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Alex steadied her as she stood. “Take it slow.”
Outside, Bella gave her a hug. “I’m so sorry about this.”
Gabriel said nothing, his expression frustrated and guilty.
“It’s nothing,” Maria insisted. “I’ll be fine.”
At last she and Alex were allowed to escape. He drove the cart expertly, of course. And though she couldn’t remember for sure where all the turns were, Alex tracked the route without error.
Back at their lodging, she held him off with an upraised hand. “I can walk inside.” Still wearing a damp swimsuit, she felt distinctly at a disadvantage, even though Alex was half-naked, as well. Perhaps because Alex was half-naked. Despite her pounding headache, she wasn’t immune to his overt masculinity.
She was accustomed to seeing him dressed to the nines, sartorial perfection from head to toe. And that man was wildly attractive.
But something about all the bare skin between them sent a pulse thrumming low in her belly. Alex’s lightly hair dusted chest and powerful thighs said louder than words that he was a virile man in his prime. If she hadn’t been indisposed, she’d have been hard-pressed not to jump his bones. As it was, she had to admire him with a modicum of restraint.
Though she would die before admitting it, she was woozy by the time they made it inside and to her room. Alex allowed her to move at her own pace, but he stayed close. At last, she faced him with a wry smile. “I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be careful, I promise.”
“Is that wise?” She could see that he didn’t like her choice. But short of tying her to a chair, he had no recourse but to step back and close the bedroom door.
When he was gone, her legs gave out and she sat down on the side of the bed. Her head hurt like crazy. When she chanced a peek in the mirror over the dresser, she groaned. Her eye and part of her cheek were swollen, giving her face an odd, lopsided look.
Well, if she’d ever had any hope of luring Alex into her bed, all bets were off. He might be willing to kiss hot-and-sweaty Maria, but what guy would be attracted to a woman who looked like she’d gone three rounds with a boxing champ?
Dispirited and hurting, she gathered her clean undies and her short gown and robe. Their deep plum color should have boosted her spirits, but all she could think about was how her eye was probably going to be a perfect match.
It actually hurt for the water in the shower to hit her face, so she turned the faucet away and managed to wash the chlorine out of her hair without too much discomfort. After drying off and donning her sleepwear, she sat and dried her hair.
There were times—now being one of them—that she debated cutting her hair. Its length was pure vanity. But the thought of chopping it off made her wince. So she put up with the time it took to wash and dry it.
When she was done, her aches and pains had begun to make themselves felt in earnest. The doctor had left some painkillers. But she needed to take them with food. And, besides, she was starving.
Barefoot, she padded into the living room. Her robe was thigh length, but perfectly respectable, especially given the climate. She found Alex sprawled on the sofa, flipping channels. He was dressed in the casual shirt and slacks he had worn on arrival.
He jumped to his feet. “The food’s in the kitchen. Are you interested in eating?”
She nodded, a lump in her throat. The genuine concern on his face and in his dark eyes made her feel cared for and protected. It was a warm, fuzzy sensation. “I’m really hungry,” she said softly.
He insisted on seating her at the table and serving her plate from the variety of dishes on the counter.
Maria was barely conscious of what she ate. The food was hot and delicious, but she tasted little of it. She was far too aware of the tension in the room. She remembered their kiss earlier in the day, and it was a good bet Alex did, too.
Six (#u6475eb09-1048-5d04-9160-b29e47bf3f82)
Alex tried not to let Maria see how worried he was about her. Fatigue was visible in the curve of her shoulders and the pale cast of her skin. She seemed to be holding herself upright by sheer stubbornness.
The knot where the volleyball had made contact with her eye socket had already gone down some, but the bruise was blooming rapidly.
He joined her at the table to eat, though he had no real interest in food. “I was going to offer you a glass of wine,” he said. “But I thought better of it. Didn’t seem like a good idea if you’re taking pain pills.”
She pulled a prescription bottle from the pocket of her robe. “The doctor said I can take two at a time, but I’m going to start with one and see how I do.”
As he watched, she shook one tablet into her hand and washed it down with water. When her head tilted back, the silky fabric of her nightwear shifted and pulled, making it clear that she was bare underneath. Which made perfect sense, of course. But it also played havoc with his physical state.
He cleared his throat. “It’s not late, but you may want to go on to bed.”
She shook her head. “I’ve only now adjusted to the time change. I don’t want to start over again. Do you think we could watch a movie?”
He would have done anything she asked in that moment. “Of course,” he said, the words gruff.
When they finished their meal, he gathered the dishes and put them in the sink. Maria sat staring at him. “This is weird,” she said.
He turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”
“We have a working relationship. And a very important job to do. But suddenly you’re having to play nurse. I’m sorry.”
He couldn’t help himself. Wiping his hands on a dry cloth, he went to her and gathered her hair gently, tucking it over her shoulder so it covered one breast. “Nothing is weird unless we let it be. I kissed you today, Maria. And you kissed me back. Your bump on the head is unfortunate, but I don’t regret this time together.”
Taking her hand in his, he slowly pulled her to her feet.
