The Reluctant Wife

Waking up in a hotel was the same whatever hotel it was. Amira didn’t know what the fuss about big ones was, about palaces and the likes. To her, a hotel room, no matter where she was, was basically the same – bare and impersonal. She stretched a little bit in her bed, enjoying the warmth, and then checked her phone in alarm. What time was it? She only had ten minutes to get ready and meet up with Jeremy down in the lobby before breakfast. She, therefore, hurried to get up, took a shower extra quick, brushed her teeth and combed her hair, and then was on her way out of the spacious hotel room. As she exited her hotel room and walked a few steps towards the elevator, she heard a small boy’s whine, “Mama. Mama…” he kept calling for his mom over and over again. She looked around in panic and saw a boy who could be no older than five crying his heart out, near a room not too far from her own. “Que pasa?” She asked, summoning her basic Spanish to ask him what was happening. A string of Spanish stumbled out of his mouth and her eyes widened. That was too quick for her to understand. What she did understand was that the boy was alone and she needed to help him find his mother. She tried to hold his hand and he allowed her, and she told him in what she hoped sounded like Spanish that they’ll find his mama. She then went to the elevator and they went to the first floor. She headed directly for the receptionist and explained the situation, “Hello, I found this sweet boy on my room’s floor. And he was calling out for his mom. I think he’s lost or something.” But it didn’t make sense for him to be lost alone on a floor. Nevertheless, she didn’t try to voice out her concerns. The boy whose hand she was still holding started shouting mama and tried to free himself. Amira squatted down and tried to understand what was up, only to see his gaze fixed on a woman who could be seen having breakfast not too far away. “Esa es tu mama?” She asked him whether this was his mom, and the boy nodded vigorously. And that was when she allowed him to run towards his mom who had turned around upon hearing her son’s shouts. The mother was almost as stunning as the boy, although in a more refined way. Long black hair and striking green eyes, and a figure that could make any man grovel at her feet. Amira approached the woman, wanting to give her a piece of her mind, only to see that the woman was furious herself.   “Quien eres tu?” The woman asked her who she was, her glare settling on her. And then a string of Spanish fled her mouth. Again, it was too quick for Amira to understand and she only responded in English, “My name’s Amira.”   And she had to bite on her lower lip in anger. She didn’t understand Spanish much, but from the sound of it, the mother instead of being grateful was angry. What the hell was wrong with her? The beautiful brunette then addressed a waiter and asked for security. She was making such a big fuss. Amira could understand her point of view. But she had been the one to leave the boy alone in the room. A boy his age knew how to open doors. Surely, the woman knew that. But she hadn’t counted on him waking up so early, it seemed. But who was really to blame? “What’s happening here?” A deep man’s voice reached them. A string of Spanish later, and Amira was being pulled back by some smartly clad men. “Release me at once,” she hissed at them. “What if we don’t?” The man asked, and she turned to glare at him. Good god, he was handsome! More than any man she had ever met. With adrenaline pumping in her veins, she almost felt faint with desire.   “Release me, I said,” she repeated. “Boys,” he said, tilting his head and she was dragged until they reached a door which they opened and she soon enough found herself sitting at a desk while he sat on the big chair opposite her. “My name’s Xavier Ruiz,” he began in a strong voice. Ruiz? She thought. As in the owner of the hotel chain? Sweet! She inwardly winced.   “And that woman you were having a spat with is my ex-wife,” he added.  “And I should care because?” Amira countered, cutting in, an eyebrow jutted in question. Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she said with a little bit of an attitude while raising her hand, “hold that thought!” And then, picking up the phone, she started to vent. “Hey Jeremy. Can you believe I’m stuck with Xavier Ruiz, all because his ex-wife thought it wise to leave her son alone in the room and I found the poor boy crying in the hallway? Yes, what was I to do? I grabbed the boy and went downstairs to help him find his mama… now it feels like I’m being accused of attempted kidnapping. What do they take me for, a pedophile?”    She heard Xavier laugh. And it was such a sexy laugh, she instinctively clamped her legs shut.   But she couldn’t think of him that way… besides, he didn’t think of her that way. Hell, he had made his men drag her here to have a not-so-sweet chat with her. She shouldn’t be feeling so… so conflicted about him. But damn, was the man confusing and tempting! “I’ll try to wrap this up as quickly as possible and will meet you as soon as that is done,” she then said before hanging up. “I don’t know you, Miss, don’t even know your name, but will you have dinner with me tonight?” Xavier asked when she was finished.   “What’s the catch?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. “No catch, I swear,” he said, sounding sincere and yet his melted-chocolate brown eyes conveyed a dark promise that left her breathless.   “Tonight I’m busy,” she shrugged, rising to her feet. “What about tomorrow?” He all but pleaded, eyes boring into hers as he too rose to his feet.   “Yeah, sure,” she agreed all too quickly, and cursed herself for it.   They exchanged numbers and she was onto her way out of his office.