Lawmakers (5 page)

“You’re not even going to check?” Stephanie demanded.

“Later. I’m busy, Steph.” Della gave her a pointed look. “Can you excuse me?”

“Really.” The woman huffed and stomped away. As soon as she was out of sight, Della tore the card from its place nestled among the roses and ripped open the envelope.

Cariño, I miss you and me together. Business has kept me from you, but not for long. Wait for me. – Santi.

She sighed. Okay, so she knew he was in America to buy a company or sell it or whatever. Maybe she should give him some leeway. Her heart fluttered, and she groaned.
Calm down, Della. It’s not serious. Just sex.

She heard his voice the moment she thought of the word.
“I will make love to you, not sex.”

An unbelievable longing came over her. The flowers he had given her on their date were at home still blooming, and now he had given her more. She counted them. There had to be two dozen. How the heck was she supposed to carry these with the heavy vase they came in and her briefcase? Leaving them where they were wasn’t an option because Stephanie would not be the only person all in her business. Even Bob was likely to ask. Should she admit to seeing Santi? She didn’t want to, not yet anyway. There was no guarantee just because he sent flowers they would see each other again.

At the end of the day, she stood corrected. Tired and cranky, Della prepared to leave. She shut down her computer and searched under her desk for the shoe that had gotten away from her. When she straightened, two men stepped off the elevator, and both smiled in her direction. Her mouth fell open, and she imagined she heard the female purrs as the two of them headed her way.

Oh hell no. This isn’t happening.

Brent and Santi stopped at her desk at the same time and then glanced at each other. Santi dismissed Brent as quickly as he acknowledged him with a nod and a smile. Then he reached a hand out to Della. “
Cariño,
I am here. Are you ready?”

“I don’t recall us setting anything up,” she said.

Brent stepped forward. “Hey, Della, I thought we’d grab a pizza. You said you have that test on Monday. I can help you study.”

“Um.” She blinked between them. Her body strained toward Santi, but it was true. She did have a test and was so not prepared. If she didn’t do well, her grade might slip, and that wasn’t an option.

Still, somehow her hand ended up in Santi’s palm, and he kissed her fingertips. She had to admit it had been nearly a week since they’d made love. Della stood. “Brent, this is Santi. Santi, this is my friend, Brent.”

“Friend?” Brent repeated, his forehead creasing in annoyance, but he stuck his hand out.

“Good to meet a friend of Della’s,” Santi boomed. He grabbed Brent by both shoulders and drew him close to kiss first one cheek and then the other. Brent tore himself loose and scrubbed the back of a hand over his face.

Della choked back a laugh. “Sorry, Brent, that’s their way. He didn’t mean anything by it.”

Santi apologized. “I forget you are not the same here. The men of my country are very secure in their manhood even if they are gay.”

Brent’s face went beet red. “I’m not gay, and I’m plenty confident in my manhood!”

This time Della had to crack up. She held her stomach, and pressed a hand to her mouth. Tears formed in her eyes, and she wiped them away. Insult seemed to ooze from Brent’s pores. He glared at her, and she patted his arm.

“I’m sorry, Brent. I shouldn’t have laughed. Of course Santi isn’t saying you’re gay. The difference in culture takes some getting used to.”

“You’re saying you’re used to it?” he demanded. “You introduced me as a friend, but what is
he
?”

“Her lover of course,” Santi chimed in.

Gasps rose all around the floor, giving Della payback for laughing at Brent. She’d never hear the end of it.

“Wait, the flowers were from
him
?” Stephanie appeared out of nowhere. “Della, you knew I—” She broke off what she’d been about to say, and her fair skin reddened as much as Brent’s had.

“Stephanie, it’s not like that.” Della felt no compulsion to tell the woman that when she shared her interest in Santi, the man was already calling Della on the phone and making propositions.

“Beautiful Stephanie,” Santi said, “this isn’t the place for such a conversation. No?”

Stephanie pinked more and folded her arms beneath her chest, but she clamped her lips together.

“He’s getting fresh with her right in your face, Della!” Brent reached between the two to grab Della’s wrist and dragged her to him. She pulled at his hold, but he tightened it.

