At this point, I don’t even remember.
We’ve been on the road for an hour and a half, on our way back out to Ribera del Duero and to the small church where Javier’s father’s service will be held in conjunction with a full mass.
The last thing I want to do is be in attendance, but somehow, although Raina’s spoken less than six sentences to me since last night, she was able to make me promise I’ll stay.
And like a sucker, I agreed, because as much as I hate to admit it to myself, I’m finding it extremely hard to resist her.
Glancing over, the urge to touch her again is uncontrollable. She’s wearing a black dress for the funeral that inches up every time she shifts in her seat, and the same black thigh-high boots from yesterday. It’s driving me wild, along with the floral perfume she’s spritzed on herself, and the way she’s left her hair down in loose curls.
The combination is lethal, and with every moment that passes, I find fewer reasons to keep my composure.
From where it rests in the center cupholder, my phone vibrates, illuminating an incoming message.
Keeping one hand on the wheel, I reach for it and swipe my thumb across the screen, pulling up Sully’s response to the message I sent him earlier.
Sully
Yeah, no problem, Lu-Lu. I can have the jet out there tonight. Around 11 p.m. your time.
But before I agree to it, I want an explanation as to why you’re even in Spain.
Sully and that ridiculous nickname.I shake my head.
My eyes stay on the road as I respond to him quickly, typing out my message with memory of where each letter is on the touch keyboard.
Business. Tonight is great. Thanks.
Sully’s message appears before I can even put my phone down, then more appear in rapid succession.
Sully
What business?
Wait. Wasn’t Raina just in Spain?
SHE WAS! She went after we all had dinner.
Wait a damn minute.
ARE YOU IN SPAIN WITH RAINA?
I mutter a curse under my breath as I realize Sully’s connecting the dots.
Lu-Lu, is Raina your client?
But you’re a divorce attorney…
IS RAINA MARRIED?!
Christ have fucking mercy. I can’t even formulate a response because he’s texting me so quickly, and I should be more annoyed than I am, but I’m not surprised. Honestly, I thought someone would have figured out I was out of the country long before today.
With one hand gripping the wheel, I reiterate that I’m here on business, thank him for sending the jet, and ask him to message me the details when he has them. I also remind him that client-attorney privilege is a very real thing and he needs to keep his mouth shut with his assumptions.
Tossing my phone back into the cupholder, I lean forward to look above the windshield at the sun that’s just come out. The clouds have parted in one spot, and warm rays shine down from the dreary gray sky.
Acting a little impulsively, I veer off the side of the road and slam on the brakes.
“What are you doing?” Raina asks, startled. She looks at me like I’ve grown three heads as I press the button for the convertible’s top to come down.