When he scooped her into his arms, she protested as she had earlier. “I can walk into the living room.”
His arms tightened a fraction. He was a bit drunk on the smell and feel of her. “Humor me. I happen to like having you in my arms.”
When he set her gently on the sofa, she stared up at him, wide-eyed. “Are you sure about this?”
She wasn’t referring to the movie, of course. “I’m not sure about anything here in Florida,” he joked. “Least of all this. But I plan to go with the flow.”
He felt her gaze boring into his back as he selected a disc and inserted it into the Blu-ray player and muted the volume. The movie didn’t really matter. He had other plans.
When he joined her, she wrapped her arms around her waist and tugged at the hem of her robe. “I’ve known you for a very long time, Alex...and even on your wildest days, I’d never call you a go-with-the-flow kind of guy.”
Her lips quirked, her teasing smile softening what might have been a criticism. But the gentle light in her eyes told him she understood what he was saying.
An attack of conscience struck him as he settled into the soft, plump couch cushions. “If you’d rather watch this alone, I’ll leave you. I’ve plenty of work to do in my room.”
One small hand landed on his thigh...not moving...just searing him with heat. “I want you to stay.”
He swallowed, for one brief second questioning his sanity. There was a better than even chance that Gabriel Montoro had plans for Maria. Could Alex risk offending a member of the royal family in the midst of delicate negotiations?
But when his hand closed over Maria’s, their fingers twining together, he sucked in a deep breath as he realized that for once in his life he was prepared to put his personal wishes and feelings before his obligations.
Gently, giving her every chance to protest, he scooped her into his lap. Her head settled against his collarbone as if he had been holding her like this for a lifetime. “How do you feel?” he asked.
She stroked his jaw with a single finger. “Well enough for whatever you have in mind.”
“I seriously doubt that.” If she knew what he was thinking, what he wanted, she might run for the hills. “We’ll take this slow,” he promised. “Tonight and always. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“I’m a grown woman, Alex. You may have a lot of responsibilities, but I’m not one of them.”
The spark of temper reminded him that his Maria was a female of strength and purpose. “I can’t apologize for wanting to take care of you. You bring out the gentleman in me.”
She curled a hand behind his neck, dragging his head lower to press her lips to his. “Maybe I don’t want the gentleman,” she muttered. “Kiss me, Alex.”
Whatever measure of control he’d maintained up until that second finally snapped. Easing her down onto her back, he parted the lapels of her robe. Lust was a kick to his chest. But it was wrapped in wonder and tenderness. He touched a tight, rosy nipple. “You’re so damned beautiful.” The words stuck in his throat. He felt he could barely breathe.
“I look like a clown.”
He heard the feminine pique in her words and had to smile. “You may be a trifle the worse for wear, dear Maria, but it only makes me want you more.”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Is that how you win over your conquests? With outright lies?”
He put his hand, palm flat over her heart, cupping the curves of her breast. “I work too hard to have much of a personal life,” he said, willing to be brutally honest if it meant relieving her misgivings. “And when I do spend time with a woman, I am always honest.”
“Somehow, I believe you.” Her chest rose and fell with her quickened breathing. Despite her poor face, all he could see was the arousal darkening her gaze.
The sofa was oversize and perfectly designed for the things he had in mind. Easing down beside her on one elbow, he separated the robe completely, taking in the minuscule pair of satiny black undies she wore. He traced the tiny elastic edging, feeling the soft skin of her flat stomach.
Reluctantly, he gave her the truth he had promised. “We’re not going to be reckless, Maria. I draw the line at making love to an injured woman.”
“That’s not fair. I get a vote, don’t I?”
He shook his head. “Not tonight.” Though it would cost him dearly, he decided he could play with fire. Moving carefully so as not to cause her any distress, he sucked in a sharp breath when touching her hardened his sex to the point of pain. “God, you make me crazy,” he groaned.
Kissing her was like diving into a pool of quicksand. But aligning their bodies so that warm, feminine flesh nestled against him was far worse. Shaking, he slid a hand between her legs, noting the warmth and dampness that told him she was ready for his possession.
The foreplay tormented them both. Though he would have liked to pleasure her until she came apart in his arms, he feared her poor head would suffer for the orgasm. Reluctantly, he moved his fingers to less volatile territory.
She smelled of exotic shower gel and honeysuckle shampoo. Unable to resist a taste, he caught one nipple between his teeth and tugged gently. Maria cried out, her face now flushed with wild color. “Alex, please,” she begged, panting.
Temptation beckoned. The prospect of burying himself inside her and satisfying the craving that had built for weeks was almost irresistible. He could almost feel the warm clasp of her sex on his.
But when her fingers went to the buttons of his shirt, he stopped her, shuddering and dragging in great lungfuls of air as he struggled for control. “We can’t. We can’t. Not tonight.”
Had she been a hundred percent, she would have done everything in her power to change his mind. He knew that. But she was weak and hurting, her energy at a low ebb.
Tears glistened on her eyelashes, making him feel like the world’s biggest cad. “Go away,” she cried.
