The Montoros Dynasty

Both of them were naked. Upright. He could lift her and take her again right now. The image made him breathless.

“I’ll come back,” she said.

As a bit of insurance, he confiscated her bra and undies and stuffed them in a dresser drawer. “I want you to think of me when you’re walking half-naked down the hall.”

“I can’t do that,” she said, her expression aghast. “What if someone sees?”

“I suppose you’d better hurry.”

* * *

Maria scuttled down the carpeted hallway, her arms wrapped around her waist. The building was air-conditioned to arctic levels, and she knew her bare breasts were noticeable beneath her thin top. The knowledge made her face hot, but not as much as reliving what had just transpired in Alex’s suite.

If she had not promised to return, there was a good chance she would have avoided him until Monday. Could he read her that well?

Once safely inside her own room, she rested her back against the door, breathing rapidly. She was not the kind of woman who had affairs right under the noses of people who knew her...who expected her to be hardworking and ethical and dedicated to Alma’s cause.

Were all those expectations in her head? Maybe people were just people...fallible, unable to predict, good and bad.

Wanting Alex as a lover didn’t negate her contributions to the work of the delegation. As a group, the delegation had been sent to Miami with express instructions to take the weekends off. Healthy, productive humans knew how to relax. So why was Maria freaked out about the notion of being spontaneous and irresponsible with Alex Ramon?

Avoiding her own question, she found a straw tote that looked more like a purse than a suitcase and began stuffing it with essentials: toiletries, clean undies, her billfold, a comfy pair of yoga pants and a loose cotton top. The paperback novel she was in the midst of.

On second thought, she took the book out of the bag. Chances were, Alex didn’t plan to give her much opportunity for reading.

When she had rounded up everything she thought she might need for the weekend, she stared at the perfectly made bed. Damn. She wasn’t cut out for a life of deception and hanky-panky. Placing the tote beside the door, she set to work making the room look lived-in.

She tossed the covers until the bed was a tumbled mess. Then she went into the bathroom, dampened a towel and washcloth and crumpled them on the floor. Finally, she opened a packet of soap and wet it before placing it in the shower.

Feeling more than a little ridiculous, she examined her quarters with an eagle eye. The delegation was well-known already, at least within the hotel. Service workers noticed all sorts of intimate details. Maria wanted to make it perfectly clear to anyone who might be paying attention that she had definitely slept in her own room, tonight...not in room 1724.

Grimacing at the realization that she would likely have to repeat this same charade tomorrow afternoon, she shook her head at her own foolishness and decided she had kept Alex waiting long enough.

Opening the door to the hallway a crack, she gazed left and right. No one in sight. Though she managed to hold up her head and walk with confidence down the corridor, around the atrium and back to the far wing, her heart was beating so rapidly she felt dizzy.

When she knocked on Alex’s door, and he opened it immediately, she practically fell into his arms. “No one saw me,” she whispered.

Alex was dressed again...in the same clothes he had worn earlier, minus the shoes and socks. His bare feet were long and sexy.

He took her shoulders in his hands, looking at her with alarm. “You’re shaking, Maria.”

“Adrenaline,” she said on a sigh, thrusting her bag into his arms and dropping into an armchair. “I think I need a drink.”

He poured her a glass of white wine and crouched at her side, his warm, dark eyes dancing with amusement. “If I had known it was such a big deal, I would have gone to your room myself.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And let you riffle through my unmentionables? I don’t think so. We don’t know each other that well.”

He stroked a finger down her arm, making her shiver. “I’ve seen you naked,” he said solemnly. “I think I’m allowed to touch your underwear.”

“It’s a slippery slope. First it’s the underwear and next thing you know you’ll be asking me to spend the night.”

His chiseled, masculine lips quirked. “I think I already did.”

She stared at him moodily. They were so close at this angle all she had to do was lean forward three or four inches and she could touch her mouth to his. “Do you really think we can concentrate on work in between...um...you know?”

His breath was warm on her cheek. “I have no idea. But I’m willing to find out. Besides, we’re supposed to be taking the weekend off.”

“Doesn’t matter. You and I both know that we have to make sure the proposal is ready for the briefing.”

“We’ll get it done, I promise. I work best under pressure.”

“And what if we can’t stop having sex? What if we ravage each other 24/7 until we barely know if it’s day or night?”

Ten (#u6475eb09-1048-5d04-9160-b29e47bf3f82)

Alex’s erection had abated during Maria’s absence. But if she planned to say things like that to him, how was he supposed to keep his head? His imagination exhibited a sudden astounding propensity for cinematic sexual fantasy. Clearing his throat, he rose to his feet and put some distance between them. “I suppose that’s a risk we’ll have to take.”

The chair was oversize. Maria had curled her legs beneath her and huddled into the depths of the cushions until it seemed as if she were trying to become invisible.

Small, perfect white teeth mauled her bottom lip. “You’re not taking me seriously.”

His hoarse chuckle was strained. “I’ve never been more serious. But I’d feel a whole lot better if you weren’t regarding spending two days and nights with me as the equivalent of going in for a root canal. Sex is fun, Maria.”

“Not with you.”

She’d spoken rapidly and with conviction. Without the hint of a smile on her face. “I’m almost afraid to ask you to elaborate,” he muttered, telling himself grown men didn’t get their feelings hurt.

Maria’s hands gripped the arms of the chair, her knuckles white. “It wasn’t fun earlier. Earth-shattering, maybe. Mind-blowing. Unequivocally wonderful. But not fun. That’s a word for carnival rides and animated movies and walking barefoot in the rain.”

Her earnest speech might have been good for his ego if she didn’t seemed so distressed.

He scooped her out of the chair and sat back down with her in his lap. “You’re overthinking this, Maria.” He nuzzled her ear. “Maybe we didn’t start with fun. I’ll give you that one. But we’ll get there. Eventually. Good sex, I think, hits all the positive adjectives eventually.”

She sighed, resting her cheek against his heart. “Have you had bad sex?”

“Enough to know the difference.” He stroked her hair. “Trust me, sweetheart. Trust us.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“And you’re making it far too complicated. We’re here in this room. A man and a woman. Attracted to each other. Unattached. With time on our hands. What makes you think something bad is going to happen?”

“Superstition?”

He laughed ruefully. It was hard to argue the point that the old ways in Alma were laden with superstition. Legends. Folk tales. Fables delineating the fates of those who tempted the gods. Alma’s was a culture steeped in centuries of oral tradition.

“You’re a thoroughly modern woman. We’re here representing the best and brightest of a country eager to make its mark on a new millennium. Relax. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“I think it’s all those years of my mother warning me that misbehavior on my part would have drastic consequences. It was a very effective deterrent.”