Àëåêñåé Íàñò. Çàáàâêè äëÿ ìàëûøåé. «ÁÇÛÊ». Îòäûõàë â äåðåâíå ÿ. Ðàññêàçàëè ìíå äðóçüÿ, Òî, ÷òî ñëåïåíü – ýòî ÁÇÛÊ! Ýòîò ÁÇÛÊ Óêóñèë ìåíÿ â ÿçûê! : : : : «Ëÿãóøêà è êîìàð» Áîëîòíàÿ ëÿãóøêà Îõîòèëàñü ñ óòðà, Òîëñòóøêà-ïîïðûãóøêà Ëîâèëà êîìàðà. À ìàëåíüêèé ïîñòðåë Èñêóñàë êâàêóøêó, È ñûòûé óëåòåë… : : : :

Minding Her Boss's Business

Minding Her Boss's Business Janice Maynard USA TODAY bestselling author Janice Maynard asks:Can a boss on a royal mission mix business with pleasure?Diplomat Alex Ramon’s Miami mission is on the rocks. Convincing the exiled Montoros to give up their American life and return to Alma’s throne has become personal. Not only is his trusted aide Maria Ferro flirting with a potential prince, but Alex is actually jealous! So jealous, he might sabotage his goals so he can take Maria to his bed…a prize more tempting than any commission from the crown.But Alex doesn’t know that Maria has a longtime crush of her own—and it isn’t on the playboy prince… Tonight she was more aware than usual of her boss. It was no surprise that she’d had a bit of a crush on him over the years. Alex was virile, lean and muscular. Even in the expensive suits he wore, his physical power was evident. Thick black hair, cut conservatively, and deep brown eyes added up to an extremely masculine and sexy man. The longer she knew him, the more she was afraid he would pick up on her reluctant attraction. She had no illusions on that score. Maria was practical and ambitious. She would get ahead by virtue of hard work and innate talent. But once in a while, she let herself fantasize about sharing Alex’s bed. Thankfully, Alex was oblivious to her imagination. She’d seen the hint of disapproval in his gaze tonight as he assessed her party dress. Why, she couldn’t say. By Miami standards, her outfit was practically tame. And she couldn’t put a finger on what bothered her about his interaction with Gabriel Montoro. Instead of being conciliatory and cajoling to the prince, he’d been borderline antagonistic. It made no sense. * * * Minding Her Boss’s Business is part of the series Dynasties: The Montoros—One royal family must choose between love and destiny! Minding Her Boss’s Business Janice Maynard www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) JANICE MAYNARD is a USA TODAY bestselling author who lives in beautiful east Tennessee with her husband. She holds a BA from Emory and Henry College and an MA from East Tennessee State University. In 2002 Janice left a fifteen-year career as an elementary school teacher to pursue writing full-time. Now her first love is creating sexy, character-driven, contemporary romance stories. Janice loves to travel and enjoys using those experiences as settings for books. Hearing from readers is one of the best perks of the job! Visit her website, www.janicemaynard.com (http://www.janicemaynard.com), and follow her on Facebook and Twitter. For little girls everywhere who dream of being princesses: This one’s for you … Contents Cover (#u80811f8f-963a-5e0a-af52-ada31224aa89) Excerpt (#u6d4bb36e-aa53-5070-be2d-66766c20fc9d) Title Page (#uf73e1089-835f-5333-99df-0fa16a771a8d) About the Author (#udd659478-76e1-5df3-bb53-c7993f3242d8) Dedication (#ub86e1a4d-e04e-55e8-a320-408f79b9208c) One (#ubb463322-20dc-5e0c-a1a7-94af91f5f3d0) Two (#uc3b9480e-2915-512d-ac69-dc7ace140993) Three (#uae6e5667-9540-5da8-acbe-31f3ba0f7183) Four (#uffc14a77-dc2f-5da0-8843-077d30173823) Five (#litres_trial_promo) Six (#litres_trial_promo) Seven (#litres_trial_promo) Eight (#litres_trial_promo) Nine (#litres_trial_promo) Ten (#litres_trial_promo) Eleven (#litres_trial_promo) Twelve (#litres_trial_promo) Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo) Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo) Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo) Extract (#litres_trial_promo) Copyright (#litres_trial_promo) One (#ulink_dfc595eb-286b-5168-9709-2b875d094739) Alex Ramon winced as shards of pain lanced his temples. Though the splitting headache was undoubtedly a result of jet lag and too little sleep for the past couple of weeks, it could also be attributed to stress. At the moment, his particular stressor stood on the opposite side of the room...a tall, leggy blonde in a formfitting aquamarine dress and killer heels. Maria Ferro. Aged twenty-seven. Straight, honey-colored hair that tumbled like a silky waterfall almost to her ass. He probably shouldn’t be thinking about her ass. Definitely not. But tonight it was difficult not to notice. Reluctantly, he dragged his attention from his coworker and surveyed the room. By all accounts, the party was going swimmingly. The delegation of business leaders from the European island nation of Alma mingled with the various members of the Montoro family, everyone chatting with animation and cordiality. The ballroom was situated on the ground floor of one of Miami’s premier hotels. An entire wall of glass showcased the azure ocean. Priceless chandeliers cast sparkles across the polished hardwood floor. The decor was understated, modern and sophisticated. Much like the wealthy Montoro family themselves. Alex inserted a finger beneath the collar of his tux and tugged. He was more than accustomed to upscale social functions. But in this moment, restlessness plagued him. As Alma’s deputy prime minister of commerce, he carried the lion’s share of the responsibility for convincing the Montoros to return to their homeland and resume the throne. A lot was riding on tonight and the days to come. This evening’s soiree was only the beginning...a chance for the delegation to be introduced and to establish personal contact with the family whose ancestors once ruled Alma. Unfortunately, the men and women in the youngest generation, all twenty-somethings, were more interested in hard-driving business deals and hard-partying social lives than in resurrecting any royal roots. A throaty laugh echoed across the room. Maria was clearly enjoying her handsome companion. Gabriel Montoro, middle child of Rafael III, epitomized the classic bad boy...fun loving, hard to pin down, heedless of anyone’s opinion. Alex wanted to dismiss him as a lightweight player, but in fact, Gabriel ran the South American division of Montoro Enterprises with surprising success. He was headquartered in Miami, which meant he would be involved in the upcoming negotiations. Alex was surprised that the usually sensible Maria didn’t see through Gabriel’s facade. Perhaps she was blinded by the man’s green eyes, tousled hair and golden skin. Alex wasn’t jealous. That would be ludicrous. He and Maria were nothing more than business associates. But he was half a dozen years older than she was, and he felt protective of her. She had worked for his family in London. Then, when political power changed hands in Alma and the Ramons were able to return to their homeland, Maria had come, as well, along with her mother. Alex had watched with satisfaction as Maria’s talent and hard work brought opportunities her way. Now, as a marketing and PR expert, she was set to play an integral role in this new venture. Alex admired and respected Maria. She was too nice a woman to be taken in by a jaded playboy like Gabriel Montoro. Decades had passed since the last Montoro monarch was deposed by a dictator in the aftermath of the Second World War. Four generations later the family enjoyed the fruits of a shipping and trade empire that spanned half the globe. The Montoros were happy and successful in Miami...legendary for their wealth and lifestyle. Only time would tell if they could be persuaded by duty and honor to walk a different path. Alex made his way around the perimeter of the room, stopping to make introductions and to chat with this person and that. In his hotel room he possessed lengthy dossiers on each of the key players in tonight’s drama. Though he had glanced over his notes before coming downstairs, the information was stored in his brain. That was how he worked. Prepare for every eventuality. Plan for any outcome. Make no mistakes. At last he reached the small alcove where Maria and Gabriel stood. She held a glass of wine in one hand, though Alex hadn’t seen her drink more than a few sips. Gabriel Montoro appeared to be offering her naughty vignettes about their fellow partygoers. Deliberately, Alex took his place at Maria’s side and gave Montoro a steady glance. “Mr. Montoro. I’m Alex Ramon.” Gabriel nodded as the two of them shook hands. “I know. My father speaks highly of you. I have to tell you, though, you may have your work cut out for you. None of us are particularly interested in playing dress up with crowns and thrones and an antiquated system that has seen its day.” Alex rubbed a hand across his chin, hoping to defuse the awkward moment with humor. