“Oh no,” Alexa heard the older woman groan.
She turned a questioning eye in the direction Joan was looking. Russell was signaling to Joan near a table piled high with heavy hors d’oeuvres.
“What is it?”
“He wants to make a toast, and of course that means one of his so-called funny stories about our married life.” She made a dramatic roll of her eyes.
Alexa smiled to herself. Although Joan acted as if she were embarrassed and annoyed by her husband’s anecdotal tales, she also knew how much Joan loved him and thought the world of him. Their marriage was rock solid despite their differences, and to the amusement of friends, they often bantered back and forth, giving each other a hard time.
Joan rose from the chair, but before she walked away, she said, “We need to get together for lunch one day to catch up. And definitely before that husband of yours whisks you away in two months to spend the next three years in Brazil.”
Alexa’s hand with the glass froze halfway to her mouth. “The next three years?”
“Yes. While he’s setting up the Latin American headquarters for Radiant Communications, darlin’,” Joan said matter-of-factly, as if it were common knowledge. Perhaps it was, but this tidbit of information was news to Alexa.
As Joan hurried away, Alexa scanned the room in search of Leonardo.
Leonardo was moving to Brazil for three years?
The sound of a metal fork clinking against glass drew Alexa’s attention to the center of the room, where Joan was standing, staring up adoringly at her husband. All conversations ceased, and the guests faced the couple celebrating another year of their happy marriage.
Russell Simpson lapsed into one of his stories, and Alexa half listened as she pondered what Joan had said. Leonardo was leaving for Brazil in two months. Sixty days.
A round of applause shook her from her ruminations and forced her to concentrate her attention on the celebration taking place in the room. She saw Joan bent back across Russell’s arm as he planted a passionate kiss on her lips. The romantic gesture made Alexa feel a twinge of jealousy, wishing she and Leonardo could have reached the thirty-year milestone in their marriage and share the kind of love Russell and Joan did.
She started. What was she thinking? She and Leonardo couldn’t share that type of relationship because their marriage was doomed almost from the beginning and was over even now. The excitement of being married to a powerful, rich, sexy man waned under the reality of day-to-day life.
He was no longer charming and playful. With work consuming all his time, her role became one of hostess and bed partner. There was nothing in between. The times she spent alone were a constant reminder of the mockery of a marriage she saw between her parents, and she had been determined she wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes.
The guests began to mill about again when the kiss ended. Alexa lifted her glass from the table to take another swallow before getting to her feet.
Intuitively, she sensed Leonardo’s gaze on her, and she caught sight of him near the entrance to the balcony. He was watching her, though he should have been engrossed in the conversation with the two other people with whom he was standing, one of which was the redhead. Even from that distance across the room, she could sense his desire for her, and there was an answering pounding of the blood in her veins as their gazes locked.
Maybe it was the kiss between Russell and Joan and the romantic notion of long-lasting love, but Alexa found her thoughts straying to memories of sharing passionate kisses with Leonardo. She carefully placed her glass of wine on the table before it slipped from her damp fingers and crashed onto the expensive white carpet. She felt nervous and jittery because she knew the reason for Leonardo’s smoldering scrutiny. She was fully aware what was expected of her, and she found herself breathlessly anticipating the end of the evening.
Leonardo came toward her, his lithe, graceful walk a surprise for a man of his size. The tuxedo jacket hugged his broad shoulders and fit his muscular frame like a glove. As he neared her, Alexa realized she was holding her breath. The undercurrent of sexual tension flared between them.
“Are you nervous?” Leonardo asked.
“Why would I be nervous?” Her voice came out breathy, husky. She cleared her throat.
Leonardo smiled knowingly. He must feel the same charge, know that she longed to be kissed and touched, despite being coerced into resuming her role as his wife.
He didn’t answer her question. “You haven’t eaten a thing all night.”
It was true, but how could he possibly know that? She didn’t have an appetite for much except the tall, dark man standing before her.
“I’ve had my eye on you all evening,” he said in response to the unspoken question.