Crazy about her Spanish Boss

“Thank you for the flowers.” She’d put them on a side table beneath the arched window.

After nodding to both women she hurried through the casa to get her digital camera. Then she ran out to the courtyard. Remi and one of his staff stood against the door of a truck with their heads together. He broke off talking when he saw her and moved toward her wearing jeans and a white cotton shirt his build did amazing things for.

“I’m sorry I’m late, but there was a reason,” she explained nervously.

His worried gaze swept over her. “If you’re too tired or hot, we can put this off.”

“If you must know, I was in the kitchen talking to Maria and the time got away from us.”

At her explanation, the frown lines around his eyes cleared up. “This is her husband, Paco.” He made the introductions.

Jillian shook the foreman’s hand. He had a full head of glistening black hair and was attractive like Diego. The Spanish were beautiful people.

“Your wife is a terrific cook.”

“I know,” he said in a teasing voice, patting his slight paunch. He made a playful fist against the boss’s shoulder. “On this one it doesn’t show.”

No. The Senor was a breed apart from everyone else.

“See you later, Remi.” He made a slight bow to her and walked toward the main house.

“If you’ll get in the truck, I’ll take you around the property so you can see if this is what you’d visualized. We won’t do anything on foot because it’s too hot.”

“Would you still say that if I hadn’t just had an operation?”

“No.”

Well, that answer was direct enough.

“I have no desire to be forced to send for another helicopter because this time I allowed you to suffer heat exhaustion.”

Her flushed cheeks darkened in color. “You weren’t responsible for what happened to me.”

“I’m responsible now,” came the obdurate response, bringing out the dark side in his nature. “Shall we go?”

He opened the door and helped her inside. She wasn’t able to prevent the hem of her dress riding up her thigh. The attempt to pull it down came too late. His dark eyes didn’t miss anything before she moved her sandaled foot inside so he could shut the door.

Remi climbed in the other side. When he started the motor, the air conditioner came on, much to her relief. He drove them behind the main house to the area where she could see a large number of outbuildings. The complex was more like a living museum and much bigger than she’d imagined.

“This is a part of the estate we don’t use anymore. You’re looking at the spot where Soleado Goyo had its earliest beginnings.”

“What does Soleado mean exactly?”

“Sunny, like your hair.”

The personal comment confused her. Sometimes at his most distant, he inserted some remark that quickened her pulse. Jillian forced herself to concentrate as he pointed out the old mill house and the primitive olive press house with its orange-tiled roof and tower. With the huge shade trees, she found the whole scene had an old world charm all its own, like a painting. She drew out her camera and began snapping pictures.

A little farther on beneath the trees they came upon a well and, beyond it, a barn. He drove the truck to the opening, where she could see one of those gorgeous black carriages from the past she’d envisioned being drawn around the courtyard. Near the entrance she noticed half a dozen huge antique storage jars once used to hold the precious oil.

“The moving and lifting in those days must have been backbreaking work,” she cried.

“It still is,” he muttered. “The only difference is that the oil processing and packaging is done in air-conditioned buildings. It might interest you to know that many of the homes in the region didn’t have ovens because of the heat. Fried foods ruled the day, making olive oil a necessity.”

She couldn’t learn enough. Everything he told her would be fascinating to tour groups.

They drove through several miles of neat rows of olive trees, providing her an unforgettable sight. “The harvest won’t take place until December,” he said, reading her mind.

“Do you use machines for that?”

“We grow the cornicabra olives. They must be handpicked in order to make extra virgin oil.”

“Cornicabra?”

His lips curved. Once again he seemed amused by her inquisitive nature. “The olives are pointed like a goat’s horn.”

“There’s so much to learn. It would take a lifetime.”

“Sí, Senora,” he answered.

He sounded so far away just then, it struck her that this personal guided tour was the last thing he’d wanted to do with his busy day. Because of his misplaced sense of guilt over the car accident, he’d taken several days off from his work to see to her welfare and now he was playing tour guide.