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re really thinking?” The man’s blunt honesty caught him off guard. Gabriel shrugged. “I’m not sure what all of you hope to gain.” Maria shot Alex a glance as if to caution tact. But Alex was off his game. And irritated. “Alma is in the midst of important changes. Restoring the monarchy in a ceremonial role is a popular idea with the people at large. The offshore oil reserves have made the country wealthy, but we need stability. A royal marriage would ensure that.” Gabriel’s smile was mocking. “How very feudal of you, Mr. Ramon.” “This is not something to joke about. The lives and well-being of thousands of people are at stake here. Your family’s history is part and parcel of Alma’s identity.” Gabriel shook his head. “They threw us out with nothing but the clothes on our backs.” Alex shoved his hands in his pockets. He had the most insane urge to throttle the guy. Wouldn’t that be a royal mess... “They didn’t throw you out,” he said, the words even. “You weren’t even born. And the people had no say in it. You know what Tantaberra was like. He’d shoot first and ask questions later.” Gabriel shrugged. “Whatever. The point is, if you’re trying to make my family and me face up to some kind of obligation, you’re way off course. We have a good life here in Miami. Why would we want to return to a tiny backwater collection of islands that time forgot?” Maria spoke up, her blue-green eyes sparkling with passion. “Alma has changed, Mr. Montoro. We have high-speed broadband internet access, satellite television and radio and a thriving business community. Along with the natural beauty of the land, we have much to offer.” Gabriel wasn’t convinced. “I can find all that and more here in the US.” Alex played his trump card. “But think of your aunt...you know what she wants...” A flicker in the other man’s eyes told Alex he’d finally scored a point. Isabella, at seventy-three, was the oldest living Montoro. It was her dearest wish that her grandchildren, grandnieces and grandnephews return to their homeland for the sake of family honor. She was dying...caught up in the advanced stages of Parkinson’s disease. Alex had a notion she was hanging on only long enough to see the transfer of power take place. Gabriel downed the last of his champagne and plucked another crystal flute from the tray offered by a passing waiter. “Aunt Isabella lives in the past. We do not always get what we want.” “I think that’s a song,” Maria said, smiling. Clearly she was trying to lighten the mood. But Alex was in no frame of mind to be appeased. Gabriel Montoro rubbed him the wrong way. The man had wealth, power, good looks and sex appeal. It was rumored that women besieged him all hours of the night and day. Surely Maria wouldn’t be so naive as to be taken in by him. Gabriel sipped his drink, his gaze stormy. “Lucky for you, my father retains some vestige of the old ways. Perhaps he can be persuaded. Who knows?” Alex winced, as did Maria. Maria laid a hand on Montoro’s arm briefly, as if to placate him. “I think no one has told you,” she said softly. “But your father cannot reign.” “Why the hell not?” It was oddly amusing that even though Gabriel insisted his family had no interest in the monarchy, he was incensed at the notion his father was ineligible. Alex took a deep breath and exhaled. “Your father is divorced. His marriage was not annulled. Under the tenets of Alma law, that legally disqualifies him.” “Hell of a way to operate a country. You should be damn glad I’m not in the running. If a man of my father’s caliber is not on the short list, I’d never make the cut.” The sarcasm was laced with disdain. “This isn’t personal, Mr. Montoro. We’re merely trying to follow the traditions and expectations of our people.” Maria nodded. “Alex is right, of course. The situation is unprecedented. We are trying our best to make it work.” “But neither of you even lived in Alma until Tantaberra was ousted. Why do you care?” Alex remained silent, unable to give voice to the emotions roiling inside him. Fortunately, Maria was more vocal. “Alex’s family met the same fate as yours long ago, Gabriel. They, however, settled in London and rebuilt their fortunes in oil and gas. When Tantaberra was finally overthrown, Alex’s father determined that returning to Alma was the right thing to do.” Gabriel shook his head, draining the second glass of champagne. “I seem to be surrounded by proponents of duty above desire. Thank God, my brother is the one in the hot seat. You’ll never find a more honorable man. But whether or not he’s interested in a crown remains to be seen.” Alex took Maria’s elbow in a loose grip. “If you’ll excuse us, Mr. Montoro, Maria and I need to mingle. I’m sure we’ll meet again.” Gabriel eyed both of them, his rueful smile half apology, half derision. “I’m sure we will. How long do you anticipate staying in Miami to stir the pot?” “A month, give or take. We have a great deal of work to do. The official request from Alma to the Montoro family is in the process of being drafted.” Maria spoke up. “And I’ll be working on press releases and rollouts to the public. We want everything to be positive and upbeat.” “And if my family refuses?” Gabriel’s steely-eyed gaze held not a whit of humor. It was Alex’s turn to shrug. “If your brother agrees, the rest of you will be free to make your own choices. Although, for the sake of a smooth transition, your support will mean a lot to him, I would think.” Maria grimaced. “This is a huge undertaking, Mr. Montoro.” “I asked you to call me Gabriel,” he said. “And you, too, Alex. I’m not one to stand on ceremony.” If he was making a point, it was subtle. “Gabriel, then,” she said. “We take our charge very seriously. I hope you’ll give us a chance to win you over.” He chuckled. “Fair enough.” His relaxed response sent a wave of relief crashing through Alex. It would be bad form to alienate one of the royal family right out of the gate. Gabriel had been pissed a moment ago, but his tone and demeanor were mellower now. “I appreciate your plain speaking,” Alex said, his customary diplomacy back in working order. “I’ll look forward to continuing our conversation.” * * * Maria allowed Alex to steer her away from the Montoro bad boy, but for once, she couldn’t read her boss. He led her toward the buffet. “Have you eaten anything?” he asked gruffly. Her stomach rumbled on cue. “No. I was too nervous.” He handed her a plate. “We’ve both been working nonstop for weeks. I think we deserve a break.” Maria surveyed the bounty with anticipation. Fresh seafood, everything from shrimp cocktail to crab legs to raw oysters, filled silver trays to overflowing. The various salads and breads were no less appealing. She made her choices and followed Alex to a small table for two. The glass doors were designed to be open for access to the patio, but it was much too hot at the moment for anyone to go outside. She sat down, tugging the hem of her dress to a decorous level. Alex was in an odd mood. In a tiny pocket she carried a tube of lipstick and a small vial of tablets. Shaking two ibuprofen into her palm, she handed them across the table. “Your head is killing you, I can tell. Take these.” He scowled but didn’t argue. She knew that men in general and this one in particular hated showing weakness of any kind. It was a sign of his discomfort that he didn’t refuse. They ate in silence for long minutes. The quiet didn’t bother Maria. She’d grown up without brothers or sisters and had often spent time alone at home when her mother was at work. Tonight, however, she was more aware than usual of her boss. It was no surprise that she’d had a bit of a crush on him over the years. Alex was virile, lean and muscular. Even in the expensive suits he wore, his physical power was evident. Thick black hair, cut conservatively, and deep brown eyes added up to an extremely masculine and sexy man. In London, she had worked as his secretary. Once they all returned to Alma, however, she had been promoted to her current assignment in media and PR. Her position fell under the auspices of the Ministry of