His Family of Convenience (The Medina Legacy) Read online

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Discover more category romance titles from Entangled Indulgence… Playing the Spanish Billionaire

  Taken by the CEO

  Masquerading with the Billionaire

  A Millionaire at Midnight

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2017 by Amy Ayers. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Indulgence is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Stephen Morgan

  Cover design by Bree Archer

  Cover art from iStock

  ISBN 978-1-63375-910-7

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition April 2017

  Chapter One

  “Senna?”

  His voice reverberated across the counter of the beachside bar. It was warm, deep, and had the distinct lilt of Latin musicality. She had forgotten how delicious her name sounded on his tongue. The din of raucous patrons faded as flashes of memory assaulted her: downtown Miami skyscrapers, rooftop views, and the golden brown eyes she’d fallen into.

  She set down the shot glasses in her hands and met his eyes with more confidence than she felt.

  Marco Medina. Handsome as sin. For Senna, landing a coveted internship at the esteemed Medina Enterprises was like winning the lottery.

  “Marco,” she said reverently. The smell of his clean, heady scent coupled with the spice and heat of his cologne threatened to overwhelm her.

  She shook her head to break the spell and busied herself arranging the shot glasses in a line in front of her. He was on her turf now. “What brings you into this little corner of debauchery? Shouldn’t you be on a rooftop somewhere drinking Cristal?”

  He laughed a sultry, carefree laugh. “What, I can’t hang with the locals eating stale chips and drinking inferior tequila?”

  Jerk. Even though he’d just insulted her job, her body was remembering what it was like to be close to him. Working for him had been a master class in global business and international supply chain management. It didn’t hurt that he filled any room he entered with his own brand of potent masculinity. She’d spent the year trying to pretend her senses didn’t ignite every time he was near. And then they’d shared an unforgettable night on the rooftop terrace of his downtown office building.

  One night and a lifetime of responsibility.

  “So I thought you were going to apply for one of the sales positions after you graduated.” Marco’s voice was glib and casual. Like they were just two old friends catching up.

  Senna watched as he glanced around the bar taking in the tiki lamps glowing with faux flame and multicolored sombreros on the walls.

  “Yeah,” she said. “I was.”

  “Did that not work out?” His words positively dripped with sarcasm. The muggy bar was crowded, hot. It wasn’t the cool, elegant offices of Medina Enterprises with its European espresso machines in the break room and imported marble floors. But it was an honest place to work, and her hard-won tips had kept her afloat when all other options seemed to dry up.

  He’s infuriating.

  She tried to hang on to her anger, but her body wanted only to remember what it was like to be held in his thick arms, what it was like to be possessed by him, even if it was only for a night. She reached behind her, grabbed the bottle of Patron Silver off the shelf, and started pouring shots.

  “I’m just waiting for the right opportunity.” She returned the Patron to its place with more force than she intended.

  “And this was it?”

  “What, a girl can’t take her time to find the right niche for her particular skill set?” His proximity was distracting. She would give anything for her body to behave, for her nervous trembles to still and her breath to return to normal.

  “Well, I hope you don’t wear that when job searching.” She noticed a look of irritation passing over his Castilian features as he looked her up and down. “It advertises a distinct skill set.”

  With a shrug, she looked down at her too-short jean cutoffs and her Barbie-doll-sized tank top adorned with two giant maracas. “It’s Florida, it’s hot.” She grinned, secretly pleased that he was irritated with her skimpy attire.

  “Why haven’t you ever asked me for some help job hunting? Or applied with our corporation? You’re above…this.” He leaned in closer, his intensity palpable. “Have you forgotten that I know a thing or two about business?”

  Senna froze. Surely he’s joking.

  “No, I remember.” Her voice sounded shrewish, even to herself. She pulled out four glasses from under the bar with vigor and started pouring a second round of mixed drinks for another table.

  In the year since their night together, she had spent many hours formulating the perfect words that would bubble forth calmly and directly the next time she saw him. Unfortunately, all of those eloquent sentiments had conveniently flown out the open doors of the seedy beach bar and into the hot August night.

  She loaded her drinks onto a tray and lifted it carefully. “Excuse me, Mr. Medina. I have some customers to take care of. They teach that in business school, you know. Customer service and all that.”

  She hurried by him, desperately hoping she looked casually indifferent even though she was teeming with fiery emotion. Anger, hurt, frustration, and, if she was being truly honest, more than a flash of raw undulating desire for his large hands to grab her around her waist and bring her close.

  But he didn’t follow her. He let her go about her business of waiting tables and pouring drinks and escaping the paws of drunk patrons. Just a typical Thursday night. She didn’t have time to process what his unexpected arrival meant. She did know if she didn’t get enough tips tonight her electricity may not stay on much longer, and she couldn’t let that happen.

