Nacho Figueras Presents by Jessica Whitman Read Free Book Online Page A

striking difference. While Sebastian’s light green eyes were filled with rude mischief and the promise of fun, this man’s ice blue gaze was unfathomable, almost haunted. He was definitely a man in some kind of pain, she thought as she studied his face.
    Listen to yourself , she thought impatiently, presuming all this understanding. He’s probably pained by my inability to make conversation, more than anything. Get a grip, girl.
    Realizing that she’d done little but stare, and mortified by her awkward silence, Georgia opened her mouth to speak, but before she could get a word out, a polo groupie—who couldn’t have been any more than sixteen—came crashing into the tent for an autograph. She sent Georgia’s elbow flying, and her champagne nearly spilled onto the ground. In one deft move, Alejandro stepped up, grabbed her elbow, and steadied the glass.
    Security arrived just after to lead the poor girl away, but Sebastian stopped them and signed the girl’s napkin first, giving her a wink and a smile as well.
    Alejandro stood beside Georgia, still gripping her arm. She could feel his warm breath against her temple.
    Georgia swallowed nervously. “Nice reflexes.” She showed Alejandro her still almost-full glass.
    He raised an eyebrow and slowly released her arm, his fingers brushing against her skin. “I should hope so,” he said dryly. “It’s how I make a living.”
    “Well,” she blurted out, “I hope to see you play,” and cringed inwardly at how fantastically banal she could be.
    He took a step closer. “And I hope you’ll see us win. You’ll be here tomorrow?”
    “Of course she will,” interjected Billy. “She’s dying to see the ponies. She’s a veterinarian, you know, specializing in equine medicine.”
    “Really?” Sebastian asked. “She seems unfairly attractive for a vet.”
    “Considerably easier on the eye than our Dr. Gustavo,” Rory remarked.
    “Speaking of which,” said Sebastian, tipping his head meaningfully.
    Alejandro glanced across the room and his face grew stony. He turned to his brother. “Why aren’t those two checking the ponies?”
    Georgia followed their gaze and saw, across the tent, a short, barrel-chested man jabbing a chinless Brooks Brothers type in the chest.
    Sebastian nodded, amused. “Dr. Gustavo’s too busy letting Dr. Evan know who’s boss.”
    Alejandro made a low sound of exasperation. “Excuse me,” he murmured, and brushed past Georgia to head for the unfortunate pair at the bar.

Chapter Twelve
    A lejandro felt his annoyance grow as he glad-handed his way rapidly across the room. The first interesting face he’d seen since getting to Florida and immediately work intervened. He glanced back at Georgia, briefly pausing to watch the way she toyed with a stray caramel-colored curl at the base of her neck. For a moment, Alejandro was tempted to turn around and finish the conversation that had barely begun. But then he looked back at the bar and saw Dr. Gustavo, his face already flushed with drink, slam down a shot of something. Now was not the time to get distracted. There was the string to think of.
    He threaded his way through the crowd, trying to ignore the fact that everyone he passed wanted his attention. Every interaction in these tents was a trap. All those bright, eager faces wanting something from him. He knew he should be grateful, these were his fans for the most part—people who only wished him well—but sometimes the unrelenting scrutiny could feel less like love and more like ownership. As if they were entitled to just about everything he had to give—not just an autograph or a quick selfie, but his heart, his soul, and when he was losing as he’d been lately, even a pound or two of his metaphorical flesh.
    Alejandro could see that Gustavo was snapping his fingers at the barman for another drink. The vet’s manner was really getting more and more insufferable.
    The other vet, Dr. Evan, had been a problem since day one.