‘I was relieved to have my hair unfastened—that style felt as if it was pulling it out by the roots. And you were kind enough to help me …’ she managed when he didn’t speak but simply sat there, his face half in shadow, half in light, clearly waiting for her to continue. ‘And—obviously it was a relief …’
‘Obviously,’ Santos confirmed sardonically.
And then he waited again. Waited for her to go on, to fill the silence that had descended. But there was nothing she could say, nothing that would not condemn her even further in his eyes, or make her look even more of a fool than he clearly already thought her.
‘And that’s it.’
‘Of course it is.’
The cynical drawl made it so obvious that he didn’t believe that was it at all. And seeing the way his glittering eyes swept over her, seeming to sear off a much needed protective layer of skin cells, made Alexa shift uncomfortably in her seat, a sensation like cold pins and needles prickling its way down her spine.
‘Anything more is strictly in your imagination.’
The way he inclined his head in what looked like agreement but actually said exactly the opposite was positively the last straw. She couldn’t sit here like this any longer, seeing the dark amusement in his eyes, listen to the taunt in his voice.
‘And now I’d like to go back to the hotel.’
Pushing herself up from the bench, she got to her feet. Or, rather, she tried to get to her feet. But she had forgotten the way that her feet had been aching, the painful pressure that her shoes had put on her toes and heels, which was why she had kicked them off as soon as she had sat down. Freed from the cramped tightness of the leather, her feet had swollen and the raw spots were now fully exposed. As she tried to stand on the cool tiled surround, the force of her own weight only made things so much worse, so that she couldn’t hold back a yelp of distress as pain shot through her feet and made her close her eyes in distress.
‘What the …’
From behind her eyelids she sensed rather than saw the way that Santos got sharply to his feet, his hands coming out instinctively as she swayed, almost dancing on the spot to avoid putting any more pressure on the soreness of her heels and toes.
‘What is wrong?’
‘My feet …’
It was all that she could manage through stiff, taut lips that she had clamped tightly shut in order to hold back the weak whimper of distress at the pain. And when she opened her eyes to look up at him, seeing what looked like genuine concern in his shadowed face, the hope of saying anything more slipped right away from her in the blink of an eye.
‘Pies?’ Santos glanced down, apparently noticing for the first time the fact that she was barefoot, with her shoes tossed over to one side, almost hidden underneath the bench. ‘Here—sit down again.’
Strong hands pushed her back onto the seat and she sank down with a sigh of relief as the movement took the pressure off her feet and enabled her to lift them up slightly, taking them off the ground once again.
‘Let me see …’
Alexa could only blink in confusion and disbelief as in a stunningly graceful move Santos went down on one knee before her. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest as he leaned forward and picked up both feet, cradling them softly in his hands as he angled them towards the light. His touch was cool and gentle, soothing to the raw patches on her skin.
‘Madre de Dios!’ he cursed under his breath, the angry sound reaching her in the stillness of the night. ‘What has happened here?’
The change of mood from the taunting of just moments before was so swift, so unexpected that it made her head come up sharply. And it was only when she saw how the outline of the moon had blurred so unexpectedly that she realised that sudden moisture was swimming in her eyes in response to the gentleness of his tone.
‘My shoes …’ she managed through a voice that was thick with the effort to hold back the tears. That earned her a swift, searching upward glance at her face as Santos caught the rough sound.
If he showed any sympathy, if he was kind, then it might just finish her, Alexa admitted to herself. After the mocking attack earlier, just the thought of it made her head spin.
‘Your shoes!’
To her relief his tone was far from kind. He sounded coldly angry, disbelieving, appalled even. ‘You wear shoes that do this to your feet?’
Blinking hard, Alexa peered down at the foot he was holding up for her to see. The damage was far worse than she had anticipated, she acknowledged reluctantly, wincing inwardly at the sight. Her skin was rubbed red raw, the pattern of the straps almost etched into her skin, and there were spots here and there where the pressure had actually been so great that it had taken off the surface.