“Ouch, Brent. Stop.”

In an instant, Santi had her freed, and he stood between her and Brent. “You never treat a woman that way. She called you friend, and you hurt her? Back down, now!”

Stephanie gaped, and Della felt her mouth fall wide open too. She had to admit she liked Santi’s defending her. She didn’t think he was exactly getting fresh with Stephanie. He was always kind to women. Period. If he had been with them both, Stephanie wouldn’t have appeared so put out. Della knew the woman thought she was the best looking thing in the office. She’d overheard her say as much in the ladies bathroom and dismissed it because she could care less about Stephanie’s vanity.

“I would never hurt Della. I’ve known her a lot longer than you.” Brent stepped closer to Santi. “Get out of the way so I can talk to her for myself.”

“You will not,” Santi snarled back.

“Both of you!” Della grabbed Santi’s arm and tried to move him. She might as well have tried to shift a bulldozer. His thick arm didn’t give an inch. She leaned around him to look into his face. “Please, Santi.”

Right away he backed off, and the anger in his visage a second ago disappeared. Della moved around him to press a hand in Brent’s chest. His eyes widened in surprise. “Della, I’m sorry.”

“Go, okay?” she said. “I’ll call you later.”

“What about the test?”

“I’ll be fine.”

“This isn’t like you!”

She glared at him, and he hitched his shoulders. “Fine, I’ll go.” He glanced at Santi, disgust transforming his face. Della guessed jealousy ate him up, but he had no right to get an attitude because she had introduced him as a friend. That’s just what he was and nothing else.

When Brent got on the elevator, she found her shoe, gathered the rest of her things, and practically dragged Santi onto another elevator. Relieved they were the only two occupying the space, she spun to face him. “Next time call first. I don’t appreciate being put into that kind of situation. You might be able to run around doing whatever pops into your head, but I can’t. I’m an employee here with no clout. I don’t want my job threatened. Got it?”

Santi stood watching her in silence. She couldn’t tell by his expression what he was thinking, whether angry that she read him or what. After a moment, he reached out to take her hand. Unlike how Brent had manhandled her, Santi’s touch was gentle in its firmness. He drew her to him, one arm circled her waist to trap her there. She opened her mouth to protest, but he covered it with his own. Before she could stop it, a moan escaped her, and he used the opportunity to slip his tongue into her mouth. When the bell dinged for the first floor, he released her, and Della fanned herself to come to her senses. A woman couldn’t stay mad at a man who kissed like Santi.

He held the elevator door open while she passed by, and he walked at her side. A black limo stood at the curb outside, and she resisted jumping to conclusions, assuming it waited for Santi. However, Santi rested a hand at her lower back to guide her toward it. The driver snapped to attention and opened the door for them. Della’s belly did flip-flops.

“Señor y señorita,”
the driver said,
“regreso al hotel?”

Della could guess what the man said. Talk about jumping to conclusions. She frowned at Santi once he’d helped her inside the vehicle, but his smile remained in place. “No.” He said something rapid fire and folded into the limo beside her.

“What happened to the Porsche?”

“My friend needed it. This seemed more convenient.”

“A limo is more convenient?”

“I don’t have to waste time looking for parking,” he offered.

She chuckled. “Yeah, okay, I’ll go for that. Where are you taking me?”

“Your place to change, and then to dinner.”

“Hold on there. I don’t know about us going to my house.” She wasn’t ready to deal with Santi and Uncle Leonard after Santi and Brent.

Santi’s gaze swept her from head to foot, taking in the rumpled blouse and boring skirt, she imagined. The shoes she’d chosen that morning weren’t all that cute. They were more for comfort, even though she’d still kicked them off beneath her desk the first chance she got. She winced, not liking him seeing her this way.

“You are always beautiful. Please, if you want to stay as you are,
cariño.
I am fine with it.”

She grunted. “Fine. Take me home.” She held up a finger. “But don’t get into it with Uncle Leonard or else the date’s off.”

He held up a hand as if swearing in. “I will be on my best behavior. For you.”

Della eyed him, wary, and then grinned. She settled into his side and nuzzled her nose against the base of his neck. His warmth and delicious scent seduced her, and she forgot all her worries with one hungry kiss.