While she sat there deep in thought, he drove on until they came to the newer buildings now in use to receive the olives and make the oil. Another one did the bottling, still another prepared the crates for shipping within the country and abroad. He had a huge concern to run.

It dawned on her that if there’d been no accident, she had a gut feeling she wouldn’t have gotten to even speak with him over the phone. Once she’d introduced herself as representing EuropaUltimate Tours and had explained her reason for wanting to talk to him, no doubt he would have been congenial, but he wouldn’t have had the time or the inclination to entertain the idea of tour buses stopping at his property.

This wasn’t a winery where the tourists could get off the bus and enter a wine cellar for a tasting party. Any visit guaranteed that the tourists would need a bathroom, a cold drink and respite from the heat. Without those amenities, she couldn’t possibly make this stop part of a day’s activity for the people in her charge.

Remi already knew that. It was the reason why he’d told her they couldn’t discuss business until after she’d seen the estate. He wasn’t set up to accommodate tour groups, but instead of giving her a flat-out no, he’d allowed her to figure it out for herself.

Her host always managed to do everything right, but she felt the fool. If her company hadn’t included an olive grove on their tour itineraries long before now, she should have known there was a practical reason why. Leave it to her to get so caught up in the excitement, she couldn’t see beyond the end of her nose.

Maybe her accident had impaired her thinking along with her vision. Intruding on his time had already inconvenienced the Senor, though he’d never admit it.

She shifted in her seat, glad the truck tour was over. Besides everything else, being confined in the cab with Remi made her cognizant of everything masculine about him. Jillian needed to be gone from Soleado Goyo as soon as possible. Hopefully he’d meant it when he’d said one of his staff would be glad to drive her back to Madrid. She couldn’t take being alone with this incredible man any longer.

She felt his dark gaze slant her way. “Had enough?”

That was no idle question. He couldn’t wait for this experience to be over with so he could get on with his normal life. Jillian lowered her head, wondering what he’d do if she told him she could never have enough of him. Instead she said, “I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, but I confess I’m ready to go back.”

“I thought so.”

She thought she heard relief in his tone before he circled around and headed home, nodding to several workers walking to their cars. Not much longer now and he’d be a free man. He was probably counting the minutes until he didn’t have to feel responsible for her. If he hadn’t talked to David, none of this would be happening.

As she sat there staring blindly out the passenger window, she could feel a strange tension building between them. To save him the necessity of having to spell things out for her, she decided to jump in and get it over with.

“I want to thank you for showing me around the estate. It’s an experience I wouldn’t have missed. The next time I’m back in my apartment in New York and have friends over for dinner, I’ll tell them about this incredible day while they enjoy chocolate mousse made from your cornicabra olive oil. Maria gave me the recipe. They won’t believe how good it is.”

“That won’t be happening for a while,” came his dampening response.

“True,” she said in a quiet tone. The doctor had warned her no flying for a whole month, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t take a train to the charming town of Cáceres and stay there until the week was out. Anything to get away from the temptation… Tomorrow she would be on the first train that headed in that direction.

By the time they’d reached the courtyard, the sun had dropped much lower in the sky. They’d been gone longer than she’d realized.

He pulled up in front of the main house where she could see whom she believed to be Soraya’s children playing on scooters. Remi didn’t appear to notice. With the engine still idling for the benefit of the air conditioning, he turned to her.

“You need to rest. In a little while we’ll have a light supper and then talk business.”

She clasped her hands. “Remi, you’ve bent over backwards for me the last few days. I can’t thank you enough for everything, including this tour of the estate, but after seeing it for myself I realize what I was asking for is impossible.”

“Say that again?” His words sounded like ripping silk, alerting her something was wrong.

“Soleado Goyo isn’t a hotel. I don’t know what I was thinking when I suggested a tour bus could stop here. You don’t have the facilities for tourists wandering around needing bathrooms and drinks.” She shook her head. “It simply wouldn’t work, but being the person you are you were unselfish enough to give up your personal time to show me around so I could draw my own conclusions.

