A Scandalous Midnight in Madrid Page 5

  ‘But El Duque has insisted.’ Maria said this with a shrug as if that closed the matter.

  ‘Maybe just for tonight,’ Sadie conceded, ‘if that’s what he wants. I won’t be staying long,’ she added as Alejandro’s dangerously brooding expression flashed across her mind.

  ‘We love having visitors,’ Maria assured her, ‘and surely you won’t want to miss the party?’

  ‘The party?’ Sadie queried.

  ‘The big, annual party.’

  ‘I’d better be quick, and get down to the kitchen,’ Sadie said, already thinking that with a party looming and the catering involved, there was no time to lose when it came to investigating what she had to work with in the kitchen.

  Worryingly, Maria frowned. ‘El Duque orders in. He has never hired a chef before. The kitchens here are long-neglected. He flies in caterers whenever he needs them, and they bring their own equipment on the helicopter.’

  As fast as Sadie tried to absorb this, her mind filled with other questions. ‘So, how does he manage to eat when he’s on his own?’

  ‘I bring food from the village and he uses an ancient microwave to heat it up.’

  ‘A microwave?’ Sadie’s expression was one of pure shock. ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘Positive.’ Maria’s mouth pressed down, as if she shared Sadie’s concern. ‘I took delivery of the contraption myself when I first started working here. As for the rest of the equipment in the kitchen...’ She frowned. ‘I’m not sure if any of it works, as most of it hasn’t been used for years.’

  Oh, boy, thought Sadie, but Annalisa had begged her to come, and Chef Sorollo wanted those recipes, and she had no intention of letting either of them down.

  ‘These are your rooms,’ Maria explained as she turned a shining brass handle on a heavy oak door. ‘I hope you’ll be comfortable.’

  ‘I’m sure I will. Thank you so much.’

  ‘Don’t thank me, thank El Duque.’

  She would, but only with a good supper, Sadie thought.

  * * *

  Sadie, here...under his roof, just a few yards away. It seemed incredible, and was enough to throw him completely, hence his short temper. He hadn’t experienced a reaction like this to a woman for as long as he could remember, maybe ever. What was it about Sadie Montgomery, when she plagued him with challenges every chance she got?

  Normally so calm in the mountains, all his gypsy passion had come to the fore, turning him into a raging bull, so impatient to introduce Sadie to this other, very different part of his life that he couldn’t curb his feelings or the urge to see her again. But first, his sister had some explaining to do.

  Annalisa answered his call on the first ring. ‘Did she get there safely? Oh, yes...look, I got a text from Sadie saying she’s there.’

  ‘What are you playing at, Annalisa?’ he demanded.

  His sister hurried on, ignoring his question. ‘I’ve been so worried. The lift I arranged for Sadie didn’t materialise for some reason.’

  ‘Well, she’s here now,’ he said gruffly. ‘What I want to know is why.’

  ‘Why? To redesign the kitchen, of course, and to help you with the catering for the party... It makes perfect sense.’

  ‘Does it?’ Images of Sadie swinging from a tree sprang uninvited into his mind. ‘She’s out of her depth here.’

  ‘I doubt Sadie’s out of her depth anywhere,’ Annalisa argued.

  He grunted at this. ‘And when a quiet, reserved woman like Sadie Montgomery is introduced to the raw passion of flamenco, what then? Maybe I should send her home,’ he added, thinking out loud.

  ‘Because?’ Annalisa queried.

  ‘Never mind.’ Because flamenco in the mountains was an untamed, visceral force that threw people together, as it had thrown his parents together. Care for the people on his land had prompted his father to visit the flamenco camp, but it was Alejandro’s mother who had kept him there. There was magic in the mountains, his mother had told Alejandro when he was just a little boy. Things happened here that happened nowhere else. He’d felt that force, and he wasn’t ready to have his life turned upside down by a young female chef. His duties wouldn’t allow for the disturbance. Even this brief stay was an indulgence.

  Annalisa was silent, which was a first for her. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. The Prince, he thought, grinding his jaw.