Commerce, but she did not ordinarily answer directly to Alex. For this assignment, however, he was definitely in charge. And that was a problem. Because the longer she knew him, the more she was afraid he would pick up on her reluctant attraction. She had no illusions on that score. Alex was the eldest son of an aristocratic Alma family. He would marry one day and marry well. But not someone like Maria. Not a woman whose mother had been a laundress in a seedy neighborhood in London to make ends meet. Maria was practical and ambitious. She would get ahead by virtue of hard work and innate talent. But, once in a while, she let herself fantasize about sharing Alex’s bed. All that hard muscle and warm skin at her disposal. A shiver snaked its way from the nape of her neck to a spot low in her belly. Thankfully, Alex was oblivious to her imagination. He was discreet about his relationships. A very private man with a fine-tuned sense of propriety. She’d seen the hint of disapproval in his gaze tonight as he assessed her party dress. Why, she couldn’t say. By Miami standards, her outfit was tame. Nevertheless, she knew she had blotted her copybook with Alex. Perhaps he thought her d?colletage was too low or her skirt too high. Though the man was incredibly appealing, even she could admit he had a stuffy side. Perhaps she would have teased him had he not looked so grim faced. It occurred to her that he took this venture very personally. As if it was solely up to him to convince the Montoros to accept the mantle of the monarchy once again. By the time they’d finished eating, the lines at the corners of Alex’s mouth had disappeared. Between the food and the painkillers, he seemed finally to have relaxed. Still, she couldn’t put a finger on what bothered her about his interaction with Gabriel Montoro. Instead of being conciliatory and cajoling, he’d been borderline antagonistic. It made no sense. She sipped a glass of Chablis and gazed out over the diverse group of people. The Alma delegation actually outnumbered the Montoros, but the Montoros had invited numerous friends and associates. Rafael Montoro III was the life of the party. His rugged features belied his age. Though he had already turned fifty, he could pass for a man a decade younger. Did he harbor resentment over being bypassed for the throne? His oldest son, Rafael IV—known as Rafe—was charming and affable and extremely self-possessed, though he had yet to hit thirty. Except for his age, it was not a stretch to see him as king of Alma. Rafe’s sister, Bella, was much like her dad, the center of attention and a vivacious extrovert. But she was very young, only twenty-three if Maria remembered correctly. Then there was Gabriel, who was another story. And also a close cousin, Juan Carlos, who had been raised with the Montoro siblings after his parents’ deaths. Neither Gabriel nor Juan Carlos would be likely to play much of a role in the upcoming transition, except for supporting Rafael IV. The others present were of little interest at this point. It would be Maria’s job to craft the image of a royal family that was strong and moral and charismatic. The only person who might make her job difficult was Gabriel. Who knew what skeletons were hidden in his closet. It would be up to her to excavate them and make sure they didn’t embarrass the Montoro family in the midst of this sea change. Gabriel, despite his reputation, was not so bad, as far as she could tell. Perhaps a bit cynical, almost definitely a player. Women were always drawn to that kind of fallen-angel mystique. “I don’t know how this is going to go.” She jumped when Alex spoke. She’d been so deep in her thoughts he had startled her. She searched his face. “I’ve never heard you give voice to the possibility that we might not prevail.” His lips twisted. “Well, look at them. Why do they need Alma or royal titles? The whole family is practically royalty here in the States. If you or I were in their shoes, would we give up all this?” “Maybe. It’s hard to say.” Maria pursed her lips. “Everyone likes knowing where he or she comes from. The Montoros’ family history goes back hundreds of years. I imagine that once they have some time to think about it they’ll be excited about renewing those ties.” “I hope you’re right.” At the opposite end of the room, a small orchestra began tuning up. When the musicians launched into their first song, Alex stood and held out his hand. “Do you feel like dancing?” Her heart fluttered and lifted. “I always feel like dancing.” As he led her out onto the floor, she tried not to stiffen up. That would be a dead giveaway that she was nervous. Alex held her firmly with masculine confidence that was appealing. She was a strong, capable woman, but to move like this... Well, that was another thing entirely. Here she could give in to the mastery of the dance. Alex was in charge, and she was able to let go and let him steer their course. He smelled of crisp, starched cotton and warm male skin. She was almost certain she caught a whiff of the hotel’s signature shower gel. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her knees trembled. This was the first time they had ever been so close. In Alma, she couldn’t think of a single social occasion when she and Alex had interacted so personally. And for such a length of time. Perhaps that was why she felt a change in him. The first song ended and a second began. Alex made no move to release her. Since she had no real desire to be released, she followed where he led. A less pragmatic woman might have called the moment romantic. Maria was neither a romantic nor a wishful thinker. But even a realist could choose to live in the moment once in a while. Life was serious business most of the time. A woman could be excused for indulging herself on occasion. And Alex Ramon was definitely an indulgence worth savoring. Two (#ulink_aa16e969-5a39-552c-a63e-32617bf8483c) Alex had made a tactical error. He knew it as soon as he took Maria in his arms. Given the situation, he’d assumed that dancing was a socially acceptable convention...a polite way to pass the time. He was wrong. Dead wrong. No matter the public venue nor the circumspect way in which he held her, nothing could erase the fact that she was soft and warm in his embrace. The slick fabric of her dress did nothing to disguise the feminine skin beneath. He found his breath caught in his throat, lodged there by a sharp stab of hunger that caught him off guard. He’d worked so hard these past weeks that he’d let his personal needs slide. Celibacy was neither smart nor sustainable for a man his age. Certainly not when faced with such a deliciously carnal temptation. How had he never noticed that Maria was such a tall woman...or that her cheek reached his shoulder at exactly the right spot? When he couldn’t think of a good reason to let her go, one dance turned into three. Inevitably, his body responded to her nearness. He was in heaven and hell, shuddering with arousal and unable to do a thing about it. When Gabriel brushed past them, his petite sister in his arms, Alex remembered what he had meant to say earlier. “Maria...” “Hmm?” Her voice had the warm, honeyed sound of a woman pleasured by her lover. Alex cleared his throat. “You need to be careful around Gabriel Montoro.” Maria’s reaction was unmistakable. She went rigid in Alex’s arms and pulled away. “Excuse me?” Beautiful eyes glared at him. He tried to continue the dance, but Maria was having none of it. So Alex soldiered on. “He’s a mature, experienced man, and you’re not accustomed to running in these circles. I’d hate to see him take advantage of you.” Maria went pale but for two spots of hectic color on her cheekbones. “Your concern is duly noted,” she said, the words icy. “But you’ll have to trust my judgment, I’m afraid. Because I don’t plan to avoid him. My job is actually to get close to him, to learn his secrets, to do damage control. And I’m not a child, Alex. I’m insulted by your insinuation.” “I’m not insinuating anything,” he said. “But I saw the way he looked at you.” “The man would flirt with a block of wood. I get that. But I certainly don’t need you or anyone else to protect me from the big bad wolf.” “You’re angry.” “Damn straight, I’m angry.” Her eyes snapped with the force of her displeasure. “I was invited to be part of this delegation, and I accepted. I’m here to do a job and to do it to the best of my ability. This assignment means as much to