and Italian shoes would stay anywhere else. Unless he had a huge mansion on the beach, just like his parents did. Their beautiful properties were often featured on the news for hosting charity functions.
The fact that it was past six in the evening made her feel silly for praying it was a maid, but with panic threatening to render her incoherent, she had to keep a hold of her marbles and find a way out of this mess. Surely if the infamous Mr Castillo caught her, he’d chuck her and her friends out of his hotel. Ice laced the blood in her veins as trepidation washed through her.
Not to mention the paparazzi would have a field day with the story. She’d be Alexa Green, the wild-child streaker who’d gotten herself thrown out of another classy establishment. She shuddered. No way was she going to let her last single girlie holiday with her best friends end that way.
Alexa’s mind whirred as she thought of a way out of it. Given the choice, she’d rather face the idiot whistlers than this. The lift shuddered to a halt and she edged to the back. Her bottom met cold metal, but it did nothing to cool the heated blood pounding through her veins. Watching the doors slide open, she felt the ones behind her do the same. For a brief second, she froze as two male voices bid each other goodbye in Spanish. They weren’t in sight yet, so she slipped out the opposite side of the elevator and darted around the wall.
Trying to calm her breathing, Alexa took stock of her surroundings. With her heart galloping faster than a race horse, she noted that she wasn’t in an entrance hall as she’d originally expected. Nope. She’d walked straight into the Castillo penthouse. The thump of metal signalled the doors closing. She held her breath.
The slap of shoes hitting the cold, granite floor had dread knotting her stomach. Mr Castillo hadn’t left. Alexa struggled to breathe evenly. If he was here, calling the elevator back up would make enough noise to alert him to her presence. But that couldn’t be the only way out.
If she was right, no one would rely solely on one escape route in a hotel this grand, not with the risk of fires and electrical failure. Safety officers wouldn’t allow it. There must be a stairwell leading out, she just had to find it and slip away unnoticed.
The sound of the footsteps drifted away, followed by the click of a door closing. Adrenaline roared through her veins. This was her only chance. Pushing away from the wall, she rounded the lift, desperately seeking an escape. She barely noticed the plush furnishings, soft-looking leather sofas and floor to ceiling window which showcased the most spectacular view she’d ever seen. Instead she focused on the walls surrounding the elevator.
‘Are you lost?’
The heavily accented voice froze her to the spot. She darted a glance toward the sound. Dark brows furrowed over the richest coloured eyes she’d seen. His gaze swept over the length of her body, then up, lingering on her rear for a beat too long. Her skin tingled under his scrutiny.
Turning her whole body to face him, she slapped a hand on her hip. ‘Had a good enough look?’
His lips quirked in a sexy, lopsided grin. The jitters were back and Alexa swore the temperature in the room shot up ten degrees. Her gaze dropped to his broad shoulders, covered in a thin white t-shirt, then down to a well filled chest. She could see a dark pattern beneath the t-shirt. She longed to find out what kind of tattoo he had. Usually, tats didn’t do it for her. But on that body…
‘I could ask you the same thing.’
She snapped her attention back to his face. He stepped toward her, his jaw set, his eyes dancing with humour and something darker…something that made her blood heat and her mouth water.
Alexa raised her arm, palm out. ‘Hold it there, Mr. Any closer and I’ll scream.’
He paused by the sofa. Propping his hip against the cream leather, he folded his arms across his chest, causing the muscles to bulge. The moisture drained from her mouth and flooded in her belly.
‘No one’s here to hear you.’ He cocked a brow. ‘You seem to be forgetting where you are and,’ his gaze dipped down to her breasts causing the nipples to peak against the lacy fabric ‘how underdressed.’
Alexa thought this moment would have topped the blush scale. She planted her other hand on her hip and glared at him, unwilling to show any weakness. ‘I’m just leaving.’
She turned and strode back to the lift, keeping her back straight and trying not to wiggle her hips too much. The predatory sheen in his eyes made her body more jittery than the idea of sprinting around the lower floor in her underwear. She reached out to hit the button, but a large hand circled her wrist before she made it.
Alexa squeaked and darted back a step. He was so close, and his chest was right in her face. She could see the dark outline of the tattoo beneath the thin cotton. The outline of a burning sun, she thought, or something that looked like a sun. Her hands itched to lift the material and see for herself.
‘I’m up here.’
She snapped her gaze back up to his smirking face and took another step back. His lips kicked up at the corners and his eyes darkened. She swallowed against the urge to step closer, to feel his hard body pressed against hers. But she realised she was in little more than her bra and knickers in a stranger’s home. Unease skittered down her spine.
Alexa squared her shoulders, trying to quash the fear turning her heated blood into cold sludge. ‘I’m leaving now.’
‘After you explain what you’re doing in my home in your undergarments.’
‘Undergarments?’ Alexa pressed her lips together to keep a giggle at bay. ‘Seriously?’
The amusement in her eyes brought out Ric’s smile—something he hadn’t done in a long time. What was it about the young heiress that fascinated him? He couldn’t deny that she was incredibly beautiful. A brown, messy bob fell to her shoulders and she had the greyest eyes he’d ever seen. Her lips were the perfect bow; pink, rosy and ready to be kissed. Not to mention the fact she had a body that would melt weaker men into a puddle, and he’d never seen as much of it as he had tonight.
‘How do you refer to them where you’re from?’ he asked, knowing full well. Becoming fluent in English was the first thing he did when he left behind his former life on the streets, but he was curious to see where the conversation would go.
She cocked a perfectly manicured brow. ‘You’re going to ask me what I call my underwear?’ Shaking her head, she eyed the lift door over his shoulders. ‘My friends will be worried.’
Disappointment pulsed through him. He didn’t want her to leave. He hadn’t had the time to enjoy a woman’s company in so long, not since he started organising this charity ball, not to mention negotiating new contracts for the resort his adopted parents were having built at the other side of the city. Lately, all he did was work and sleep. It was the only way he was going to convince Antonio and Maria that he had changed, that they could trust him to run more than just the hotel, that he was ready to own a stake in their empire. A famous heiress showing up in his suite was most certainly a welcome distraction.
‘Are you going to tell me why you’re here or would you prefer to explain yourself to the police?’
She gasped and her mouth dropped open. ‘You can’t do that!’
Ric forced back a smile. ‘And why is that? Breaking and entering is against the law.’
‘Don’t you know who I am?’ she demanded. ‘The press would love to snap me being carted out of a fancy hotel in my knickers.’
Her eyes pleaded with him to understand, and he did. She was in the international news on a regular basis for her wild stunts and excessive partying. A road he’d almost gone down himself, even after the Castillos had saved him.
He eyed her again, wiping all signs of recognition from his expression. Her arms folded across her chest causing the swell of her breasts to almost spill out over the white lace. Heat arrowed down to his groin and he had the urge to take a step closer. To inhale the flowery scent he’d caught