Chapter 20 Marfil #3
I still had to get dressed and put on that damned hat, but my face looked smooth as alabaster under the foundation, and my eyes were extra green thanks to the mascara, which had taken my already long eyelashes to unexpected lengths.
I used the red lipstick that my sister suggested, but only dabbing it onto my lips very lightly so that it looked a little more natural. When I put on the dress and heels, only one thought came to mind: What would Sebastian think when he saw me dressed like this?
I didn’t have to wait long to find out, since he was standing beside the car along with my father, who was smoking a cigar as he waited for me to come down.
When I stepped out of the front door, they both turned to look at me.
My father’s gaze held admiration and pride, though not fatherly pride, more like when he bought himself a new Ferrari that made him feel like he was better than everyone else.
Sebastian, on the other hand, looked dazzled, as if he hadn’t expected to see me that way.
I walked down the steps toward them. “The hat itches like crazy, so I don’t plan on wearing it until we get there,” I said, waving it like a fan, “and the heels are super uncomfortable, Dad. They might’ve cost you a fortune, but they’re already rubbing blisters.”
And the bubble was instantly burst. My father frowned in disapproval, his normal reaction to me, and Sebastian tried to suppress a smile.
We got in the car, and I realized that Sebastian wouldn’t be riding with us as he climbed into the passenger’s seat of Logan’s car.
“Who is that?” I asked, looking back at the four well-dressed men, including Sebastian—My God, he looks so good in that jacket and tie!—who were following in an SUV.
“I hired additional security,” my father said, taking out his cell phone as we turned onto the same road where we’d had the accident the day before.
He spent the entire ride talking to someone named Malcolm, and I got so bored that I fell asleep in the back seat until my father shook me awake once we arrived.
Someone opened the door for me, and I immediately felt ridiculous when my eyes landed on the crowd of people entering the racecourse, understanding that the custom of dressing up for the races was a thing of the past. Most of the people there were wearing blue jeans and sneakers.
But when we reached my father’s private balcony, his social circle was as snobby as he was, and my attire suddenly made sense.
Rows of seats were positioned up front with a great view of the racetrack, and glass doors at the rear opened onto a room furnished with sofas facing a gigantic TV, where servers endlessly passed trays of champagne and canapes.
I began to feel nervous when I noticed Sebastian was nowhere in sight.
After scanning the space, I finally spotted him on the other side of the room, looking around with a stern expression.
He even had one of those earpieces in his ear.
He was all bodyguard that day, and I hated that he had to stand in the shadows, leaving me surrounded by people I didn’t know and had no desire to talk to.
As I was lifting a glass of champagne to my lips—I needed to get a buzz if I was going to survive the evening—my father came over to me, flanked by two very tall and attractive men.
“Marfil, let me introduce you to Emilio and Marcus Kozel,” he said, pointing to each man in turn.
The older man, Emilio, was obviously the father of the younger, more handsome one, Marcus.
I held out my hand as my gaze lingered involuntarily on Marcus Kozel.
He was very good-looking… and he seemed intrigued by me as well.
“This is my daughter Marfil, whom I’ve told you so much about, Emilio. ”
“And you did not do her justice, my friend,” Emilio said, taking a step forward and shaking my hand with an amused smile.
I turned toward Marcus and shuddered involuntarily.
“They told me you were very pretty, but I thought they were exaggerating,” he said, kissing my gloved hand instead of following his father’s example and simply shaking it.
His hair was very dark, like mine, and he had startlingly blue eyes that left me with a strange feeling when they rested on me.
“People tend to exaggerate,” I said, grateful to have my hand back.
Marcus smiled and continued to openly stare at me as if I were a work of art. I had always felt uncomfortable receiving attention from men like him. Although I had to admit that this one was uncommonly handsome.
“Your father told me what happened yesterday with your car,” Emilio Kozel said, bringing our attention back to him. “I can’t believe anyone would want to harm a single hair on your head. I’m sorry you’ve had to go through something so traumatic.”
“You don’t need to be sorry. The idiot who thought they could kill me is the one who’s going to be sorry, sir,” I said, blushing as I realized I’d shown my anger in front of a total stranger.
