by K Ayers
“You are certain she has checked out?”
“Sí, Señor Vega. I am sorry.”
Ironically, Azul was a Vega hotel, which was the only reason the clerk had been so helpful.
Alejandro turned and walked out of the hotel and down the street to the small cafe he and Cassidy had visited just yesterday.
Sitting down at the same table, Alejandro ordered a double espresso. It had taken most of the afternoon but Miriam Logan, flustered and apologetic, finally returned his call. He made up some idiotic story about Cassidy leaving her camera at his estate. Which was sort of true. Miriam had given him Cassidy’s phone number and the name of her hotel but couldn’t help further. Cassidy had made her own flight arrangements. The only thing Miriam could be sure of was that Cassidy was expected back at Rice the beginning of the following week.
Alejandro suspected Cassidy had left San Miguel even before he went to her hotel.
Reynaldo, his excellent assistant, had reminded Alejandro earlier this morning that Vega Petrol could not run itself. Senor Vega was needed in Mexico City, especially with the company’s move to Houston. The lease for the building which would serve as Vega Petrol’s headquarters in North America was waiting for Alejandro’s signature. And Alejandro’s father was looking for him.
He looked at the newly added contact on his phone. Cassidy’s name and number gleamed back at him, but he decided against calling her. If she had fled San Miguel before talking to him, he doubted she would answer his call. Instead, he texted Carlos to get ready to drive back to Mexico City. Reynaldo was right. Vega Petrol needed Alejandro’s attention now.
TWELVE
Cassidy slung her backpack over a shoulder and headed out to her car. She grunted a bit at the weight of her laptop and a large book she’d recently purchased on 19th century stone masonry. Fascinating reading as she marched closer to her dissertation.
The day had grown warm and humid. She could already feel the sweat beading on her forehead and upper lip as she walked across parking lot A at Rice University. Trees, many of them a hundred years old, created a green canopy over her head. She would miss being on this beautiful campus. The academic world soothed her, and she knew she would return to it after some practical work experience. Hopefully, for the Houston Historical Society. But first she had to get through her dissertation.
In just a little over three months, Cassidy would finally be Dr. Davidson. One of her professors recently recommended Cassidy for a director’s position at the Houston Historical Society. She hadn’t been the only person interested in those homes at the edge of downtown. After that, there was a house in Galveston that would benefit from her knowledge. A turn of the century mansion that managed to survive the worst of the hurricane that devastated the island in 1900.
Cassidy’s fingers itched to start both projects.
The sound of a conversation floated across the parking lot towards her. A man and a woman, laughing and joking in Spanish, caught her attention. Thoughts of restoration were soon replaced with a memory of warm skin against hers. Black hair that felt like silk beneath her fingertips. A sexy voice referring to her as el professor. How were you supposed to forget someone when the entire universe conspired to remind you?
The flight from San Miguel to Houston had been one of the longest of her life. She told herself that leaving Alex when she did was for the best. Once she got back home, Cassidy had thrown herself into her studies and taken on extra assignments for Miriam. The best way to get over someone, Cassidy told herself, was to stay busy.
It wasn’t working.
The smallest thing would cause a rush of pain. It wasn’t just hearing Spanish spoken but other things as well. A pair of platform heels she’d tried on and promptly wobbled so much the saleswoman next suggested flats. Lunch with Miriam for her birthday at one of Houston’s best Italian restaurants and Miriam ordered Shrimp Arrabbiata, damn it. A good Chilean wine.
Maybe there had been a reason for Marta to be in San Miguel.
Deep down Cassidy wanted Alex to contact her. He could have easily because he knew she worked at Luxe. Last week she’d jumped from her small desk at Luxe Properties when flowers were delivered. The flowers weren’t for her, but for the Luxe receptionist.
That night, Cassidy cried herself to sleep.
Cassidy’s backpack vibrated on her shoulder. Reaching behind her, she pulled out her cell phone, groaning when she saw it was Miriam.
“Cassidy? It’s Miriam. How you doing, sweetie? I need you to handle a listing for me.”
