Lawmakers (2 page)

She leaned against a sturdy shelf and shut her eyes, breathing the scent of leather deep into her lungs. Cases ran through her mind, names, dates, codes and statutes. She laughed at herself. Who would find the information clogging her head of interest except other students of the law? Matter of fact, what did it matter? With all the studying she had to do just to stay on top of her classes and with part-time paralegal work for the past few years, she had no time for a boyfriend, let alone more than one or two sexual encounters. Maybe that’s why she was so vulnerable to Santi.

A shadow shifted across her face, and she opened her eyes. Santi leaned on the opposite shelf watching her. He made no move to approach, but the space seemed crowded with his presence. “What are you doing up here?”

“Enjoying the view.”

She glanced around for a second and then got it. The windows were obscured here. He meant her. “You never turn it off, do you?”

“It?” His handsome face screwed into confusion. She breathed in, short of breath just looking at him, and now her favorite place smelled of more than just leather and paper. The alluring scent was Santi.

“Never mind.” She straightened. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

He didn’t even pretend not to know what she meant. “I have no plans to see any woman but you, Della.”

Her heart beat a wild tattoo. When he strode up behind her, she had trouble staying upright. The warmth from his body permeated hers, but he still made no move to touch her. What was he waiting for?

Are you crazy? Didn’t you want him to back off?

She spun to face him, and somehow her hands ended up on his chest. He stood so close, his thighs brushed hers. She swallowed, scared any second she’d feel his erection. Part of her wanted to feel it. The other told her to get the heck out of there before someone caught them and she was fired. He couldn’t get into trouble.

“Santi,” she began.

He leaned in closer to her so his lips touched the shell of her ear.
“Me encanta como dices mi nombre.”

“Um.”

“Say my name again,” he whispered.

He didn’t give her a chance. His lips captured hers in a searing kiss that left her shaky. With her hands where they were, she could have easily pushed him away, but she didn’t want to. Instead, she let him explore her mouth with the tip of his tongue. He encircled her waist with a powerful arm and splayed his hand across her lower back. She arched into him and felt the hard-on, impossibly stiff and thick against her pussy. More than anything, she wished they were somewhere private, naked, and her legs spread.

Somehow by sheer will, she broke the kiss and pushed at his chest. He gave in and backed off. They both panted, and she raised fingers to her lips. “We can’t… This is inappropriate…” The words tumbled out, but she couldn’t finish a single sentence.

She avoided looking into his eyes, not wanting to see the triumph sure to be there, but when he said nothing, she looked up at him. To her surprise, Santi seemed just as rattled as she was.
Impossible.
This was a billionaire, a man of the world who had travelled extensively for work. His very nature had him pursuing women. She knew that right off the bat, so surely kissing her wouldn’t do much other than get him excited. Any attractive woman could do that for him. Yet, Santi appeared somewhat subdued after their kiss.

“I moved too fast for you?” he asked in that sexy lilt. “I forget American women are not like the women at home.”

“No, I’m fine,” she blurted and then thought she should have agreed with him to get free of the lust he generated in her.

His smile resurfaced, and he rested a hand at her hip. She almost slipped back into his arms but resisted before she made a fool of herself.

“You must eat, no?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“Si,”
she attempted and chuckled self-consciously.

Santi kissed her again, deep and hungry, and then raised his head, winked, and was gone. Della remained where she stood until her heart stopped pounding and she could return to work without looking like she’d just come from a lover’s bed.

Chapter Two

Della had insisted she meet Santi at the restaurant they agreed on. Doing so gave her a feeling of control even if she felt he’d sent her on a whirlwind of emotion. When he arrived in a collared shirt, open at the neck and wearing dark slacks, she caught her breath at his beauty. He smiled with those perfect, straight white teeth as he headed across the restaurant toward her, and she noticed his hair lay damp against his head. She wondered what he would look like wet from the shower or pool—and naked.

Don’t start, Della. Get it together.

