The Montoros Affair: The Princess and the Player / Maid for a Magnate / A Royal Temptation. Charlene Sands
he growled. “You’re the one in that knockout dress. All I can hear in my head is your voice on repeat, when you said the next time we were together, you’d be naked.”
“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” She kissed the tip of her finger and pressed it to his lips, but she pulled away too quickly for him to suck the finger into his mouth the way he wanted to. “I’m naked under this dress. Wanna pull over?”
He nearly whimpered. “I cannot possibly explain how much I would like to do exactly that. But we are not getting it on in the car like a couple of horny teenagers. You deserve to be treated right and that includes a bed and me taking my time enjoying you.”
Besides, they might be headed into the heart of rural Alma, but the roads were not deserted. They passed cars constantly. People knew who drove the only green Lamborghini on the island and all it would take was one idiot with a camera phone for another risqué picture of James and Bella together to land in the public eye. It was a dirty shame he hadn’t tinted the windows on his car.
Until they straightened out the marriage announcement, it would create so much less of a jumble if they kept a low profile.
“Then drive faster,” Bella suggested, and her hand wandered over to rest on his inner thigh, where she casually stroked him. Innocently, as if she touched him all the time, except she hadn’t touched him like that before and his vision started to blur with unrequited lust.
He stepped on the gas. Hard.
“Where are we going?” Driving around until they stumbled over a farmhouse that may or may not exist had started to sound like the worst idea he’d ever agreed to.
“This is the main road to Aldeia Dormer, right?” When he nodded, she pointed at the horizon. “The assistant I talked to thought she remembered that the farmhouse was on the outskirts, before you hit the village. If you keep going, we’ll find out.”
“What if I just take you to a hotel and we check in under an assumed name?”
He had plenty of practice with parking in an obscure place and passing out discrete tips to the staff so he and his lady friend could duck through the kitchen entrance. Why hadn’t he insisted on that in the first place? The text from Will had muddled him up, obviously. There was a former castillo-turned-four-star-bed-and-breakfast on the south side of Playa Del Onda that he wouldn’t mind trying.
She shook her head with a sad smile and it was so much the opposite of her normal sunny demeanor, he immediately wanted to say something to lighten the mood. But what had caused such an instant mood shift?
“My aunt asked me to find the farmhouse. It’s important to her and maybe to Gabriel. She said it was part of the Montoro legacy. We’re already so close. I promise, if we don’t find it soon, I’ll reconsider the hotel.”
Her earnestness dug under his skin and there was no way he could refuse. “Sure. We’ll keep going.”
Okay, maybe she was a little different from other women he’d dated. He certainly couldn’t recall catering to one so readily before, but that was probably due to the degree of difficulty he’d experienced in getting this one undressed and under him.
They drove for a couple of miles, wrapped in tension. Just when James started to curse his flamboyant taste in cars, they crested a hill, and she gasped as a white farmhouse came into view.
Wonders of wonders. “Is that it?”
“I’m not sure.” Bella pursed her lips as he drove off the main road onto the winding path to the farmhouse and parked under a dangerously dilapidated carport.
Would serve him right if this ill-conceived jaunt through Alma resulted in a hundred grand worth of bodywork repairs when the carport collapsed on the Lamborghini. “I thought you said it was off this road.”
“Well, it’s supposed to be. But I’ve never been here before,” she pointed out. “Maybe there are a hundred white farmhouses between here and Aldeia Dormer.”
“Only one way to find out.” He helped her from the car and held her hand as they picked through the overgrown property. “Don’t step in the tall weed patches. There might be something living in them you’d rather not tangle with.”
She squeezed his hand. “I’m glad you’re here, then. I’ll let you deal with the creepy crawly stuff.”
“I’ll be your hero any day.”
Her grateful smile made his chest tight with a foreign weight because he felt like a fraud all at once. The only heroic thing he’d ever done in his life was give Bella an opportunity to be with Will if she chose. When had he last expended any appreciable effort looking out for someone else’s welfare?
He could start right now, if he wanted to. No reason he couldn’t keep an eye out for opportunities to throw himself in front of a bullet—figuratively speaking—for an amazing woman like Bella. If she’d smile at him like that again, the payoff wasn’t too shabby.
The farmhouse’s original grandeur still shone through despite the years of neglect. Once, the two-story clapboard house had likely been the home of a large family, where they gathered around an old wooden table at supper to laugh and tell stories as dogs ran underfoot.
As if he knew anything about what a family did at supper. Especially a family whose members liked each other and spent time together on purpose. Did that kind of lovely fairy tale even exist outside of movies? He swallowed the stupid lump in his throat. Who cared? He had no roots and liked it that way.
The property spread beyond the house into a small valley. Chickens had probably clucked in the wide backyard, scolding fat pigs or horses that lived in the wooden pens just barely visible from the front of the house. The fences had long fallen to the weed-choked ground, succumbing to weathering and decay.
James nearly tripped over an equally weathered rectangular wooden board hidden by the grass and weeds. He kicked at it, but it was solid enough not to move much despite the force of his well-toned football muscles. Metal loops across the top caught his attention and he leaned down to ease the board up on its side.
“It’s a sign,” Bella whispered as her gaze lit on the opposite side.
James spun around to view the front. In bold, blocky letters, the sign read Escondite Real. “In more ways than one.”
Unless he missed his guess, this was indeed the property of royalty. Or someone’s idea of a joke.
“No one told me to brush up on my Spanish before I came here. What does it say?” Bella asked with a mock pout.
“Royal Hideaway. Is this where your ancestors came to indulge in illicit affairs?”
Mischievously, she winked at James. “If not, it’s where the current generation will.”
“Illicit affairs are my favorite.” Taking her hand again, he guided her toward the house.
“Look. It’s beautiful.”
Bella pointed at a butterfly the size of his palm. It alighted on a purple bougainvillea that had thrived despite the lack of human attention, the butterfly’s wings touching and separating slowly. But the sight couldn’t keep his attention, not when Bella’s face had taken on a glow in the late afternoon sunlight as she smiled at the butterfly.
God, she was the most exquisite woman he’d ever seen. And that was saying something when he’d been hit on by women renowned the world over for their beauty.
“Let’s check out the inside.” He cleared the catch from his throat, mystified by where it had come from. Women were a dime a dozen. Why didn’t Bella seem like one of the legion he could have in his bed tomorrow?
It didn’t matter. Will hadn’t seen what he thought he’d seen when James cleared the air with him. The watch on his wrist wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Bella fished a set of keys from her bag. The second one turned the tumblers in the padlock