story was a dangerous drug lord. The country had watched their courtship unfold through paparazzi photos and media interviews, and their wedding would have been a gilded, lavish dream. Little wonder that Théa’s shocking death threw all of Medellín into mourning, their beloved pop princess meeting a tragic, senseless end.
Medellín had forgotten about Ilda in the aftermath, focusing instead on Pipe and his grief, and for that she would always be grateful. She’d always been the harmony to Théa’s melody, the steady support to Théa’s wild ways. Of course it was Théa who’d fallen in love with the most dangerous man in the world, and of course it was Théa who had been his most vocal proponent, citing all of the good Pipe had done not only for their city but their country, as well. He had been her hero, and he’d adored her for it.
Ilda didn’t adore Pipe. She saw him for exactly what he was, had always done even when Théa was alive. But somehow, despite her lack of blinders, she had let her guard down with him. So much so that...well. The glittering platinum-set engagement ring on her third finger said it all, didn’t it?
“I do trust you.” Scooting her chair away from the table, she held out her arms. “All right, hand over our hair-dressing princess. I see you sneaking glances at your phone—I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to do.”
“You have no idea,” he said mildly as he stood, moving around the table to deposit a wriggling Arlo in Ilda’s lap. “But all that work is what makes this possible.” Cupping her face in his capable hands, Pipe bent and pressed his lips to hers in a quick, affectionate kiss that ratcheted up the anxiety stuttering her lungs. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, his face hovering close above her. “When are you going to let me back in your bed, querida ?”
She released a tense breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. “Felipe...”
Crouching down in front of her, Pipe settled a hand on her knee, the other on Arlo’s. “Six months. It’s been six months since we made love, and I’ve respected your wishes on this. I know I made a mistake.”
“You slept with another woman.”
“A mistake, Ilda. How long will you punish me for this?” His phone vibrated against the hardwood tabletop, but he ignored it in favor of staying at her feet, suit jacket open and collar unbuttoned in a way that just screamed Money and Power. At age forty-four, combined with his lean swimmer’s build and his darker mestizo coloring, if he hadn’t been a criminal, he would most certainly be listed as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that he’d surrendered to temptation and had drunken sex with one of the desperate young things that swarmed the cartel-owned clubs like flies.
That didn’t mean she had to tolerate it, though. “I’m not trying to punish you,” Ilda murmured, honestly. “I just keep wondering if you wouldn’t be happier as a free man.”
“Never.” He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, his thumb toying with the engagement ring. “You and Arlo are my happiness.” There was something so earnest in his gaze. “I want to come back to you, Ilda. You know I won’t stray again.”
She didn’t know that, and in all honesty, she doubted he’d stay faithful if they married. She was a placeholder, a poor substitute for the woman he would have promised his everlasting fidelity to. Théa. “Let’s get through this dinner first?” And perhaps by that time, she’d know what she planned to do about Casí—Casey—too.
“That I can do.” Pipe smiled up at her, pleased. “What are your plans for the day, querida ?”
“A meeting with the Ladies Auxiliary at the church.” That she was dreading, but her feelings, positive or otherwise, had nothing to do with why she chaired the event committee with Medellín’s nosiest wives. “The Ascension Day charity auction is Friday night.
Medellín had forgotten about Ilda in the aftermath, focusing instead on Pipe and his grief, and for that she would always be grateful. She’d always been the harmony to Théa’s melody, the steady support to Théa’s wild ways. Of course it was Théa who’d fallen in love with the most dangerous man in the world, and of course it was Théa who had been his most vocal proponent, citing all of the good Pipe had done not only for their city but their country, as well. He had been her hero, and he’d adored her for it.
Ilda didn’t adore Pipe. She saw him for exactly what he was, had always done even when Théa was alive. But somehow, despite her lack of blinders, she had let her guard down with him. So much so that...well. The glittering platinum-set engagement ring on her third finger said it all, didn’t it?
“I do trust you.” Scooting her chair away from the table, she held out her arms. “All right, hand over our hair-dressing princess. I see you sneaking glances at your phone—I’m sure you’ve got plenty of work to do.”
“You have no idea,” he said mildly as he stood, moving around the table to deposit a wriggling Arlo in Ilda’s lap. “But all that work is what makes this possible.” Cupping her face in his capable hands, Pipe bent and pressed his lips to hers in a quick, affectionate kiss that ratcheted up the anxiety stuttering her lungs. His thumbs brushed over her cheekbones, his face hovering close above her. “When are you going to let me back in your bed, querida ?”
She released a tense breath she wasn’t aware she’d been holding. “Felipe...”
Crouching down in front of her, Pipe settled a hand on her knee, the other on Arlo’s. “Six months. It’s been six months since we made love, and I’ve respected your wishes on this. I know I made a mistake.”
“You slept with another woman.”
“A mistake, Ilda. How long will you punish me for this?” His phone vibrated against the hardwood tabletop, but he ignored it in favor of staying at her feet, suit jacket open and collar unbuttoned in a way that just screamed Money and Power. At age forty-four, combined with his lean swimmer’s build and his darker mestizo coloring, if he hadn’t been a criminal, he would most certainly be listed as one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. She wasn’t the least bit surprised that he’d surrendered to temptation and had drunken sex with one of the desperate young things that swarmed the cartel-owned clubs like flies.
That didn’t mean she had to tolerate it, though. “I’m not trying to punish you,” Ilda murmured, honestly. “I just keep wondering if you wouldn’t be happier as a free man.”
“Never.” He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, his thumb toying with the engagement ring. “You and Arlo are my happiness.” There was something so earnest in his gaze. “I want to come back to you, Ilda. You know I won’t stray again.”
She didn’t know that, and in all honesty, she doubted he’d stay faithful if they married. She was a placeholder, a poor substitute for the woman he would have promised his everlasting fidelity to. Théa. “Let’s get through this dinner first?” And perhaps by that time, she’d know what she planned to do about Casí—Casey—too.
“That I can do.” Pipe smiled up at her, pleased. “What are your plans for the day, querida ?”
“A meeting with the Ladies Auxiliary at the church.” That she was dreading, but her feelings, positive or otherwise, had nothing to do with why she chaired the event committee with Medellín’s nosiest wives. “The Ascension Day charity auction is Friday night.
Similar Books