Marcus laughed loudly. “She does have a strong personality, Alejandro. I thought you were exaggerating there, too.”
My father smiled and sipped from his glass, then said, “It’s impossible to exaggerate when it comes to my daughter, Marcus.”
“Would you like to take a walk with me, Marfil?” Marcus said, looking first to my father, as if we needed his permission.
“Sure,” I answered automatically, hating that he thought I couldn’t decide for myself.
“Go on, go on. We old men have to talk business, unfortunately,” Emilio Kozel answered, smiling.
Marcus offered me his arm and I took it, verifying that under his perfectly tailored navy blue tweed jacket and khaki pants was an athletic body in perfect physical condition.
He was older than me, probably around twenty-nine or thirty, but he was so attractive that it didn’t matter.
In reality, he seemed to be around the same age as Sebastian, who was staring at Marcus with an unfriendly expression.
Hmm, this could be interesting.
Apparently, Marcus didn’t seem overly interested in the races because he led me out of the private balcony and outside to the fields surrounding the racetrack. I didn’t know if we were allowed to be there, but he assured me it was fine.
“My family all but keeps this place running, so don’t worry, we can do whatever we want.”
As he said this, I saw that four bodyguards trailed behind us, Sebastian and Logan among them, maintaining a good distance but glancing all around to ensure everything was in order.
Marcus noticed me looking at them and sighed. “They’re annoying, I know. Your father told me that you don’t like having a bodyguard,” he said as we strolled over the freshly cut grass, enjoying the open air.
“I don’t like having someone with me everywhere I go, no,” I answered, relieved to be able to talk to someone who understood how horrible it was to have their privacy hijacked.
“If you were mine, you’d have five of my best men guarding you at all times.” He stopped and looked down at me. “As attractive as you are, you’re begging for trouble.”
I stopped short and stared at him in disbelief. “You talk about me as if I were an object that can be owned,” I answered, rage beginning to flare up inside me.
Marcus seemed surprised by my response. “Please don’t misinterpret my words,” he said, placing his hands on my shoulders.
“I just meant that, considering everything that’s happened over the past few months…
you know, the kidnapping, the car…” I tensed, and he went on, “You should have the best security in the world, Marfil.”
“I do have good security. Sebastian Moore is in charge of it,” I answered proudly.
Marcus’s eyes darted to Sebastian for an instant, and he raised his eyebrows. “I know him… Good man, they say.”
“Who says?”
Marcus seemed to regret having let that comment slip. “Tell me about yourself, Marfil,” he said, abruptly changing the subject and ignoring my last question. “Your name, for example… Why Marfil?” he asked with an amused smile.
I shrugged, thinking of the last person who’d asked me the exact same question. “My mother chose it… Apparently my skin was very pale when I was born,” I settled on, not wanting to elaborate further as I had with Sebastian.
Marcus looked me up and down before placing a hand on my heated cheek. “Great nations have gone to war over women like you… You could be this century’s Helen of Troy,” he joked.
I found the comparison amusing; no one had ever complimented me using a reference to Greek mythology before.
“I always felt sorry for her,” I said.
“You sympathize with a woman who would leave her husband for another man?”
“I sympathize with a woman who was forced to marry against her will and instead fled with the love of her life, yes.”
“You’re a romantic, then,” he said, lowering his hand, starting to walk again.
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in love,” I answered.
Was that still true?
“Well, we’ll have to remedy that,” he said, stopping under a tree near the stables, where the guards couldn’t see us. “Have dinner with me; it’ll be a date,” he said, staring as if dazzled by me.
The man piqued my curiosity. He was incredibly handsome, charming, and sure of himself. Why not have dinner with him?
Sebastian appeared in my thoughts just then. But he had made it clear that nothing would ever happen between us. I was tired of pining away over him when deep down I knew he was right. I deserved to have passionate romance, didn’t I? Could Marcus Kozel be my Prince Charming?
“I’ll think about it,” I said.
His expression shifted at my response. I imagined he was accustomed to having his offers immediately accepted.
“I get the feeling I’m going to have a lot of fun with you, Marfil Cortés.”
Something in his blue eyes told me that his definition of fun would be very different from mine.