Ignacio

On the tenth floor, she released a slow breath and walked behind her father to the condo, keeping her eyes on his close-cropped hair, which displayed a sprinkling of gray.

When they stopped at the door, her pulse kicked into higher gear, and her pink nails dug into her palms as she clenched her fists. Despite all that, she was ill-prepared for the stunning man who opened the door before they could knock.

Look up the phrase “movie-star good looks,” and there was bound to be a picture of Ignacio Santana in the search results. He stood shirtless in the doorway, wearing only a pair of red boxer briefs. Why was he dressed like that?

She quickly lifted her eyes from the way the material clung to his thick thighs and showcased his impressive bulge. A lit cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, dark stubble on his chin, and his hair tumbled over to one side in an array of brown and honey-blond curls.

His gray eyes met hers behind the sunglasses for a fraction of a second, and the world came to a standstill as she forgot to breathe. He’d always had that effect on her, from the first moment she’d seen him at thirteen. She thought he’d say something to her, but he spoke to her father instead.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Edward straightened his back. At six feet, he was tall but two inches shorter than Ignacio. “We want to talk to you.”

Ignacio removed the cigarette from between his lips. “About what?”

Edward sighed. “You know what, but you’re not going to make this easy, are you? I’m sure Yvonne told you we were on our way. We want to discuss the viral photo from the other night.”

“You came all the way here to talk to me? You couldn’t talk over the phone?”

“We were in town and thought it best to have this conversation face-to-face.”

Bracing his legs shoulder-width apart, Ignacio folded his arms across his defined chest. “I don’t want to talk to you, so you can leave. If you had called, I could have saved you a trip.”

“I think you should reconsider. This is a mutually beneficial agreement we’re proposing.”

“I don’t want anything to do with you—or her.” His eyes bored into Delta.

His words hit like a hammer to the heart. As she’d feared, this was a bad idea. But she would not allow him to see how his harsh words hurt. She straightened her shoulders and angled her chin higher, staring right back at him.

“Give me five minutes to lay out the idea, and if you’re not interested, we’ll leave,” Edward said.

Ignacio smirked. He knew that was a lie. Her father never gave up that easily. Holding the cigarette between his forefinger and thumb, he took a heavy drag and then blew the smoke in her father’s face.

To Edward’s credit, he didn’t cough or react at all, unlike Delta, who immediately covered her nose to keep the acrid smoke from invading her nostrils.

“You have five minutes.” Ignacio turned away from the door and walked deeper into the condo.

Delta gave a delicate cough as she followed both men inside. Goodness, the place was a wreck. Apparently, he’d had one of his famously wild parties the night before. Her gaze landed on a pink and gold stiletto, and something inside her twisted, forcing her to turn away. Ignacio was seldom without female company, and the owner of the shoe was probably buried under the covers of his bed, impatiently waiting for his return.

One of the drawbacks of ending a relationship with a famous man meant, at any time, she could be inundated with images of him enjoying himself with someone—someone who wasn’t her.

Ignacio stepped over some trash on the floor, and Delta’s eyes zeroed in on the letter “D” tattooed on his right shoulder blade in black ink. She had a tattoo in the same place, but it was an “I.” They had gotten the tattoos when they turned eighteen, during one of the periods they had reconciled. The ink was part of a recommitment ceremony they’d held in private.

Now that they were no longer together, it was ridiculous to have the initial of his first name on her body. Whenever she was asked about the letter, she always said the “I” stood for independence. Did he also lie and make up a story about what the “D” stood for? If so, what did he say? That it stood for Danger? Dedication? Destruction?

“Party last night?” Edward asked.

Instead of answering, Ignacio sat on the loveseat facing them, crossed his ankle over his knee, and spread his arms wide across the back of the chair. The cigarette rested between two of his fingers.

“I don’t suppose you’d consider putting on a shirt and pants?” Edward asked.

“Tick tock. Your time is running out,” Ignacio warned, looking like a sexy, swarthy-skinned vagabond with his half-naked body and unkempt hair.

Edward muttered something under his breath. “Here’s what I propose. You and Delta pretend you’re back together, using all the free publicity generated from your alleged reconciliation. Go on some very public outings, all to keep your name in the press and keep chatter going online about you.”

“Why would I join you in misleading the public?”

“Because it’s beneficial to you both. The first indie film you directed bombed, and from what I hear, you’re having a hard time funding your next passion project.”

The muscle above Ignacio’s left eye jumped several times. He’s furious.

“I can raise the money.”

Edward shrugged, strolled over to the window and looked at the city before he swiveled to face Ignacio again. “Maybe, eventually, but wouldn’t you rather do it sooner rather than later? All we have to do is negotiate the particulars of the ‘relationship.’ When we want it to end, which red carpet events you’ll attend together, talking points. This could be very easy.”

“Or very hard.”

“We can make it easy. Once we figure out the details, we get the lawyers involved to draw up the contracts.”

“If the public finds out we’re faking, you realize there could be a huge backlash, potentially destroying our reputations,” Ignacio pointed out.

“It’s in the best interest of both parties to keep this confidential, and, of course, an ironclad non-disclosure clause will be included in the agreement.” Edward made a theatrical pause. “What do you say, Ignacio? Are you in?”