“I’m very grateful, Remi, but now it’s time for me to leave. If you’ll let whoever’s driving me to Madrid know I’m ready, I’ll just run inside to freshen up first.”

Without waiting for his response, Jillian climbed out of the truck, needing to put as much distance between them as possible.

“Hola!” she said to the children who answered in kind, eyeing her curiously before she rushed past them to enter the house. She heard footsteps behind her and thought they’d followed her, but when she turned around she discovered it was Remi who’d come into the master bedroom.

He shut the door and leaned against it, staring at her with a disturbing glint in his eyes. “Where’s the fire, Jillian?”

She swallowed hard, unable to sustain that look. “I don’t know what you mean.”

When she saw him fold his strong arms, a shiver ran through her body.

“What’s the reason you suddenly have to get back to Madrid? You haven’t had anything to eat or drink yet.”

“I’m still full from lunch, and since my business with you is concluded, it’s only fair to the person driving me to get an early start so they can be back at a decent hour.”

At this point he’d moved away from the door. Standing there with his hard-muscled legs slightly apart, he reminded her how impossibly attractive he was, reinforcing the reason why she shouldn’t stay here another second.

“What makes you think we don’t have business to talk over?”

She rubbed her palms against womanly hips, a gesture he observed with those intense black eyes. “I—I don’t understand.” What was he getting at?

His chest rose and fell visibly. “I’ll be back in a few minutes to explain.”

Knowing he always meant what he said, the second he went out the door she hurried into the bathroom. No sooner did she emerge than there was a knock on her door.

She trembled before opening it. Soraya stood at the entry with a tray.

“The Senor told me to put this on the table.”

Jillian smiled at her. “Come in.”

She moved quickly and set it down. Her eyes darted from the roses to Jillian. “You have beautiful flowers.” “I agree.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell her Remi had brought them to the hospital. However, at the last second she held back from di vulging that revelation in case Soraya misunderstood the reason. “Thank you.”

The other woman nodded. No doubt she’d drawn her own conclusions.

On her way out of the room she passed Remi. Once the door was closed, he walked over to the table. “Come and join me,” he said, flicking her a glance.

This wasn’t a good idea. He had no conception of what his nearness was doing to her, but she couldn’t very well refuse him. After helping her to sit down, he took his place opposite her.

Maria had prepared a light meal of salad with chicken. Most people in Spain didn’t eat dinner before nine, but she realized Remi had made an exception for her. He was incredibly thoughtful, even providing ice water. She drank thirstily. Remi observed every move.

Halfway through their meal he put down his fork and sat back. “It’s true the estate was never meant to be anything but my family’s home and workplace. In order for me to accommodate the needs of the kind of tour you’re talking about, new facilities would be required.”

She wiped the corner of her mouth with the napkin. “I realize that. When I saw the groves, I’m afraid I got too carried away with excitement to consider the fundamental things required to make my plan feasible. To be honest, I’m embarrassed.”

After a slight pause, “Would it surprise you to know you’re the first person to broach such an idea with me?” he queried. “It would never have entered my mind otherwise.”

She squirmed in the chair. “All the more reason you should have pointed out the flaw in my plan and saved yourself the trouble of driving me all the way here. This is the third day you’ve had to worry about me instead of doing your work.”

“Let’s just say I was struck by your interest and your enthusiasm for something that’s a living part of me. You have no call to be embarrassed, Jillian. In fact, you’ve given me an idea.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “What do you mean?”

He rubbed the side of his hard jaw with his hand. “I haven’t told you why I went to Toledo the other day.”

“No, but you indicated it was important.”

“That’s true. This has been one of the driest years on record. There isn’t going to be enough rain in the coming months to fill the reservoirs.”

She nodded. “Someone in the office told us Spain hasn’t had normal rainfall in a long time.”