  ‘Butt out of my life, Alejandro,’ Annalisa flashed as if reading his mind. ‘Get it into your head that I’m a grown woman and quite capable of making my own plans without submitting each of them for your approval. I love you very much, but, honestly, sometimes you take your responsibilities too far.’

  Was that even possible? he wondered.

  ‘Just be good to Sadie.’

  He stared at the receiver in his hand as the connection was cut. Shaking his head, he huffed an ironic laugh at the thought that he was besieged equally by beauty and by confrontation.

  Is that so bad a deal?

  He was about to pull away from the window when he spotted Sadie crossing the courtyard beneath him. She glanced up as if sensing his interest. He held her stare and dipped his chin briefly in acknowledgement. Was she smiling? He couldn’t tell.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ON HER WAY downstairs to investigate what she had been told was the ‘long-neglected’ kitchen, Sadie was shocked to find ‘long-neglected’ an understatement. Compared to the rest of the monastery, which had been renovated to the nth degree, this was a forgotten land. The staircase leading into the bowels of the building lacked any hint of glamour. It was like going back in time, Sadie thought as she ran her hand along the cold iron bannister. Rough-hewn stone steps had remained uncarpeted, and her footsteps rattled unnervingly as she descended into the shadows.

  Gothic overload, she thought as she opened a creaking door. The dank, uninviting space couldn’t have differed more from the sparkling, vibrant kitchen at El Gato Feroz. Outdated was putting it mildly.

  But even this unpromising start didn’t daunt her. Nothing was beyond repair. Her investigations uncovered a small elevator with ropes and pulleys to transport food safely to the upper floors, and a useful, if ancient, range. She could easily make do. Everything was well cared for, thanks to Maria, and there was no better way to find out exactly what was needed during the refurbishment than to get to work on the master’s supper right now. No senna pods in the cupboards, unfortunately, but Maria had provided an excellent selection of fresh food.

  ‘Not up to your exacting standards, I presume?’

  And breathe. Streaks of shock, excitement and wariness dashed through her in turn as she turned to face the doorway. Looking exactly like a dark angel in some Gothic story, with his thick, unruly mop of black hair catching on his ‘I don’t care to shave much’ stubble, Alejandro, still damp and glowing from a shower or a swim, was dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt that sculpted his incredible physique.

  With his hip propped against the door, he watched her with a brooding expression on his face. ‘How long have you been standing there?’ she challenged as her heart beat a crazy tattoo.

  ‘Long enough.’ He straightened up, and as he prowled a little closer, he frowned. ‘I believe I set a deadline.’

  ‘You did,’ she agreed. ‘It might have to be something cold. I haven’t tested the range yet, but I’m guessing you’re hungry.’

  ‘Always.’

  Why did every word he said appear to carry multiple meanings? Was her imagination guilty of running riot, or was animal instinct to blame? Whichever it was, quivers of awareness were running up and down her spine. Acting unconcerned, she began to prepare the food. There was nothing Gothic about the cleanliness of the kitchen. Everything was spotless, and the refrigerator was full of delicious cold cuts.

  ‘Make a list of anything you need,’ Alejandro said as she foraged for ingredients. ‘If you want hot food, th
e microwave is new, and seems to be working just fine.’

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I used a microwave.’

  ‘This is a private home, not El Gato Feroz,’ Alejandro informed her in a clipped voice. He didn’t take criticism well, she thought as they exchanged determined stares.

  ‘Am I going to eat tonight or not?’ he demanded.

  ‘Of course you are. The quality, however, will depend on how often you interfere.’

  There was a tense and incredulous silence. Risking a glance, she saw that his expression had switched in an instant from impatient to hard, but there was no way of avoiding him as he made himself comfortable on a chair at the small kitchen table.

  It took longer than usual to dish up an acceptable plate of food. She was still finding her way around the kitchen, while trying to avoid Alejandro! There was no answer to finding her way around his testosterone, unfortunately. He was such a potent force that his animal vitality washed over her whether she liked it or not. The kitchen was her territory, where she had always felt at home, but not this evening. She felt like a trapped animal and was bumbling around like a novice.

