Undeniable

Santiago came to the door. She tried not to pay him any attention, but ended up lifting her gaze, against her own will. He stood with his shoulder casually resting against the jamb. Sans coffee, of course, which confirmed what she’d already known—that he’d only come into the break room to pester her.

The pink shirt he wore under the blue jacket was open at the top, revealing his throat and the flash of a gold necklace with a cross pendant, which she couldn’t recall ever seeing him without. On his right hand, currently tucked into his trouser pocket, he wore a gold rope bracelet and a gold pinky ring. Santiago was all about flash, from his impeccable grooming to the tailored clothes covering his lean body.

In contrast to his bronzed skin and black hair, his eyes were a captivating color—gray and pale, with hints of blue—appearing soft at times when he was in a good mood, but easily turning cold in anger or frustration.

Without a tie and coupled with his dark Latin features, he fit right into the Miami scene, looking like a man on vacation instead of a top executive for one of the most successful restaurant groups in the country. Quite an accomplishment for a man only thirty years of age. Abena couldn’t argue he was good at his job, but she wished he’d stay away and let her do hers.

She set down her cup and glared at him, arching a brow. “Yes?”

“Have you heard from Martina Esposito’s people yet?”

The Argentine pop star would be in Miami next week for two nights, on the last leg of her world tour. In the past, she’d arranged a farewell dinner for her assistant and other close members of her entourage. This time, she’d expanded the number to include her dancers, drivers, and others traveling with her—which resulted in her renting out the entire restaurant for over three hundred people.

“Emilio and I have everything under control,” Abena said, referring to the general manager. Normally, the GM would have handled the entire booking, but everyone understood the importance of this engagement. With the assistant manager out on leave, and because of Esteban’s exacting standards, Emilio had pulled Abena in to help as a second pair of eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with me asking questions.”

“Then maybe you should direct your questions to Emilio.”

“I’m directing them to you.”

“Your questions are completely unnecessary. This is not how Esteban works. He does not micromanage us.”

“I’m not Esteban.”

“You’ve got that right,” Abena muttered.

“I get the feeling you don’t want me here.” Santiago’s eyes hardened, but managed to be enticing with their long-lashed, sultry appearance.

She sent him her best fake smile. “You must be psychic.”

“If I were psychic, I would have known what a sneaky little liar you are.”

So he wanted to fight. The inflection in his voice didn’t change a bit. He used the same pleasant tone while lashing her with his words.

“The only liar in this room is standing at the door.” Abena crossed her legs and affected a pose of relaxed indifference.

“What exactly did I lie about?”

Nothing. She was the one who’d lied to herself, convinced she was ready for a casual affair, when clearly she hadn’t been.

Santiago laughed softly. “Just as I thought, you’re projecting.”

“I really don’t care what you think. Please run along. I have work to do.”

“Run along?”

He laughed softly again, which meant he was extremely aggravated. It was a trick he used to calm his anger, because Santiago was all about calm and charm. Charming workers. Charming business associates. Charming women with commands like “Take off your panties.”

“Is that how you talk to your fiancé?” he asked. “The poor man doesn’t get any respect, does he? Or maybe he doesn’t know how to handle a woman like you.”

“He knows how to handle me just fine. Every. Night. As many times as I desire.” She flashed him a disingenuously sweet smile and hoped he didn’t see clear through to the huge lie she just told.

His mouth lifted at one corner, but his eyes turned to gray steel.

“You like doing that, don’t you? You like rubbing my fucking face in it.” The smile disappeared as quickly as it arrived, and his mouth tightened with the same tension that arced through the room.

“Much as you hate me reminding you of my relationship, you keep bringing it up. Don’t you have someone else to bother? I’m busy.”

Abena shifted her gaze to the computer screen and double-tapped the spreadsheet on her desktop. Seconds later, she became conscious of Santiago moving away from the door and walking toward her.

Her gaze snapped to him. “What are you doing?”

He rounded the corner of her desk.

“I said, what are you doing?” Abena asked, louder this time. She scooted back in the wheeled chair and bumped into the wall. Her stomach tightened in panic as she looked up at him.

Santiago slammed his hands on the armrests and brought their faces within inches of each other. He leaned in, that sinfully delicious mouth of his close enough to bite.

The pit of her stomach trembled at his nearness, while his aftershave filled her nose and made her nostrils quiver. The fragrance held remnants of mint and notes of pine. Masculine, very male, and pure Santiago.

Abena stopped breathing as his gaze dipped to her bosom and stayed there so long, a faint ache blossomed between her thighs. He couldn’t see anything—she was completely covered by the silk blouse—yet she felt bare. Naked, as if he’d loosened every button and revealed her lace-covered breasts.

His gaze slid back to her eyes, and a smirk emerged on his sensual lips. “Oh Abena, querida,” he purred, intensifying the ache in her loins. Swallowing, she kept her face expressionless, staring right back at him. “Why do you hide behind your diamond, pretending you’re happy?” His lip curled in distaste as he glanced down at the ring on her finger.

Abena curled her hand into a fist on her lap. “I’m not pretending.”

One large foot slid between hers and forced her knees apart, his eyes boring into hers. She drew in a sharp breath, reminded of the position she’d been in on his desk two years ago in Argentina. When he’d spread her legs and put his mouth right there. The flesh between her thighs quivered at the memory.

“Not pretending? We both know that’s a lie. Sadly, you’re in denial. You accepted his ring, but we know the truth, you and I, don’t we? When you wake up next to Dr. Appiah, you’re filled with regret and disappointment, no? And you know why, don’t you?” He paused, his eyes glinting into hers. “You’re going to make me say it? Okay, I will. You’re filled with regret and disappointment, mi amor, because no matter how perfect he looks on paper, when you’re lying next to him, the only thing you can think about, is me.”