At His Service: Flirting with the Boss: Crazy about her Spanish Boss / Hired: The Boss's Bride / Blind Date with the Boss

“What makes it so nice is that you could open up the old gate farther down the highway, the one you told me about that was closed off a long time ago. Using that entrance to the property would ensure people’s access to the bar without coming near your own private living quarters.”

He didn’t interrupt her. It prompted her to rush on.

“The olive press house could be a store to sell your fabulous product on demand. You could have little recipe books printed to tell how the tapas are made with Soleado Goyo olive oil. Yours would be the showplace of Castile-La Mancha.”

He was quiet too long as she knew he would be. “Like I said, I was thinking big.” She put her napkin down. “I’m ready to leave when you are.”

His dark eyebrows lifted in query. “Am I to assume you don’t want dessert?”

“After orange juice, I couldn’t.”

“Maybe I can change your mind.” With that cryptic comment, he put some bills on the table. “Shall we go?”

The female eyes fastened on him were legion, but he seemed oblivious. She liked the feeling of possession as he guided her through the tables to a crowded pastry shop near the end of the plaza.

It was a mistake to go in. While she was salivating over everything in sight, he bought two fabulous-looking treats for them. His dark gaze found hers. “I know you have marzipan in the States, but you’ve never tasted it like they make it here.”

“In that case let’s get enough for everyone at the casa. I’d like it to be my contribution.”

He didn’t interfere as she opened her purse and pulled out enough euros to pay for six more.

After thanking the saleswoman she turned to Remi, who was already eating his and insisted she try it. He put it to her lips. With her purse in one hand and the sack of pastries in the other, he’d left her no choice but to take a bite.

His fingers brushed against her lips, making her light-headed with longing. “No more, Remi,” she cried, laughing and endeavoring to swallow at the same time. By his dashing grin, he was obviously enjoying himself. So was she. Too much.

For the first time since the accident she was beginning to understand her brother’s concern. He wasn’t nearly as worried about Remi as he was Jillian’s willingness to be the guest of a man with the Senor’s importance and background.

More than Remi’s motives, it was her heart Dave was worried about.

My dear brother … if only you knew it was too late for warnings. Seven days too late.

She started to follow Remi out the door, but he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. It came without warning, causing her to bump into him. The sack dropped from her hand.

Jillian reached down for it, then looked up to see another man right outside the shop who bore a faint resemblance to Remi. The other man’s lean body stood frozen in place. Even with her sunglasses on, she could tell the color had drained from his face.

“Javier,” Remi said, acknowledging him.

Her chest felt this stabbing pain before Remi’s hand closed around her wrist. He had no idea of his strength, but she didn’t cry out. Together they left the shop, sweeping past his brother to find the car parked around the corner.

After helping her in, his long, powerful length slid behind the wheel. He sat there without turning on the ignition. Wanting only to comfort him, she reached across the seat and covered the top of his hand welded to the gearshift.

Jillian had no idea how much time went by before Remi drew her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. Weakness attacked her body. When he finally relinquished it, they left the city without speaking. Once out on the highway she sensed him stir.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“YOU’VE STARTED ME thinking big, Senora Gray.” His first words since they’d left the shop.

She angled her head toward him. Relieved and thankful he’d survived one of those black moments in life he hadn’t seen coming she said, “How big?”

“If I were to go along with most of your suggestions, would you be willing to ask for a sabbatical until the harvest begins?”

Her pulse hammered in her throat. He wanted her to stay on the estate until December?

Fighting to keep the tremor out of her voice she said, “To do what?”

“Run the tapas bar and the gift shop. You had me going back at the Taberna. I’ve done some research on EuropaUltimate Tours. Their tour guides come highly recommended. Mr. Santorelli sang your praises.”

“When did you speak to him?” she cried in surprise.

“Yesterday.”

She couldn’t keep up with Remi. “He hardly knows me!”

“A CEO worth his salt will have made a thorough study of the employees in his company. He and your immediate boss, Pia Richter, couldn’t say enough in your favor.”