  There was only one answer to that. Take control.

  ‘Honey and lemon,’ she said after a few minutes, pressing a steaming mug into his hand, to give those big hands something to do. ‘To soothe your throat,’ she explained briskly.

  ‘My throat’s healed, Doctor, but thank you very much,’ he said.

  She knew he was mocking her, and almost flinched when their hands brushed. So, now he knew how powerfully he affected her. The knowledge pleased him, she gathered when she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes.

  ‘Delicious,’ he murmured, holding her stare.

  So, the Gypsy King was back. How quickly Alejandro could switch personas. He’d use whichever suited him in the moment, she guessed, which made him extremely dangerous, if only because she found both equally devastating. But this bad boy edged it, and they were alone.

  ‘Now feed me,’ he said, handing back the mug.

  Second contact gave him another chance to see her tense and gasp as their fingers brushed.

  ‘How do you like your eggs?’ And if I don’t break them over your head, I’ll cook them to your liking, she thought, smiling a pleasant, professional smile.

  ‘Cooked in the open air,’ he said with a shrug.

  ‘Don’t joke. It might come to that,’ she said with a glance around the dilapidated kitchen.

  ‘I’m not joking. Have you written that list yet?’

  ‘I’ve been busy preparing your meal.’ Lifting the plate, she practically shoved it in his chest. How she didn’t upend it over his gloriously handsome head remained a mystery. His brow quirked. His hard mouth almost smiled. Good. Maybe he’d got the message that she was a professional woman, not a doormat.

  Having cleaned his plate, he pushed it away and looked up. ‘Be ready to leave for the flamenco camp in the morning. Not what you expected?’ he asked when she remained silent.

  ‘Actually, no. I expected you to say thank you.’

  Fire flashed in his eyes. ‘We leave at dawn,’ he rapped, standing.

  ‘And my list?’

  ‘I’ll read it when I get a chance. But you have to write it first,’ he pointed out.

  ‘I have it logged in my head.’

  ‘And what will this new equipment cost me?’

  ‘Far less than eating out.’

  ‘You have an answer for everything, señorita.’

  ‘In my job I need to,’ she said.

  As she leaned over to take his plate, they almost collided. It was like a game of cat and mouse, and she had no doubt as to the role she was playing. She gasped out loud when Alejandro caught hold of her arms. ‘You seem determined to tease me, señorita.’

  ‘I can assure you, it’s entirely unintentional.’ Staring down at his hand on her arm, she waited until he released her.

  He did so, but then he drew her back again with a grip that was both gentle and compelling. ‘Put the plate down,’ he said.

  Neatly sidestepping, she put it in the sink. Turning, she found him behind her. She was sure he was going to kiss her. And he did. Politely, on both cheeks.

  ‘Thank you, señorita, for a delicious snack.’

  She could have kicked herself for being so naive. What an idiot to think he’d make a move. Alejandro was so much older and more experienced, he was just laughing at her. He knew what she was thinking and what she’d expected, and to think her feelings were an open book was almost more concerning than the prospect of a trip to a remote encampment in the mountains.

  ‘Be ready at dawn,’ he reminded her as he turned and walked away.

  * * *

  Back in his suite of rooms, Alejandro lifted his crystal brandy glass in a toast to a most satisfactory skirmish. Sadie’s disappointment when he’d kissed her on the cheek told him everything, but she was gutsy and defiant, and he liked that. He liked Sadie more and more. Guessing she’d still be in the kitchen compiling her list, he lifted the house phone. It took her a while to answer. He guessed she was probably exploring long-forgotten cupboards.

  ‘Hello?’

  She sounded surprised to hear from him. ‘Maybe I was a bit short,’ he conceded on the basis that a strong woman would fight him every inch of the way, and that it would be more pleasurable to extend that fight until it landed them in bed. ‘I just wanted to confirm that you have carte blanche to improve the kitchen—whatever you need will be helicoptered in.’