“Hey, Miriam. I’m good. Just finishing class.”
Cassidy had dreaded telling Miriam about her time in San Miguel. She’d left without photos and just a verbal promise that Alex would sign the E document for the lease. The camera was ruined. Miriam would have been justified in firing her, but when Cassidy arrived Miriam greeted her with a smile and a hug. Pictures of the Vega property had already been sent to Miriam via email, along with a detailed write-up and description of the property and San Miguel. It read like a travel brochure. The signed rental agreement was attached to the email.
The email also contained a personal note for Miriam from Luis Vega. Miriam never asked what had happened in San Miguel. Thankfully.
“I’ve got a small job for you.” The snap of Miriam’s chewing gum came through the phone. “You can do it on your way home tonight. I need you to show one of the penthouses in Bayou Place.”
“I’m not a listing agent, Miriam. Why would you have me do that?” Cassidy looked down at the Rice T-shirt and the pair of worn jean shorts she had on. “Besides, I’m not dressed for a showing.” Especially not a showing at Bayou Place. The high rise was one of the newest developments in Houston and very expensive. The type of person who would want to buy or rent the penthouse probably wouldn’t appreciate being met at the door by a Luxe agent dressed in shorts.
“I would do it, but I can’t,” Miriam said.
“Why not?” Cassidy swatted at a mosquito that was busy dive bombing her.
“Believe it or not sweetie, I have a date. I’m meeting for drinks at five and then dinner. Besides, it’s the client’s assistant who is viewing the condo, not the client.”
“Just send Leslie then.” Leslie was the receptionist.
“No can do. Her kid is sick, and she’s already left to pick him up at day care.” Miriam paused. “Please, sweetie? I really like this guy.”
“You actually like someone?” Miriam was notoriously picky.
“Yes. Don’t make me beg.”
Cassidy swatted at another mosquito. “Okay, I’ll do it. But I’m in shorts and a T-shirt.” How long could it possibly take to show some assistant a condo?
“You are the best, Cassidy. I mean it. It should only take an hour, tops.”
“I just have to walk him around?”
“Yeah. Show him the amenities, etcetera. Bayou Place is the last building the client wants to look at but wants to make sure it’s worth his time. The appointment is set for 5:30 and the assistant’s name is Reynaldo Ortega. I’ll text you my code to get in the condo. Let me know what you think of the place too.”
Cassidy laughed. “Will do, Miriam, though I think it’s a bit out of my price range.” She looked at the time on her phone. “I’ll just shoot you a text when I leave.”
“Great. Bye sweetie and good luck.”
What an odd thing for Miriam to say. “You got it.”
Cassidy slid behind the wheel of her Honda Accord and tossed her backpack into the seat next to her. It was 4:30 and rush hour traffic was already snarling the freeway. There wasn’t any time to change or freshen up. With any luck, she’d only be a few minutes late.
THIRTEEN
Cassidy pushed back her sunglasses and brushed a sweaty curl off her cheek. The air conditioning in the Honda wasn’t the best. She really needed to get it fixed. Looking down at her phone, she punched in Miriam’s key code and heard the lock release with a soft click. Cassidy looked down at the notes in her ha
nd. She’d taken a few minutes to look through the building to make sure she had the amenities down, and the layout of the penthouse. It was best to be prepared but being prepared also made her fifteen minutes late.
She shut the door and made her way down the beautifully tiled foyer to the living room. The penthouse was freezing. Someone had turned the AC way down. As she rounded the corner, she stopped. Directly in front of the floor to ceiling windows a man stood admiring the view of Houston. He had his back to her and was wearing jeans and a white linen shirt.
Cassidy would know that ass anywhere. She thought about it often enough.
Alejandro Vega turned around to face her.
The bastard was also barefoot.
“Mr. Vega.” She couldn’t decide to be happy or pissed off. The image of Marta on his lap swam before her eyes. Cassidy went with pissed off.
“Ms. Davidson” he countered. “You’re late. I was told the appointment was at 5:30 sharp.”
