Minding Her Boss's Business

He handed her a plate. “We’ve both been working nonstop for weeks. I think we deserve a break.”

Maria surveyed the bounty with anticipation. Fresh seafood, everything from shrimp cocktail to crab legs to raw oysters, filled silver trays to overflowing. The various salads and breads were no less appealing.

She made her choices and followed Alex to a small table for two. The glass doors were designed to be open for access to the patio, but it was much too hot at the moment for anyone to go outside.

She sat down, tugging the hem of her dress to a decorous level. Alex was in an odd mood. In a tiny pocket she carried a tube of lipstick and a small vial of tablets. Shaking two ibuprofen into her palm, she handed them across the table. “Your head is killing you, I can tell. Take these.”

He scowled but didn’t argue. She knew that men in general and this one in particular hated showing weakness of any kind. It was a sign of his discomfort that he didn’t refuse.

They ate in silence for long minutes. The quiet didn’t bother Maria. She’d grown up without brothers or sisters and had often spent time alone at home when her mother was at work.

Tonight, however, she was more aware than usual of her boss. It was no surprise that she’d had a bit of a crush on him over the years. Alex was virile, lean and muscular. Even in the expensive suits he wore, his physical power was evident. Thick black hair, cut conservatively, and deep brown eyes added up to an extremely masculine and sexy man.

In London, she had worked as his secretary. Once they all returned to Alma, however, she had been promoted to her current assignment in media and PR. Her position fell under the auspices of the Ministry of Commerce, but she did not ordinarily answer directly to Alex. For this assignment, however, he was definitely in charge. And that was a problem. Because the longer she knew him, the more she was afraid he would pick up on her reluctant attraction.

She had no illusions on that score. Alex was the eldest son of an aristocratic Alma family. He would marry one day and marry well. But not someone like Maria. Not a woman whose mother had been a laundress in a seedy neighborhood in London to make ends meet.

Maria was practical and ambitious. She would get ahead by virtue of hard work and innate talent. But, once in a while, she let herself fantasize about sharing Alex’s bed. All that hard muscle and warm skin at her disposal. A shiver snaked its way from the nape of her neck to a spot low in her belly. Thankfully, Alex was oblivious to her imagination.

He was discreet about his relationships. A very private man with a fine-tuned sense of propriety. She’d seen the hint of disapproval in his gaze tonight as he assessed her party dress. Why, she couldn’t say. By Miami standards, her outfit was tame.

Nevertheless, she knew she had blotted her copybook with Alex. Perhaps he thought her décolletage was too low or her skirt too high. Though the man was incredibly appealing, even she could admit he had a stuffy side. Perhaps she would have teased him had he not looked so grim faced. It occurred to her that he took this venture very personally. As if it was solely up to him to convince the Montoros to accept the mantle of the monarchy once again.

By the time they’d finished eating, the lines at the corners of Alex’s mouth had disappeared. Between the food and the painkillers, he seemed finally to have relaxed. Still, she couldn’t put a finger on what bothered her about his interaction with Gabriel Montoro. Instead of being conciliatory and cajoling, he’d been borderline antagonistic.

It made no sense.

She sipped a glass of Chablis and gazed out over the diverse group of people. The Alma delegation actually outnumbered the Montoros, but the Montoros had invited numerous friends and associates.

Rafael Montoro III was the life of the party. His rugged features belied his age. Though he had already turned fifty, he could pass for a man a decade younger. Did he harbor resentment over being bypassed for the throne?

His oldest son, Rafael IV—known as Rafe—was charming and affable and extremely self-possessed, though he had yet to hit thirty. Except for his age, it was not a stretch to see him as king of Alma. Rafe’s sister, Bella, was much like her dad, the center of attention and a vivacious extrovert. But she was very young, only twenty-three if Maria remembered correctly.

Then there was Gabriel, who was another story. And also a close cousin, Juan Carlos, who had been raised with the Montoro siblings after his parents’ deaths. Neither Gabriel nor Juan Carlos would be likely to play much of a role in the upcoming transition, except for supporting Rafael IV.

The others present were of little interest at this point. It would be Maria’s job to craft the image of a royal family that was strong and moral and charismatic. The only person who might make her job difficult was Gabriel. Who knew what skeletons were hidden in his closet. It would be up to her to excavate them and make sure they didn’t embarrass the Montoro family in the midst of this sea change.

