet, the answer was definitely no. If he ever ate pizza, it was probably made with truffle sauce and organic tomatoes. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble, Mr. Vega.”
“I didn’t. Marisol did.” He gave her a lopsided smile. A dimple showed up in his cheek.
Cassidy’s heart did a little flip. Alejandro Vega looked very boyish and approachable just now. Not like an uber-wealthy Mexican oil CEO. She sat and carefully adjusted the robe before accepting a glass of wine.
A small noise came from him as he watched her position herself. He was laughing at her.
“I have to apologize again, Mr. Vega. Please let me pay to have your suit properly cleaned. And I’m afraid I must retake photos of the house. I can forward the rental contract to you via email.”
“Ms. Davidson, dry cleaning will not help my suit, I’m afraid. It is a custom-made Armani. I bought it in Italy.”
Cassidy bit her lip.
“And it is of no consequence.” That beautiful smile crossed his face again as he looked at her. “Truly, Ms. Davidson, while you think I’m an arrogant snob—”
“No, Mr. Vega, I don’t.” You are a snob. A gorgeous snob with amazing eyes.
His hand waved elegantly in the air. “You do. I must prove to you that I am not.” Staring down at her toes he said, “Your silly shoes are ruined along with my suit. I wonder how you made it into the house without tripping on the cobblestones in my driveway.”
The light, teasing tone emboldened her. “My shoes aren’t silly. I’m short. I need a little height so that people will notice me. Tall people don't understand what that’s like.” The wine slid down her throat, cool and delicious. It tasted of grapefruit and honey.
The blue of his eyes darkened. “Tell me more about why you want to be a profesor, Cassidy.”
The sound of her name on his lips was so erotic Cassidy, thought she would melt inside her robe. Correction. His robe.
“You don’t really want to hear about my path to an obscure profession, do you?”
“I do.” More wine flowed into her glass. “Eat some cheese.”
“Are you always so bossy?” She picked up a wedge that looked like gouda and slid it into her mouth. The wine was going straight to her head and what little professionalism she had left was rapidly disappearing. The cheese was delicious, and she took another wedge.
“Yes. It is a flaw of mine. Eat an olive.”
Cassidy obediently popped one in her mouth. “Historical architecture will put you to sleep, Mr. Vega.”
“It can’t be worse than looking at a schematic of an oil rig in the Gulf. Try a cracker.”
Cassidy felt all warm and fuzzy, both from the wine and the undivided attention of the man beside her.
He was really interested in her. And outside of a little mild flirtation, he behaved like a perfect gentleman. It was easy to sit with him in the sun and drink wine. Natural, even.
The talk of architecture, history and old homes turned to other things. Her life. Her family. She’d never talked so much on a first date… or whatever this was, exactly. She slipped and called him Alex. That got her another slow grin an
d an additional wedge of cheese.
He did discreetly fish around to see whether she was involved with anyone. And seemed pleased Cassidy wasn’t.
Alex was a good listener and possessed a dry wit. She could understand how that wit, coupled with his intelligence and looks would get him labeled as arrogant. Or cold. Which he wasn’t. Not at all.
Before Cassidy knew it, her hair was dry, and the wine bottle was empty. There was no cheese or olives left. Just one lonely almond remained which Alex popped into his mouth.
Marisol neglected to bring them empanadas.
“I’ve talked your ear off, Mr. Vega. I tend to do that when I’ve had a glass of wine. You don’t seem to be snoring so at least I made historical architecture interesting enough to keep you awake.” She was a little embarrassed at telling him so much. Drinking so much. She’d eaten all the olives.
“Alex. You are wearing my robe, it seems silly to call me Mr. Vega.” His eyes ran down her body, lingering on her mouth. “I like the way it looks on you.”
Warmth crept up Cassidy’s cheeks, and she looked away. Seeing the sun begin to set, she frowned. So much work awaited her at the hotel. “I should be going.”
