5. Gabriel #2
“Is that so?” Alejandro leaned back in the carved wooden seat and eyed me. “Because I think I just lost my appetite.”
“Really?” I pulled out the seat opposite him and sat, ignoring the fulminating stare he aimed my way as I leaned across the table and plucked an olive right off his plate.
“Then you won’t mind if I try some of your food.
” I popped the olive into my mouth then waggled my brows at him.
“Now I can see why you wanted me to tour the Royal Olive Archives this morning. So salty and tangy. Solterra produces such rich delights. The olives, the grapes for the wine…” I gestured to his goblet. “May I?”
Alejandro arched a brow, and I decided to take that as a yes. I took a sip, and when I went to put it back in front of him, he shooed it away.
“Keep it.” Then he gestured in the air and one of his footmen magically appeared from out of nowhere. “Please bring up an extra place setting. It seems His Highness has not only forgotten his way to dinner but also his table manners.”
“Not at all,” I said, smiling up at his footman. “I just believe in sharing the bounty of my riches with friends.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“Not yet.”
“Not ever,” Alejandro muttered, but then turned to his footman. “Por favor, trae los pimientos fantasma también.”
I caught none of that except for pimientos, and wouldn’t have been surprised if he was saying I was as hot as one. He had to have noticed, just like I noticed him—because one thing was for damn certain, Alejandro was even sexier speaking his native tongue.
“Sí, senor.” His footman bowed slightly then hurried off the terrace, and Alejandro pushed his plate away.
“You’re not going to eat that?” I asked.
“I am,” he said, his eyes shifting to the juicy pork on his plate. “But it’s missing a little heat for me. If you’d like to try it—”
“No. No.” I shook my head, and finished the last of his wine. “I want to try it the way you, a local, thinks it tastes best.”
“Alone.” Alejandro plastered on the fakest of smiles. “It tastes better when eaten alone.”
“You know, you really need to get over this aversion you have to me. I can’t help that my face looks like my brother’s. Just like you can’t help that your face is…”
Alejandro’s eyes all but dared me to finish, and I grinned.
“…perpetually scowling. I don’t judge you for it.”
“My face didn’t publicly humiliate yours by announcing to the world I was not good enough.”
I winced and then pointed to the carafe. “You need some more of this?” I lifted it to refill the goblet. “It seems like you might.”
“What I need is for the Valemont brothers to leave me in peace.”
“That’s not actually on the table right now. But maybe after a shared meal”—I gestured to the lavish spread—“you might be one step closer.”
The door to the terrace opened and his footman was back carrying a tray that held an extra plate, silverware, and goblet, plus a small basket of bright red peppers.
Alejandro thanked him, and then the footman’s eyes found mine and he gave a slight smile. I returned it, pleased the rest of the staff must’ve told him I wasn’t a stickler for niceties, then watched as he disappeared from wherever he had come.
“You run a very polite household.”
Alejandro said nothing as he loaded up the second plate much the same as the first, and it took everything I had not to pick up the wine carafe and guzzle it down. At the rate this conversation was going, I was starting to think the dinner downstairs might’ve been more entertaining.
“You can’t ignore me forever, you know that, right?”
“I can until you leave. And that’s good enough for me.” He picked up a small blade from the basket and began to finely chop the red peppers, then sprinkled some on his meal before looking to me.
“I’ll take mine the same,” I told him. It was clear that this, like every other move he’d made today, was a game to him. An effort to send me running. But I’d eaten peppers before. Just because I was Valorian, didn’t mean I couldn’t handle something a little spicy.
In fact…
I trailed my eyes down to the open V of Alejandro’s shirt and couldn’t help but think I’d like to try something a whole lot spicy.
Alejandro shoved the plate over to me and poured himself another goblet of wine. When it was clear he wasn’t about to serve me, I did the same and then picked up my glass.
“Should we toast to something?”
“No.”
“So, to good health and friendship.”
Alejandro gave a slow, diabolical smile. “May you have neither.”
I rolled my eyes, took a sip, and then picked up my knife and fork, determined to make the most of the beautiful meal in front of me, despite my less-than-engaging host.
The golden skin was crispy as I took the first bite, followed by the incredibly juicy and tender meat inside. It was absolutely delicious. I swallowed it down and was about to compliment Alejandro’s chef when something started to happen.
A sweet and spicy heat began on my tongue—the peppers.
It lingered there for a second, the flavor morphing from sweet to a little bit hotter, like that of a mild pepper, and just as I was about to go back for seconds, a searing, needlelike fire began to overwhelm my mouth.
I coughed a little, my eyes getting blurry as I sniffed and looked across the table. Alejandro was lounged back on his chair with his wine in hand, his meal untouched.
Bastard.
“Wha…” I swallowed, trying to get some kind of relief, and reached for my wine. “What is that?” I guzzled down the glass I’d refilled as Alejandro took a slow sip.
“What is what?”
I blinked, my nose starting to run, my throat convulsing. The fire trailed down to my now-raging stomach. “Those.”
I pointed to the basket where the hell peppers sat. Alejandro leaned forward and picked one up by the little green stem, twirling it between his fingers.
“Oh, these?” He grinned at me like a fiend. “They’re Bhut Jolokia. A ghost pepper.”
My eyes and nose were running like a faucet as Alejandro pushed to his feet and looked down at me.
“You said you wanted to try my meal the way the locals eat it.” He cocked his head. “What’s the matter, Your Highness? Can’t handle the heat?”
A sudden coughing fit overtook me, my entire body doing its best to reject the pepper. He was enjoying this way too much.
“Aw, don’t worry. These symptoms only last about five minutes. But the next thirty are going to be very uncomfortable for you. I suggest you go and lock yourself in your room.” He swept up the wine carafe and walked toward the door. “This won’t help you. But I’ll have my staff bring you some milk.”
He pulled open the door and then took one last look at me all but dry-retching on my shoes.
“Maybe next time you’ll think twice about intruding on someone’s meal. Have a good evening, Your Highness.”
Then he disappeared, leaving me to die in peace out there on his beautiful rooftop terrace.
Alejandro: 1
Me: 0