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“It’s not that big a deal. My parents usually were away that day. With...friends.” His mother typically went jet-setting with her current lover, while his father either lost himself in work or pursued her in a rage, depending on his mood. Pushing the memory aside, he said, “But my mother always told our cook to bake me something like turkey. Often it was Spanish chicken with saffron rice.”
“You’re kidding.” Shock flashed through Lola’s eyes. “Your parents left you alone on Thanksgiving?”
“Somehow I survived,” he said dryly.
She shook her head decisively. “You deserve a real holiday.”
“So you’re offering to visit your friends in New York for my sake? Noble.”
“All right, you got me. I want to see them. Selfishly.” Lola put her hand on his shoulder. “I couldn’t invite them to our wedding. I wanted so badly for them to be there. But now Tess and Stefano are hosting Thanksgiving at their new home. I want to spend the day in New York. Either with you—” she lifted her chin “—or without you.”
For a moment, Rodrigo was distracted by her soft touch against his arm, and the full view of her breasts as she looked up at him with defiant hazel eyes. His blood quickened. “You’re not taking my son away from me on Thanksgiving.”
Her lips quirked. “So now it’s suddenly a super-important family holiday?”
Staring at her full, wet lips, he murmured, “It’s growing on me.” Then he looked up. “Tess and Stefano? You don’t mean Prince Stefano Zacco, the fashion billionaire?”
“That’s him.”
“You’re best friends with Zacco’s wife?” His eyes narrowed. “And what about the other one... Hallie? Do I know her?”
Lola gave him a cheeky grin. “You often stay at her husband’s hotels.”
His eyes widened. “She’s married to Cristiano Moretti? Your best friends are both married to billionaires?”
“So?”
“Were they the ones who were going to help you fight for custody?”
She nodded. “We look out for each other.”
So she’d never been plotting with Sergei Morozov behind his back. All his irrational fears had been just that—irrational. As she set down her phone, he said quietly, “I’m sorry I doubted you.
”
“Yeah. You should stop it.” Putting a hand on her hip, she gave him a tilted glance beneath her dark lashes. “Get this through your head. I’ll never betray you, Rodrigo. Ever.”
Hearing Lola speak those words caused a strange rush through his heart. His gaze fell to her full, lush breasts in the bra, traveling down her nearly naked body, to her tiny bare waist, expanding to the curve of her hips, with the little flimsy black lace panties. Behind her in the mirror, he could see most of her backside, with only the tiny strip between.
“Show me,” he whispered.
Pulling her into his arms, he lowered his mouth to hers. Pushing her against the wall of the changing room, he gloried in the feel of the soft curves of her body pressed against his own. He felt the tremble of her lips. Felt her hesitate.
He lured her, tempted her. He gripped her wrists to the wall, ruthlessly kissing her until her lips began to move against his, slowly at first, then hungrily, as her fire matched his own.
Pulling her wrists from his grip, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, drawing him down harder against her.
Outside their small changing room, in the exclusive, private waiting area, their baby was still noisily snoring in the stroller, parked beside the white leather sofa and three-way mirror. For now, they were alone, but at any moment, Rodrigo knew they could be interrupted. Perhaps the boutique’s salesgirls would come in to offer him more champagne, or bring more ball gowns for his wife to try on. He glanced back at the waiting area. For all he knew, there were security cameras.
He should take her back to his apartment, he knew, where they could be assured of privacy. But it would take too long. It would be twenty minutes. Thirty.
He needed her now.
Jerking the velvet curtain closed over the changing room doorway, Rodrigo kissed her passionately, cradling her face in his hands.
She was so sweet. So indescribably sweet. His earlier suspicions had melted away, and his heart was full of an emotion he didn’t want to identify.
I’ll never betray you, Rodrigo. Ever.