So he’d been in touch with Pia, too. The head of Jillian’s division hadn’t mentioned talking to Remi. “They probably feel sorry for me and were just being diplomatic,” she whispered.

“It isn’t every day someone has an accident like yours. As for your sterling six-year employment record, that speaks for itself,” he added in a faintly husky tone. “I can tell you right now they won’t be happy if you ask for a leave of absence from your guide duties.”

Jillian was too dazed by his offer to answer him.

He darted her a measuring glance. “With your flair for dealing with people and your ability to carry on conversation in a variety of languages, you’d be a natural to front our project. Instead of riding the bus with your flock for days on end, you could concentrate your efforts here.”

She clasped her hands together. “Now you’re frightening me.”

“How so? After all, it is your brainchild. By December we should have some idea if the project is a solid one.”

“I—I don’t know if I could do it,” she stammered. To stay on the estate that long would throw them into each other’s company every day. And night. She would never want to leave him then. She didn’t now …

“With you in charge we’ll increase our chances of success, but maybe the thought of not traveling around the continent makes you stir-crazy. You and your husband enjoyed married life on the move.” There was a slight pause before he said, “If it’s in your blood, I’d be the last person to try to keep you here.”

He had to be speaking about his ex-wife. Jillian wasn’t anything like her and couldn’t allow him to continue with his faulty assumption.

“That’s not why I’m reticent, Remi.”

She heard his harsh intake of breath. “Then it means you can’t see as well out of that eye as you’ve been pretending.”

He was still feeling guilty about the accident! She couldn’t bear to hear the self-recrimination in his voice.

“No, Remi—”

“‘No what’?” he answered right back.

“You don’t understand.” She shook her head. “When you first heard my proposal, you were thinking of adding some bathrooms and remodeling one of the buildings to supply a cold drink for the tourists. But then I threw in my big ideas, forgetting you have to come up with the extra money.” She paused. “I just wouldn’t want anything to go wrong for you….” Her voice trailed shakily. “You’ve been through enough.”

“So what you’re saying is, you’re worried about me.”

She studied her nails. “Naturally I am.”

“Then why not stay on the estate and help me. With an experiment like this, two heads are better than one.” His compelling argument trumped her deepest fear. If he had any idea how much she loved him, he’d turn the car around and head back to Madrid.

“Tell you what. When we reach the estate I’ll e-mail Pia. Provided she’s all right with it, I’ll do everything I can to make this project a success.”

“Then it’s guaranteed,” he said on a note of satisfaction. With those words her fate was sealed no matter what the future held for her personally.

Jillian was too crazy about Remi to think of leaving him yet. Never—if she had her way.

She felt his glance on her. “You’ve gone quiet on me. Don’t be afraid to take a nap. Today hasn’t been like any other day.”

“Not for you, either,” she murmured, but he heard her.

“Don’t worry. Since my brother sold his part of the olive groves, I’ve run into him several times on my trips to Toledo.”

Jillian let out a gasp. “He sold them?” She shook her head. “How could he have done such a thing?”

“I’m sure I don’t know.”

From the expression she’d seen on Javier’s face, she’d had the strongest feeling he was filled with remorse. His eyes seemed to have been begging Remi. For what exactly? Forgiveness? A chance to talk?

She hadn’t thought she could be more shocked, but it wasn’t true. And what of Remi’s ex-wife? Where was she? Had she tried to come back? Questions riddled Jillian, but Remi wasn’t supplying answers. Why would he when it was none of her business.

“Who owns it now?”

“A vulture who’s been hoping Soleado Goyo would go into receivership. One day in the future I plan to buy the land back.”

“Were your inheritances equal?”

“Sí. He still owns the house to the south of the courtyard. Two years ago I asked Soraya and her family to move in there to keep it up until Javier decides what he’s going to do with it.”

Aghast she cried, “So you lost half an income along with the brother who helped you run everything?”

“It’s all right. In two years I’ve been able to pay off the rest of the loan our father took out years ago.”

She clutched the armrests. “I can’t let you take out a new one! I won’t let you.”

