Page 2 of No Darker Temptation

Jimena spun around. “Don’t be a tease, Leticia. I for one think it’s a great idea. And so do you—you’re just being stubborn about it.”

“I have to make him earn my money, don’t I?” she replied. “Otherwise, he’ll think he can just swoop in with those doe eyes of his and charm us the way he does his wife.”

“I’ll have you know, my wife loves my doe eyes,” he pointed out. “These doe eyes conned their way into marriage and three children with the most beautiful woman on God’s earth. And the same way they got me very lucky last night with the aforementioned wife⁠—”

Jimena stuck out her tongue. “Uck!”

“It’s about to get me what I want here. Which is an investment from my siblings so we can build a better future for our children.”

The three of them fell silent. It was no secret that as a result of their father’s underhanded dealings growing up, none of them had had much of a childhood. And it wasn’t because their mother hadn’t tried. Aurelia had done everything in her power to shield her children from the harsh truths of their father’s world and to Salazar’s credit, he never brought his work home. But there was only so much either of them could do when their lifestyle was a lifestyle. It leaked into the cracks around them, corrupting everything in its path, no matter how innocent.

Including their children.

Lisandro didn’t want that to be the legacy he passed down. He wanted Alejandro and Diego to become honorable, hard-working men. He wanted Lettie to marry for love and not a business negotiation as her aunt and namesake had. And he knew his siblings felt the same way.

“Part ownership,” Leticia mused aloud. “One hell of an incentive.”

“And I mean it,” Lisandro replied in earnest. “I want this to be something we do together. As a family.”

“You should call it that.” Jimena picked up her purse and swung it over her shoulder. “It’s a nice little play on words.”

Horacio and Lisandro followed their sisters out of the lounge with Lisandro locking up behind them.

“Call it what?” he asked.

Jimena stepped onto the curb and said, “Aliciente.”

Horacio glanced at her and smiled. “El Aliciente. I like that.”

“I—”

An alarm went off on Lisandro’s phone, cutting off what he was about to say. He fished it out of his pocket and hit the glowing screen a few times, unsure of how to shut the thing off. Eventually, Leticia swiped the device from him and did it herself.

“The kids finally convinced you to give up your flip phone?”

“I hate this thing.” Lisandro shoved his phone back into his pocket. “It has…apps and internet and a bunch of crap I don’t even need. Gloriana said the razor was on its last life but⁠—”

“Yes, it was.” The three of them said in unison.

And once they realized they’d all had the same thought at the same exact time, Horacio, Leticia, and Jimena enjoyed a laugh at Lisandro’s expense. He rolled his eyes and headed down the street.

“Make sure you’re at Papi’s tonight by six. He wants us there early,” he called over his shoulder.

“Where are you going!” Jimena said after him.

“To pick up Alejandro’s cake! Gloriana put the alarm on my phone so I wouldn’t forget.” He turned around, continuing to walk backward. “If my head wasn’t attached to my body, she’d have to strap it there for me.”

“Don’t go alone.” Horacio dug into his pocket and fished out a pair of keys he extended to Leticia. “I’ll take the walk with you⁠—”

Lisandro smiled and shook his head, pressed a kiss against his palm and sent it in their direction. “It’s fine, I don’t mind. Besides, Alejandro wants to see Anthony so you should probably bring him over before I get a phone call.”

Horacio shook his head at him while Jimena laughed and looped her arm through his. Leticia took the car keys and they crossed the street together while Lisandro turned the next corner.

It was the last time they ever saw each other.

One of Alejandro’s favorite things in the world was ponche segoviano and the only bakery Lisandro could think of that made a half decent one outside of Segovia was Ernesto’s. It wasn’t far from where he’d just been in Barri Gòtic and he enjoyed the walk down La Rambla. Ernesto’s was a small panadería situated on a corner between narrow streets under a bridge between two stone buildings.

He stepped out of the shop and the bell above the glass door chimed, announcing his exit. He smiled and waved over his shoulder at Ernesto behind the front counter before he rounded the corner and made his way back to the main avenue. It was about a fifteen-minute walk from there to where he parked but he didn’t mind it much. As someone who spent half their time on planes flying from one city to another and the other half either sitting in a car or office, he knew the value of an afternoon stroll. Especially in a city as beautiful as Barcelona.