She stood up. “Hi, you found the place okay. I’m glad.”

“I did. These are for you.” He presented her with a bouquet of roses, and she pressed them against her nose.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “They’re amazing.”

He captured her chin, and she stiffened thinking he would kiss her lips. Instead, he kissed her on each cheek, as was the custom of his people. “You are beautiful as usual,
cariño.
I did not keep you long?”

“No, it’s fine.”

They sat down, and she slapped his hand when he scooted his chair around to her side of the table. She crossed her legs away from him but managed to raise her dress halfway up her thigh. Santi gave her an appreciative glance, and she blushed. She rested a hand on her leg, and he laid his over hers.

“Tell me everything about you,” he said.

“We should order.” She laid the flowers aside and reached for the menu. He took it gently from her hands and perused it.

“Do you like chicken or beef?” he asked.

“Both.”

He nodded. “Some American women, they eat like birds. Are you one of those?”

She laughed. “Um, no, not with this figure.”

“That figure, as you say, is everything I want.”

Della licked her lips. She reached for the menu again, but he moved it away. When the waiter arrived, she noticed he was of Spanish descent, whether Mexican or some other Spanish-speaking country, she had no idea. Santi recognized it as well and launched into Spanish. The two conversed back and forth, and she picked up just a few scattered words that sounded like their English counterparts.

Soon, the table was covered with a sampling of various dishes. She blinked at the spread. “I didn’t know they would do this. We can’t eat it all.”

“You taste some of everything, yes?” he said.

“You could have let me choose.”

He ran a finger along her cheek, and she shivered. “I feel I did not do right by you. I didn’t pick you up and bring you here myself.”

“But you brought me flowers.”

“A woman deserves much more than simple flowers,
cariño.
She should be spoiled and cherished.”

She lowered her lashes. “Is that what you tell all the women?”

“No other woman matters right here, right now. You are the only one.” He raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. She drew away and concentrated on her food. Santi had been serious about her trying everything. He’d placed a couple bites from each dish on her plate.

“I guess I can take the leftovers home. Uncle Leonard will eat it all in a couple days.”

“Uncle Leonard?” He seemed attentive as if he really wanted to know.

“My great uncle. He took my mother and me in when my father died. My mother passed a few years ago, so now it’s only me and Uncle Leonard.”

His face creased in concern. “I’m sorry. I wish I was here then to help ease your pain.” He kissed her hand again.

“It’s hard to take you seriously when you talk like that.”

“Do you think me insincere?”

“No. Yes. I’m not sure.”

“My people are very passionate. Family is everything. We understand loss and how much it can hurt, especially when it is the matriarch.”

“Oh.” She was an idiot for assuming. “I shouldn’t have judged you. I’m sorry.”

“No, you will learn to trust me. I have a lot of patience.”

She smirked at him. “The way you’ve been pursuing me it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Have I displeased you,
cariño.
You don’t like my kiss or my touch?”

“You’re kidding, right?” She decided to be honest. “The truth is I don’t have a lot of experience. I’ve dated a little bit, but school keeps me busy. When I’m not studying, I’m working. There’s no time for a man.”

“There must always be time for love. Love makes the world good, no?”

“Um, sure.”

He flung the word
love
around, but she knew he didn’t mean falling in love. As she looked into his eyes though, she knew in a different time and circumstances, she could fall for him. Hell, any woman could. What wasn’t there to love? He was gorgeous and rich. He thought about her happiness at all times, and the compliments never ceased. Maybe it was a part of his seduction, but he oozed charm. She had to admit, she liked it. He was different than any man she had ever met, exotic.

She straightened. “Tell me a little about you. I know you were friends with Bob when he studied abroad in Spain for a few years. What else? Are you married?”

Amusement brightened the topaz eyes. She could get lost in them. “No, I am not married.”

“Girlfriend back home?”

“I have had lovers. Like you, I am busy with work, but I make time for love.”

“You mean for sex.”

