The Montoros Affair: The Princess and the Player / Maid for a Magnate / A Royal Temptation. Charlene SandsЧитать онлайн книгу.
her nails on his bare arm sang through him. This was the most fun he’d had all day. “Sweetheart, I hate to disillusion you, but I’ve managed to ruin my reputation quite nicely all by my own self. Hanging out with you might actually improve it.”
“Huh.” She gave him a wholly inappropriate once-over that raised the temperature a few thousand degrees. “I’m dying to know. What did you do?”
“You really don’t know?” That would be a first.
When she shook her head, he thought about glossing over it for a half second, but she’d find out soon enough anyway. “Mishap in Rio. Some unfortunate photographs starring me and a prostitute. I swear, money never came up, but there you go. The world didn’t see it as an innocent mistake.”
Gaze locked on his, she squeezed his arm. “Man after my own heart. Of all the things I thought we might have in common, that was not it. I’m recovering from my own photographer-in-the-bushes fiasco. Cretins.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. Sorry.”
A moment of pure commiseration passed between them. And it spread into something dangerously affecting. They shared a complete lack of reverence for rules, their chemistry was off the charts and they were both in Alma trying to find their footing. It was practically criminal that he couldn’t explore her gorgeous body and even more attractive mind to his heart’s content.
But he couldn’t. While he might have competed with Will over women in the past, this one was different. James wasn’t in a good place to start anything with a woman anyway, especially not one who would live in the public eye for the foreseeable future. She needed to be with Will, who would take care of her and not sully her with failure.
Not to mention that his father seemed to have struck some kind of bargain with the Montoro family. Until James knew exactly what that entailed, he couldn’t cross the line he so badly wanted to.
She’d flat out told him he’d have to be the strong one, that he should stop tempting her. So that was the way it had to be.
James smiled and slipped his own sunglasses over his eyes so she couldn’t read how difficult this was going to be for him. “Nice to see you again, Bella. I’ve got an appointment I’m late for so I’ve got to dash.”
Casual. No commitment to calling her later. Exactly the right tone to brush her off.
She frowned and opened her mouth, but before she could say something they’d both likely regret, he added, “You should ring Will. Cheers,” and whirled to take off down the boardwalk as fast he could.
Being noble tasted more bitter than he would have ever anticipated.
James’s rebuff stayed with Bella into the evening.
Apparently he wasn’t of the same mind that a match between the Rowlings and Montoros could work just as easily between James and Bella as it could with his brother.
Being forced into a stiff, formal dinner with her father didn’t improve her mood. Gabriel and Serafia were supposed to be there, too, which was the only reason Bella agreed, but the couple had yet to show.
Five bucks said they’d lost track of time while indulging in a much more pleasurable activity than dinner with Little Sister and Frosty Father. Lucky dogs.
Bella spooned up another bite of Marta’s gazpacho, one of the best things the chef had prepared so far, and murmured her appreciation in case her father was actually paying attention to her today. But her mind was back on the boardwalk outside El Gatito. She’d have sworn the encounter with James would end with at least a kiss in the shadows of a storefront. Just to take the edge off until they got behind closed doors and let the simmering heat between them explode.
“Isabella.” Her father’s voice startled her out of an X-rated fantasy that she shouldn’t have envisioned at all, let alone at the dinner table.
Not because of the X factor, but because it had starred James, who had cast her off with the lovely parting gift of his brother. Call Will. As if James had already grown tired of her and wanted to be clear about what her next steps should be.
“Yeah, Dad?” He must have realized that they were actually sitting at the same table. For once. She couldn’t remember the last time they’d eaten together.
“You should know your great-aunt Isabella has decided to spend her last days in Alma. She arrived this morning and is asking after you.”
Sudden happy tears burned Bella’s eyelids. “Oh, that’s the best news ever. Isn’t she going to stay here with us?”
“The restoration of the monarchy is topmost on your aunt’s mind.” Rafael’s gaze bored into her; he was no doubt trying to instill the gravity of royal protocol. “Therefore, she is staying in Del Sol. She wished to be close to El Castillo del Arena, so that she may be involved in Gabriel’s coronation to the extent she is able.”
Bella swore. Del Sol was, what? An hour away? Fine time to realize she should have taken her father up on the offer of a car...except she hadn’t wanted to learn all the new traffic laws and Spanish road signs. Too late now—she’d have to take the chauffeured town car in order to visit Tía Isabella.
“Playa Del Onda is practically like Miami.” Bella grumbled, mostly to herself. “You’d think she’d prefer the coast.”
Her father put his spoon by his plate even though his bowl of gazpacho was still almost full. It hadn’t been long enough since the last time they’d dined together for her to forget that meant a subject of grave importance was afoot and it wasn’t her aunt’s preference of locale.
“I have another matter to discuss. How was your first meeting with Will Rowling?”
Biting back a groan, she kept eating in a small show of defiance. Then she swallowed and said, “I haven’t scheduled it yet.”
Her father frowned. “I have it on good authority that you spoke to him today. On the boardwalk.”
Spies? Her father had stooped to a new low. “I wasn’t talking to Will. That was James.”
Oh, duh. Her brand new security-guards-slash-babysitters had spilled the beans. Too bad they were the wrong beans.
Rafael’s brows snapped together. “I cannot make myself more clear. Will Rowling is the man you should be pursuing.”
Bella abandoned her spoon and plunked her elbows on the table to lean forward, so her father didn’t miss her game face. “What if I like James better?”
Never mind that James had washed his hands of her. Regardless, it was the principle of the thing. Her father liked to try and run her life but failed to recall that Bella’s typical response was to tell him to go to hell.
“James Rowling is bad news wrapped with trouble,” Rafael shot back with a scowl. “He is not good enough for my daughter.”
It seemed as if James had quoted this exact conversation to her yesterday on the beach. What was he, psychic? James’s comment about the photographs that had gotten him into trouble crossed her mind and she realized there must be more to the story. She actually knew very little about the man other than the way he made her feel when he looked at her.
She eyed her father. What if Rafael had told James to brush her off? Would James have listened? She wouldn’t put it past her father to interfere and now she wished she’d chased James down so she could ask. Shoot. She’d have to arrange another accidental meeting in order to find out.
“Maybe I’d like to make that decision on my own.”
“Perhaps you need a few more facts if you’re determined to undo the work I’ve already done on your behalf.” Her father rubbed his graying temple. “Will Rowling is the next CEO of Rowling Energy, and he will be of