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A soft hand fell on her shoulder. “Cheri, it is his culture. Do not read too much into his behavior.”
From across the room Estella met Chloe’s gaze, and her lips curved into a smug smile. Chloe’s blood fired with anger and she snapped her teeth together. Any other employee and Chloe might not have minded so much, but Estella had made it clear that she had her eyes on Andrés.
“Mrs. Montero, would you care to dance?”
Chloe glanced up, unused to her new married name and surprised at the handsome man who had approached her. Andrés had introduced him to her earlier, and if she recalled correctly, Nikkos Kostopoulos was one of the competitors in the hotel business.
“She would love to,” Danielle replied and took Chloe’s plate, urging her forward.
Biting back a groan, Chloe accepted his hand and allowed herself to be escorted onto the dance floor. Nikkos slid his arm around her waist and took the lead in dancing. He was not overtly close, but still, being in anyone’s arms besides Andrés’ sent a rush of discomfort through her.
“I must say,” he murmured in what sounded like a Greek accent. “Europe will be quite shocked to learn Andrés Montero is no longer an eligible bachelor.”
Chloe forced a brief smile. “Will they? Well, I suppose they’ll simply have to use your family for fodder, Mr. Kostopoulos. The women of Europe will never be bored with the Kostopoulos brothers to swoon over.”
Nikkos threw his head back and laughed. “Indeed. I believe Andrés has done well in choosing you as a wife”
Her lips curled in amusement as the song slowed to an end. “Thank you.”
“Ah, there he is. Andrés is now coming for you, Chloe,” Nikkos said softly with a wink. “Though it took him a bit longer than I’d expected.”
Had Nikkos danced with her simply to make Andrés return to her side?
“Mind if I have the next dance with my wife?”
Chloe stiffened at Andrés’s deceptively polite request from behind her, his tone laced with just enough steel to warn of his displeasure.
“Of course,” Nikkos replied with obvious amusement. “Your wife is quite charming.”
She lifted her chin defiantly when Andrés turned her and slid his hand about her waist, pulling her close to his hard form.
Oh God, it was amazing how much she missed him. Missed any kind of intimate contact.
Her body responded immediately to his closeness, her breasts swelling and heat rocketing through her blood.
“Dancing with the enemy, Chloe?” Andrés asked softly, though inside he tried to abate the fiery burn of jealousy.
“Is he your enemy?”
“Well, I would hesitate to call us friends.”
What had Nikkos been thinking, inviting his wife to dance? No, perhaps they were not quite enemies, but nor were they friends. They held a mutual respect for each other and competitiveness in the industry that had made both of them the successes that they were today.
“What did you two talk about?” Andrés asked.
“Does it matter?”
“I don’t suppose it does.” He narrowed his eyes, observing his wife’s petite curves that swayed to the slow song the orchestra played. He tightened his hand around hers; every muscle in his body taut with the need to touch her again. To possess her. It had been too long.
Andrés came to a halt, ignoring the fact that the music was still playing. “We’re leaving.”
“So soon?”
He didn’t reply, just guided her quickly past Danielle, who appeared quite pleased, and toward the entrance to the hotel.
The paparazzi went mad with excitement. Cameras clicked and questions were shouted while they awaited their limo. A moment later, the vehicle slid to a stop in front of them and he ushered her inside.
“You’re a married woman now, Chloe. Perhaps you should stop with the flirtations,” he said once the limo was underway. “Of course, I am aware of your reputation while you were at Diablo’s Paraíso for being overtly friendly with the guests.”
“I did not flirt with Nikkos,” she snapped, her eyes sparking with fury. “And my being overtly friendly was due to that obnoxious rule set by the manager of your resort. If you don’t like your employees flirting with the guests, then take it up with Estella Martinez.”
Andrés narrowed his gaze. “What are you implying?”
“Implying?” She stared at him a moment, then laughed bitterly. “You mean you don’t know? Ask the manager of your resort about that little flirting rule. But be careful how deep you dig. You may not like some of the things you uncover about what’s going on at Diablo’s Paraíso.”
He stared at her a moment, trying to decipher what she’d have to gain by lying. Andrés knew she was jealous that he’d danced with Estella earlier, but this seemed a bit extreme.
Reaching into his tux pocket, he pulled free his cell phone and dialed Pablo. He snapped out a quick request for his assistant to do some investigating into what, if anything improper, was going on at his resort, and then disconnected the call. “I won’t take kindly to false accusations, Chloe—”
“They’re true,” she protested, frustration in her gaze.
He hardened his expression, not wanting to believe something so incredible could have been going on in his hotel without his knowledge. An investigation would soon reveal the accuracy of her statement.
Ten minutes later, they stepped into the penthouse suite, and Chloe made to rush past him.
“Not tonight,” he muttered, capturing her wrist and spinning her around. “I want you.”
Her chin lifted, even as her lower lip trembled. “You haven’t touched me in days. Why now?”
Because not touching her for days had been hell, and he cursed himself for waiting this long to do so. He would have her tonight. Would erase the image of her dancing with his competitor. The image of her in the arms of another man on the beach in Valencia. Dios, he would remind them both who she belonged to.
“Why not now?” He backed her up against the closed door and traced his finger over the emerald nestled just above the tempting swell of her breast.
“You can’t just have me whenever you decide is convenient,” Even though she protested, he could see her hardened nipples through her dress.
“You are my wife,” he mocked, sliding his hand around her back to unfasten her dress. “I can have you whenever I please.”
One slight tug on the slippery fabric had her dress slipping into a green pool of chiffon at her feet.
The air hissed from between his teeth. She wore no bra, just a tiny white pair of panties. The blood in his groin pulsed and desire stabbed through his veins.
He needed her. Now. And he would have her again. Would bury himself deep within the lush body of his wife. He itched for her arms to be around him. To hear her voice crying out his name as he took her.
“Deny me, cariño,” he challenged, leaning down to brush his lips across her in a soft caress. “See if you can.”
Chloe closed her eyes and let out a shuddering breath, wanting to deny him and his arrogance. But she wanted his touch even more so. It had been too long. Everything within her screamed for the return of intimacy between them.
“You know that I can’t,” she whispered, hating that she gave into him despite his horrible behavior.
She wound her arms around his neck and gasped as Andrés’ mouth crushed down to commandeer hers, demanding her complete submission as he deftly removed her panties. She heard the zipper of his pants go down, and a moment later he lifted her, wrapping her legs around his waist. He entered her in one smooth thrust.
Her heart lodged in her throat and pleasure exploded through her body. Her need for him expanded, sinking claws into her soul and refusing to let her deny him or this moment.
Andrés took her against the door, using her with a roughness and urgency that had her body burning and her heart pounding with emotion and passion. The deep, powerful connection that intertwined their lives and souls remained. It brought tears to her eyes, made her heart swell with the intensity of it all.
They both found their pleasure at once, their strangled cries absorbed in a lingering kiss that claimed. Her heart swelled with the emotion.
She loved him. Andrés was the only man who could own her heart and her body this way. And suddenly she didn’t want to hide it anymore. To hell with the consequences if he didn’t want to hear it.
With Andrés still buried against her womb and her nails digging into the jacket of his tuxedo, she stopped biting her tongue to hold back the truth.
“I love you, Andrés.”
He went absolutely still, seemed to not even draw a breath. The seconds ticked by, and still the stunned expression remained on his face.
“You don’t need to pretend anymore, cariño. We left the cameras back at the event.”