me as it does to you. So I’ll thank you to keep your advice to yourself.” “I’m sorry,” he said stiffly. Her posture erect, she gave him a stony stare. “Am I off the clock now, Mr. Ramon? May I go to my room?” “Don’t push me, Maria,” he said, his teeth clenched. “It’s been a long day, and the ones to come won’t be much better.” She wrapped her arms around her waist in a defensive posture. “Maybe it would be best if we avoid each other when we don’t have to be working together.” “If that’s what you want.” How had they gone from dancing to dismay so quickly? For a brief moment he saw sadness in her gaze. His gut twisted with the sure knowledge that he had put it there. Her bearing and her expression were dignified. “I’ll see you at ten tomorrow,” she said. As he watched her walk away from him, his enjoyment in the evening went flat. He tracked her progress as she spoke to various members of the delegation and said her good-nights. The Montoros were next. Both of the Rafaels. Bella. And of course, Gabriel. As Alex watched, Gabriel leaned down and whispered something in Maria’s ear. Whatever it was, it made her laugh. Seeing her face light up reminded Alex of how hard she worked. In Alma, he’d never had any problem with their professional relationship. But something about Miami’s heat and hedonistic ways blurred the lines between business and pleasure. Maria was right. Part of her job was to deal with Gabriel Montoro so that he didn’t embarrass his family and/or derail the plans to reinstate the monarchy. Alex understood her priorities. But he didn’t have to like them. * * * Maria slept poorly and woke early. Her dreams had been a jumble of Alma and Miami and Alex. Gabriel hadn’t figured in those sequences at all. Which was really no surprise. Because as handsome and charismatic as the second-born Montero was, he didn’t make her heart beat faster. He amused her. He made her laugh. And she liked him a lot. But he wasn’t Alex. After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning, it became clear she wasn’t going to be able to go back to sleep. Climbing out of bed, she slipped into her swimsuit, brushed her teeth and twisted her hair into a messy knot on top of her head. This was her best chance to get in some sunbathing before the sun became blistering. Draped from neck to midcalf in a conservative cover-up made of ecru lace, she made her way downstairs. Miami might have different standards, but Maria was a citizen of Alma and as such, subject to a certain code of dress and conduct. She would never do anything to embarrass the delegation. Other than the occasional hotel employee, she met no one. These early-morning hours were ones she enjoyed. Filled with the promise of a new day. Peaceful. Only when she stepped outside into the heat and humidity did things change. Not because of the weather. But because she ran headlong into a hard male body. Catching herself and grabbing for her tote, which threatened to spill everywhere, she looked up in consternation. “Alex.” He wore a gray T-shirt and navy running shorts. With some alarm, she realized that she had never seen his legs bare. If that weren’t enough to make her gawk and stutter, she also had to take note of his broad chest and the dark patterns where sweat marked his shirt. “Hello, Maria. You’re up early.” He spoke calmly, as though their last encounter hadn’t ended acrimoniously. She nodded. “I burn easily. I thought it might be nice to spend time at the beach now. I won’t be late for our meeting.” He cocked his head. “Am I such an ogre?” The teasing glint in his eyes made her stomach clench with feelings that were definitely not professional. “Of course not.” “Good.” They both stood there waiting for the other to speak. “You’ve been running,” she said, as if it weren’t obvious. “Yes.” When he removed his aviator sunglasses, his gaze was stormy. “It’s a stress reliever.” “You have a lot on your plate.” “The Montoros aren’t the only problem I’m juggling at the moment.” “What else is there?” She was genuinely curious. “This and that.” The words were flat. Without inflection. But the dark-eyed gaze held an intensity that made her nipples bead beneath two layers of fabric. She swallowed hard. “I won’t keep you then.” He took a step in her direction but stopped short. “I’d better hit the shower,” he muttered. “I’m having breakfast with Rafael Montero.” “Father or son?” “Father. He’s one generation closer to the past. I’m hoping he’ll help us sway the younger ones.” “He may be bitter about his own missed opportunity.” “Somehow, I doubt it. He seems to have a very casual approach to life.” “You sound as if you don’t approve.” Alex shrugged, the fabric of his T-shirt clinging to a broad, muscular chest. “I’m not sure how the American personality will translate in Alma. The older people still remember days of pomp and circumstance. A laid-back monarchy may be hard to swallow.” “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” “No.” He grimaced. “But it’s the assignment we’ve been given. If we’re in pursuit of the ‘good old days,’ then the monarchy is necessary for our people to feel as if life has finally returned to normal.” “Better the devil you know?” Alex chuckled, his face lightening. “Something like that. I’d better get moving. See you at ten.” As he walked away, Maria allowed herself to track his progress. He moved with a rangy masculine gait that encompassed determination and impatience. She wondered if he ever truly relaxed. Down on the sand, she selected a lounger and spread her towel. At this hour, the sun worshippers were few and far between. A handful of joggers. Several people walking their dogs. She had just picked up her paperback novel when a shadow fell over her left arm. Shading her eyes with one hand, she looked up. “Gabriel. What are you doing here? I wouldn’t have pegged you for an early riser.” He waited for her to move her legs to one side and then settled on the end of the chaise. “I’m not,” he said, yawning. “Just now going to bed.” “Ah.” He shook his head with a wry grin. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I have a weekly poker game with some buddies.” “Did you win?” “I always win.” Despite his reputation, she couldn’t help liking the black sheep Montoro. He seemed very comfortable in his own skin, and that was a trait she admired. “Where do you live?” she asked. “I have a condo here on the beach. But our family has a compound at Coral Gables. You should let me take you there. It’s quite fabulous. You’d like it, I think...” “I’m here to work,” she said, smiling to soften the blow. “But thank you.” “If it’s your stick-up-his-butt boss you’re worried about, I’ll invite him along, as well.” “That’s not a very nice thing to say. Alex is a wonderful man. And he cares deeply about his country. I admire him very much.” “Does he know about your...devotion?” The pause before the last word was pointed. She felt her face flush. “We’re colleagues, nothing more.” “And you’re okay with that?” “I’m uncomfortable with this subject,” she said, wincing inwardly at how prissy she sounded. Gabriel waved a hand. “Fine. My apologies.” He yawned again. “I need some shut-eye. Don’t stay out too long and get burned, pretty Maria.” “Why are people so interested in giving me advice? I’m a grown woman, in case you haven’t noticed.” Gabriel stood and stretched, his shoulders blocking out the sun. “I noticed,” he said, the grin turning roguish. “But I know a lost cause when I see one. You’re too nice a woman for the likes of me.” “I think I’ve been insulted.” “Not at all,” he protested. “It’s just that I don’t have a great track record with sweet young things. Someone always gets a heart broken.” “Do you ever take life seriously?” He glanced back at her as he prepared to walk away. “Not if I can help it, Maria. Not if I can help it.” * * * An hour later she gathered her things and prepared to return to the hotel. She had just enough time to clean up and make it to Alex’s suite for their meeting. They were being joined by Jean Claude, the attorney overseeing preparation of the legal documents for the restoration of the constitutional monarchy. Maria was glad to see the lawyer for more reasons than one. He was good at what he did, but even more importantly, today he was a buffer between Alex and her. The growing awareness she had of Alex’s masculinity would have to be stamped out. For two solid hours the three of them wrangled over language and legal points. Lunch