  ‘Thank you.’ There was a pause, and then she said, ‘You’ll have my list in the morning. I hope you’ve got a big helicopter, by the way.’

  ‘Enormous,’ he confirmed, deadpan.

  There was an electric silence, and then she asked, ‘Are you mocking me?’

  ‘Would I?’

  ‘Oh, yes, I think so. Is that all? Only I have work to do.’

  She was dismissing him? With a silent laugh, he bid her goodnight. Some might think him changeable depending on the circumstance, but Sadie’s unique blend of professional confidence and personal insecurity continued to intrigue him. The hunger to know more about her was growing by the hour. Once she was away from her duties in the very different setting of the flamenco camp, it would be interesting to see if she changed too.

  * * *

  Sadie had never seen a live flamenco show, let alone visited an encampment in the mountains devoted to the art. She didn’t know what to expect and was excited. Alejandro had explained as they set out on horseback that professional artistes came from all over the world to study at the camp so they could hone their craft and pass on the artistry.

  The steep mountain track finally opened onto a wider trail that led, in turn, to a surprising plateau that housed what she could only describe as a hidden city in the mountains, where gaily painted caravans had replaced the more traditional snow-white houses in the village. Deep caves were carved into a menacing rock face at one side of this heavily populated carpet of green, while craggy, snow-capped peaks clawed at the sky above them, but what surprised Sadie most of all was how warm it was.

  ‘The flamenco camp enjoys a microclimate,’ Alejandro explained when she asked the question, ‘which was why it was set up here.’

  The hidden city was a bustling place, and their arrival caused a great deal of excitement. The Gypsy King had returned from his travels, Sadie concluded as crowds began to mass along the way. She could see now where Alejandro got his good looks. The dark flashing eyes and glossy black hair of his people were unmistakable. He was one of them, imperious and proud with incredible bone structure. He had the same hawkish stare, chiselled features and stern, authoritative air. A group of men came forward to lead his horse into camp, and they talked in a language she didn’t recognise. Alejandro slipped easily into this new, exotic tongue. A Spanish duke, who was equally
at home in the mountains as in the salons of Madrid, with a gypsy princess mother and an aristocratic father. How could his history be any more fascinating? She almost preferred this rougher, far more dangerous-looking man than the polished Don, who all but ruled in Madrid. The downside was that she felt like a mouse in her jeans and nondescript top. If she’d known there would be such a welcome—she’d still be wearing jeans and a nondescript top. This welcome was for Alejandro, a man who made her senses riot.

  Tensing, she held her breath as Alejandro insisted on lifting her down from the horse. In those few seconds, she was aware of everything about him: his heat, his potency, his outrageous good looks and the warm, clean man smell he exuded.

  ‘Would you like to dance?’ he asked, noticing her staring at the stage.

  ‘Like this?’ She grimaced as she stared down at her workmanlike clothes.

  ‘Why not?’ He flashed a look that seared her from the inside out.

  ‘Better not. I’ll only tread on your toes.’

  ‘What I meant,’ he explained, ‘was, would you like to take a flamenco class?’

  He really was the expert in making her cheeks blaze red. ‘I have two left feet and no sense of rhythm,’ she said, recovering fast.

  ‘Have you ever put that to the test?’

  The expression in Alejandro’s eyes made his simple enquiry sound like the most dangerous suggestion. Her imagination working overtime again, Sadie conceded. ‘Okay,’ she said in the spirit of keeping things cool between them. ‘I’ll have a go.’

  ‘Would you like some help?’ Alejandro asked with the faintest of smiles.

  ‘I’m guessing I’m going to need some help,’ she said as her body begged her to let him try.

  Yet again, he had wrong-footed her. Calling to one of the attractive sloe-eyed beauties, he asked the woman to help Sadie learn the steps.

  The young woman introduced herself. ‘My name is Marissa, Sadie. Please come with me. I think you need an outfit first to put you in the mood.’