Minding Her Boss's Business

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

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.

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