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I glanced over as I made the turn, finding it impossible not to smile. “You’ve never been to Madrid before?”

“It’s been a long time. What I’m surprised about is the fact you actually know how to drive a car. I thought you were driven everywhere.”

Snorting, I slowed the car, pulling under the awning of the hotel. “You’ve seen me drive before.”

“I thought it was a mirage.”

“I’ve been driving since I was ten.”

“Ah. You’ve been an illegal junkie your entire life.”

I kept the engine running as I unfastened the seatbelt and leaned over, gripping her chin between my fingers. “You’re in a feisty mood tonight.”

“It must be your aftershave. Muskrat with a hint of olive oil.” She squeezed my thigh on purpose before opening her door.

“A little brat.”

“Yes, I am. The Four Seasons. That must have set you back a euro or two.”

“Well worthwhile for what I’ll get in return.” As I leaned over, her breath caught. I’d managed to surprise her again.

“I guess we’ll see about that.” The sinful tease raked her hand down my chest to my groin, flicking her index finger across my already throbbing cock.

Rolling my eyes, I exited the vehicle, immediately buttoning my jacket before handing the valet my keys. “Manténgalo estacionado al frente.”

“Yes, sir.”

He’d been ordered to keep the vehicle close to the front.

As I walked to the trunk, I scanned the area. The reservation was private, the hotel staff paid well to keep it that way. However, contrary to what I’d told Kruz, I wasn’t willing to take much of a risk. Perhaps I was fooling myself that this would solidify our tenuous relationship.

Or maybe I was lying to myself again and I required enjoyment of her company. I grabbed the bags and we strolled into the hotel together, my hand kept firmly on the small of her back.

While she threw me her usual look at my chauvinistic action, this time there was a spark in her eyes. It didn’t take me much time to check in. The woman standing behind the reception desk knew better than to waste my time with questions or cutesy little comments about our attire.

Yes, we looked like a bride and groom but looks could certainly be deceiving.

My bride watched me intently the entire time, the smirk on her face one that could rival mine.

“Let me guess,” she cooed when we stepped into the elevator. “The penthouse.”

“Only the best will do.”

As soon as I unlocked the door, she pushed her way inside, immediately heading toward the French doors leading out onto the balcony.

I dropped the bags, closed and locked the door, unsnapping the holster and pulling the weapon into my hands. After I finished checking the four rooms, I noticed she was standing in the doorway with her arms folded.

“Worried there are monsters under the bed?”

“Being careful is a necessity.”

Frowning, she glanced around the suite. “Why Madrid?”

“Why not?”

“Just curious.” She left the doors open and headed for the fully stocked bar. “You invited the president of the government to our wedding.”

“And he accepted with his lovely bride.”