Page 34 of His to Bedevil

“I wish it weren’t dark out already. This might be my only chance to see outside the estate,” she says as she leans against the window, looking out. “Where in Cuba are we going?”

“We’ll be about an hour west of Havana.”

She sighs. “Havana. I’ve always wanted to go to Havana,” she says in a dreamy voice.

“Have you never been to Cuba before,mi amor?” She shakes her head. I take her hand in mine and lace our fingers together. She doesn’t seem to hate the gesture. I’m not even sure if she’s cognizant of it. “Do you have family here?” She nods her head. “We can have them come for a visit soon if you’d like.”

She snorts and shakes her head, still staring out the window. “I haven’t seen my grandparents since I was a small child. They never…” She trails off and sighs. “Never mind. It’s okay though. Thanks for the offer.”

Although it’s killing me not to make her elaborate more on the subject, I won’t pry with other people around. My men know better than to listen in, but I know she won’t feel comfortable enough to talk about anything personal around them. I’m elated at the fact that she’s opening up somewhat with me.

I still cannot dig up any information about her past. Where she was after she was taken from her mother and when she landed in my grasp. She hasn’t seen or talked to her mother since she was a kid, and her father died when she was even younger. Also, her false identity as Fynn Ryan said she was a year older than she actually is. I wonder if that was so that she could become an adult sooner? So much I need to unearth and bring to light. There isn’t a part of Irma I don’t want to explore.

Rubbing my temples, I let out a deep breath. “You get headaches a lot?” I eye her out of the corner of my eye and nod my head. “I’ve noticed you rubbing your temples pretty much every day that I’ve seen you. Here.” She turns sideways, and she gestures for me to turn in some as well.

Not having much room to work with, I only turn my head and drop my hands. She reaches up and begins to massage my temples with her index and middle fingers, creating a circular motion with a good amount of pressure. She’s staring up at the task at hand while I’m staring into her green eyes. My eyes close involuntarily, succumbing to the sensation. “Does that feel okay?” she whispers, and I respond with a grunting noise. I haven’t forgotten there are other people around us, and I don’t need them to know what Irma does to me. They understand that she is important and if even a single hair is harmed on her head under their watch, they’re dead. But I do not need them all to know that she is my weakness. That I want to lay my head down on her lap right here and let her continue to massage my temples like this forever.

I feel the vehicle hit the gravel road, and my eyes slowly open. When they do, I find Irma staring right into them. It’s as if she just realized what she was doing, and she stiffens in her seat. It infuriates me. We were having a moment, and she’s fighting it, regretting it. Taking both of her wrists in my hands, I kiss the fingers that were dulling the pain in my head. “Thank you, my love. I feel much better,” I say quietly, and she pulls her wrists out of my hands and turns back toward the window.

“You should take some medicine when we get there,” she mutters, and it brings a small smirk to my face. Is she beginning to care about me? I don’t see being a nurturer as part of her nature.

We pull up to the front of the estate, where Berto and a few other men are waiting for us. I help Irma out of the car, and I keep her hand in mine when we ascend the stairs leading up to the front doors.

“Welcome home, Alejo,” Berto says, and opens the door for us. “I’ll let you get settled, and you can come find me later.”

“I’ll find you in the morning. It’s been a long day, Berto. After we get settled in, we’ll be going to bed.” I can see he wants to protest, but he doesn’t.

“Mijo!” My mother’s voice rings out, and she walks into the room with a beautiful smile on her face and her arms extended toward me.

“Mamá.” I smile and meet her halfway, dragging Irma behind me. I let go of her hand to give my mother a proper hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Mamá, this is Irma.” I pull back and stand next to Irma, presenting her.

My mother looks at Irma with curiosity, roving over her from head to toe. Then she arches an eyebrow and smiles. “I see how Alejo has quickly become so fascinated with you, Irma. You are simply stunning.” She leans in and kisses both of her cheeks.

Irma’s cheeks flush, causing me to grin. “Thank you, Señora Martinez,” she says politely with bashfulness in her voice.

“Mamá, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve had a long day, and I need to get Irma settled in. I’ll see you in the morning.” I kiss her good night on the cheek.

“Okay,mijo. I’ll see you two tomorrow. Irma,tesora. You and I will do lunch.” She kisses Irma on the cheek and lets us go.

Irma’s eyes are bouncing all over the place as we ascend the grand staircase and head for our bedroom. I murmur a little about its history as we pass all the rooms in the hallway. How it was built by my grandfather almost a hundred years ago and about its Spanish roots. I love seeing her eyes light up every time I reveal a bit of information or when her eyes land on something new. The little thrill I get seeing even a modicum of the effulgence and brightness I know is inside of her.

We get to our bedroom, and I close us inside. This room is even larger than the one in Miami. It has the same amenities only in a bigger space. I watch her as she spins around, taking everything in. Her slender shoulders and her elegant neck, I want to put my lips all over them. Stalking her, I close the gap and slide up behind her. Her body tenses, but she doesn’t struggle to get away from me. Wrapping my arms around her tiny waist, I lean down and run the tip of my nose up the column of her neck and inhale. She smells citrusy again, and I can’t wait to devour her. I need a taste. Pressing my lips to her neck, I flick my tongue over the smooth skin there, making her take a sharp breath in. Biting back the groan that is bubbling up in my throat, I taste her some more, kissing and licking down her neck to her shoulder. Her milky white skin is as smooth as silk, untouched by the harsh sun.

“Are you hungry,mi amor?” I rumble against her skin, my own hunger for her about to eat me alive.

I hear her swallow loudly. “I could eat,” she admits quietly, her voice quivering.

Just then, there’s a knock at the door, and since I told Berto I wouldn’t be disturbed till tomorrow, I assume it’s the maid with our belongings. Giving Irma one last sensual kiss on her shoulder, I free her from my clutches and head for the door.

I open it to see Juanita, our longest lasting maid here. She’s known me since the day I was born. Her aged face lights up when she sees me. “Señor Martinez.”

I smile back at her. “Juanita.” I kiss her cheek in greeting and gesture for her to come in with a couple of bags and two of my men trailing behind her with the rest of our things.

They follow her into the closet and then quickly leave, leaving her behind. I meet her in the large walk-in. “Juanita, it’s been a long day for Señorita Ramirez and me. You can unpack for us tomorrow when we are rested.”

Juanita peers around my large body, and her face lights up even brighter than when she saw me. Stepping around me, she enters the bedroom and approaches a timid-looking Irma. Her arms fly up, and Irma flinches slightly. “Señorita Ramirez!” She leans in and kisses both of her cheeks enthusiastically. “I am happy to meet you,” she exclaims in choppy English.

“Gracias, señora,” Irma replies with a small smile.

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