That was one request he couldn’t honor. He sat up, moving so that she rested her full length on her side with her head in his lap, her cheek on his thigh. Reaching for the remote, he backed to the opening scene and raised the volume. The film was a black-and-white classic.
He touched her forehead. “Rest, sweetheart. Please.”
Though her eyes were open, he couldn’t see her expression. For a little while, her body was tense, but gradually he felt her relax. When he thought she was half-asleep, he began to stroke her hair.
The experience changed him. He recognized the seismic shift and marveled at it. Work and pleasing his father had driven his life for so long he scarcely remembered any other way. But tonight...with Maria...he found himself yearning for something he couldn’t even identify.
He had never considered himself a jealous man. The truth was, he had never cared enough before for such an emotion to be an issue.
Maria responded to him physically. There was no question of that. But she guarded her feelings and emotions. Did she want anything more from him than physical release?
The thing that bothered him the most was the notion that she might be eventually won over by the bad-boy prince, Gabriel. The other man was apparently irresistible to women. His exploits were the fodder of international gossip rags, even without a royal role.
Worse still was the inescapable truth that Gabriel liked and admired Maria, and vice versa. If such a relationship softened Gabriel to the notion of the Montoros reclaiming the monarchy, could Alex in all good conscience stand in the way? He had devoted weeks and months of his life and his career to affecting this change for the good of Alma.
If a match between Gabriel and Maria made the Montoros more receptive to the proposal, the smartest thing for Alex to do was step aside. But every cell in his body rejected the idea. He’d perfected the art of being a politician first and a man second. Now, integrity be damned, the idea was repugnant to him.
He was not here in Florida, however, to pursue his own agenda. He had been sent as deputy prime minister of commerce to solidify an ancient bond that would take Alma with confidence into the twenty-first century as a world player.
How could he betray the trust of his people for his own selfish ends?
At last, Maria’s steady breathing told him she was asleep. Her eyelashes, a shade darker than her hair, fanned out on her cheeks. He knew he probably should have made sure she iced her face, but in his urge to find intimacy with her, the thought had escaped him.
Now, he couldn’t bear to wake her.
The medicine had done its work. When he eased out from under her and stood, she barely stirred. Unfortunately, her robe was still unbelted, her breasts bared to his hungry gaze.
Looking at her without her knowledge seemed wrong. Carefully, he tucked the garment around her and knotted the sash. Leaving her for a moment, he went into her bedroom and turned down the covers of her bed. He flipped on a small light in the bathroom and closed the door except for a narrow crack. She might awaken confused in the night.
When he returned to the living room, his heart contracted in his chest. She was smiling in her sleep. He would give a hell of a lot to know if he figured in that pleasant dream.
Gritting his teeth against the rush of need that assaulted him, he bent and lifted her carefully into his arms. Though her robe sheltered her now, he had a very good memory.
Maria was limp in his arms. He worried about that, but he had to trust that the doctor knew his business. Tucking her into bed, he adjusted the sheet and the light, summer-weight comforter. He doubted he would sleep much. Unappeased sexual arousal and a very real concern about Maria’s injury guaranteed a wakeful night.
Pulling his phone from his pocket, he set the alarm. He would check on her every hour. She would never know, but it would give him peace of mind.
* * *
Maria stretched and winced as her head throbbed. Oh, Lordy. All of the events of yesterday came flooding back in living color...including the memory of Alex’s big warm hands on her body.
She flushed from head to toe. And as she did, she grimaced when she realized she had no clue how she had made it from the sofa to the bed. Alex seemed to have a thing for carrying her, so that was a good guess.
Somehow, the thought of him looking after her when she was asleep made her uneasy. Vulnerability was dangerous. She needed to be on her guard, because it would be a mistake to let Alex get too close until she knew what he had in mind.
A business-trip fling was one thing. His position was secure. She had the most to lose.
But what if he wanted more? Back in Alma life would revert to the status quo. Alex would continue to be wealthy and powerful and influential while Maria would go back to being the bastard daughter of a laundress.
That wasn’t self-pity talking. It was simply the cold, hard truth.
When she climbed out of bed and stood upright, her head throbbed, but not too badly. The worst part was looking in the bathroom mirror. Holy cow. It was a good thing she had makeup with her. It was going to take a deft hand to ensure her face was presentable for a day with the Montoros.
A day with the Montoros. She chuckled out loud. That sounded like a television series. The trouble was, Maria didn’t have the luxury of changing the channel. She had to dress and play her part. Even if today’s agenda was ostensibly relaxation and recreation, she and Alex were still officially on the clock. Everything they said or did could have implications for the new regime. That responsibility was never far from her mind.
It took her a half hour to dress and cover up the worst of the bruising around her eye socket. By parting her hair differently and leaving one side loose to fall across her cheek, she managed to improve her appearance significantly.
The headache was bearable this morning, so she decided to skip the prescription stuff in favor of simple ibuprofen. Only then did she notice the small folded slip of paper on the bedside table.
Picking up the note with fingers that trembled, she opened it and studied the bold, masculine scrawl...
