11. Alejandro
ALEJANDRO
IT WAS UNFORTUNATE that our annual masquerade gala happened to fall during Gabriel’s visit, because now he was convinced the party was being thrown in his honor.
Of course he would assume such a thing, vain as he was, and my mother had only encouraged that line of thinking before she left again.
If the prince cared about reality, he would’ve learned the gala was for Solterra’s Cultural Heritage Fund, to celebrate art and music, not to honor an incorrigible prince.
The grand ballroom at the palace had been transformed into a sensual Venetian evening, with hundreds of flickering candles and the massive Murano chandeliers set low, setting the mood with golden light.
Crimson and gold drapery cascaded between the towering, arched windows overlooking the sea as guests in elaborate Venetian-inspired masks danced in their impeccable tuxedos and jewel-toned gowns.
My own attire had been designed by Solterra’s premier fashion designer, and he’d fit the deep burgundy velvet tailcoat perfectly across my broad shoulders.
It was intricately woven with gold embroidery, matching the filigree of my dramatic black-and-gold mask, while my ivory shirt was left open down my chest, several gold pendants hanging from my neck.
It was a look that garnered attention from everyone in the room regardless of my title, but it had especially caught the eye of Gabriel earlier in the hallway as I was heading down, and he wasn’t exactly shy about letting me know he found me attractive.
I still couldn’t believe his audaciousness in front of my mother, or the fact that she thought my pursuing something with the pain-in-the-ass prince would be anything but disastrous.
We couldn’t even be in the same room without fighting.
I lifted my wine to my mouth as I looked out at the crowd from my perch on the throne, waiting for someone to stand out. The first dance would happen when Gabriel arrived—whenever he decided to grace us with his presence—and I needed to choose a partner.
“Your Highness,” Elena said, somehow still in full business mode even dressed to the nines to blend in. “There’s been a change.”
“Gabriel decided to go home early? This is a celebration, then?”
“Uh, no, sir, but it does have to do with the prince.”
Would there be a day anytime in the near future where my schedule didn’t revolve around him?
“Then I’m sure it can wait,” I said, still looking at all the masked men dancing nearby and narrowing down my options. Any of them could do, but no one was capturing my attention. Not until…
The music stopped suddenly, and trumpets began to blare as Gabriel walked inside the grand ballroom.
The sound was startling and unexpected, and I glared in the direction of the trumpeters, because what the hell were they doing announcing Gabriel like that?
The only entrance deserving of such fanfare was mine.
Like he knew exactly what my reaction would be, Gabriel looked over at me and winked.
He’d done this shit on purpose.
And what was worse was that, even through my annoyance, I still couldn’t take my eyes off him. His midnight-blue velvet tailcoat fit him to perfection, and the gold mask he wore accentuated his strong jaw and full lips.
Full, smirking lips.
He began to walk forward, in the direction of my throne, and the crowd parted for him as the trumpets ended and a soft murmuring carried through the room.
“Sir?” Elena said again, only this time there was an edge to her tone that should’ve tipped me off that she was about to say something I didn’t want to hear.
“I don’t like the way you said that.”
“My apologies, but it’s time for the first dance.”
Oh. Right. I knew that.
I stood up, glancing back at the men I’d been deciding between, but Elena moved in close, her voice low. “You have to dance with the prince.”
My head snapped in her direction. “I don’t have to do anything.”
“The queen insisted.” Elena at least had the sense to look guilty. “Before she left, she told Prince Gabriel you wanted to open the gala with the two of you having the first dance. To, uh, show camaraderie after the wine—”
I didn’t give her a chance to finish, my growl cutting her off, and she took a step back.
This was a setup.
Gabriel stopped at the foot of the stairs, waiting for me, and I debated my options.
One—I could walk right past him and choose a partner of my own, regardless of whatever my mother had planned.
Two—I could throw my wine in his face and start another scandal. This was the most tempting option, given my hand was being forced.
Three—I could suck it up and lead Gabriel around the dance floor and show everyone that the Valorian prince couldn’t keep up with me.
“Don’t even think about it,” Elena said under her breath when I didn’t make any effort to move. “Dance with him or your father will be sending you to Valoria to make amends.”
The thought made me recoil. There was no way in hell I’d ever be setting foot in Montclair Palace again, and for that reason, and that reason only, I made my way down the steps to Gabriel.
His smile grew wider, like he’d won a challenge I hadn’t even consented to. It was a good thing my mask covered half my face or everyone would be talking about my glaring him to death.
“Your Highness,” he said, his eyes roving over me appreciatively before meeting mine. “I’m honored you requested the first dance with me.”
“I didn’t.”
“I know.”
“Yet you’re here anyway.”
“I am. So you’d better take my hand, Alejandro. Unless you want everyone to talk.”
He was right. Damn him for that.
