Chapter 2
2
Alejandro
“ A re you staring at that ramera again?”
Scowling, I tear my gaze away from Shanna York as she crosses the room. Her sinfully short, silvery costume clings in all the right places and complements her cool complexion. But her brittle smile tells me she’s angry or upset…something. Instantly, I want to fix whatever distresses her until that smile is real.
“Mamá, you’ve been listening to gossip. We don’t know Ms. York well enough to comment on her character.”
In fact, I’ve only met Shanna once…and it didn’t go well. But I’ve looked enough to know I want her fiercely. Tonight, she’s tucked up her soft blond hair in a complicated yet demure twist. I’m already devising ways I can unpin it, run my fingers through it, and grip it in my fists while I devour her soft, bee-stung lips. Her blue eyes project not only a strength that draws me and a vulnerability that demands I protect her, but a repressed sensuality that makes me ache to fuck her until she screams. And the way she moves her killer body when she dances… Dios mío , she’s like watching sex set to music.
Mamá sniffs. “You know her reputation.”
Everyone does. She may give off ice princess vibes—the reason some, including my mother, turn their nose up at her—but I’m convinced Shanna hides her insecurities behind that facade. And I would love to see her melt for me. I want to know the real her.
My cock stirs, and I shift uncomfortably, grateful for the dim lighting of the ballroom. The crystal chandeliers cast a soft glow over the dance floor, the light shimmering off sequined gowns and polished shoes. The air is thick with anticipation and old money.
“Are you excited for tonight?” I change the subject as I guide Mamá through a gentle waltz. But my eyes follow Shanna like a man obsessed.
Probably because I am.
Fantasies fill my brain. I picture myself peeling away her glittering costume, revealing inch after tantalizing inch of creamy skin. I’m dying to take her to my club, Sneak Peek, tie her up with silken ropes and watch her body quiver with need as I tease her mercilessly. Would she moan my name as I stuff her pussy with every hard inch I’ve got? Would she get off wondering if others are watching her come undone under my touch?
The questions make me painfully hard.
Mamá sends me a disapproving stare. “ Mijo, there are other single women here, beautiful ones. Good Catholic girls.”
Yes, and I’ve met them all. They’re pretentious and vapid as hell.
“And yet you focus on the rubia .” Mamá sighs.
I love my mother, and I owe her everything. As a single parent, she endured and persevered through so much while she raised me. But guilt won’t convince me to give up on Shanna before I know how she feels under me.
I can’t put my finger on why she has me so captivated. Of course, she’s stunning, but I’ve been with beautiful women before. Lots of them. This...this is different. Somehow, she’s awakened a hunger I’ve never felt. And until I figure out why, I’m going to pursue her full-throttle.
“Mamá, enough. Tonight is about having fun,” I cajole, twirling my mother toward the bar.
As we pass the elegant chair where Shanna sits alone, I catch a whiff of her perfume—something light and floral with an undercurrent of musk. It takes every ounce of my self-control not to touch her.
Instead, I procure a drink for Mamá. When I’m sure she’s distracted, I make my way to the table with the dancers’ cards.
Resolutely, I fill them out, writing my name in every empty slot on Shanna’s. It’s impulsive and a bit extravagant. But I’m determined to have her.
As I hand over my credit card to pay for the dances, I wonder… Will she reject me again?
I glance Shanna’s way. Her gaze snags on mine. My heart lurches. I don’t care what she says. I intend to charm her, seduce her—whatever it takes—until I know why this woman has me so thoroughly intrigued.
With my plan in motion, I sidle close to my mother again. Smiling, I hand her a schedule of her dance partners for the evening.
As she scans the list, her eyes flare wide. “Alejandro! You spend too much money on an old woman. I do not need to dance so much.”
I hate that, until my father left us—and took his billions with him—he belittled Mamá until she stifled her own needs and made herself small. If the bastard was still alive, I’d tongue-lash him until he groveled at her feet.
“Mamá, you’re barely fifty, and you’re still a beautiful woman,” I insist, kissing her cheek. “It’s only money, and I have plenty of it. Enjoy yourself. You deserve it.”
She eyes me suspiciously. “And what will you be doing while I dance?”
I can’t help the slow smile that spreads across my face. “I’ll be enjoying myself, too.”
My gaze catches Shanna’s once more. My mother is too observant not to notice.
As if on cue, the emcee announces the start of the charity dances. I guide Mamá to her first partner, a distinguished gentleman—and former champion—who looks thrilled to have her on his arm. With a final wave, I paste on a smile and turn my attention to my true goal for the evening.
By the time tonight is through, Shanna will be mine.