He placed his glass on the table. “When you frown like that your nose scrunches up.”
“It does?” Cassidy blushed again.
“Are you photographing any other houses, Cassidy?”
“No. You’re the only billionaire I’m seeing in San Miguel.” A hand flew to her mouth. She needed to leave before she got herself into trouble and said something even more stupid. “I mean—what I meant to say was—”
“Bueno.”
“I should get back to my hotel,” she said again, cringing at how stupid she sounded. Would he kiss her?
“A good idea.” He stood and pulled her up out of the chair.
It was? Rats. She had bored him. No kiss then.
Suddenly, Cassidy was pulled against the hard lines of his body. The robe gaped open, much to her horror.
“I like,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear, “the way you wear my robe. I hope you make it a habit. Now close your eyes.”
“Why?” Her skin tingled and flamed where their bodies touched. She could feel the heat of Alex burning through the thin silk of the robe to touch the tips of her breasts.
“Because, querida, I’m going to kiss you.” He breathed against her hair. “Don’t you want me to kiss you, Cassidy?”
He didn’t wait for her to answer, instead, his nose nuzzled the side of her neck. Lips trailed up to press a kiss to the skin below her ear, nibbling at the lobe.
The light, erotic touch sent a shock wave down her shoulders. Her nipples hardened and peaked beneath the robe.
Alex’s mouth lingered over her throat before he pulled at the robe, exposing her collarbone. His mouth, soft and warm pressed her skin. “Have you closed your eyes yet?”
Cassidy sighed wistfully and pushed herself more fully against him.
“Yes. Closed. Scout’s honor.”
His mouth closed over hers, a gentle coaxing kiss that begged her surrender. His hands found their way inside the robe, tracing a pattern against her back and ribs.
Cassidy wrapped her arms around his neck threading her fingers through his hair. She stood on her tiptoes and pulled his head down.
Alex growled. The kiss deepened as he coaxed her lips open. Their tongues touched and twined about each other. His arms wrapped wound around her waist until she could feel the hard length of him pressing into her.
Cassidy’s knees buckled as she arched against him. Kissing Alex was more intoxicating than drinking wine. She could think of nothing but the pressure of his lips and the feel of his body. She lost herself to the kiss and the man who held her.
Abruptly he broke the kiss. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes had gone the color of sapphires.
Cassidy looked at him, feeling as if she’d been struck by lightning or grabbed a live wire.
“Dios mío.”
“Your eyes are so blue,” she said stupidly. Cassidy was in a daze. She’d had no idea, until now, that a kiss really could take your breath away. It was a heady, wonderful feeling.
“My mother was American. Blue eyes.” There was an odd look on Alex’s face. Confusion, maybe. Lifting her palm, he pressed his lips against the pulse beating wildly in her wrist. It was probably the single sexiest thing any man had ever done.
“Stay.” His voice was low and husky.
“I—” Cassidy swallowed and tried to focus her thoughts. Every fiber in her being told Cassidy to shuck off the robe and cling to the man before her. But she couldn’t. “I can’t. I have an online class. For my doctorate,” she sputtered. “Online, tonight. I can’t miss it.”
Alex swore softly in Spanish. “I must do a little work tomorrow but—” His mouth claimed hers for one ferocious minute. “You will have dinner with me after.”
It was more a statement than a question.
“Very bossy.” Cassidy smiled. “Yes.” Then she kissed him again.
SIX
Cassidy’s fingers drummed nervously on the steering wheel as her rental Jeep made its way back up the rough mountain road to the Vega estate. Alex had offered to send a car for her but that didn’t feel right to Cassidy. Years of caution instilled in Cassidy by her mother said the safest course of action was to drive herself tonight. If things went south, Cassidy could leave. Besides, no matter how amazing that kiss had been, Cassidy didn’t know Alex. He could be anybody. Maybe Alex was really the caretaker of the Vega estate and was tricking her for some nefarious reason. The thought was so ridiculous she laughed out loud.
