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She knew he was mocking her, and almost flinched when their hands brushed. So, now he knew how powerfully he affected her. The knowledge pleased him, she gathered when she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes.
‘Delicious,’ he murmured, holding her stare.
So, the Gypsy King was back. How quickly Alejandro could switch personas. He’d use whichever suited him in the moment, she guessed, which made him extremely dangerous, if only because she found both equally devastating. But this bad boy edged it, and they were alone.
‘Now feed me,’ he said, handing back the mug.
Second contact gave him another chance to see her tense and gasp as their fingers brushed.
‘How do you like your eggs?’ And if I don’t break them over your head, I’ll cook them to your liking, she thought, smiling a pleasant, professional smile.
‘Cooked in the open air,’ he said with a shrug.
‘Don’t joke. It might come to that,’ she said with a glance around the dilapidated kitchen.
‘I’m not joking. Have you written that list yet?’
‘I’ve been busy preparing your meal.’ Lifting the plate, she practically shoved it in his chest. How she didn’t upend it over his gloriously handsome head remained a mystery. His brow quirked. His hard mouth almost smiled. Good. Maybe he’d got the message that she was a professional woman, not a doormat.
Having cleaned his plate, he pushed it away and looked up. ‘Be ready to leave for the flamenco camp in the morning. Not what you expected?’ he asked when she remained silent.
‘Actually, no. I expected you to say thank you.’
Fire flashed in his eyes. ‘We leave at dawn,’ he rapped, standing.
‘And my list?’
‘I’ll read it when I get a chance. But you have to write it first,’ he pointed out.
‘I have it logged in my head.’
‘And what will this new equipment cost me?’
‘Far less than eating out.’
‘You have an answer for everything, señorita.’
‘In my job I need to,’ she said.
As she leaned over to take his plate, they almost collided. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and she had no doubt as to the role she was playing. She gasped out loud when Alejandro caught hold of her arms. ‘You seem determined to tease me, señorita.’
‘I can assure you, it’s entirely unintentional.’ Staring down at his hand on her arm, she waited until he released her.
He did so, but then he drew her back again with a grip that was both gentle and compelling. ‘Put the plate down,’ he said.
Neatly sidestepping, she put it in the sink. Turning, she found him behind her. She was sure he was going to kiss her. And he did. Politely, on both cheeks.
‘Thank you, señorita, for a delicious snack.’
She could have kicked herself for being so naive. What an idiot to think he’d make a move. Alejandro was so much older and more experienced, he was just laughing at her. He knew what she was thinking and what she’d expected, and to think her feelings were an open book was almost more concerning than the prospect of a trip to a remote encampment in the mountains.
‘Be ready at dawn,’ he reminded her as he turned and walked away.
* * *
Back in his suite of rooms, Alejandro lifted his crystal brandy glass in a toast to a most satisfactory skirmish. Sadie’s disappointment when he’d kissed her on the cheek told him everything, but she was gutsy and defiant, and he liked that. He liked Sadie more and more. Guessing she’d still be in the kitchen compiling her list, he lifted the house phone. It took her a while to answer. He guessed she was probably exploring long-forgotten cupboards.
‘Hello?’
She sounded surprised to hear from him. ‘Maybe I was a bit short,’ he conceded on the basis that a strong woman would fight him every inch of the way, and that it would be more pleasurable to extend that fight until it landed them in bed. ‘I just wanted to confirm that you have carte blanche to improve the kitchen—whatever you need will be helicoptered in.’
‘Thank you.’ There was a pause, and then she said, ‘You’ll have my list in the morning. I hope you’ve got a big helicopter, by the way.’
‘Enormous,’ he confirmed, deadpan.
There was an electric silence, and then she asked, ‘Are you mocking me?’
‘Would I?’
‘Oh, yes, I think so. Is that all? Only I have work to do.’
She was dismissing him? With a silent laugh, he bid her goodnight. Some might think him changeable depending on the circumstance, but Sadie’s unique blend of professional confidence and personal insecurity continued to intrigue him. The hunger to know more about her was growing by the hour. Once she was away from her duties in the very different setting of the flamenco camp, it would be interesting to see if she changed too.
* * *
Sadie had never seen a live flamenco show, let alone visited an encampment in the mountains devoted to the art. She didn’t know what to expect and was excited. Alejandro had explained as they set out on horseback that professional artistes came from all over the world to study at the camp so they could hone their craft and pass on the artistry.
The steep mountain track finally opened onto a wider trail that led, in turn, to a surprising plateau that housed what she could only describe as a hidden city in the mountains, where gaily painted caravans had replaced the more traditional snow-white houses in the village. Deep caves were carved into a menacing rock face at one side of this heavily populated carpet of green, while craggy, snow-capped peaks clawed at the sky above them, but what surprised Sadie most of all was how warm it was.
‘The flamenco camp enjoys a microclimate,’ Alejandro explained when she asked the question, ‘which was why it was set up here.’
The hidden city was a bustling place, and their arrival caused a great deal of excitement. The Gypsy King had returned from his travels, Sadie concluded as crowds began to mass along the way. She could see now where Alejandro got his good looks. The dark flashing eyes and glossy black hair of his people were unmistakable. He was one of them, imperious and proud with incredible bone structure. He had the same hawkish stare, chiselled features and stern, authoritative air. A group of men came forward to lead his horse into camp, and they talked in a language she didn’t recognise. Alejandro slipped easily into this new, exotic tongue. A Spanish duke, who was equally
at home in the mountains as in the salons of Madrid, with a gypsy princess mother and an aristocratic father. How could his history be any more fascinating? She almost preferred this rougher, far more dangerous-looking man than the polished Don, who all but ruled in Madrid. The downside was that she felt like a mouse in her jeans and nondescript top. If she’d known there would be such a welcome—she’d still be wearing jeans and a nondescript top. This welcome was for Alejandro, a man who made her senses riot.
Tensing, she held her breath as Alejandro insisted on lifting her down from the horse. In those few seconds, she was aware of everything about him: his heat, his potency, his outrageous good looks and the warm, clean man smell he exuded.
‘Would you like to dance?’ he asked, noticing her staring at the stage.
‘Like this?’ She grimaced as she stared down at her workmanlike clothes.
‘Why not?’ He flashed a look that seared her from the inside out.
‘Better not. I’ll only tread on your toes.’
‘What I meant,’ he explained, ‘was, would you like to take a flamenco class?’
He really was the expert in making her cheeks blaze red. ‘I have two left feet and no sense of rhythm,’ she said, recovering fast.
‘Have you ever put that to the test?’
The expression in Alejandro’s eyes made his simple enquiry sound like the most dangerous suggestion. Her imagination working overtime again, Sadie conceded. ‘Okay,’ she said in the spirit of keeping things cool between them. ‘I’ll have a go.’
‘Would you like some help?’ Alejandro asked with the faintest of smiles.
‘I’m guessing I’m going to need some help,’ she said as her body begged her to let him try.
Yet again, he had wrong-footed her. Calling to one of the attractive sloe-eyed beauties, he asked the woman to help Sadie learn the steps.
The young woman introduced herself. ‘My name is Marissa, Sadie. Please come with me. I think you need an outfit first to put you in the mood.’
