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“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 café 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 béchamel 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.”