I have to quit watching Dateline.
Cassidy spent most of the day in a state of anxious excitement over seeing Alex tonight. Her online class had been a joke. She’d barely paid attention. After working on her dissertation this morning, she’d spent the day wandering through several colonial homes and visiting the museum. She’d been dying to visit those homes only two days ago, but today she didn’t care about wrought iron and faded plaster. Or dusty blueprints from the 19th century. All she could think about was Alejandro Vega and the way he’d pressed his lips to her wrist.
Curious, she Googled the Vega family. She wanted to know the man who asked her to dinner. And to see if he was married.
Surprisingly, Javier Vega, Alex’s father, had his own Wikipedia page. Alex was the oldest of the five Vega children. Vega senior was basically the Donald Trump of Mexico, minus the bad hair. His empire was massive. Their holdings were comprised of an oil exploration company, broadcast assets, real estate ventures, and hotels worldwide. The Vegas were billionaires many times over and revolved in circles that only the very wealthy were admitted to. Chad and his family could only dream of being as well off as the Vegas.
Alex was not married. Nor had he ever been.
She scrolled through several photos of Alex attending charity functions, Vega division related press events or art openings. The family was known for their philanthropy all over Latin America. At each event a different stunning woman hung from Alex’s arm, smiling brilliantly into the camera.
Alex always looked bored.
There were a couple of photos Cassidy found intriguing. Alex was on a panel filled with engineers and MIT nerds at an OTC Conference in Houston. His face was open. Relaxed. That was the man who fed her tapas and kissed her by the pool. Another photo showed him laughing, a drink in his hand, with his arm around another man. Jason Cooper, CEO of CooperCorp.
‘My mother was American.’
Jason Cooper was his uncle. She couldn’t believe she hadn’t made the connection earlier. Anne Cooper, who graced the society pages in Houston, Dallas and Austin, had been Alex’s mother. Before her death, Anne had been known for her fundraising efforts and the parties she hosted in her River Oaks mansion. Anne Cooper and Javier Vega divorced quietly when Alex was a child. His mother passed away three years ago.
Cassidy turned off her laptop
at that point. Suddenly Googling Alex wasn't such a great idea. Not only did it feel like it was an invasion of privacy but seeing him in that world did nothing but feed Cassidy's insecurities. She could never attend parties like that. Or look like those women he dated.
The Jeep chugged to the top of the drive just as it had yesterday. Cassidy turned off the engine and put on the emergency brake. She sat for a moment, looking at the house. Taking a deep breath, she tried to quiet the butterflies in her stomach.
It was just dinner.
But it wasn’t, and she knew it.
I will probably sleep with him.
I can keep it casual.
I really want to sleep with him. That kiss had been magnificent.
He’s way out of my league.
It’s just dinner, Cassidy. Get it together.
Stepping out of the Jeep, Cassidy smoothed down the short, black dress, something she’d thankfully thrown in her carry-on at the last second. The dress was sleeveless with an A-line shape and was short but not too short. The material belled around her as she walked and made her feel sexy. The dress called for heels, but she’d never been good at walking in those sleek stripper shoes her friends wore. Luckily, she had also packed a pair of low-heeled sandals to wear with the dress. The neon green of her toes added a splash of color to the ensemble.
“Cassidy.” Alex swung open the door to greet her before she could knock.
The nervous, excited feeling that hounded her since leaving yesterday came back full force. Mexican billionaires, especially ones with killer blue eyes, didn’t date doctoral students in historical architecture, she reminded herself. This was just fun. She needed to enjoy it.
“Hello, Alex.”
Her eyes landed on his lips for a moment, remembering the feel of his mouth against hers. A heated blush stole up her cheeks. She didn’t think he noticed.
Taking her hand, Alex lead her down the tiled foyer towards the kitchen. A white linen shirt unbuttoned at the throat billowed around his broad shoulders and he wore loose linen beige pants. Much to her surprise, he was barefoot.
