Nice, Elise. Fighting not to cringe or blush, she started to reach for the water.
The plane bounced again.
Glancing at the distance between the top of Alejandro’s head and the low ceiling, she smirked. ‘Maybe you should sit down before your head makes a hole in the ceiling and you doom us all?’
His mouth twitched as he perched at the foot of the bed. ‘You seem in a better mood, too.’ His gaze flicked to the zipped-up portfolio case that held her drawings. ‘Does this have something to do with it?’
She tensed slightly, unable to stem the ingrained wariness about her art. When his eyes reflected nothing but genuine interest, she nodded. ‘It hasn’t for a while but it helped today, yes.’
He nodded, his gaze resting speculatively on the case. When it flicked back to her, her heart tripped.
‘Are you going to make me beg to see them, Elise?’ he murmured.
Her fingers toyed with a corner of the sheet, her nerves jumping in time to the turbulence. ‘I don’t know...maybe?’
Eyes gleaming with intent traced her face before reconnecting with hers. ‘Por favor. I would be honoured to see your art.’
She grimaced. ‘Damn. You don’t play fair.’
A ghost of a smile curved his mouth. ‘No. I don’t.’
She reached for the case to extract her sketchbook, an absurd part of her acknowledging she would be totally crushed if he didn’t like it. Calling herself all kinds of a fool, she held it out to him.
Alejandro opened it. Surprise flickered in his eyes, then both eyebrows gradually spiked with each page he perused. Finally, when she didn’t think she would be able to stand the tension, he raised his head. ‘Que están más allá de magnífica,’ he rasped.
‘Translation, please,’ she whispered.
‘Magnificent.’
Pleasure shot through her, her smile powered by a thousand bulbs of happiness. ‘Thank you.’
He stared at her for a beat before returning his attention to the pages. ‘This is what you intend to do when you’re done with Jameson?’
‘It’s what I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but...’
‘But?’
‘I was afraid I’d lost...something. My work has felt stilted for a long time now.’
He regarded her steadily. ‘You had other things on your mind.’
Slowly she nodded. ‘Yes.’
Deft fingers leafed through the pages with escalating speed. ‘And your parents have a problem with this?’
Her fist knotted on the sheet. ‘My parents have a problem with most things I do. Or more accurately, what I don’t—’ She bit her tongue to stop words she didn’t want to spill.
His head lifted from the pages, green eyes narrowed. ‘What do they want?’
She shook her head. ‘I’d prefer not to—’
‘Your talent is undeniable. So tell me why they’d choose not to support you,’ he pressed.
‘Do your parents support you in everything you do?’
His face froze, a darkly forbidding look blanketing his features. ‘We’re not talking about me.’
‘Answer my question and I’ll answer yours.’