“The money’s minimal and I’ve already seen to the arrangements. Though he didn’t realize it at the time, my father made the wrong business decision. We paid a heavy price, but this venture isn’t the same thing.”

Jillian stared hard at him. “How do you dare put yourself at risk again?”

“For one thing I now have you for a business partner.”

“But I haven’t proven myself yet.”

His fierce eyes glittered. “Do you honestly think we’d be having this conversation if I didn’t have faith in you?”

“That’s very flattering,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Have you forgotten the drought could last several more years? I’m already at risk. Fortunately the enterprise you and I’ve entered into isn’t affected by the weather to keep it going. We can depend on a certain amount of tourist traffic year-round barring terrorist attacks at the airports worldwide or all-out global war,” he said.

“Heaven forbid,” she muttered.

He chuckled. “If that happens we’re all doomed anyway. In the meantime I’d like your ideas about advertising for drop-in customers.”

She gave him a half smile. “Are we talking about the Holy Toledo?” They’d just passed the city in question and would be back on the estate shortly.

“I don’t see why not. Even if the Americans are the only ones who get the point, the association with Toledo will be enough to make a lasting impression on tourists of other nationalities. Especially my countrymen. We Goyos are descendents of one of the Dukes of Toledo.”

“You’re kidding.” She hid her head in her hands. “I had no idea. Your ancestors would probably turn over in their graves.”

“Undoubtedly. That’s why I’m so taken with your suggestion.”

“Dangerous and irreverent, too,” she quipped daringly, producing a laugh from him.

He really liked her idea. She could feel it. “I’m getting excited, Remi.”

“So am I,” he said in his deep, vibrant voice, “and that hasn’t happened in a long time.”

“I know what you mean.” But she wasn’t talking about business. Clearing her throat, she said, “The tour bus crowds will be the best source of advertising, but to get things started we could promote the grand opening in the newspaper.”

Peeking at him out of her good eye she said, “I looked up your Web site on the Internet. We could make an announcement there. I’ll work up a flier to place at the local tourist agencies in Toledo and Madrid. Being a tour guide, I know some of the people. They’ll distribute them for us. If we have a good turnout, word of mouth will do the rest.”

He reached for her hand.

When he’d held it in the hospital, it had been to comfort her. In the pastry shop he’d grasped her wrist for support. This time his strong fingers twined with hers, sending out a different message, one she was afraid to read for fear she would interpret it wrong.

At a glance their joined hands reminded her of the other evening while they’d taken the carriage ride around a portion of the property. In one of the groves the trees had been planted in pairs almost like they were lovers. The odd notion had jumped into her mind then and wouldn’t leave.

When she’d asked Remi about it, he’d drawn the horses to a stop and had turned in the seat to explain. As he spoke to her, the slanting rays of the sun bathed his arresting features, causing his eyes to look slumberous.

“We call these trees cultivars. Since this type is self-sterile or nearly so, we plant them in pairs with a single primary cultivar and a secondary cultivar selected for its ability to fertilize the primary one.”

He’d supplied the answer and she’d been shaken by it.

That odd notion was still in her mind, only now it had taken root in her heart.

Remi didn’t let go until they drove through the gate. After parking the car, he carried her suitcase into the casa and put it down inside the bedroom. “Meet me in the patio room in fifteen minutes. We’ll soak in the pool and plot.”

The glint in those black eyes rocked her to her foundation.

Remi waited in the water for Jillian. They were alone in the house for the first time. Paco was at the plant. Maria and the others had gone to the nearest village of Arges to do some shopping. She’d left food prepared, but after the meal he and Jillian had enjoyed in Madrid, he doubted his guest was hungry yet.

Fifteen minutes turned into twenty-five. He had half a mind to walk back to the bedroom and knock on her door. Just as he started to get out of the pool, she came out on the patio with those long elegant legs exposed carrying a towel over her arm. A thigh-length beach coat in small green and white stripes covered up the suit he couldn’t see. The sunglasses had been removed. Now he could look into her eyes.