“Forty percent less,” he informed her. “In Castile-La Mancha some of the reserves are as low as thirteen percent, and the government has imposed water restrictions. In some places the country has depended on tankers for their water.”

Jillian shook her head. “How awful.”

“We need heavy rain, but it probably won’t happen.” He pushed himself away from the table and walked over to the window, where she could see the groves in the distance. As he looked out at the vista he said, “In the last eight months there’ve been massive crop failures.”

“On your estate, too?”

Lines marred his hard features. “We’ve had our share along with fires.”

“Were they devastating?” she asked, her voice throbbing.

He turned to her. “They could have been. Fortunately on our property we have emergency wells we’ve opened as a last resort. However, as my accountant pointed out the other day, I’d be wise to diversify as an insurance policy against more hard times to come. At the time I’m afraid I didn’t give him much heed in that department.”

She rose to her feet, clinging to the chair. “Why?”

A nerve throbbed along his jawline. “My parents grew other crops that could be harvested at a different time of the year to bring in income, but they too were afflicted with droughts and it became a doomed project.”

She could hear what he wasn’t saying, that he and his family had worked unceasingly without the expected results. Her heart went out to him.

“For the last two years I’ve been working with a skeleton crew to reverse our losses.”

“And have you recovered?” She held her breath waiting for his answer.

His gaze collided with hers before he nodded. “I’ve finally rounded the corner.”

“So the other day you were driving home from Toledo filled with the joy of that knowledge, only to be run off the road by a crazy American driver whose mind was on your olive groves. An idiot who didn’t have the sense she was born with to avoid catastrophe!”

Her little sob resounded in the air. In the next instant Remi closed the distance between them. She felt arms of velvet steel go around her.

Without saying anything he rocked her back and forth the way her husband would have done if he’d been there. The contact caused the floodgates to open. She sobbed against his broad shoulder and clung to him, unaware of the passage of time.

Jillian was crying over so many things she didn’t know where one pain left off and another began. It was all mixed together with Remi’s own pain. He whispered words she didn’t understand, but they comforted her. Somehow—she didn’t know quite how—she ended up lying full length on the bed without remembering being carried there. Slowly the tears subsided and she felt his weight as he sat down next to her. His fingers smoothed the tear-moistened hair off her brow and temples.

“Lie still.” His voice was soft. “I’ll change the dressing on your eye.”

It was like déjà vu. She lay on the ground at the side of the road and he was kneeling over her, urging her to be calm until help arrived.

With aching tenderness he eased the wet strips of tape off her face and pulled the patch away.

She looked up into those black pools tinged with concern and something else she couldn’t decipher. “I can’t see anything out of my right eye. Is it still there?”

That pulse at his jaw was throbbing again. “I’ll prove it,” he said deep in his throat. Then he lowered his head and kissed both her eyes like a benediction. The gesture reassured her as nothing else could have done.

“Forgive me for falling apart on you,” she said, her voice trembling.

Their breath mingled. “I’m glad you did. Now I know you’re not superhuman. For a while I wondered.”

Her eyes filled with liquid once more. “Thank you, Remi.”

“If you start crying again, the new tape I’m trying to put on you will get soaked,” he said, gently teasing her.

She bit her bottom lip. “I’ll be good.”

Remi blotted her eyelids with a tissue, then proceeded to affix the patch. “How does that feel?”

“You do excellent work, Doctor.”

A smile like none other broke the corner of his sensuous mouth. And for the first time, there was no darkness in it. When he looked like that, she could feel herself falling through space.

“You have magic in your touch. I bet your olive trees love you.”

To her chagrin his expression sobered.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“No,” he murmured. “You just reminded me of something my father used to say when I was a boy.”

“What was that?” She wanted to know all there was to know about him.

“The trees are alive, Remigio. Be gentle with them.”

“I believe that.”

There was an electric current flowing between them, but all too soon he got up from the bed. The last thing she wanted was for him to walk away.

