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I slipped my arm around her waist and we walked towards the restaurant. Cameras were flashing in our faces and people were shouting our names but Alana didn’t flinch.
‘Mrs. Montoya,’ a reporter sidled up to her with a microphone in her face. ‘This is the first time we’ve seen you and Mr. Montoya together since your surprise wedding. Can you tell us why you’ve been hiding away?’
I waited. This was her chance to tell the world what a bastard I was.
She turned her body to mine and rested her hand on my chest. ‘Have you seen my husband?’ she asked with a flash of her eyebrows. ‘We’re newlyweds. Why do you think we’ve been hiding away?’ Then she gave them all a killer smile and they broke into laughter as the cameras kept flashing.
She looked up at my face, gazing adoringly at me and I couldn’t help but smile at her.
She was an incredible actress. I leaned down and pressed my mouth over hers. I was taking a liberty doing this in public, but I also wanted to see how she’d handle it.
She placed her hand on my cheek and kissed me back. I slipped my tongue inside for an instant, but I regretted it as soon as I tasted her.
I’d kissed her once before, but that had been in front of my mother and I’d been distracted. Tonight, she tasted of peppermint and strawberries, and sin, and now I knew that, I wanted more of her. In fact, all I could think about was sliding my tongue into the other parts of her body that belonged to me.
I pulled away and looked into her eyes. Had she enjoyed that as much as I had? Before I could read her, the maître d was out of the restaurant and ushering us inside.
‘I’m so sorry about this intrusion, Mr. Montoya,’ he said. ‘I’ve reserved you your favorite table.’
I placed my hand on the small of Alana’s back and we walked into the restaurant and away from the baying photographers.
Heads turned as she passed. She was beautiful, with curves in all the right places and a certain kind of confidence that I’d rarely seen in a woman. But she seemed to have no idea of the effect she had on people. And that didn’t fit at all with the spoiled little princess I’d thought I was marrying.
Our marriage was a business arrangement. I had chosen a woman who would give me an heir and nothing more. I didn’t want to like her, to think she was funny, or smart, or wonder what she was doing when she wasn’t with me. I certainly didn’t want to fall in love with her. I didn’t have time for such complications. That’s why I’d chosen a woman I could never fall in love with — but it seemed I’d been duped.
Alana Carmichael was proving my assumptions wrong at every single turn.
ALANA
Alejandro handed the menus back to our waiter and turned to face me. He wore a navy suit and a crisp white shirt, open at the collar, revealing just the tiniest glimpse of one of his many tattoos. It hadn’t escaped my attention that almost every woman in the restaurant had glanced in our direction at least once. He was probably the best looking man I had ever seen — but he was still a bastard and a devil. I could never forget that.
‘That was quite the show you put on outside,’ he said as he took a sip of his water.
‘Well, I had to make it look convincing, didn’t I? Although I’m not sure that us together is that convincing.’
He frowned at me. ‘And why is that?’
‘Oh, come on. I’m not your usual type, am I? I’m sure there are plenty of people wondering what L.A’s most eligible bachelor is doing with a slightly chubby brunette from New York.’
His frown turned to a scowl. ‘Chubby? In what world could you be ever considered chubby, Alana?’
‘In your world, Alejandro. Your world of models and actresses and women who survive on carrot juice and kale,’ I replied.
I was confident in my body, usually, and back in New York, I’d been happy to show off my curves in any weather. But here, in L.A, women had bodies that were beyond unbelievable. They all looked like they’d been airbrushed to perfection.
‘None of those women meant anything to me,’ he said dismissively.
‘And I do?’ I flashed an eyebrow at him.
‘You’re my wife, aren’t you?’ he frowned.
‘Hmm, your wife in name only.’
He narrowed his eyes at me and I wondered what was going through his mind. I felt a flush of heat between my thighs as I sat under the glare of his gaze.
‘Speaking of names. Why do the staff call you Alana?’
I frowned at him. ‘Because it’s my name. What the hell else should they call me?’
