Minding Her Boss's Business. Janice Maynard

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      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.

      He didn’t answer, still engrossed in his work. Biting her lip, she debated how far she dared push him. “Alex.”

      “Hmm?” He never looked up.

      “Alex.” This time she put more force behind the word.

      He took off his sunglasses and rubbed the heel of his hand across his forehead. “What?”

      She forgave him the faint note of irritation in his voice, because she suspected he hadn’t slept much last night. Between the stress and the time change, the poor man was in bad shape.

      “I think you need to relax,” she said. “Look around you. We’re in paradise. If nothing else, we’ve been given an opportunity to make a good impression on the Montoros…to meet them on their turf and show that we understand them.”

      His chuckle was halfhearted at best. “Do we?” he asked. “Understand them, I mean? Neither you nor I have royal blood. What do we know about the obligations of rank and lineage?”

      “That’s true,” she conceded. “But this is our chance to get beyond the obvious…to see them as they really are. Then maybe we can decide how best to cast the lure.”

      He put his phone away and lifted an eyebrow, gazing at her with a warm smile that curled her toes. “I’m impressed, Maria. Machiavellian machinations and intrigue. Who knew you had it in you?”

      “Don’t be so dramatic. All I’m saying is that we should look for their vulnerabilities…their weaknesses. We both know Alma needs the Montoros. What we need to do now is establish exactly why the Montoros need Alma. Once we’ve done that, the outcome should fall in our favor.”

      The driver pulled the limo into a circular driveway. Before Alex could respond, Maria had gathered her things and stepped out of the vehicle. A uniformed housekeeper met them and ushered them inside a small guesthouse.

      “Welcome,” she said in softly accented English. “The Montoros are glad you are here. I have prepared a light meal and afterward you may want to relax for a bit. At four, someone will come to escort you to the main house to join the family.”

      Alex nodded. “Thank you.”

      The housekeeper waited patiently as they explored. Maria’s wide-eyed expression amused him as she took in the lavish amenities. The villa had two guest rooms, each outfitted with a massive king-size bed and expensive teak furnishings. The chauffeur brought in the luggage, placing Maria’s in the dove-gray and shell-pink room, and Alex’s in the navy-and-yellow suite.

      When the tour was complete, the housekeeper held out a hand. “Would you like to eat in the sunroom?”

      Alex looked at Maria and nodded. “Of course.”

      Soon, they were digging into a light but flavorful luncheon of fish tacos, mango salsa and conch fritters.

      Alex took a sip of his really excellent pinot and shook his head. “I think they’re trying to impress us.”

      “Isn’t that our role?” Maria had devoured her food every bit as eagerly as he had.

      “Maybe they want to make very clear how little they’re interested in returning to Alma…in any fashion.”

      “Oh.” Her crestfallen look urged him to comfort her. But the unexpected wave of tenderness made him uneasy. She caused him to feel things that were inappropriate at best and dangerously seductive at worst. How could he fulfill his mission if he were constantly derailed by his baser instincts?

      A life of public service meant subverting his own needs for the greater good. For the benefit of his country and for the sake of his pride he would have to ignore the way she made him feel.

      She had left her blond hair loose today, confined only by two small tortoiseshell clips, one at either temple. Though he knew she came from a background far less privileged than his, she carried herself with a regal grace and dignity that surpassed her years.

      He had suggested her as one of the team for this trip, but ultimately, she had been chosen by the committee. Her talent and hard work impressed everyone who witnessed her in action.

      She’d been right to call him on his preoccupation. Nothing at the moment was more important than the Montoros.

      As they finished their meal, the housekeeper hovered, spiriting away empty plates and keeping their glasses full. At last, she left them alone.

      Alex cleared his throat. “Would you like a nap?”

      “The answer is yes, but I’m not going to take one. I’m determined to beat this jet lag. How about a walk instead?”

      “You do know it’s hot as hell out there.”

      She wrinkled her nose. “Yes. But it’s Florida. I’ve never been here.”

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