was delivered from the hotel restaurant at noon. In forty-five minutes they were at it again. From the beginning, Maria had been awestruck by the historical importance of the documents they were drafting. Now, though she still recognized the critical nature of the work, being cooped up in a small room for hours on end meant she was more than ready to call it quits when Alex finally indicated they were done. “We can’t finish everything in a day or even this week. But we’ve made a dent in it.” Jean Claude nodded. “When will we show the Montoros a draft?” “Not until we have some assurance they plan to accept the offer from Alma,” Alex said. “If they turn us down, we’ll have to scrap everything and come up with plan B.” Maria groaned. “All this work for nothing? Please don’t even hint at it. It’s a dreadful thought.” Jean Claude capped his expensive pen and tucked papers into his sleek briefcase. He was in his midthirties, good-looking in a quiet, unflashy way and utterly trustworthy. Which was why he had been chosen for his current position. “I believe we must think positively. The Montoros are surely aware of their family’s deep history with the country of their origin. Despite their love of the United States, blood ties will win out.” Alex ran a hand through his hair, ruffling the thick dark strands. “Let’s hope you’re right.” As the door closed behind Jean Claude, silence fell heavy and awkward. Maria stood, her knee bumping the leg of the table. Wincing, she picked up her things and sidled toward the exit. “Same time in the morning?” she asked, trying for a clean getaway. Alex stopped her with nothing more than an upraised hand. “Tomorrow is Saturday. The entire delegation has been given instructions to enjoy some time off. We’ll reconvene on Monday.” Maria raised an eyebrow. “Can we afford the delay?” “Any deadlines we come up with are artificial at best. If we’re to convince the Montoros of our sincerity and our pragmatism, we can’t appear too desperate. It’s Miami, Maria. Sun, sand, shopping.” “It’s like I don’t even recognize you,” she teased. The twist of his lips was self-mocking. “I do understand how to have fun, you know.” “I’ll take your word for it.” Suddenly they were back to flirting again. Alex fiddled with a stack of papers, not looking at her. “Did I ever tell you I had a brother? A twin?” “No.” It wasn’t the kind of thing two business associates normally discussed. She wasn’t going to ignore the personal overture, though. “But I’d like to hear about him...” Alex’s face was cast in shadow, the sun coming through the window at his back. Suddenly the harsh lighting made him seem a tragic figure. She shivered as if a ghost had walked over her grave. “He died when we were ten years old,” Alex said. “Complications from the flu. My parents were completely crushed.” “And what about you?” He seemed surprised, as though no one had ever considered the grief of a sibling. “I lost a part of myself,” he said slowly. “As if I’d had a limb removed. It was agony.” Maria stood frozen, her belongings clutched to her chest. “Why are you telling me this?” she asked, her voice little more than a whisper. Alex straightened, his gaze meeting hers without hesitation. “I want us to be friends, Maria...to understand each other. You think of me as a workaholic, don’t you?” She bit her lip, evaluating her answer. “I see you as a very conscientious man.” His brooding expression touched something deep in her heart. “I wasn’t always such a stickler for the rules. But after my brother died, I felt as if I had to make up for my brother’s loss by being perfect,” he said. “That narrow path has become who I am now.” “A difficult way to live.” “Yes. Yes, it is.” He stopped, and she saw the muscles in his throat work. “If I push too hard, call me on it. With you and Jean...with the delegation.” “It’s not my place.” “It is. Because that’s what I need from you.” They were separated by a space of several feet. Even so, she felt the pull of his magnetic personality. “Is that all you need?” The words left her mouth as if someone else had spoken them. She saw his eyelashes flicker in shock and was appalled at her impulsive gaffe. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I shouldn’t have said that.” “Do you not want to hear my answer?” Every cell in her body trembled with uncertainty. “I think perhaps I should say no.” “I never took you for a coward, Maria.” She shook her head instinctively. “We’re away from home...in an unusual environment. We’re not ourselves.” “Or maybe we’re more ourselves than we’re allowed to be in Alma.” His words left her breathless...literally. Until it occurred to her that she had for the moment forgotten how to breathe. Exhaling slowly, she weighed her response. Alex was an attractive, appealing man. Sharing his bed would be memorable. Of that she had no doubt. But in the end, the two of them came from different classes. The United States might pride itself on the ability of a person with nothing to rise to the top, but Maria knew her limitations. “My mother worked in an industrial laundry ten hours a day in order to put me through school in London. And I had two jobs on top of that.” “I’m familiar with your background.” “The Ramons are aristocracy...on a par with the Montoros as far as Alma is concerned. I don’t think it would be wise for you and I to do anything we might regret.” “You’re throwing up barriers where none exist. The delegation was handpicked. You’re here because of your skills and competence. No one looks down on you for not being a native.” “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” “It’s the twenty-first century, Maria.” “Maybe so. But Alma values the past. Otherwise, none of us would be here trying to reinstate the monarchy. I am proud of who I am, but I’m a realist. You and I walk different paths. Let’s not forget that.” He stared at her long and hard as if he could imprint his will on her by mind control. “You asked me what I need from you.” “I shouldn’t have.” Her heart fluttered in her throat like a butterfly trapped. He smiled, a totally unfair act of war. “I’ll wait until you ask me again. But next time, I’ll answer, Maria.” Three (#ulink_0af7d7e9-b8c2-5d63-b895-be32e13133bb) She fled to her room after that, her legs spaghetti and her mouth dry. It was one thing to know she was attracted to Alex but another entirely to realize that he might be feeling the same pull. After changing into a set of comfy knit casual wear, she pulled out her phone and initiated a FaceTime call with her mother, who was getting ready for bed. The older woman’s image was clear and dear. “Hello, sweetheart. How are things going?” “Good, Mama. I wish you could be here to see Miami. It’s gorgeous.” “I’m so proud of you, Maria.” “None of this would be happening if it weren’t for all the sacrifices you’ve made for me.” Her throat was tight suddenly. Her mother’s smile held a quiet joy. “That’s a mother’s job...and one I did gladly. How is Mr. Ramon?” “Why would you ask me that?” Did her red cheeks show up on the other end? “I’m not blind, Maria. I know you have a little crush on him.” She was too startled at her mother’s perception to prevaricate. “Well, that’s all there is to it. We’re business associates, nothing more.” “He could do worse for a wife.” “I think you may be a tiny bit prejudiced.” They talked for five more minutes on less sensitive topics and then Maria said her good-nights. Her body was still on Alma time. The temptation to climb into bed was strong. But she knew she needed to resist if she was going to get past the jet lag. She wasn’t quite brave enough to strike out on her own in a strange city, but she had noticed a charming caf? in the hotel lobby as well as a series of shops with eye-catching merchandise. That would be exploration enough for one day. Grabbing her billfold with its modest stash of American dollars, she tucked her room key and cosmetic case in a small tote and went in search of the elevator. She’d feared feeling out of place, but the hotel staff was exceptionally kind and friendly. Because she was on the early end of the dinner hour, she was escorted to a table near the window, perfectly situated to gaze out at the ocean. After that, it was a toss-up as to whether she enjoyed the food or the view more. Though Alma supported a thriving fishing industry, the variety of seafood here in Miami was out of the ordinary. She ordered baby shrimp in a b?chamel sauce with spring