Minding Her Boss's Business

She was unable to dissuade him. Outside the restaurant, he steered her toward a store she hadn’t entered because it was mostly jewelry. “What are you doing?” she asked, frowning.

“I need your advice.” He pointed toward a glass case. “Which one is the prettiest? The palm tree? Or the crab...”

She gaped. “Well, uh...” She studied the two pieces. Both were gold with delicate chains. The palm tree had a tiny diamond coconut. The crab sported two emerald eyes. “They’re each beautiful.”

“But?”

“Well, if I had to pick, I’d go for the crab. He’s whimsical.”

“Fair enough.” He handed the salesclerk a platinum card.

Still baffled, Maria watched him complete the transaction. As they left the shop, Gabriel took her hand and pressed the small, lime-green bag into her palm. “This is my apology,” he said. “For being a jerk yesterday. You’re doing your best to help my family, and even if we don’t really care, it was rude of me to say so.”

Maria shoved the bag back at him, appalled. “Oh, no, Mr. Montoro. That’s not necessary. Not at all. You don’t owe me any apologies.”

“I told you to call me Gabriel.”

“Gabriel, then. It would be very inappropriate of me to accept such a valuable gift.”

“Forgive me for being crass, but this is nothing. Just a way for me to soothe my conscience.” He gave her a crooked smile. “I don’t want you to judge my family by my behavior. I’ve gotta run. Sleep well, Maria.”

As quickly as he had appeared, he was gone.

Maria stared at the small bag in her hand, feeling a coil of unease settle in her stomach. But what else could she have done? She couldn’t afford to offend a member of the royal family.

A masculine voice, cold and clipped, interrupted her reverie. “I think I was wrong about you, Maria. I thought you were too inexperienced and naive to deal with the likes of Gabriel Montoro. But apparently you know exactly what you’re doing.”

She looked up to find Alex regarding her with disdain and patent disapproval. “This isn’t what it looks like,” she said.

“Cliché, my dear. Cliché. A man gives a woman he barely knows jewelry? I think I’m pretty clear about the facts.”

Her temper started to simmer. “First of all, you’re way out of line. Second of all, I don’t have to explain myself to you. Back off, Alex. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Gabriel was apologizing for being antagonistic about our efforts yesterday.”

“He didn’t buy me jewelry.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake. I’m going up to bed. Good night.” His criticism stung, in part because she felt guilty about accepting the bauble.

She didn’t make it as far as the elevator before Alex caught up with her. “I called your room, but you didn’t answer,” he said.

“I’ve been trying to stay awake a little longer. I ate dinner alone and did some window-shopping. Last time I checked, neither of those was a crime.”

Alex’s jaw firmed. “I’m sorry if I jumped to conclusions. I was calling to see if you wanted to walk on the beach.”

The look in his dark eyes said he was telling the truth. And that his apology was sincere. Late-day stubble shadowed his jawline, giving him a rakish, dangerous air.

Her anger deflated, leaving her dangerously vulnerable to his weary charm. “I appreciate the offer, but I can barely keep my eyes open. Maybe another evening?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Good night, Alex.”

He took her wrist and then released it abruptly when she flinched. “You’ve made quite an impression on the royal family,” he said.

“I don’t understand.”

“They’ve invited us to spend tomorrow and Sunday at the family enclave in Coral Gables.”

“The whole delegation?”

He shook his head. “Just you and me.”

“Oh.” Well, shoot. “I can make an excuse. It’s more appropriate for you to be there.”

He leaned against a marble column, legs crossed at the ankle. “I doubt that would be a popular choice, Maria. And we certainly can’t take a chance on insulting them by declining. I told Mr. Montoro we’d be honored to accept. Rafael the third, that is. He seems to be receptive to our cause. Since we need all the help we can get, we’re going to be there.”

She sighed, feeling exhaustion wash over her. “What time?”

“Someone will pick us up at eleven in the morning. Bring everything you need for the weekend. We won’t check out of our rooms, though.”

“That seems extravagant, doesn’t it?”

His grin was quick and surprisingly boyish. “Relax, Maria. Your thriftiness is appreciated, but this is the big leagues.”

* * *

She dreamed about that smile. And other things that left her hot and restless and agitated when she finally awoke. As she showered and dried her hair, she fretted about spending two days in a distinctly unprofessional atmosphere with Alex. He continued to keep her off balance. She didn’t know if that was deliberate on his part or simply a function of their new circumstances.

At a quarter till eleven, she shouldered her tote and grabbed the handle of her suitcase. No point in summoning a bellman. She was leaving behind her smaller case.

In the lobby, she looked for Alex to no avail. Many people were checking out, and the sizable space was crowded. She found a corner and pulled out her phone to send a text. Before she could do so, a large hand settled on her shoulder.

“Sorry I’m late,” Alex said, his expression harried. “I had to deal with a call from Alma. Some members of parliament are expecting news immediately. I tried to explain why that won’t be possible.”

She followed him outside. “Don’t they understand that the royal family is somewhat reluctant?”

Alex donned dark sunglasses, effectively shielding his gaze. “I doubt it has even occurred to them that the Montoros may not be interested in what we have to offer.”

A uniformed chauffer held up a sign with their names, and soon they were speeding southwest toward Coral Gables. Maria sat back, content to enjoy the passing view. Though Alex was dressed casually in khaki pants and a loose ivory cotton shirt in deference to the heat, his posture remained tense as he scrolled through emails on his phone. As deputy prime minister of commerce, he bore an enormous workload, never more so than now in the midst of delicate negotiations.

Maria had done her research before leaving Alma, but at the moment all she could remember about Coral Gables was that it dated back to the 1920s with its origin as a planned community. And that it was home to the University of Miami.

The drive was barely half an hour on a good day, but with traffic could be upward of forty-five minutes. Luck was with them, and the trip was quick. As they passed through a portion of the charming business district and turned into a residential area, Maria’s jaw dropped in admiration.

Lush tropical gardens and ornate walls protected private enclaves of the wealthy and oftentimes famous. At the entrance to the Montoros’ estate, the chauffeur pressed an intercom button and identified his passengers before the gate rolled back and they were granted admittance.

Even the driveway was beautiful. The ubiquitous palm trees shaded winding paths of crushed shells mixed with white sand. Feral parrots dotted the landscape with pops of intense color.

“It’s like something out of a novel,” Maria murmured, more to herself than to Alex.