“Love,” he insisted. “Sex is a cold word, very impersonal.” He took her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers. “When you let me in your bed or come to mine, I will make love to you, not sex.”

Her panties must be ruined by now. “You’re killing me, Santi.”

“What does this mean? I’m killing you.”

She chuckled. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” She reached for her glass, and he rushed to fill it with more wine from the bottle the waiter had brought. Della knew nothing much of wine, but she guessed what they drank was a quality one. The taste was at first fruity and then ended with a slight oaky flavor. She enjoyed it and drank two glasses before Santi suggested she slow down a bit.

Embarrassed, she cast her gaze downward toward her plate. “I don’t drink much.”

“I won’t take advantage of you.”

She glanced up and believed him. Something told her Santi wanted the full participation of the woman he made love to, and she was struck with the realization she wanted it too and would probably say yes the next time he asked.

“Tell me something else about you,” she prompted to get herself out of her own head.

“I have two younger brothers in Spain.”

She tried to picture two other sexy Santi’s. “Damn.”

He grinned. “They are still in school.”

“Oh.”

“Matias and Miguel are fifteen, twins, born to my father from his second wife.”

“Second wife?”

“
Si
, my parents are no longer together.”

“I’m sorry.” She touched his hand, but he didn’t appear unhappy with what he shared. His words were matter of fact. She thought of her own parents and wondered if her father hadn’t been killed in a company accident would they have still been together after many years. With divorce so prevalent in America, she had her doubts. Her father’s dying had broken her mother’s heart, and she hadn’t been the same. At ten, Della didn’t know how to help because she had to deal with her own anguish. When her mother contracted cancer, she felt like God hated her. Eventually, she came to her senses with her mother’s help, who had encouraged her to follow her dream of becoming a lawyer.

Shaking herself from the dark memories, Della focused on Santi. “You have such a beautiful name—Santi Otero Varela. It flows off the tongue and is so sexy.”

He gave a low, rumbling moan at the word and leaned closer to her. She felt the warmth from his breath and tasted the sweet wine when he gave her a brief kiss. “Thank you,
cariño.
In Spain, children are often given both parents surnames. For example, Otero is my father’s first surname. Varela is my mother’s first surname.”

“Wow, that’s interesting. So you don’t just make up whatever you want?”

“Remember, I said family is everything. We love and honor those who have come before. However, things are changing. A new gender equality law has passed, allowing the order of the names to be reversed.”

Law. He spoke her language now. “Well, that’s progress, but I guess one would have to be born there or live among your people to appreciate it. I respect the differences from our ways.”

He nodded in acknowledgement. “I have the feeling you assume our women don’t stand on equal ground with the men?”

“No, I don’t think that.” She did.

Amusement lit his gaze. “Nowadays more women hold higher positions in business, but we are always conscious of caring for our women. Perhaps you aren’t aware, unlike America, in Spain the women receive four months of maternity leave after giving birth.”

She choked on her wine. “Four months. Paid?”

“
Si,
paid.”

“Hm, when I’m ready to start my family, maybe I should move there.”

He chuckled. “The man who will father your children will be very lucky.”

She smirked. “So not a conversation for a first date.”

“I agree. Let’s talk about what we are both interested in,” he teased.

She raised her eyebrows as if she didn’t get his meaning. “What’s that, sir?”

He dropped his voice low, his lips less than an inch from hers. A chill of delight raced down her spine, and he hammered the nail home with his suggestion. “You and me together—nothing between us.”

She wrestled back and forth with her decision.
Should I, shouldn’t I?
She’d said she would, but fear of the consequences rose up. Not only that. Santi must be a skilled lover. He’d have been with many different women and she just two men—men who were not that good in bed.

She bit her bottom lip as she considered his proposal.

Santi touched her lip with the tip of his index finger and brushed it across the expanse. Every ounce of willpower kept her from parting her lips and sucking on his digit. The way he looked at her awakened her sexual desire. He looked hungry, and she itched to feed him.