Chapter Five

“She’s a little young for you, isn’t she?” Bob asked.

“Oh?” Santi glanced up from the paper he perused. His old friend sat across from him on the deck at Bob’s house. Santi had to admit he missed Della. Her scent, her face, her body, the tinkle of her laughter, everything about her set him on fire. He hadn’t yet burned through the hunger he felt for the cocoa beauty, and here his friend was telling him she was too young? “You won’t interfere now that you know, will you?”

Bob waved a hand. “Come between you and your latest conquest? Not on your life. Been there, done that, and it wasn’t fun. You love women more than you love business, but I admit…” Bob hesitated. “I don’t like to see you use Della. She’s a good girl, and she’s got a good future ahead of her.”

Santi frowned. “Who says I’m using her? There’s hardly any age difference. I admit she’s not lived her life, being in school, but I’m thirty, and she’s twenty-five. That’s not such a big difference among adults. The most important part is that we are having fun. I pleasure her, and she pleasures me. There is nothing wrong with it.”

Bob swallowed the contents of his glass and set it down too heavily on the table. “All the women in the office are angry with her.”

“You flatter me, old friend.”

Bob shrugged. “Just don’t hurt her.”

“That is never my aim.”

While they chatted about business, Santi’s mind wandered. Bob was partially right. He loved women,
almost
as much as he loved business. He gobbled up new ventures regularly, and women were not so different. Yet, Della, sweet, sexy Della, drove his desires out of control. He wanted her every night. He craved to lie between her legs and take his fill while making her scream his name. The problem was business did not allow it. Today, spending a couple hours with Bob was an exception. Too many times, he had to delay when he could see Della again, but each time, his hand never stopped reaching for the phone. He had to see her when he could, and that didn’t always please her.

While she was on his mind, he shot off a text to her. He slathered on the compliments because he never wanted her to forget her perfection and how much she pleased him. He ran through his mind the many ways he would return the favor as soon as he saw her. The only thing that distracted him from this plan was the ping of a returning text.

“Laying it on thick today, Santi?”

“I am always sincere,
cariño
. I promise.”

“I know.”

“I wish to see you,
hoy o mañana
.”

“You don’t give me any warning. I’m supposed to jump when you call.”

“You must do only what makes you happy.”

“No limo.”

“No limo,”
he conceded.

“And I choose the restaurant.”

“Very well.”

“Good. I’ll see you tonight. You can pick me up at my place.”

“Your wish is my command.”

* * * *

Santi arrived at Della’s house in a rented car, an ordinary one. He preferred a sports car, but he wanted to please her. She didn’t like the pretentiousness of the limo, as she described it. Several times before he had come to her house, and from that first night things hadn’t gone very well. He did his best to stay quiet, and he had resisted offering Della’s uncle his usual greeting. Still, it hadn’t been enough to ingratiate him with the man. Santi squared his shoulders and drew himself to his full height before approaching the house. He rang the bell.

Why am I nervous? I have met with heads of countries in my time.

The door opened, and the old man with a shock of gray, uncombed hair stood before him. “Oh, it’s you,” he said in a grating tone, “the pansy boy.”

Santi clenched his jaw. The elder generation was to be respected. He didn’t like biting his tongue. “Good evening,
Señor
Hayes.”

“I told you don’t be speaking that Mexican talk here!” He stepped back and allowed Santi to come inside.

“Uncle Leonard!” Della rushed into the room, and Santi forgot his offense from the moment he saw her. “I told you Santi is Spanish, not Mexican. He’s from Spain, and I don’t appreciate you insulting him as if he’s somehow less than us. It’s racist. No one deserves that.”

“Is there a difference?” her uncle insisted, but then he relented. Santi saw the hard expression soften a little when he faced his niece. “Well he keeps you out at all hours, and he doesn’t care about your school schedule. He’s got his money and doesn’t care about your future.”

“That’s not true,” Santi said.

Della grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door. “Don’t listen to him. Let’s just go. I don’t want a headache before we get out of here. See you later, uncle. I probably won’t be home tonight.”