Free Plain Return (The Plain Fame Series Book 4) by Sarah Price Page B

mirror and playfully held out her arms as if she were a dancer. Unlike Lucinda, the horrible woman who’d picked out her clothing in Philadelphia and insulted her by calling her prayer kapp a hat, Jeremy not only understood Amanda’s style but also embraced it in most of her day-to-day outfits. Still, her new wardrobe was not perfect. This dress, dark navy with a high neckline, was proof. Jeremy had added the rhinestones around her neck and the low-cut back, which Amanda had complained profusely about. And, of course, he disagreed with her over the style of her dresses for the tour. In fact, several of the new dresses were a bit risqué for her taste. But in dealing with Jeremy, she had clearly met her match: her protests were ignored, the dress with the low back now adorned her body, and she knew that her stage dresses would be suggestive, to say the least.
    “You like, ja ?”
    “I like, ja ,” he teased, reaching for her extended hand and gently pulling her toward him. With his other hand, he held her, the small of her back fitting comfortably against his palm. The warmth of his skin gave her a shiver, and she shut her eyes, enjoying his attention.
    The past two weeks had been long and busy. She chastised herself now for having envisioned that their return to Miami would be followed by them living a normal life as newlyweds, something they had yet to experience. After all, she reasoned with herself, what about Alejandro was truly “normal”? Certainly not his lifestyle, that was for sure and certain.
    Now, her days were filled with so many appointments, she barely realized that she hardly saw her husband until the evenings when he returned to their condominium—sometimes with an entourage, occasionally by himself. Always she made certain to be ready for his arrival so that when he walked in the front door and called out for her, she was just in the other room, waiting.
    Always waiting.
    If he was alone, she didn’t mind that he would sweep her into his arms, sometimes lifting her off the floor as he carried her into the living room, her weak protests mere pretense, for she wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms. Instead of putting her down, he’d spin her around, nuzzle at her neck, and warm her lips with a kiss before setting her back on her feet. Leaving his embrace always made her heart ache. It hadn’t taken long for her to figure out the routine, a routine she accepted despite it being far removed from the one she’d envisioned for their life in Miami.
    Most nights Alejandro appeared around seven o’clock; he would pour himself a drink and offer her a glass of champagne or wine. Usually she would simply shake her head and instead accept the sparkling water with a twist of lemon that Señora Perez had waiting for her, as if by magic. At that point, Alejandro would then join her on the sofa, stretching out his large frame as he leaned his head back and sighed. He would remain silent for a few minutes as he unwound from a long day of meetings and interviews. After he’d had a few minutes to relax, he’d ask her about her day, which had been filled with just as much activity as his.
    After an hour, sometimes less, his phone would vibrate and he’d glance down at the intrusive device. Not once was it a call or text that didn’t require his immediate attention.
    And then there were the evenings when he would arrive home with his entourage. Amanda thought they were as intrusive as Alejandro’s cell phone. She knew what to expect when Alejandro called for her on those evenings: the same embrace, the same lifting off the ground, the same nuzzling at her neck. Yet she felt uncomfortable with his affection for her being displayed in front of those men, some of them looking like hoodlums from the street in their T-shirts and caps.
    Alejandro appeared oblivious to her uneasiness in their presence. He delighted in showing off his wife and made certain to compliment her appearance or tease her about something