“I was told I was meeting Reynaldo Ortega.” She tried not to look at his feet. “There was traffic.”
“Reynaldo is my assistant. He had business elsewhere.” Alex’s eyes sparked her with a blue flame. He didn’t like her tone.
Cassidy didn’t care. If Alex thought he could show up in Houston and seduce her with his blue eyes and bare feet, he was mistaken. She was not about to be his north of the border booty call.
He padded towards her, his bare feet not making a sound against the hardwood floors.
He really did have the most beautiful feet.
“Vega Petrol has chosen Houston as the home of its new headquarters. Since I have done business with Luxe in the past and am familiar with you…” he hesitated as his eyes moved over her, “it made sense to use you again.”
Cassidy prickled at his tone, all businesslike and polite. Formal. As if he hadn’t made love to her for hours. She also didn’t care for the innuendo behind his words. “I didn’t realize you were moving the company to Houston, Mr. Vega.” She replied sounding incredibly professional given the circumstances.
I love you.
Her heart whispered the words before she could stop them. She’d spent the last month or so trying not to think of Alex or miss him. How dare he stand in front of her looking as if he stepped out of a Calvin Klein perfume ad and act like they were business associates.
Cassidy stiffened her spine and clutched her notes tighter. Best to get this over with as soon as possible, then she would go straight home, order a pepperoni pizza and open a bottle of wine. Probably cry herself to sleep.
“Of course, Mr. Vega.” She gestured around the large space. “This is the living room.”
A dark brow lifted at the hostility in her voice. “Very nice.”
Quickly, she spun and headed back down the foyer without waiting for him. “This is the kitchen. Quartz. Viking appliances. Gas.” She rattled off the amenities over her shoulder without looking at him. “I like the kitchen. It’s perfect for making pasta, don’t you think? Do you like pasta, Ms. Davidson?
“I’m on a keto diet. No carbs.” Asshole. Marta probably ate pasta with him every night.
“This is the study.” She flung open a pair of French doors and moved quickly down the hallway. Cassidy pointed to the floor. “There are hardwoods throughout.” She waved her hand at another door. “Half bath.”
“A little small,” he murmured from behind her. “Tell me, Ms. Davidson, do you find it too small? What do you think of the pedestal sink?”
“I believe you have a decorator who can better advise you, Mr. Vega. Perhaps you could ask her.” He was standing so close to her back she could feel the warmth of his body and smell the spicy citrus scent he wore. It was enough to make her mouth water.
This was really unfair.
“Two bedrooms here and here.” Moving rapidly down the hall, she didn’t bother to stop and open either door. “Master.” Cassidy turned and looked up at him. Alex looked tired, there were shadows beneath the dazzling blue eyes. And there seemed to be a few more strands of gray in the dark goatee. Feeling herself soften towards Alex, she summoned up the memory of Marta sitting on his lap.
“That is the entire penthouse, Mr. Vega. Please reach out to Miriam Logan if you have further questions.”
He crossed his arms and shot her a frosty look. Alex looked every inch the wealthy and powerful CEO. “I don’t think we’re finished, Ms. Davidson.”
“There’s nothing else to see, Mr. Vega. If you would like more information on the amenities, I can arrange to have the building supervisor show you.” Cassidy could barely keep her emotions in check while Alex didn’t seem to be affected by her presence at all. And he was determined to be an asshole for some reason.
But he’s barefoot.
“I haven’t seen the master, and I wish you to show it to me.” A dark brow raised in expectation. “I understand there is a fireplace and a spa tub in the bathroom. I would like to see them.”
“Fine.” Damn him. Why was he doing this to her? She opened the door to the master suite.
“After you, Ms. Davidson.”
Cassidy dropped all pretense of professionalism. “Fine.” She walked into the master bedroom ready to tell Alex off and make a dramatic exit but stopped. She put her hand over her heart as she viewed the room before her.
I wanted a grand romantic gesture.
