Page 10 of Wes

Her words play out on repeat in my head as the limousine takes me to wherever Maria is staying. It’s easy to lose one’s sense of direction in a sprawling city such as São Paulo. I don’t know where I’m at nor where the car is heading. I go with the flow, peering out of the tinted windows at the high rises and the crowds.

Thoughts vanish like dew under the morning sun when I catch a glimpse of Maria standing on the sidewalk. Her blonde hair glows under the bright lights of a hotel marquee despite her dark expression.

“So, she doesn’t have local roots either,” I mutter under my breath as the car slows down.

Ana and Moira have mentioned Maria’s work in California, but I assumed she also had family and friends in the city.

Before the driver has a chance to open his door, she’s stepping inside the vehicle.

“Thanks. I’ve got this,” she informs him, choosing a spot on the leather seat opposite mine. The one farthest from me.

After the exchanges we had yesterday, I expected a cold shoulder from her today. But the icy glance she hurls at me, as she adjusts the folds of her knee-long, black Burberry coat, puts Arctic waters to shame. However, her eyes remind me of the Pacific: dark, deep, with danger lurking below the surface.

For me, the risk means I might lose myself and drown. No other woman has ever had such effect on me, a mix of a compelling desire to possess and cherish, to own her pleasure and earn her trust.

As blood zings through my veins, my ears ring, and my throat dries up. The ground opens beneath me, I fall down a bottomless pit and lose all sense of direction.

Unsure of what to say or do, I dip my head once in a silent greeting and wait for her next move.

She lifts her chin, crosses her arms under her breasts, and offers me her profile as she stares out of the window.

Not at all the reaction I’m used to from women. But it’s not my ego that’s bruised right now. I drop a hand to my groin to hide the painful erection straining the black wool pants she picked for me yesterday.

I huff. “I don’t need to be a psychic to know you’re not happy with this,” I mutter, waggling an index finger between us.

Which she ignores as her gaze remains trained on the outside landscape of cars, people, and buildings.

Shrugging, she murmurs, “Wasn’t aiming at subtle.”

The bitterness in her voice strikes me like a punch to the gut.What the hell have I ever done to this woman?

Scowling, I lean forward to straighten things up between us, but the car slows to a stop. I glance out and swallow my words. In the ten feet between the entrance to the restaurant and our ride, a throng of cameras and mics points at us. For the sake of Hidden Scars, this is not the time to start an argument. And I’ve no doubt the pixie fuming in front of me wouldn’t shy away from one scorching exchange.

Maria murmurs, “To be honest, I tried to get out of this train wreck of a night, but Ana argued it’d hurt the non-profit, so here we are.” As if reading my mind, she adds under her breath, “But now’s not the time to discuss it. Let’s just bite the fucking bullet and act like adults.” With a glance worthy of a strict headmistress chiding an unruly student, she wraps up her lecture, “Think you can do that?”

Before I can reply, or open the door for her, she’s out of the fucking car. My blood now boils for a totally different reason but just as compelling.

I call to mind all the reasons why I need tonight to work, swallow my pride, and step onto the sidewalk. Smiling in the general direction of the cameras, I wrap my fingers around the base of her neck. When my skin touches hers, a jolt of electricity burns me. She quivers and tries to break contact, but I tighten my hold, careful not to hurt her. As rattled as I am by my wayward emotions, I’m painfully aware of the optics of the moment. Last thing I need is another negative headline, this time detailing how I can gross out a woman, who paid half a million dollars to spend time with me, in two seconds flat. Not the favorable kind of publicity Tarmac Records was looking for when they forced me to participate in this charade.

She doesn’t try to step away again, but her spine becomes stiff as a rod while we stroll toward the set of double doors with golden handles. Her wide grin might fool the distant lenses, but up close, the coldness in her eyes chills my heart. The tight set of her jaw matches mine. I heave a sigh of relief when we cross the threshold and stand in front of a lectern.

The smiling brunette behind it wastes no time in directing a server to take us to our table, while a couple of security people bar the reporters from following us in.

“Good evening. My name’s Pedro and I’ll be your server tonight,” the twenty-something man announces, his shaved head glistens under the hidden spots of yellow light. Hugging a couple of leather folders, he invites us to follow him. “This way, please.”

The glow of burning candles on table centerpieces, as wells as the walls covered by wooden panels, create a cozy atmosphere inside the main room. However, the dim light doesn’t provide us enough anonymity because heads turn our way as we meander after Pedro.

When we reach the opposite side, he stops by a door and stretches his arm out. “Here you are.” After we enter the private room, he pulls a chair for Maria.

Before taking her seat, she sheds the heavy coat and I catch a glimpse of the shaped bodice of her dress, its nipped waist and low scooped neckline. All prim and proper, as I expected to see Maria wearing. Except for the navy-blue sequins covering every inch of the fabric. Now, they shimmer as she moves to grab the fogged glass of cold water.

Pedro waits for me to settle down before he hands out the menus. “I’ll give you two time to decide. Please, press the buzz under the table when you’re ready, or if you have questions.”

“Absolutely,” I reply, nodding.

“Will do,” Maria sounds from behind the leather-bound menu.

After the man leaves, I glance across the table at her, but she ignores my presence. The sparks of indignation I felt when we arrived have dissolved. I take the opportunity to consider the woman on the opposite side of the table who’s rapidly becoming an enticing challenge wrapped in an enthralling enigma.

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