  Marco’s table wasn’t in her section, but she couldn’t help keeping a close eye on him. Her mind was spinning. Several months after their illicit night, she’d tried to contact him, but he never returned any of her texts, calls, or emails. And now he has the audacity to waltz into my bar and down tequila shots like he doesn’t have a care in the world.

  Part of her wanted to drag him outside and let him have it. But another part of her, the part of her born of fear and worry, just wanted him to go away. She’d done fine without him so far. He’d hidden himself from her with enough skill to let her know that getting his polo ponies’ hair braided was probably a more pressing pursuit.

  The clock struck one a.m., signaling the end of her shift. She knew leaving now meant giving up the best tips, but she needed to spend a few hours working on the freelance bookkeeping that was helping her make ends meet. And s
he supposed her body would demand sleep at some point.

  Valerie sidled up next to her at the bar as she was closing out her tickets for the night. “So how do you know those cute guys at the ten top in the back?” Val was another server, a few years older than Senna, who was trying to make it in the fashion world. In the meantime, she was a notorious flirt and never let a cute guy with a nice body or a black American Express card leave the bar without her name and phone number.

  “Who says I know them?” Technically she knew only one of them.

  “He does.” She pointed directly at Marco. “The tall one with the yummy eyes.”

  “Jeez, Val, don’t point at him.” Senna turned her head just in time to catch the knowing smirk that washed over his features. Valerie actually waved at him. “He keeps asking questions about you.”

  Senna’s stomach dropped. “What did you say to him?”

  “Nothing.” She leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

  The last thing she needed was Valerie babbling to Marco about what she’d been up to this last year. It was a conversation she needed to have with him herself. She just really didn’t want to, at least not anymore. The thought was exhausting.

  Senna turned back to the receipts in front of her. “Well I hope he tips you well. He’s loaded.”

  “If you know him and he’s loaded, then you should have taken the table.”

  “Ha. Serving that man drinks all night would be a special kind of torture. I’m out of here. See you tomorrow.”

  “See you. And don’t worry. I won’t go home with any of them.”

  “Good plan. ’Night.” She grabbed her purse from under the bar and headed out through the back door.

  …

  Marco sipped his tiny tequila as he watched Senna leave the bar. It certainly wasn’t the quality of the alcohol that drew him to this particular establishment on this hot August evening.

  Senna was keeping a secret from him. And, for a smart girl, that was not the wisest decision.

  Tracking her down had been effortless. His name and his fortune opened any closed door. But what he hadn’t anticipated was the way just saying her name resurrected the memories of their time together.

  He’d been back in Miami for only a week. Since the previous summer, he’d been kept busy at his family’s ancestral home in the countryside outside of Barcelona.

  After their night together, he wanted to spend more time with her, to find out what other delights her body had in store for him. But family obligations had their way of toying with even the best-laid plans, and staying in Miami to explore his feelings for Senna had been an unfortunate casualty.

  Like it or not, Marco was bound by traditions and loyalties centuries in the making. His family operated like a business itself with all members embracing the job they were assigned. Marco had grown up knowing his place, his future. There were no variables; his path was set.

  And it didn’t include falling for his luscious intern. Their night was an indulgence a year in the making that put a zigzag in a previously straight and narrow course.

  His skirt-chasing image had his senior staff chastising him for his interest in Senna. They thought she had simply caught his fancy and he only wanted her in his bed. This was partially true. She filled out a skirt quite well, and he would have chased her anywhere.

  But when she entered a meeting and opened her mouth, everyone, including him, had realized her assets weren’t just physical. She needed polishing, but she had a business acumen that couldn’t be taught. You either possessed it or you did not. And she did.

  The fact that she was working here in this crappy bar getting drinks spilled on her and dodging the constantly wandering hands of the patrons made his blood boil. She was certainly better than this; she always was. But especially now that he knew her secret. The phone in his hand buzzed, and he was relieved to see the text: All clear. That meant she was home safely.

  She had looked tired tonight. No, exhausted. The light in her eyes, the one that made the room come alive when she entered, was dim and cloudy. Her defenses were so solid it was like a stone wall surrounded her. Maybe that was a good thing. It would make it easier to convince her of his plans.

  He had surprised her on purpose. He wanted to see how she would react to his presence. He knew he had rattled her. That was to be expected. But the abject wrath? The daggers her beautiful deep green eyes were hurling at him? That was misplaced. He had every reason to be furious with her, to yell and scream and punish her with his words and accusations. What reason did she have to be so quick with that biting tongue?

  He downed the last of the inferior tequila. Damn her! By this time tomorrow, he and Senna would have an understanding, and he didn’t particularly care whether she liked it or not.