vegetables over angel-hair pasta. Every bite was a treat. Afterward, she browsed the shops, trying not to let her shock show at some of the prices. Clearly the patrons of this hotel were upscale consumers with plenty of disposable income. A designer swimsuit and cover-up for twelve hundred dollars. Seventy-five-dollar rhinestone-studded beach sandals. A rattan tote that cost more that Maria earned in a month. Fortunately, she had never needed such things to be happy. Her mother had taught her to hunt for bargains and to stretch a euro. Though Maria admired the merchandise, it was more in the nature of appreciating exhibits at a museum. She didn’t covet any of it. When she had worked her way around the main floor of the hotel, it was still too early for bedtime. On a whim, she returned to the restaurant and decided to order dessert. Her table was not as ideally situated this go-round, but the watermelon sorbet and caramel-drizzled shortbread cookie more than made up for it. She was sipping coffee when a familiar figure surrounded by three or four other men entered the room. Gabriel Montoro stood out no matter where she spotted him. After paying her check, she was preparing to leave when he surprised her by showing up at her table and sitting down in the empty chair. Lifting an eyebrow, she cocked her head. “I’m on my way out. I recommend the dessert special.” Gabriel picked up an unused table knife and rotated it end over end between his fingers. “If I’d known you were eating solo, I’d have invited you to join me.” “Not necessary. Sometimes it’s nice to be alone with my thoughts.” “Ouch,” he said, wincing theatrically. “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I didn’t mean it that way.” She studied his face. For a man who claimed to live life on his own terms, she saw signs of strain. “I appreciate the thought, but I’m fine. Just trying to kill some time before I crash.” He glanced at her empty cup. “Caffeine won’t help.” “So I’ve been told. But the coffee here is amazing.” When she stood, he did, as well. “I’ll walk you to the lobby,” he said. “Aren’t your friends waiting for you?” “It’s a business thing. And not that urgent.” She was unable to dissuade him. Outside the restaurant, he steered her toward a store she hadn’t entered because it was mostly jewelry. “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning. “I need your advice.” He pointed toward a glass case. “Which one is the prettiest? The palm tree? Or the crab...” She gaped. “Well, uh...” She studied the two pieces. Both were gold with delicate chains. The palm tree had a tiny diamond coconut. The crab sported two emerald eyes. “They’re each beautiful.” “But?” “Well, if I had to pick, I’d go for the crab. He’s whimsical.” “Fair enough.” He handed the salesclerk a platinum card. Still baffled, Maria watched him complete the transaction. As they left the shop, Gabriel took her hand and pressed the small, lime-green bag into her palm. “This is my apology,” he said. “For being a jerk yesterday. You’re doing your best to help my family, and even if we don’t really care, it was rude of me to say so.” Maria shoved the bag back at him, appalled. “Oh, no, Mr. Montoro. That’s not necessary. Not at all. You don’t owe me any apologies.” “I told you to call me Gabriel.” “Gabriel, then. It would be very inappropriate of me to accept such a valuable gift.” “Forgive me for being crass, but this is nothing. Just a way for me to soothe my conscience.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t want you to judge my family by my behavior. I’ve gotta run. Sleep well, Maria.” As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone. Maria stared at the small bag in her hand, feeling a coil of unease settle in her stomach. But what else could she have done? She couldn’t afford to offend a member of the royal family. A masculine voice, cold and clipped, interrupted her reverie. “I think I was wrong about you, Maria. I thought you were too inexperienced and naive to deal with the likes of Gabriel Montoro. But apparently you know exactly what you’re doing.” She looked up to find Alex regarding her with disdain and patent disapproval. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said. “Clich?, my dear. Clich?. A man gives a woman he barely knows jewelry? I think I’m pretty clear about the facts.” Her temper started to simmer. “First of all, you’re way out of line. Second of all, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Back off, Alex. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Gabriel was apologizing for being antagonistic about our efforts yesterday.” “He didn’t buy me jewelry.” “Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m going up to bed. Good night.” His criticism stung, in part because she felt guilty about accepting the bauble. She didn’t make it as far as the elevator before Alex caught up with her. “I called your room, but you didn’t answer,” he said. “I’ve been trying to stay awake a little longer. I ate dinner alone and did some window-shopping. Last time I checked, neither of those was a crime.” Alex’s jaw firmed. “I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions. I was calling to see if you wanted to walk on the beach.” The look in his dark eyes said he was telling the truth. And that his apology was sincere. Late-day stubble shadowed his jawline, giving him a rakish, dangerous air. Her anger deflated, leaving her dangerously vulnerable to his weary charm. “I appreciate the offer, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Maybe another evening?” He nodded. “Of course.” “Good night, Alex.” He took her wrist and then released it abruptly when she flinched. “You’ve made quite an impression on the royal family,” he said. “I don’t understand.” “They’ve invited us to spend tomorrow and Sunday at the family enclave in Coral Gables.” “The whole delegation?” He shook his head. “Just you and me.” “Oh.” Well, shoot. “I can make an excuse. It’s more appropriate for you to be there.” He leaned against a marble column, legs crossed at the ankle. “I doubt that would be a popular choice, Maria. And we certainly can’t take a chance on insulting them by declining. I told Mr. Montoro we’d be honored to accept. Rafael the third, that is. He seems to be receptive to our cause. Since we need all the help we can get, we’re going to be there.” She sighed, feeling exhaustion wash over her. “What time?” “Someone will pick us up at eleven in the morning. Bring everything you need for the weekend. We won’t check out of our rooms, though.” “That seems extravagant, doesn’t it?” His grin was quick and surprisingly boyish. “Relax, Maria. Your thriftiness is appreciated, but this is the big leagues.” * * * She dreamed about that smile. And other things that left her hot and restless and agitated when she finally awoke. As she showered and dried her hair, she fretted about spending two days in a distinctly unprofessional atmosphere with Alex. He continued to keep her off balance. She didn’t know if that was deliberate on his part or simply a function of their new circumstances. At a quarter till eleven, she shouldered her tote and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. No point in summoning a bellman. She was leaving behind her smaller case. In the lobby, she looked for Alex to no avail. Many people were checking out, and the sizable space was crowded. She found a corner and pulled out her phone to send a text. Before she could do so, a large hand settled on her shoulder. “Sorry I’m late,” Alex said, his expression harried. “I had to deal with a call from Alma. Some members of parliament are expecting news immediately. I tried to explain why that won’t be possible.” She followed him outside. “Don’t they understand that the royal family is somewhat reluctant?” Alex donned dark sunglasses, effectively shielding his gaze. “I doubt it has even occurred to them that the Montoros may not be interested in what we have to offer.” A uniformed chauffer held up a sign with their names, and soon they were speeding southwest toward Coral Gables. Maria sat back, content to enjoy the passing view. Though Alex was dressed casually in khaki pants and a loose ivory cotton shirt in deference to the heat, his posture remained tense as he scrolled through emails on his phone. As deputy prime minister of commerce, he bore an enormous workload, never more so than now in the midst of delicate negotiations. Maria had done her research before