Gabriel, despite his reputation, was not so bad, as far as she could tell. Perhaps a bit cynical, almost definitely a player. Women were always drawn to that kind of fallen-angel mystique.

“I don’t know how this is going to go.”

She jumped when Alex spoke. She’d been so deep in her thoughts he had startled her. She searched his face. “I’ve never heard you give voice to the possibility that we might not prevail.”

His lips twisted. “Well, look at them. Why do they need Alma or royal titles? The whole family is practically royalty here in the States. If you or I were in their shoes, would we give up all this?”

“Maybe. It’s hard to say.” Maria pursed her lips. “Everyone likes knowing where he or she comes from. The Montoros’ family history goes back hundreds of years. I imagine that once they have some time to think about it they’ll be excited about renewing those ties.”

“I hope you’re right.”

At the opposite end of the room, a small orchestra began tuning up. When the musicians launched into their first song, Alex stood and held out his hand. “Do you feel like dancing?”

Her heart fluttered and lifted. “I always feel like dancing.”

As he led her out onto the floor, she tried not to stiffen up. That would be a dead giveaway that she was nervous.

Alex held her firmly with masculine confidence that was appealing. She was a strong, capable woman, but to move like this... Well, that was another thing entirely. Here she could give in to the mastery of the dance. Alex was in charge, and she was able to let go and let him steer their course.

He smelled of crisp, starched cotton and warm male skin. She was almost certain she caught a whiff of the hotel’s signature shower gel. Her heart pounded in her chest, and her knees trembled. This was the first time they had ever been so close.

In Alma, she couldn’t think of a single social occasion when she and Alex had interacted so personally. And for such a length of time. Perhaps that was why she felt a change in him.

The first song ended and a second began. Alex made no move to release her. Since she had no real desire to be released, she followed where he led. A less pragmatic woman might have called the moment romantic. Maria was neither a romantic nor a wishful thinker. But even a realist could choose to live in the moment once in a while.

Life was serious business most of the time. A woman could be excused for indulging herself on occasion. And Alex Ramon was definitely an indulgence worth savoring.

Two (#ulink_aa16e969-5a39-552c-a63e-32617bf8483c)

Alex had made a tactical error. He knew it as soon as he took Maria in his arms. Given the situation, he’d assumed that dancing was a socially acceptable convention...a polite way to pass the time.

He was wrong. Dead wrong. No matter the public venue nor the circumspect way in which he held her, nothing could erase the fact that she was soft and warm in his embrace. The slick fabric of her dress did nothing to disguise the feminine skin beneath.

He found his breath caught in his throat, lodged there by a sharp stab of hunger that caught him off guard. He’d worked so hard these past weeks that he’d let his personal needs slide. Celibacy was neither smart nor sustainable for a man his age. Certainly not when faced with such a deliciously carnal temptation.

How had he never noticed that Maria was such a tall woman...or that her cheek reached his shoulder at exactly the right spot? When he couldn’t think of a good reason to let her go, one dance turned into three. Inevitably, his body responded to her nearness.

He was in heaven and hell, shuddering with arousal and unable to do a thing about it.

When Gabriel brushed past them, his petite sister in his arms, Alex remembered what he had meant to say earlier. “Maria...”

“Hmm?”

Her voice had the warm, honeyed sound of a woman pleasured by her lover. Alex cleared his throat. “You need to be careful around Gabriel Montoro.”

Maria’s reaction was unmistakable. She went rigid in Alex’s arms and pulled away. “Excuse me?” Beautiful eyes glared at him.

He tried to continue the dance, but Maria was having none of it. So Alex soldiered on. “He’s a mature, experienced man, and you’re not accustomed to running in these circles. I’d hate to see him take advantage of you.”

Maria went pale but for two spots of hectic color on her cheekbones. “Your concern is duly noted,” she said, the words icy. “But you’ll have to trust my judgment, I’m afraid. Because I don’t plan to avoid him. My job is actually to get close to him, to learn his secrets, to do damage control. And I’m not a child, Alex. I’m insulted by your insinuation.”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” he said. “But I saw the way he looked at you.”

“The man would flirt with a block of wood. I get that. But I certainly don’t need you or anyone else to protect me from the big bad wolf.”

“You’re angry.”

“Damn straight, I’m angry.” Her eyes snapped with the force of her displeasure. “I was invited to be part of this delegation, and I accepted. I’m here to do a job and to do it to the best of my ability. This assignment means as much to me as it does to you. So I’ll thank you to keep your advice to yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” he said stiffly.