I slipped my hand into his, and the second our fingers touched it was like a match had been lit.
Flames licked up my skin, heating me from the inside out.
It was difficult to believe this was the first time we’d touched, especially after the night in the salle.
But as his warm fingers wrapped around mine, I had an instant vision of them wrapping around my—
“Careful, kitten.” Gabriel’s rumbly voice intruded on my treacherous thoughts. “The way you’re looking at me, people might think you want more than a dance.”
I angled my chin up. “You call me kitten again, I’m going to strangle you with my sash.”
“Kinky.” Gabriel’s eyes fell to the crimson sash with gold embroidery at my waist. “Personally, I think I’d enjoy it more as a blindfold or gag, but I could get behind a little erotic asphyxiation if that’s what you’re into.”
“If I dance with you, will you shut up?”
“Doubtful.” Gabriel caught me off guard then, tugging me in the final inch needed to wrap his arm around my waist. “But if you kiss me, I might.”
I jerked my head back to see his eyes twinkle behind his mask.
“No?” Gabriel flattened his hand against my back and brought me in tight to his large frame. “That’s okay. I have all night to convince you otherwise.”
“Do you have a death wish?” I asked, truly intrigued, because that was the only reason I could think as to why he was being so irritating tonight.
Irritating and infuriatingly gorgeous.
“No. But I have a sudden urge to taste something spicy.”
I was about to shove him away from me—to hell with the crowd—when the orchestra started up and he began to move.
Of course the bastard thought he was going to lead. He moved forward a step, forcing my foot back, and with the hold he had me in I didn’t have much choice but to follow. It was either that or cause even more of a spectacle by planting my feet on the polished floor and demanding he release me.
Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea. He’d have no choice then but to let me go.
But as he effortlessly moved us around the floor and I found my body relaxing into his hold, my legs matched his speed, and the graceful but strong way he directed our steps made me reluctant to end the moment.
It’d been a long time since I’d been led around the dance floor.
Most men assumed I preferred to be in charge, and they were right.
But as Gabriel’s legs brushed up against mine, guiding every move, controlling every decision my body was making, the annoyance I felt at the beginning of the dance morphed into something more alarming.
Desire.
Fuck.
Of all the men I could have—and there were many—why was it my dick had developed a sudden interest in my sworn enemy?
But there was no denying it.
My cock ached and my heart thundered as he spun us around the floor, expertly weaving us amongst the other partygoers, like they weren’t even there.
At one point the hand on my back disappeared long enough for him to spin me out and then draw me back into his space, then he slid his hand in under my jacket and let it settle on the curve of my ass.
I sucked in a breath at the touch, and he smiled. He’d heard, because of course he had, and as he pulled me flush against his body, it was all I could do not to rub myself all over him.
Jesus, what the hell was he doing to me? One minute I’d been planning his murder, and now all I could think about was his warm hand resting precariously close to my ass, and the fact that his body was hard…everywhere.
Something I was matching with every step he made us take. A brush of material here, a graze of his leg there, and when my eyes found his vibrant blue ones under the sparkle of the overhead chandeliers, I knew he was feeling it too.
“Alejandro…” he said, his voice stroking my dick as well as I imagined his hand would. That playful glint usually swirling in his eyes was replaced now with something darker, more dangerous, and I tightened my hand around his as I gripped his lapel. “Take me somewhere private.”
My entire body demanded I do as he asked, and I searched for the nearest exit, needing him closer, wanting to rub all over him, get off, and then send him on his way.
But then Gabriel moved to my ear and said, “Let me pet you, kitten,” and my desire to suddenly scratch his face off returned full force.
Maybe there was something to that name after all.
I shoved him back from me and extricated myself from his grip. My cock was throbbing, protesting my stubbornness—or my stupidity—as I glared at Gabriel, wishing looks could kill. Then the orchestra finished its piece, and I’d never been more thankful for the silence.
“I believe our dance is over, Your Highness.”
“So it is.” Gabriel’s eyes roved over me, but I refused to cover the hard-on that matched his.
For a second there I’d allowed myself to forget who he was and why I hated him.
But luckily for me, Gabriel could never keep his mouth shut long enough to let me fully forget. “I look forward to our next one.”
“There won’t be a next one.”
He smirked. “That’s a shame. I thought we moved well together.”
A little too fucking well, and that was the problem. But maybe I could deter him a little. Remind him I wasn’t some shy little kitten. “I move well with a lot of men.”
Gabriel slipped his hand into his pocket and nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard. Consider me intrigued.”
He couldn’t be serious with this. Whatever this was happening between us wasn’t going anywhere, no matter how much he eye-fucked me.
I moved back toward him, keeping my voice low but firm so he understood I meant it when I said, “Consider me uninterested.”
Then, before he could provoke me anymore, I disappeared into the crowd, off to find another hot body to enjoy the next dance with.