One thing was certain: now was a terrible time to try and swindle him. Regrettably, I had to do it. In an attempt to pretend that I was mostly ignorant of his fame, I made a lame attempt at conversation. "You must be George's employer."
Alejandro's eyes flashed, and he arched a mesmerizing eyebrow. "You don't know who I am?"
I squinted at him. "You must be Mr. Alejandro. I've heard of you."
He laughed, loud and hearty. "Mister Alejandro? Seriously?" He laughed a bit more, then propped his hands on his hips. "For your information, 'Alejandro' is a mononym, my first and only name. To everyone in the world, I am simply, Alejandro." He gave it his usual Spanish accent, overemphasizing the third syllable. Truthfully, I knew all about him, including his full name: Alejandro Muñoz-Perez.
But at the moment, I had to pretend that I knew very little, so I continued to make small talk. "You could simplify the name even more and call yourself Al." Now I was being coy. It helped quash my nerves.
Alejandro gave me a throaty chuckle. "You can call me Al." He hummed the Paul Simon song and danced around the pool deck for a few seconds. Then he closed the distance between us. "Tell me you don't know my music." Standing this close to me, I could feel heat rising from his scantily clad body.
The prim-and-proper Deborah I was pretending to be took a step back. She needed to get some distance from the burning cauldron of lust simmering in the body of this sultry rock god. Too bad I wasn't Dee today, because she wouldn't have to retreat from such a seductive and eye-popping man, especially one who was being this friendly. Not that I understood the reason for his friendliness.
I continued my banter. "I've heard of you, but I don't know if I've heard your music." I shrugged. "If you're that popular, then perhaps I'd recognize some of your songs. But I prefer jazz." I offered a shy smile. "Sorry."
He narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm not sure yet, but you may be one of the most interesting women I've ever met." He waved his arm toward the chairs by the pool. "Sit."
Excuse me? Was I hearing this right? Why was Alejandro offering me superlative praise? His undisguised desire was making me lightheaded. This must be some sort of trick he liked to pull.
George had been watching the two of us without saying a word, evidently used to this level of fervency from the renowned musician. It explained everything-Alejandro probably did this all the time. Stranger stories had been told about him. For most women, the standard response would be to dive right in. But I wasn't playing that game today, which was really a shame. It would certainly be more fun than conning him.