Page 20 of LA King

“What?” I ask distractedly.

My men are no doubt disturbed by how quiet and still I am, but Julio knows better than to ask again. “They’re waiting for you.” He jerks his head toward Jax and Richie.

“Tell them to wait five more minutes. I have another call to make.”

Julio does as he’s told and I call Alana.

She answers on the first ring. “Hello?”

“Did you go shopping today?”

“I did. Thank you again for your card.”

“Did you get everything you needed?” I ask.

“Yep.” I can’t see her, but I sense her smiling on the other end of the line. So bubble bath, candles, ketchup, and candy are what she needs to feel at home? Perhaps I misjudged her—if only a little.

Or maybe she’s playing me. Whichever it is, I need to know more about my mysterious wife. “I’m taking you out to dinner tonight. Be ready at eight.”

“Dinner? Out?” She practically squeals with delight.

“We’ve been married for almost six weeks now and haven’t been seen in public together since. If I don’t take you out somewhere soon, people might start to think I’m holding you against your will.”

“Alejandro Montoya, did you just crack a joke?” The sound of her laugh makes my cock twitch uncomfortably. Something that happens all too often around her, and it’s the last thing I need before my meeting.

“Be ready at eight,” I snap.

“How should I dress?” The way she purrs the words does nothing to help my semihard cock situation.

How should she dress? “Sexy,” I answer, curious to see how she’ll interpret that particular request.

“Sexy it is. See you at eight.”

I end the call, and thanks to my own ill-thought-out request, my mind is filled with images of her in a tight black dress and heels. In those tiny fucking panties she sleeps in. The truth is she looks sexy no matter what she wears. She is fucking beautiful, and her curves make me harder than an iron bar.

I adjust my suit jacket so the evidence of that isn’t on full display in the lobby of my hotel.

The sooner I fuck this woman out of my system, the better.

Chapter

Twelve

Alejandro

Ishowered and changed at the hotel and am sitting in the car, waiting for Alana to make an appearance. It’s two minutes before eight, and I expect her to be on time. If she delays our departure by even a minute, I have no qualms about going in there and carrying her out of the house myself, no matter what state of undress she’s in.

I hate tardiness from others. It’s one of my favorite tactics to piss people off. I privately apologized to Jax for making him wait earlier today, but Richie got no such treatment. He fucked up a deal for us last month and is lucky he still has thumbs. Only the fact that he’s incredibly well-connected in Philadelphia, and that my Uncle Phillipe vouches for him, saved him from my wrath.

I’m still thinking about Richie when the front door opens and Alana steps out. I had no idea how she’d interpret my dress code request, but she has nailed it. Her curves are encased in an understated black dress that stops mid calf, showing off only a hint of her tan, toned legs. The dress is a halter, so she has no cleavage on display, yet she still manages to showcase every sinful curve of her body. She turns, probably to say goodbye to Magda, and reveals her bare back. The material stops right above the round curve of her ass.

Fuck me, she might be the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen in my life. My cock is already standing to attention, screaming at me to blow off dinner and eat her. To take her to bed and finally make her my wife for real.

What kind of panties is she wearing under such a tight dress? And how would she react if I tore them off her as soon as she climbs into the car?

My driver opens the door for her, and she pops her head inside. “Good evening, Alejandro.”

I reach for her hand, and her fingers curl around mine as I help her in. Her dress rides up a little, and I contemplate lifting the hem farther and checking out those panties I’m so eager to see, but I think better of it. I promised her dinner, and dinner is what she’ll get. And then maybe I’ll get to have dessert.