leaving Alma, but at the moment all she could remember about Coral Gables was that it dated back to the 1920s with its origin as a planned community. And that it was home to the University of Miami. The drive was barely half an hour on a good day, but with traffic could be upward of forty-five minutes. Luck was with them, and the trip was quick. As they passed through a portion of the charming business district and turned into a residential area, Maria’s jaw dropped in admiration. Lush tropical gardens and ornate walls protected private enclaves of the wealthy and oftentimes famous. At the entrance to the Montoros’ estate, the chauffeur pressed an intercom button and identified his passengers before the gate rolled back and they were granted admittance. Even the driveway was beautiful. The ubiquitous palm trees shaded winding paths of crushed shells mixed with white sand. Feral parrots dotted the landscape with pops of intense color. “It’s like something out of a novel,” Maria murmured, more to herself than to Alex. He didn’t answer, still engrossed in his work. Biting her lip, she debated how far she dared push him. “Alex.” “Hmm?” He never looked up. “Alex.” This time she put more force behind the word. He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the heel of his hand across his forehead. “What?” She forgave him the faint note of irritation in his voice, because she suspected he hadn’t slept much last night. Between the stress and the time change, the poor man was in bad shape. “I think you need to relax,” she said. “Look around you. We’re in paradise. If nothing else, we’ve been given an opportunity to make a good impression on the Montoros...to meet them on their turf and show that we understand them.” His chuckle was halfhearted at best. “Do we?” he asked. “Understand them, I mean? Neither you nor I have royal blood. What do we know about the obligations of rank and lineage?” “That’s true,” she conceded. “But this is our chance to get beyond the obvious...to see them as they really are. Then maybe we can decide how best to cast the lure.” He put his phone away and lifted an eyebrow, gazing at her with a warm smile that curled her toes. “I’m impressed, Maria. Machiavellian machinations and intrigue. Who knew you had it in you?” “Don’t be so dramatic. All I’m saying is that we should look for their vulnerabilities...their weaknesses. We both know Alma needs the Montoros. What we need to do now is establish exactly why the Montoros need Alma. Once we’ve done that, the outcome should fall in our favor.” * * * The driver pulled the limo into a circular driveway. Before Alex could respond, Maria had gathered her things and stepped out of the vehicle. A uniformed housekeeper met them and ushered them inside a small guesthouse. “Welcome,” she said in softly accented English. “The Montoros are glad you are here. I have prepared a light meal and afterward you may want to relax for a bit. At four, someone will come to escort you to the main house to join the family.” Alex nodded. “Thank you.” The housekeeper waited patiently as they explored. Maria’s wide-eyed expression amused him as she took in the lavish amenities. The villa had two guest rooms, each outfitted with a massive king-size bed and expensive teak furnishings. The chauffeur brought in the luggage, placing Maria’s in the dove-gray and shell-pink room, and Alex’s in the navy-and-yellow suite. When the tour was complete, the housekeeper held out a hand. “Would you like to eat in the sunroom?” Alex looked at Maria and nodded. “Of course.” Soon, they were digging into a light but flavorful luncheon of fish tacos, mango salsa and conch fritters. Alex took a sip of his really excellent pinot and shook his head. “I think they’re trying to impress us.” “Isn’t that our role?” Maria had devoured her food every bit as eagerly as he had. “Maybe they want to make very clear how little they’re interested in returning to Alma...in any fashion.” “Oh.” Her crestfallen look urged him to comfort her. But the unexpected wave of tenderness made him uneasy. She caused him to feel things that were inappropriate at best and dangerously seductive at worst. How could he fulfill his mission if he were constantly derailed by his baser instincts? A life of public service meant subverting his own needs for the greater good. For the benefit of his country and for the sake of his pride he would have to ignore the way she made him feel. She had left her blond hair loose today, confined only by two small tortoiseshell clips, one at either temple. Though he knew she came from a background far less privileged than his, she carried herself with a regal grace and dignity that surpassed her years. He had suggested her as one of the team for this trip, but ultimately, she had been chosen by the committee. Her talent and hard work impressed everyone who witnessed her in action. She’d been right to call him on his preoccupation. Nothing at the moment was more important than the Montoros. As they finished their meal, the housekeeper hovered, spiriting away empty plates and keeping their glasses full. At last, she left them alone. Alex cleared his throat. “Would you like a nap?” “The answer is yes, but I’m not going to take one. I’m determined to beat this jet lag. How about a walk instead?” “You do know it’s hot as hell out there.” She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. But it’s Florida. I’ve never been here.” He held out his hands. “Far be it from me to stop you. I’ll tag along to make sure you don’t get lost.” Maria changed clothes so quickly he was stunned. Instead of the subdued navy dress she had worn earlier, she came out of her room wearing white shorts that showcased her long, tanned legs and a raspberry-colored tank top. Her hair was now caught up in a free-falling ponytail. The outfit shaved half a dozen years off her age, reminding him again of how young she was. He swallowed against a tight throat. “That was fast.” She shrugged. “My mother believes in a woman being herself. Too many lotions and potions breed vanity...or so she claims. I started sneaking mascara and lip gloss when I was fourteen.” “Such a rebel,” he teased. “I tried to behave. I really did, because I adored my mother, even as a bratty teenager. But I wanted to be like all the other girls.” “Not such a terrible failing.” “I suppose not. But she came home from work early one day before I’d had a chance to wash my face, and she was so...” “Angry?” “No. Not that. It was worse. I had disappointed her. She told me that it was a mistake for a girl to primp and paint herself to attract a boy. That I should be proud of who I was inside. That the exterior didn’t matter.” “Wise words.” “Yes. But they came from a place of pain. I never knew the details, though it was no secret that my father abandoned her before I was born. When it came to love, she had chosen poorly, and she paid for it the rest of her life. My goal has been to earn enough money to set her up in a little retirement flat. I owe her so much. And I want to give her a chance to enjoy life while she is still strong and healthy.” “You’re a good daughter.” For a fleeting second he witnessed a surprising vulnerability in her aquamarine eyes. “I hope so.” Four (#ulink_93a20e05-630f-5901-8d00-828c140be548) As they exited the small house, Alex pondered Maria’s words. He knew she was ambitious. Unlike some people, he didn’t see that as a negative in a woman. He’d like to think he was more of an enlightened male than some of his contemporaries. But what if Maria’s ambitions had more to do with securing a future for her mother and herself than for simply rising in the ranks of government service? Did she want a husband and children? Or had her mother’s experience made Maria reluctant to entrust a man with her future? The more he thought about it, the less he was sure of anything. What bothered him the most was the faint but insistent notion that she might be setting herself up to land in a Montoro’s bed. Gabriel’s to be exact. Did Maria have fantasies of becoming a princess? Almost instantly, Alex was ashamed of his doubts. He had no basis at all for such a supposition. Merely his own jealousy. Though he knew a relationship with Maria was not likely to be good for either of them, he winced at the thought of her being with another man. Surely it was a dog-in-the-manger attitude. As they wandered the grounds, he tried to keep his mind on the flora and fauna and not