“You look beautiful tonight,” he murmured, his gaze raking over her appreciatively. But not in a creepy way. Everything about him was so polished, from his tailored tuxedo to his genuine smile. When he looked at people or talked to them, he was always engaged and none of it seemed forced.
“You look pretty good yourself.” She smiled, pasting on the brightest one she could muster. She rarely came to events such as the auction Mercado was putting on. She always felt like an impostor at things like this. While no one could say she didn’t look the part, with her sleek black dress, new manicure and pedicure, and thanks to a friend, an intricate hairstyle that looked as if she’d paid a fortune to have it done, she still felt like a fraud. It was her own insecurities, something she was well aware of. Didn’t change the fact that she felt like a big fake standing around with so many women of Miami’s high society, all of whom were decked out in glittering, blinding jewelry. Part of her wondered why Mercado had even asked her to this thing. He’d pursued her decently enough too, asking her out three times before she’d agreed. She was pretty—she knew that—but so many of the women were wealthy and elegant with the right pedigree. She was none of those things.
“So, how do you think it’s going? Or is it too soon to tell?” she continued, taking advantage of it just being the two of them. Considering he was the one putting on the silent auction for charity and was a well-respected man, they’d barely had more than a minute of alone time tonight. Oddly, she wasn’t that disappointed. The man was perfect on paper and incredibly nice, but she didn’t feel much of a spark.
“Well, I believe.” He stepped a fraction closer, letting his hand settle on one of her hips in a loose but somehow still possessive gesture. It didn’t make her uncomfortable, but it was surprising. “Though I now see that asking you to this for our first date was a mistake.”
Shock rippled through her at his words. Did he not think she was the right kind of woman to bring to this? “Was it?” Her words came out icier than she’d intended.
He blinked in surprise, a small frown pulling at his mouth. “We’ve had no private time. I’d like to take you out again soon, just the two of us. Maybe I’ll cook for you.”
Oh, God, she felt like an idiot. She wanted to crush all of her insecurities, but sometimes they just flared to the surface with no warning. The clenching in her gut dissipated when it registered he hadn’t been insulting her. “I—”
“Iker!” A female voice cut off the rest of what Amelia had been about to say.
Which was maybe a good thing. She wasn’t certain she wanted to go on another date with him anyway. If the spark wasn’t there, she doubted it would magically appear during another date. Deep down she wondered if she’d ever feel that “thing” with anyone. She had once, but that was so long ago. Over a decade. And she was pretty certain she’d just built up the combustible attraction in her mind. No one could have been that sexy, that intense, that—
She realized that Mercado was introducing her to someone. Naomi Baronet. A beautiful woman with bright red hair swept up into a simple twist. She was likely in her forties. Her features were sharp, defined, and elegant. Amelia smiled and shook the hand the woman was offering. Thank God she didn’t have to do the air-kiss thing so many people had been doing tonight. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“You as well, Miss Rios.” Her eyes glinted with something that made Amelia feel uneasy. The woman watched her like she was a bug under a microscope.
But she kept her smile in place. “Please call me Amelia.”
“And you must call me Naomi. I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while now.” Her smile was easy, her teeth a brilliant white, but there was no warmth in her eyes.
“You have?” She couldn’t imagine why. Amelia had never even heard of this woman.
Naomi nodded, her eyes narrowing just a fraction as Iker slid his arm around Amelia’s waist, holding her loosely, but still close. It felt as if he was being protective. “Yes, I know you’ve been working in tandem with Maria and all those . . . unfortunate women.” Disdain laced the last two words, even as she tried to mask it. “I know Maria’s father disapproves of all the time she spends at that center, but she’s such a giving woman. I don’t know how she does it.”
Unfortunate women? “That” center? This woman was like a cartoon character. Amelia forced herself to keep her voice even. Sometimes her temper got away from her, and tonight was not the time for that. “She does a great service to our community. And those ‘unfortunate’ women are basically young girls who had nothing growing up and simply want a better life for themselves. And they’re not afraid to work hard for it.” Ice coated her voice even as she tried to order herself to keep that facade in place. But people like Naomi, who wore entitlement around themselves like a silk wrap, annoyed her.
The woman blinked in surprise, but before she could respond, Iker’s grip on Amelia tightened. “Naomi, I see someone I need to speak to, but save me a dance.” As he steered Amelia away, she inwardly cringed.
“Ah, sorry if I was—”
“Don’t apologize,” he said through a smile. “She is . . . an unlikable individual. And if you see me dancing with her later, I beg you to come rescue me.” The light humor in his voice eased the tightness in her chest.
“You’re not friends with her?”
“No. I’ve done business with her brother, but that’s the extent of our relationship. She’s here because she wants to show off her jewelry and be seen. She doesn’t care about our community.” It was clear he did care.
Amelia wondered what was wrong with herself. Why she didn’t feel more of a spark for him. The setting tonight was perfectly romantic. Afro-Cuban jazz played in the background, the band he’d hired nothing less than spectacular. The music—along with the servers walking around wearing fedoras and the birds-of-paradise centerpieces—gave the auction a vintage, glamorous Old Havana feel.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he continued, pulling her closer to the dance floor, expertly maneuvering through the throng of people. “I had you checked out before asking you on a date.”
Gathering her thoughts, she took a sip of her champagne before responding. “You mean, like, investigated?”
He nodded. “Yes. I don’t date much, and I’m careful when I do.”
Whoa, he must be wealthier than she’d realized, something that made her incredibly uncomfortable. “Okay.” She wasn’t even certain how to respond.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck, seemingly uncomfortable as well, which was at odds with the polished man. “I wanted to be up front with you. I should probably apologize, but I’m not sorry. I’ve gotten burned in the past by women who wanted only one thing from me.”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips. It was refreshing that he was being so honest, but also a little unnerving. “I Googled you,” she admitted. Definitely not the same thing as having her investigated though.
He smiled, the charming man perfectly back in place. His hair was a honey brown with just a few faint hints of gray peeking through. “And?”
“And you seem pretty decent.”
He laughed at that. “You do wonders for my ego.”
Shrugging, she took another sip of her champagne. “So what did you find out about me that I probably wouldn’t have shared on a first date?” She couldn’t help but wonder what he’d discovered in his investigation. Probably that she’d changed her last name. Maybe he’d figured out why, maybe not. She wasn’t going to offer up the information, not until they got to know each other better. It was too hard to talk about.
“You’re the owner of two successful restaurants, something I already knew anyway.”
“How do you know they’re successful?”
Now he shrugged, all casual innocence. “About a year ago I looked into buying commercial property near La Cocina de Amelia. I checked out the surrounding businesses to see how profitable they were.”
Smart. “Did you buy the property?”