  …

  Senna made her way up the stairs to her third floor apartment, her steps getting slower as she ascended. The weight of the evening was catching up to her and her legs felt heavy as she maneuvered each stair.

  A third floor apartment had made sense years ago when she and her grandmother had rented the place. It felt safer, more removed. A thief or a criminal would have to really want something to trudge up all of these stairs. Thankfully criminals in this neighborhood were fairly lazy.

  But then her grandmother’s health had declined and the stairs were a liability, a prison, and Senna watched as the isolation slowly poked holes in her sanity. Although if she was being honest, the early onset Alzheimer’s quickly and aggressively taking her mind away in large chunks was probably more to blame than the stairs. But at the moment, the stairs were her personal Mount Everest.

  She reached the top and quietly let herself in. Abby, her roommate, was asleep on the couch with a small study lamp burning brightly beside her. There were at least three separate textbooks spread out around her, and Senna wondered how she could sleep like that. Abby was finishing up a grueling summer course, so she was probably grateful to be sleeping at all.

  The bright light and the blissful relief of the cool air conditioning assured her that they had at least one more day of electricity. She shed her purse and the backpack that held her bookkeeping work. She’d brought it with her to the bar hoping she’d have a few free moments to work on it, but of course that never happened. There always seemed to be too many college kids itching to burn through Daddy’s money by buying the next round of shots. At least most of them tipped well.

  Coming home from work and into her clean apartment always threw into sharp relief how dirty a shift at the Gusano Loco made her feel. She always had a thin layer of sweat and grit covering her thanks to the open-air concept of the bar and Miami’s August humidity. Add the smell of stale tequila and cigar smoke and she barely felt human.

  She darted into the bathroom for a shower. She knew it would just make her more tired, but it was a necessity.

  After she was clean and felt semi-human again, she stole into her bedroom and fished around in the dark for a clean sleep shirt. She finally found one and shimmied into it. Now was her favorite part of the day. She crept over to her bed and sat down on the side. Slowly her arms felt in the dark until they landed on warm skin.

  He was always right there waiting for her, and as difficult as things were, as broken as she was feeling about the direction of her life, he was her constant. Her arms wrapped around him, and she pulled him close to breathe his scent.

  His eyes fluttered open and locked with hers. “Hi, baby boy.” She cooed softly, kissing his sweet-smelling forehead. “Mommy’s home.”

  Chapter Two

  The door to Senna’s bedroom flew open wresting her from a deep sleep and bolting her upright. She grabbed the startled baby next to her and brought him close to her chest.

  “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry to wake you. I was just worried. You’re usually at the kitchen table mainlining coffee by now, and when I didn’t see you…”

  Senna took a moment to process the fact that it had actually scared her roommat
e that she was in bed asleep at what a quick glance at her bedside clock told her was seven a.m.

  “I can’t believe I fell asleep.” The baby at her chest started rooting for breakfast. She unbuttoned her sleep shirt, and he latched on quickly, much to the relief of her aching breasts. “No, Abby, don’t be sorry. I didn’t mean to sleep last night. I’ve got so much to do.” She leaned back against her headboard willing her heart rate to return to normal.

  Abby sat at the edge of Senna’s bed. “I just was checking on him; he’d been so quiet all night. No wonder the little man was sleeping in. He had you all to himself.”

  Senna was thankful Abby had wandered into her life when she was pregnant and couldn’t afford to see a regular doctor. Abby’s bright smile and general cheerfulness made the university’s somber free clinic much more bearable. She was studying for her nurse practitioner degree, and her postgrad specialty was obstetrics. The two hit it off at Senna’s first prenatal visit and became friends.

  When Senna’s grandmother became ill last winter and had to be moved to long-term care, Abby was looking for a room to rent. The timing was perfect.

  And when Max was born, Senna knew Abby was almost as in love with the chubby little baby as she was. Abby’s schedule allowed her to watch him while Senna worked. There was no way she could afford quality childcare with her paltry bar tips and the occasional freelance accounting job. He was a good baby and rarely had fussy nights, so Abby got to study all she wanted; Senna gave her a huge break on rent, and everyone was happy.

  Plus, living together had fast-tracked their friendship, and Senna didn’t have many friends these days. She had never really fit in with the typical college kid sorority crowd, mostly because she had too many responsibilities with working and supporting her grandmother.

  It had taken her an extra two years to graduate simply because she wasn’t able to hold down multiple part-time jobs and do school full-time. Throw in an ailing grandmother whose descent into Alzheimer’s had been terrifyingly brutal and quick and she felt lucky to have graduated at all.

  Using her free hand, Senna reached up and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t believe I fell asleep. I was just going to feed him real quick.”