on the long-legged grace of the beauty in front of him. The more time he spent in Maria’s company, the less control he had over his fantasy life. Already, he’d been awakened twice on this trip by intensely erotic dreams. Now, with her three feet ahead, his hands itched to feel the silky hair that tumbled down her back. It bounced and swung as she walked. In his imagination he could see that same hair spread out across his pillow, those wide-set eyes, drowsy with passion, staring up at him. Damn it. He was hard and hot and horny, none of which were appropriate conditions for the man who was supposed to be orchestrating a diplomatic dance that could affect thousands of lives. Clenching his jaw, he concentrated on naming the flowering shrubs they passed. Anything to keep from staring at a heart-shaped butt and narrow waist made for the grasp of a man’s hands. Despite her claim of jet lag, Maria seemed indefatigable. The various pathways were clearly marked, so it was easy to circle back around in the direction of their accommodations. At the very last turn, they lingered beside a small lagoon, taking advantage of a patch of shade. A pair of peacocks strutted on the far bank. Birdsong echoed from every direction. Maria leaned against a tree trunk, propping one foot behind her. “I like the wildness,” she said, smiling dreamily. “The landscape is passionate and alive.” “If it were you, would you go back to a country where you had never lived? Simply to fulfill a destiny you didn’t choose?” She gazed toward the water, her profile as familiar to him now as his own face in the mirror. “I honestly don’t know. My life is so different. Once my mother is gone, I’ll never have a chance to press the issue of my father’s identity. And she won’t even discuss her own family, because they threw her out when she ended up pregnant and unmarried. So the idea of having a family tree that can be traced back almost two thousand years is hard for me to grasp. My past is a blank slate.” “I’m sorry,” he said. “It is what it is.” She wasn’t trying to elicit his sympathy. Her words were matter-of-fact. He wondered, though, if she recognized the vein of wistful sadness he heard in them. Her skin glowed with heat and perspiration. It occurred to him in that quiet moment that her beauty was intrinsic, not dependent at all on the paints and potions she had so whimsically described. She might look much like this after a bout of energetic lovemaking. Shifting restlessly from one foot to the other, he fought the urge to take her in his arms. Clearing his throat, he glanced at his watch. “We should get back and clean up.” She nodded, smiling at him with such sweet openness that his heart clenched in his chest. “I’m glad I was able to come on this trip. I know you put in a good word for me, and I’m grateful.” He stared at her, his body rigid with desire. “I don’t want your gratitude, Maria.” Hurt flickered in her eyes, only to be replaced by dawning surprise as she realized what he wasn’t saying. “I asked you before what you needed from me. And you wouldn’t answer.” “Correction. I didn’t answer because you weren’t willing to listen.” She straightened from her relaxed pose against the tree and took a step in his direction. “And if I’m ready now?” He shuddered, no longer able to hide the hunger that rode him hard. “Come here,” he said, tugging her by the hand until she landed against his chest. He linked his hands at the small of her back, allowing himself one tiny nibble of a shell-like ear. She looked up at him, her eyes huge. “Men are strange creatures.” He choked out a laugh. “What does that mean?” “I’m all sweaty and icky.” Inhaling sharply, he shook his head. “Definitely not icky. Trust me on that one.” He found her mouth with his, going in for a quick pass and then lingering to taste every nuance of warm, willing woman. Maria was not shy, but there was a certain hesitance in her response, a tiny awkwardness that perhaps signified a lack of experience. That same pesky tenderness surfaced, making him want to protect her from himself. And wasn’t that a conundrum... Finally, her arms went around his neck. Now they were pressed chest-to-chest, hip-to-hip. There was no way she could miss the state of his body. He was hard everywhere. Though it took everything he had, he kept the kiss gentle, the embrace circumspect. They were standing where anyone could see them. And they had a very critical appointment in less than an hour. One more minute. That’s all he needed. His tongue stroked hers. “Hell, Maria. You make me forget my name.” “Alex,” she whispered, straining against him, standing on tiptoe. “Smart, sexy, adorable Alex.” “Adorable?” He frowned, trying to focus as she sucked on his bottom lip. “Adorable,” she said firmly. “You’re so serious and dedicated and straight-arrow. It’s lovable and charming.” He forced himself to release her, though when she clung to him in protest, his resolve weakened. His heart slamming in his chest like a pile driver, he took her wrists in his hands and dragged them away from his neck. “I’m not feeling at all dedicated right now, Maria. If it weren’t for the possibility of alligators in that lagoon, I’d be tempted to pull you down on the ground and have my adorable wicked way with you.” “Alligators?” Her shriek sent a flock of birds skyward. If he’d hoped to derail the possibility of sex, he’d succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. His companion looked scared to death. He shook his head in bemusement. “You do know where we are, right? Alligator alley?” “I didn’t think they were everywhere.” She clung to his arm as he led her back toward their quarters. Alex ushered her inside the villa and shut the door. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Gators aren’t aggressive as a rule. Though they might grab the occasional cat or dog.” “Oh, Lord.” When she went white, he realized his assurances weren’t helping. “Go take your shower,” he said. “As long as you stay out of unknown pools and ponds, you’ve got nothing to worry about, I swear.” He leaned down for one last kiss. “I’ll protect you.” * * * Maria turned the water as hot as she could bear it, stepping into the shower and trying to stop shaking. Maybe her fear was irrational, but while she could handle the occasional mouse or nasty spider, alligators were beyond her experience. Maybe this was what people meant when they said every Eden has its serpent. Miami and Coral Gables were beautiful beyond belief. Lush...tropical...a garden paradise. She’d never anticipated a dark side. As she dried off and re-dressed in the outfit she’d worn earlier, she hoped she had chosen appropriate attire for the weekend. Unfortunately, there was no manual for how to hobnob with royalty in America. Her navy linen sheath dress was very plain, its only adornment a trio of quirky wooden buttons on either shoulder. Her shoes were low-heeled strappy sandals in a neutral shade with cork soles. She stared in the mirror. Too casual? Not casual enough? The decision was moot now, because she didn’t have enough clothing with her for endless choices. Truthfully, it probably didn’t matter. She was not a key player in this drama. Alex was the one in the hot seat. The Montoros would be grilling him, not Maria. Poor Alex. She finished drying her hair and brushed it out, leaving it as it had been when she arrived. The clips kept it off her face. Presumably this afternoon’s gathering would be inside an air-conditioned space. One thing she had already learned about Florida was that even if the outside temperatures were sweltering, inside most buildings, it was cold enough to hang meat. Êîíåö îçíàêîìèòåëüíîãî ôðàãìåíòà. Òåêñò ïðåäîñòàâëåí ÎÎÎ «ËèòÐåñ». Ïðî÷èòàéòå ýòó êíèãó öåëèêîì, êóïèâ ïîëíóþ ëåãàëüíóþ âåðñèþ (https://www.litres.ru/janice-maynard/minding-her-boss-s-business/?lfrom=688855901&ffile=1) íà ËèòÐåñ. Áåçîïàñíî îïëàòèòü êíèãó ìîæíî áàíêîâñêîé êàðòîé Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, ñî ñ÷åòà ìîáèëüíîãî òåëåôîíà, ñ ïëàòåæíîãî òåðìèíàëà, â ñàëîíå ÌÒÑ èëè Ñâÿçíîé, ÷åðåç PayPal, WebMoney, ßíäåêñ.Äåíüãè, QIWI Êîøåëåê, áîíóñíûìè êàðòàìè èëè äðóãèì óäîáíûì Âàì ñïîñîáîì.
Íàø ëèòåðàòóðíûé æóðíàë Ëó÷øåå ìåñòî äëÿ ðàçìåùåíèÿ ñâîèõ ïðîèçâåäåíèé ìîëîäûìè àâòîðàìè, ïîýòàìè; äëÿ ðåàëèçàöèè ñâîèõ òâîð÷åñêèõ èäåé è äëÿ òîãî, ÷òîáû âàøè ïðîèçâåäåíèÿ ñòàëè ïîïóëÿðíûìè è ÷èòàåìûìè. Åñëè âû, íåèçâåñòíûé ñîâðåìåííûé ïîýò èëè çàèíòåðåñîâàííûé ÷èòàòåëü - Âàñ æä¸ò íàø ëèòåðàòóðíûé æóðíàë.