Modern Romance July 2019 Books 1-4. Sharon Kendrick
that matters? he remembered demanding incredulously.
It matters to me.
He’d wanted to tell her that his mother might not wear a wedding ring on her finger, but that his father was someone whose wealth and position could easily eclipse that of her stepfather. But he hadn’t done that, because at heart Alejandro Sabato was a proud man. And, in view of what had subsequently happened, thank God he hadn’t.
But dwelling on his hurt and his anger wasn’t going to get him anywhere—at least, not at this precise moment. Instead, Alejandro pushed away the ugly thoughts as he raked his gaze over her. He had wondered if the intervening years might have given her an air of sophistication, but they certainly hadn’t. At the ranch she could have been excused for her plain jeans and T-shirt—but in the VIP section of one of the world’s most prestigious race events, she could not.
His mouth thinned into a disapproving line, for he had imagined she would make herself beautiful for him, as women always did. He wondered if this was some kind of subtle rebellion—turning up with her face bare of make-up and wearing a cheap cotton dress. And why was her blonde hair hanging over one shoulder in that thick and wholesome plait, so she looked like some superannuated milkmaid rather than a smooth PR he’d hired to revamp his playboy image?
Yet her drab clothes were doing nothing to dampen his ardour for her. If anything, her prim outfit was heating his blood with a passion he hadn’t felt in years and he was having difficulty averting his gaze from her luscious curves, which no plain shift dress could possibly disguise. His throat dried. He resented the physical allure she still seemed to radiate, despite her second-rate appearance. Was she aware that the thin material was brushing tantalisingly against her generous breasts, reminding him all too vividly of the way he used to stroke them until she moaned? Or that her bare legs were making his groin grow exquisitely hard as he wondered what type of panties she was wearing and was filled with a sudden overwhelming desire to discover the answer for himself. Later, he promised himself, with a fierce beat of hunger. Later.
Deliberately, he swivelled his gaze away from her, directing it instead towards the battered suitcase she was clutching. ‘And that?’ he demanded, with soft incredulity.
‘It’s my suitcase. Obviously.’ She tilted a defiant chin. ‘I didn’t want to be any later than I already was, so I came straight here without checking into my hotel first.’
‘Well, you can’t stay here, not looking like that.’ He fished a shoal of car keys from the back pocket of his jeans and took the case from her. ‘My car isn’t far away. I’ll take you to your hotel so you can change. Or at least iron your dress.’
‘I’m very grateful for the sartorial tips, Alejandro. Perhaps you’d like to colour-coordinate my wardrobe for me while I’m here?’
Ignoring her sarcastic comments, he glanced at his gold watch. ‘The qualifying session is over and the main race isn’t until tomorrow. There’s a party on a yacht down in the harbour I need to attend, but that’s not until later. Come on. Don’t let’s waste any more time. Let’s go.’
He was so...bossy, Emily thought, and part of her wanted to object to his high-handedness. To tell him she’d prefer to start working straight away and check into her hotel later, but that would have been a lie. To be honest, she didn’t think she could concentrate on anything right now, especially not on the closely written notes she’d made when he’d first given her the contract. Her brain felt fuzzy and her limbs were as heavy as lead, after being stuck in the middle row of a crowded plane between two women, one of whom had crunched on boiled sweets for the entire flight. Hopefully a quick shower and change of clothes would turn her back into her usual efficient self.
Because she was good at her job, she reminded herself fiercely. That was why she and Marybeth had taken the decision to leave the big agency they’d been working at and go it alone. She might be a complete disaster where relationships were concerned, but at least her career was going somewhere. And this was the chance to prove it—to herself and to the world at large. Because if she could single-handedly turn around Alejandro Sabato’s bad-boy image, wouldn’t that bring in a whole stream of new contracts and catapult their company onto the next level? Wasn’t that what she’d been striving for all these years?
So she nodded and smiled at him. ‘Okay,’ she said politely. ‘That’d be good.’
It felt weird having someone carry her bag for her. She’d been on her own for so long that it seemed like a luxury—and a poignant one at that. But deep down she knew it didn’t mean anything. Outwardly Alejandro might be acting like a gentleman but there was no denying his underlying hostility towards her, which no acts of chivalry could disguise.
They made their way to a car park, where mouth-wateringly expensive vehicles were sitting in gleaming rows. Slinging her suitcase into the boot of one of the most luxurious, he punched out the postcode she’d given him and powered the car out of the park like a restless animal which had just been released for the day.
It quickly became clear that he was driving in an unfamiliar part of the city because he cursed several times in Spanish as they drove past a series of giant business parks before reaching a downmarket residential area, where graffiti was daubed on boarded-up shop windows and litter drifted in slow motion through the streets. Although a relatively short distance away from the racetrack, it seemed like a world away from all the glitz and glamour Emily had glimpsed there. As he pulled upside a motel with dirty windows and two letters missing from the sign, she saw him scowl before slamming his fist against the steering wheel and turning to look at her, undisguised irritation darkening his rugged features.
‘Don’t tell me,’ he said. ‘This was the cheapest hotel you could find?’
‘Actually, it’s five-star—just very cunningly disguised.’
‘Cut the sarcasm, Emily,’ he snapped, before twisting the key in the ignition again so that the engine powered into renewed life. ‘You’re not staying here.’
‘That’s just where you’re wrong, Alejandro. I am. This is where I’ve booked to stay and my room is paid for in advance. I’m perfectly prepared to rough it for a few days and my accommodation is my concern, not yours.’ She put her fingers on the door handle. ‘Besides, I don’t have anywhere else to go.’
‘Yes, you do. Don’t you dare move. You’re not going anywhere.’ His no-nonsense tone brooked no argument as he turned the car back towards the city.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Taking you somewhere which will have easy access to the race ground.’
‘I’m not spending all my budget on a fancy hotel—’
‘Let me worry about the budget, Emily. Just sit back and enjoy the ride.’
Enjoy the ride? He was definitely crazy. Yet somehow...somehow...Emily found herself doing exactly that. She blamed the accumulated jet lag of recent back-to-back flights across the globe for her compliance, because why else would she have settled back into the squishy comfort of the seat, secretly relieved not to have to stay in that ghastly motel, which looked nothing like it had done on the website?
And wasn’t she secretly enjoying watching Alej manoeuvre the powerful car through the city streets? It felt like something of a voyeuristic and guilty distraction to observe the thrust of his muscular thighs as he deftly weaved in and out of traffic, and before long he was drawing up outside a beautiful hotel in the historic part of the city. Ornate spires soared up into a cloudless blue sky and window boxes of bright pink flowers added splashes of colour to the gracious façade. Emily glanced up at the sign. Even if her research hadn’t flagged up this as one of the most exclusive places to stay in the city—she could have worked that out for herself.
‘No way. I can’t possibly stay here,’ she objected. ‘This is one of the best hotels in Melbourne.’
‘You have no choice. Everywhere else will be full because of the race.’ His voice was underpinned