Page 13 of His Innocent for One Spanish Night

She smiled. ‘Sebastián and Carmen?’

‘Sí.’he nodded. ‘Would you like a drink?’

‘I’ve had one,’ Emily said. ‘Or two...’ She put her hands up to her cheeks, as if the wine was to blame for the flush to her face and neck.

He gestured to her camera and bag. ‘The waitress brought your things over—she hadn’t realised you were staff.’

‘I didn’t tell her...’ Her hands reached for her beloved camera. ‘For a second I thought I’d lost this.’

‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘That wouldn’t happen in here. Although it’s a nice camera.’

‘It’s a bit...’ She hesitated. ‘Well, it felt a bit extravagant at the time.’

‘But it’s for your work.’

‘Yes, but when I bought this it was really no more than a hobby.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘An expensive one. Almost all my baggage allowance was taken up with photographic equipment...’

Alejandro frowned just a little and it dawned on Emily that the Romeros, with their yachts and private jets, had probably never heard of a pesky little thing like baggage allowance.

‘Well, you can always use this table if you need to be here to get photos of the stage or whatever.’

‘Thank you.’

He was polite...almost formal. It was as if that odd moment when they’d stared at the other, when they’d locked gazes, hadn’t happened. And really nothinghadhappened—just a look.

A look during which presumably he’d guessed the pale woman with a camera was his new employee.

It was her own mind that had gone wild.

He spoke with a rich Spanish accent. And, although perhaps it was the brighter lights as the stage was rearranged, his features demanded scrutiny. His eyes, framed perfectly with dark arched brows, were every shade of brown and vividly revealed, because the whites of his eyes were the clearest she had ever seen. His mouth was pale and his lips were full, and she saw a smear of red lipstick on one side of his mouth...

Why did that last detail sting?

It was no business of hers who he’d been kissing—and anyway, even if he wasn’t her boss, Alejandro Romero was completely out of her league. She was only sitting with him because she was staff.

He sat back a little, holding his glass loosely with long fingers as he made polite conversation. ‘How was your trip here?’

She thought back to a few hours ago, and it felt like light years away. ‘It was fine...well, a bit rushed.’

He just looked at her.

‘There was a long wait in Madrid for my flight to Jerez...’

‘There are a lot more direct flights from Seville.’

‘Really?’

‘It’s an easier route. I’m surprised Sophia didn’t arrange that.’

‘I booked my own flights.’

‘That’s right—I know she’s been unwell. Was she able to meet you?’

‘No.’

‘So you haven’t been shown around?’

‘Not yet,’ Emily said, as if it didn’t matter—as if she hadn’t felt terrified and alone as she’d sat in the apartment.

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