‘You are?’ she blurted, then cringed.
Seriously, get a hold of yourself!
One side of his full mouth tilted upward, although Suki didn’t spot a single scrap of mirth on his face. ‘Contrary to what is widely believed, it turns out that looking into the whites of someone’s eyes doesn’t guarantee insight into their true nature, but I still prefer that mode of communication.’
This time she caught a definite thread of bitterness, wrapped in thinly veiled fury. ‘Is...is something wrong?’ she ventured. ‘You seem agitated.’
The mocking laugh was unexpected. ‘Do I?’ he enquired lazily.
His tone grated, morphing, perhaps fortunately, her bemusement to irritation. ‘You find my concern amusing?’
Dark green eyes tracked her face, lingered on her mouth. ‘Is that what this thing is I’m sensing from you, little mouse? Concern?’
‘What else could it be? And I wish you two wouldn’t call me that,’ she replied sharply. ‘I’m not a mouse.’
His eyes narrowed again, the trace of distemper thickening. ‘Far be it from me to be as predictable as my brother. Rest assured, I will fashion a suitable moniker for you.’
‘Or you can use my given name, like everyone else, and just call me Suki?’
For some reason, the request made him tenser. He stilled, his eyes growing even more intense, scrutinising her from forehead to jaw to throat. ‘Sí. I guess I could, Suki,’ he rasped.
Her name rolled like an unexploded sensual grenade off his lips, tumbling to a charged stop between them. She stared at him, fighting to breathe, watched his gaze drop and linger for long, unnerving seconds on her mouth. Time ticked away. It might have been a minute. It might have been five. The noise of the pub receded but she could hear his steady breathing, feel the condensation from the glass coating her fingers, the cold a deep contrast to the fire burning inside her.
‘Are you and my brother involved?’ The question was grim and rapier-sharp.
‘Involved?’ she parroted, still caught in the grip of the electrical storm brewing between them. ‘I don’t know what—’
‘You wish me to be explicit? Are you screwing my brother?’ he demanded.
She exhaled in a horrified little rush. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Pretended outrage at my language isn’t necessary. A simple yes or no will suffice.’
Another healthy bout of irritation flared, saving her jumbled senses. ‘I’m not sure what’s up with you, but you obviously woke up on the wrong side of the bed today, so—’
The low curse was uttered in Spanish, but she knew it was potent nevertheless. ‘Indulge me and let’s refrain from the mention of beds and who woke up where for the moment, cara.’
She frowned. ‘Well, you’re sort of proving my point with that statement. Which begs the question why did you come here to celebrate your brother’s birthday if you’re in such a terrible mood?’
The skin bracketing his mouth pinched white as his nostrils flared. Suki watched, her spine stiffening with dread as his fist balled on the table. ‘Because I’m loyal. Because when I give my word I keep it. Because Luis trusts me to be there for him and it’s my duty to honour that trust.’
The icy fury with which he delivered the words robbed her of breath, but only for a moment. ‘I wasn’t questioning your loyalty or—’
‘You still haven’t answered my question.’
She shook her head, struggling to follow the mercurial swing of the conversation. ‘Probably because it’s none of your business.’
His fist tightened further. ‘You think it’s none of my business? When he treats you like you belong to him but you look at me with those gorgeous, greedy blue eyes?’
She gasped, her insides clenching tight with mortification. ‘I don’t!’
His laughter was mocking and cruel. ‘You pretended you needed the encouragement to acknowledge me, but your eyes haven’t stopped devouring me since I sat down. Fair warning though, even as much as Luis means to me, I don’t share my women. Ever. So a ménage à trois will be out of the question.’
‘I... God, you’re despicable,’ she replied, horror dredging through her, because he’d not only so easily witnessed the stupid feelings she’d been desperate to hide, but had also felt no qualms about calling her out on them.
‘Am I? Or are you just disappointed because whatever hot little scenario you concocted in your head has been rumbled?’
‘Believe me, I have no earthly idea what you’re talking about. And I’m sorry if someone misplaced a few of your billions or kicked your puppy because clearly something’s happened today to put you in this filthy mood. But, regardless of that, I should warn you that I’m two seconds from throwing my drink in your face. So unless you want a cold drenched body to go with that deplorable attitude, I suggest you shut up right now! And also, how dare you speak to me of sharing and...and ménages? Aren’t you engaged to—?’
‘Madre de Dios, how long was I away for?’ Luis slid into the seat and nodded thanks to the waitress who set the ice bucket and champagne flutes down. ‘Because I could’ve sworn it was only five minutes. And yet you two look like you’re about to come to blows? I’m surprised at you, little mouse.’ Although his tone was jovial, his eyes were shrewd as they slid from her to his brother.
Suki shook her head, unable to believe what was happening. ‘Trust me, I’m not—’
‘I was setting your girlfriend straight on a few things,’ Ramon interjected.
Luis’s eyebrows shot up, then he laughed. ‘My girlfriend? Where did you get that idea?’
Silence reigned at the table. Suki glared at her supposed best friend.
Ramon’s tight jaw eased a fraction before he shrugged. ‘Are you saying she doesn’t belong to you?’
Suki’s teeth clenched. ‘Excuse—?’
‘Sí, she belongs to me—’
‘Can you please stop talking about me as if I’m some ornament?’ she interrupted.
Ramon ignored her, his keen gaze fixed on his brother.
Luis’s lighter eyes narrowed. ‘Like a sister belongs to a brother who cares for her. Like a friend owns the entitlement of kicking someone’s ass if they so much as whisper a threat of harm her way. Like—’
‘Understood,’ Ramon said, his voice firm and grave.
‘Good, I’m glad that’s settled,’ Luis replied, then reached for the champagne.
Suki turned her head, met the newly gleaming gaze Ramon turned on her. ‘Is it? Is it settled?’ she hissed.
One corner of his mouth quirked, as if now his brother had explained he found the whole subject amusing. ‘I got the wrong end of the stick, it seems, gatito.’
‘Is that supposed to be an apology?’ she snapped.
A fleeting expression darkened his eyes. ‘Permit me some time to find the right words.’
Considering Ramon Acosta was lauded worldwide as possessing the Midas touch with every venture he turned his hand to, she found it impossible to believe he was lost for anything.
He’d single-handedly turned his parents’ half a dozen Cuban-based hotels into the world-renowned Acosta International Hotels chain while pursuing a private but deeply passionate artistic talent. When Svetlana Roskova had accidentally