His pulse rate picked up. He swam the length of the pool, but didn’t get out. “Before we do anything else, let’s wash your hair.” He lifted a bottle of shampoo he’d brought out with his towel. In the hospital he’d noticed she liked strawberry so he’d purchased something similar.

She looked stunned. “You mean here?”

His mouth quirked. “This isn’t a natural swimming pool. It’s fresh water, no chlorine. A few suds aren’t going to hurt anything. Put your towel down by mine and lie on it with your head hanging over the edge. I’ll support you.”

He sensed her reluctance.

“Didn’t your husband ever wash your hair for you?” Remi held her gaze until she murmured yes.

“I promise not one drop of water will get in your eyes.”

She still seemed hesitant. “Did I just imagine you asking the doctor how soon you could have a shampooing?”

She shook her head.

I can wait as long as you can, Senora.

Another few seconds and she arranged the towel on the tiles next to his. Without removing her modest cover-up, she sat down and lay back, inching her body until he could cup her well-shaped head in his palm.

With his other hand he poured the cool water over her hair, careful to protect her beyond her hairline.

“Oh …” Her sigh invaded his body.

“You like that?” he whispered.

“You can’t imagine.”

Yes, he could. He leaned over her. The lines of her generous, heart-shaped mouth mesmerized him. She had a widow’s peak, too, and shell-like ears. Most women had pierced lobes, but hers were as smooth as petals and her roots were pure gold like the ends of her hair.

From this angle, with the light shining between the latticework, he saw something he hadn’t noticed before. The surgery had changed the configuration of her pupil. It now resembled a pear. Had she already seen it and suffered in silence because that part of her eye would never be restored? His gut clenched.

Jillian …

He felt his eyelids prickle and had to will himself to stop trembling before getting on with the task.

Once he’d steeled back his emotions, he poured some shampoo onto her golden mass of hair and began to massage her scalp. Slowly he covered every inch, all the while breathing in the fruit-scented fragrance. Her skin exuded warmth. He could feel every breath she took.

As he worked up a lather, his senses filled until his body grew heavy with longing for this woman who was still in mourning for her husband. Remi had no right to touch her except like this. He would drag it out as long as she would let him.

“You have magic in your fingers, Senor.”

“When we pick the olives, we have to treat them like newborn babies.”

Her lips curved. “One day when you have your own babies, they’ll be lucky to have you for their father.”

His hands stilled in her hair. “You think?”

“I know. I’ve been the recipient of your strength and tenderness when I needed help most. Maybe it comes from working with the gift from the gods. I read that Homer called olive oil ‘liquid gold’.”

“That’s what it is,” Remi mused aloud, studying the golden strands he swirled in his fingers.

“I want to watch you make it.”

He liked the sound of that. “Next week I’ll walk you through the process. Then you can decide which parts will be of interest to the tourists.”

“I’m sure every aspect will be utterly fascinating.”

Her enthusiasm made him see everything through new eyes. No matter what life threw at her, she was a woman who embraced it head-on. Being in her company imbued him with an excitement he’d never experienced before. Not like this.

Smothering a groan because this erotic experience had to come to an end, he began to rinse out the suds, but he took his time.

“How does that feel?” he said at last, giving her one last rinse.

She reached behind her head and pulled on one of the strands, trying to break the tension hanging thick in the air. “Hear that?” she laughed softly. “I’m squeaky clean for the first time in over a week. What luxury.”

He squeezed as much water as he could out of her hair. “Now hold still while I get you dry.”

Remi reached for his towel and wrapped it turban style around her head, making sure no water dripped down her forehead. “Go ahead and sit up.”

While she did his bidding he levered himself out of the pool onto the tiles. “Let me help.” He held out his hand and pulled her to her feet before letting go. Maybe he was mistaken, but he thought she was trembling. Then again he was so affected by her nearness, it could have been him.

He thrust his hand through his damp hair in frustration, wondering how she would react if he suggested they both get back in the pool and let the cool water lap against their bodies. This ache for her was so real it was driving him out of his mind.

