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‘Good point,’ Cerys said and smiled back at him, trying to relax as he led her through the dark hallways of thecastillotowards the sound of exuberant music, the buzz of conversation and the clink of champagne flutes.
Night had fallen a few minutes ago, signalling the beginning of the Fiesta, the cooler evening air a necessity for any social event in Catalonia during the summer months.
Cerys released the breath clogged in her lungs as she and her ‘date’ entered the stone gallery above thecastillo’s magnificent central courtyard. Festooned in fairy lights and decorated with lavish floral arrangements, the space below was already filled with guests—men in lightweight designer suits and women in summer gowns in vibrant colours which made them look like colourful butterflies or extravagant peacocks. The red glow on the horizon was iridescent as the sun finished its descent over the rolling patchwork of vines as far as the eye could see. Bougainvillea climbed in flamboyant splendour up the castle’s stone walls—and the scent of the flowering vines filled the air with redolent perfume. Delicate, perfectly spiced tapas were being served on silver trays—along with glasses of thecastillo’s famed cava—by liveried wait staff. Cerys knew the kitchen had been working on the feast for days. A Latin band added the rich vibrant rhythms of the Catalonia rumba. The dancefloor set up under the trees at the edge of the courtyard had several couples on it already, dancing to the infectious beat.
The tension making Cerys’s stomach jump and jive with the music relaxed.
‘Wow,’ she murmured, captivated by the laughter floating in the air, despite the formal setting. It was all so romantic and exciting, something to tell her grandkids about one day. She hoped.
‘You approve?’ Alejandro asked.
‘It’s…’ She sighed. ‘It’s stunning. Your home is so beautiful.’
‘Notmyhome—thecastilloand the vines belong to Santiago,’ he said, surveying the scene. The hollow tone made Cerys wonder what the story was with the De Montoya brothers? Why weren’t they close? Perhaps it was their very different personalities. Santiago was so serious and responsible and forbidding. While Alejandro, on the other hand, was so debonair and charming and defiantly shallow.
‘El Duqueis welcome to this cursed place,’ he murmured. ‘But anyway,’ he said, a practised smile curving his lips as the dark expression lifted. His gaze roamed over her. ‘Thecastillois not as beautiful as you are.’
Cerys smiled, flattered by Alejandro’s easy charm—which was so unlike his brother’s rigid judgement. ‘Why, thank you. I bet you say that to all the girls,’ she quipped.
He chuckled. ‘I see my reputation precedes me,’ he replied, the devil-may-care twinkle back in his eyes.
Even on their ten-minute acquaintance, Alejandro De Montoya Lopez was everything Cerys had expected him to be—tall, dark, dangerously handsome, impossibly charming and even more of a handful than his sister.
But for some reason he did not stir her senses the way his older brother did. His amusement, though, at Ana’s machinations was helping to calm the explosion of nerves when he had appeared in the doorway to Cerys’s sitting room instead of Ana, and announced he had been blackmailed into escorting her to the Fiesta.
She had already felt way too exposed in the dress which Ana had insisted she wear. A stunning sky-blue chiffon creation which flattered her figure—but was too tight in the bust—and silver heels which clicked on the stone steps as Alejandro led her down into the courtyard.
‘By the way, just to be clear, this is totally not a date,’ Cerys said, scanning the crowd to find Ana—who had probably gone into hiding after her latest stunt. ‘I don’t expect you to stay by my side tonight. I really don’t want to cramp your style.’ Although, from the industrial strength flirtatiousness she had already witnessed, she suspected not even a new ice age would be able to do that. ‘I’m not even supposed to be here.’
‘And miss the chance to annoy my brother? No chance,’ her non-date replied, his gaze fixed on something across the courtyard.
Her stomach started doing the rumba again when Alejandro escorted her into the courtyard and the other guests began to notice their arrival. While the women and even some of the men only had eyes for Alejandro, she felt hideously exposed—and out of place.
‘I just hope he doesn’t spot me gatecrashing his party,’ she said, crossing her fingers behind her back.
‘Too late,’ Alejandro murmured. ‘It seems Ana was right about Santiago wanting you all to himself. Either that or he has just swallowed a bee,’ he said, then wrapped his arm around Cerys’s hips to draw her to his side. ‘Let’s make this convincing,’ he whispered, nuzzling her ear.
She shuddered when he kissed her neck, so shocked by the unexpected contact, and the sudden shift from amused to seductive, she couldn’t process what was happening before the crowd parted and Santiago appeared from nowhere.
‘I thought we agreed, Andro,’ the Duke announced, his voice tight with anger. ‘The staff are off-limits.’
Her boss looked magnificent, because of course he did, in a tailored designer suit. Clean-shaven and with his hair trimmed, his patrician appearance—that air of dominance and demand—was even more controlled than usual, but for the stark expression and the muscle twitching in his jaw. Disturbing arousal rushed over Cerys’s skin as his scalding gaze raked over her, but then his statement registered. The brick in her abdomen plummeted towards her toes as she became painfully aware of the guests nearby—who belonged at his fiesta, unlike her—watching and listening and whispering behind their hands.
The nerves in her stomach tangled into a tight knot and the last of her confidence dropped off a cliff. She was staff, he’d just made that abundantly clear. She should never have agreed to come.
Alejandro raised his hands, palms up, in a defensive gesture, but the mocking tone was anything but when he replied. ‘Don’t be such a bore,hermano.’ He chuckled, but his laugh had a brittle edge. ‘Cerys isn’t staff tonight, she’s with me.’
‘I should leave,’ she whispered, wishing the flagstones could open up and swallow her whole, but no one seemed to hear her, even though Santiago’s furious gaze remained locked on her face.
‘What’s the problem, Santiago?’ Alejandro piped up, the charming smile becoming caustic. ‘Couldn’t get your own date, so now you want mine?’
The shocked gasps from the crowd echoed round the event, feral and excited, while mobile phones appeared from nowhere to document the scene unfolding.
Cerys stepped away from Alejandro’s side, still far too aware of Santiago’s fierce gaze riveted to her face. He didn’t even seem to be listening to his brother. Because all his attention—all his fury—was focused on her.
Why was he looking at her as if she were the only person here? It was unnerving, and disturbing… And weirdly exhilarating, but not in a good way.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured. But as she turned to flee, Santiago stepped forward and grasped her elbow.