He checked his watch before staring down at her. “Right now I have a meeting with Diego that can’t be put off. Stay the night, Jillian. Tomorrow we’ll talk about an idea I have in mind that could be good for EuropaUltimate Tours and solve a problem for me at the time same.”

Joy arced through her body. Another night with him, this time under his roof…She knew she shouldn’t, but she was dying to know what was going on inside his head. In the end her curiosity won out over common sense. Since meeting him, she didn’t have any.

“If I’m going to stay, I’d better call the Prado Inn and cancel my reservation.”

Her capitulation seemed to please him. “The phone’s right there at your bedside. See you in the morning. Buenas noches.”

Once he’d left she phoned the Prado, then called her brother’s cell. He answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Dave. It’s moi.”

“It’s about time. I just called your hotel and they told me you hadn’t checked in yet. You should be in bed. What’s going on?”

“Actually I am in bed, just not in Madrid.”

“Where then?”

“I’m being waited on hand and foot at the Soleado Goyo. The Senor put me in the master bedroom.”

There was a long silence. “Jilly…honey…do you know what you’re doing?” he asked quietly. “Is he married?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You mean, you don’t know?”

“No, I don’t, and he hasn’t offered any information.”

“I don’t like it.”

She grinned. “First you tell me I need to start living again and now you think I’m living a life of debauchery. You can’t have it both ways, brother dear.”

“Come on, Jilly—”

“Dave, calm down. I’m in his parents’ old bedroom. He doesn’t even sleep in the main house.”

“What do you mean ‘main’ house?”

“Remi’s full name is Count Remigio Goyo.”

“Count—As in—”

“The Spanish aristrocracy. The Goyo estate is huge and so fabulous you can’t believe it. He has his own house besides the main one, and there’s a third house. I don’t know who lives there.”

He muttered something unintelligible, but she could read his mind.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“Just remember he has the master key to the place. The ‘droit de Seigneur’ thing will always be alive.”

“Not in the 21st century! And don’t you know I’m a one-eye monstrosity wearing a patch? That’s how I know I’m safe.” That plus the fact that he was always the gentleman.

“How long are you going to stay there?” He still sounded unconvinced.

“We’re going to talk business in the morning, then someone will drive me back to Madrid.”

“How far away is it?”

She chuckled. “What is this? Twenty questions?”

“Look, Jilly, you just had an operation and can’t come home yet. Naturally I’m concerned.”

“I know,” she said, “and I love you for caring, but honestly I’m fine. If you want to know the truth, he makes me feel cherished.”

“Jilly? How are you? Honestly?”

“I’m much better than I expected to be.” Breaking down in his arms seemed to have accomplished something nothing else could. Three times now he’d kept her from going off the deep end.

“Okay then. Look after yourself. ’Night.”

“Love you and send my kisses to the children and Angela.”

After hanging up Jillian quickly prepared for bed. Being a tour guide had helped her learn to sleep anywhere with little trouble. However, sleeping in this room was a privilege. Her mind wouldn’t turn off.

After her conversation with her brother, she decided that first thing tomorrow she would ask Remi a few questions and not just for her brother’s sake. It wasn’t fair the Senor knew almost every intimate thing about her. She felt she could tell Remi her deepest secrets, her darkest fears—but she knew nothing about his personal life.

The next morning while Jillian was finishing the breakfast Soraya had brought in earlier, she heard a knock on the door. Just thinking it might be Remi turned her insides to jelly.

“Come in.”

Maria popped her head inside the door. “Buenos dias, Jillian.”

“Buenos dias, Maria.”

“The Senor wants you to come to the living room. I’ll show you where it is. A police lieutenant is here about the car accident.”

“That’s right. I’d forgotten all about it.” After finishing the last bite of roll, she followed Maria down the hall to the foyer and opened the double doors.

Two men stood talking in the center of a room even more fantastic than the master bedroom. One man was in uniform, but Jillian never noticed him. She was too busy feasting her gaze on the devastatingly attractive male wearing thigh-molding jeans and a creamy shirt. He’d dominated her dreams all night.