She sat down in the nearest chair to finish drying her hair, then she looked up at him. “Tell me what I can do to repay you.”

Remi thought she sounded way too composed after what he’d just experienced touching her like that. He sank down in the other chair. “You already have. Today you agreed to be my business partner, pending your company’s willingness to give you a leave of absence.” Her brother was another matter but he’d think about that later. “I’ve been operating for a long time without one.”

“That won’t be a problem. Pia already told me to take all the time I need before coming back. At this point it’s just a formality to tell her.”

“Then I’m relieved.” Just keep on talking, Goyo, before you give yourself away and grab her. Taking a deep breath he said, “How long do your tour groups usually stop at a vineyard?”

“Two hours from start to finish.”

“That sounds doable here.”

“I don’t know. Once they start eating Soleado Goyo tapas, we’ll never be able to get rid of them. I’ll build the cost of soft drinks into the itinerary price. Food and wine will be extra. We’ll make them pay cash.” He heard the satisfaction in her voice. “You’ll bring in a small fortune on that alone.”

“With your business savvy, I don’t doubt it.” Apparently business was the only thing on her mind, or was it? She was a deep one.

“I think we should get some postcards made up showing the mill house and the olive press house with the groves in the background. We’ll sell them in the store. It’s another great way to advertise and keep the cost down. Once we’ve set our budget, I promise we won’t go over it. What do you think?”

I can’t take sitting next to you without touching you.

“I think we have our work cut out for us.”

“We do. One of the things we haven’t talked about is the furniture for the bar. If it held a maximum of sixty people, then we’d need maybe eight large, round tables that could seat eight, but bistro size would be more charming.”

“We have a couple of old refectory tables and matching armoires that haven’t seen use in years.”

She let out a happy sound. “How old are they?”

“Seventeenth century. Cherry wood with lyre-styled legs.”

Another squeal came out of her. “Are they very long?”

“They can seat sixteen each.”

“Oh, Remi … if we had benches built on either side of the entry, we could put the tables there and have room for all the chairs and bistro tables.”

Jillian had no idea how tempting she looked with her golden hair in sensual disarray.

“I’ll rummage up our old coat of arms. It used to hang in the foyer, but my mother thought it made the house feel like a fortress so it’s stored upstairs. In fact there’s a lot of furniture we could bring down including a deacon’s chair.”

“When can we look at everything?”

“I’ll tell Maria to show you around any time you’d like.”

“You won’t be sorry about this, Remi. I’ll do it all while you concentrate on running your company. I don’t want you to have to worry about a thing.”

Where had this woman come from? Eight days ago he hadn’t known of her existence. And now …

The urge to take her to bed and make passionate love to her had turned into literal pain because he was forced to deny himself, but she wasn’t ready emotionally. He needed to do something fast before he made a mistake that could ruin everything.

“I’ll be back with our lunch.”

Without waiting for her response he strode to the passageway leading to the kitchen. As he entered it, Paco was coming in through the back door. One look at his face and Remi knew something was wrong.

“I’ve been trying to reach you on the phone. Eduardo got a deep gash between his thumb and index finger on one of the machines. We stopped the bleeding the best we could. Diego and Juan drove him to the clinic in Arges.”

Remi grimaced. First Jillian, now Eduardo. All in one week.

“That means he’ll be off the job for a while. I’ll go to Arges and check on him, then drive over to their house and assure his wife she doesn’t have to worry about expenses his insurance doesn’t cover.”

Paco nodded. “Shall I call Jorge to fill in tomorrow? He called again this morning asking if we’d consider rehiring him.”

“Go ahead. Tell him I’ll talk to him about a permanent job after he goes off shift.”

Thank heaven Remi had gone to the kitchen. Jillian couldn’t have maintained her composure any longer and ran through the house to the bedroom with his towel. Her legs felt as insubstantial as mush.

She’d planned to cool off in the pool, but that was before he’d offered to wash her hair. The need to be touched by him had been so strong she’d willingly put herself in his hands. She would have let him do anything to her just now and she was sure he knew it!