The master suite was far from empty. A huge California king dominated the room, on what looked like a very expensive mahogany and wrought iron frame. A fluffy comforter covered the bed along with an array of pillows. Huge arrangements of roses filled every corner, perfuming the room. A small table sat between two oversized chairs in front of the gas fireplace. On the table was a bottle of wine, the same Chilean Alex had served the night he made her dinner.
“No wonder it’s so cold in here.” Flames danced in the fireplace bathing the room in a cozy glow. “You lit the fireplace.” Her eyes landed on his robe flung casually over one chair. The same robe she’d worn in San Miguel the day they met.
Alex’s lips pressed against the top of her head. “Time for us to talk, querida. Well past time.”
Cassidy stared in disbelief at the room, trying to hold back tears.
San Miguel was real.
He spun her around in his arms and caught a tear with one finger and gave the tiny drop a slight frown. His eyes, bottomless pools of deep blue, searched her face. “Say something, Cassidy.” His voice was rough with emotion. “Do you wish me to leave?”
“Oh Alex,” she whispered as her fingertips ran down the side of his face.
He sighed and closed his eyes. “I miss you, Cassidy Davidson,” he whispered. “Do you miss me, just a little?”
“Yes.” Shit. She was going to bawl like a baby. He’d come for her after all. “You came for me.”
“Well,” his lips brushed against hers, before he moved towards the table. “If you had stayed put in San Miguel as you were supposed to, I would have come for you sooner. I would have explained about Marta, who by the way, means nothing to me.”
“I had an early morning flight. I thought I told you.” He doesn’t love Marta. Cassidy’s heart did a flip.
“You never told me your travel plans because, if you had, I would have insisted you change them.” There was a thread of anger and something else in his words as he poured two generous glasses of the Chilean.
“Marta.” Cassidy hated that her voice cracked a little.
“She knows Luna is my favorite tapas bar in San Miguel. Marta showed up at my house claiming to have left,” he waved the glass of wine around, “something. Marisol told her I met someone.” He stared at her intently. “I’ve fired Marisol, by the way. Disloyalty is unacceptable.” He handed her a glass of the wine. “I did not love Marta. Her love for me was based on the fact that I was a Vega. It was a mutually beneficial relationship until I found her fucking a soccer player.”
“Alex—”
He looked at her as he lifted his glass. “You left a
nd instead of letting me explain you ran back to Houston,” his growled out. “You will not do that again.”
Cassidy looked away, hearing the pain in his words. She’d hurt him. Given all that, she’d allow the arrogance in his voice. Now was not the time.
“Why are you barefoot?”
Alex’s arm shot out to wrap around her waist, pulling her possessively against the hard lines of his body. “You know why. You think my feet are beautiful. I am tempting you with them.”
“You don't need to tempt me.” Cassidy wiped at a tear. “Seeing you with Marta was like a sucker punch to my gut. You could have any woman you want. She’s so beautiful. I thought—.” She molded herself to him, trying to get as close as she possibly could. Pressing a kiss to the exposed skin of his throat.”
“You should have waited. You should have trusted me.”
“She was on your fucking lap, Alex.” Cassidy pressed another kiss to his throat and felt him tremble. “Had the situation been reversed, what would you have thought?”
“We must reach an understanding,” Alex said, his voice husky with emotion.
“What must I understand?” Cassidy buried her face in the cloth of his shirt. She rubbed her forehead against his chest and murmured, “Alejandro.”
Alex cupped her face in his hands, kissing her with a ferociousness that took her breath away. His mouth of hers was hot and possessive, as if she would disappear at any moment. His arms tightened around her.
Cassidy’s knees buckled beneath as the intensity of the kiss deepened into something primal, as if he needed to claim her. He lifted the shirt she wore over her head and flung it to the floor. His lips trailed along the length of her neck even as she felt his fingers tug at the opening of her shorts.
In a matter of minutes, she was naked on the bed and Alex was beside her.
Cassidy was ready when he entered her with one hard thrust, and she cried out. Her hips lifted to meet him, and the length of him sunk deep inside her. He began to move with sure, deep strokes until Cassidy was panting with need. Her hands clutched his ass urging him on.
